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#but something about her was just like yep that's the one
uyuforu · 1 day
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Astrology Observations VI
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All pictures were found on Pinterest
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Boda Persona Chart Analysis I
જ⁀➴ Astrology Observation: Synastry & Composite with In-Laws pt.1
જ⁀➴ How to know when you will get married?
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❀˖° Having a 12H Sun in Solar Return Chart is not for the weak. Your life could "fall apart" during this time, you can have a spiritual awakening, a very hard time in fact. I also noticed it can also mean (doesn’t need to be that, it CAN mean) one of your loved one can pass away unfortunately. It happened to me and a lot of people who also had their sun in their 12h, but not all of them! Usually, you have a hard time in general. But you’ll be fine, it is meant to happen for a reason.
❀˖° Synastry aspects are good to look at but the houses where the aspects fall is very important!! Sun conjunct Moon will have a different meaning where it falls.
❀˖° 7H synastry can mean a wonderful connection and desires to marry. BUT! The 7H can also be the house of enemies, so not everyone’s sun falling in your 7H means you have a good connection with them! I found myself not enjoying most of the people who’s sun fell in my 7H…
❀˖° Underrated Houses in Synastry: 2H, 4H, 6H, 10H.
❀˖° When looking at your Solar Return Chart, check the Synastry it has with your Natal Chart. It will tell you where those placements are felt within you. For example, my SRC’s Sun is in 12H and fall in my 10H this year. I’m having a lot of mental breakdown when it comes to my career, and since it conjuncts a big stellium of mine in my Natal, I just feel like my whole world is falling apart 🥲
❀˖° Please remember: North Node PC will tell you about your Soul purpose WHILE your MC will tell you about your career that is best suit for you. Your NN will never tell you about your career!!
❀˖° Union in your SRC could be the person you will meet this year that will have the strongest influence for you this year.
❀˖° 10H will tell you where your FS was born... ☺️
❀˖° 4H Sun people love to stay at home! Even if they are on a date, they will try to continue the date at home, because this is where they feel the most comfortable.
❀˖° Sun conjunct Mercury in a MC PC is a huge indicator of using communication daily to work, your tool n°1 is your voice!
❀˖° Aquarius Sun 4H are so private!! Aquarius usually are quite private people because they enjoy being mysterious and controlling what people think of them, they like that people don't understand them. But in 4H??? they will lie for the sake of their privacy.
❀˖° Opposite signs aren't that different in the end, they are very similar in fact. Capricorn & Cancer are both very family oriented for example. One is logical minded while the other is more feeling driven.
❀˖° Scorpio Rising have something so intense in their gaze, it's truly something you can't put words on. But once you see this gaze, you know.
❀˖° Chiron in 9H Synastry could be that you think you are too different because of the culture, the language, the beliefs, etc. BUT! If you are from the same place, it can just mean you don't understand each other, you are just basically too different.
❀˖° My step mother and I hated each other, and she had her Moon and Mercury in my 7H. Yep, she hated me. She was often insulting me or even trying to manipulate me with words.
❀˖° Saturn 7H Synastry can mean Saturn person feel like it will never work out between you two. But it could also mean they see you long term, depending of other placements.
❀˖° Sun in 5H Synastry usually means the person really enjoy your presence and think you are fun!
❀˖° Venus 6H Synastry means the Venus Person feels safe around you.
❀˖° You can tell by doing a Synastry with a Celebrity if you can hope to meet them one day. Usually Saturn in 9H or 1H is a sign you will never meet them. Of course, this is just an observation.
❀˖° I checked my Synastry with my first love, and it explained a lot. I have a stellium in his 7H, and of course, he was my first love.
❀˖° But I never expected to got his Venus in my 5H! I never knew if he had a crush on me too or if I was delusional lol.
❀˖° His Sun conjuncted my Neptune, he misunderstood me most of the time. He was seeing me in a way that was so untrue lol.
❀˖° He also had his Sun 1H, he was soooo popular among girls! Any girls from middle school had a huge crush on him at some point.
❀˖° He also had a stellium in my 4H and we were childhood friends.
❀˖° My sun conjuncted his Moon. Now, I had nothing against him, I thought he was funny. But he was indeed seeing me in a light that wasn't me.
❀˖° My Venus conjuncted his Vertex, I suddenly fell for him, and it must have been fated in a way?
❀˖° Though, his Mars fell in my 1H... man thought I was very good looking (he told lmao).
❀˖° Sagittarius Rising in Composite could indicate a mixed couple, but it can also mean you are so different no one expected you two to be together.
❀˖° Union 9H in Composite could mean you met in a foreign country, but also in school!
❀˖° Sun in 11H Composite means you are friends originally. Or just friends lol.
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❀˖° Ceres 7H Composite could mean you care a lot about each other.
❀˖° Venus in 7H or conjuncting DSC Composite means one of you or both of you desire to marry each other.
❀˖° Pluto 12H to me is not that good usually. Anytime I saw this placement in Composite, the couple or the people never stayed together. It always ends. There can be exceptions of course.
❀˖° Saturn 5H in a romantic Composite means you will most likely never date, there could be obstacles in this union.
❀˖° Mercury conjunct Saturn Composite means misunderstandings and miscommunication.
❀˖° The year I had this first love, I had a 5H stellium in my SRC, and this stellium fell in my Natal 9H! It was indeed a school love lol.
❀˖° I also had Venus conjunct Vertex, it was my first time falling for anyone.
❀˖° The year I told him my feeling and got rejected I had Venus conjunct Mercury in 12H!
❀˖° Juno 12H in SRC could mean you have a secret crush!
❀˖° Sun conjunct Juno Solar Return Synastry is a big indicator of having a crush on the Sun person.
❀˖° Juno/ Mars/ Neptune in 1H Synastry Solar Return is an indicators of finding 1H person veryyyy attractive, it can be love at first sight, but it is def a crush!
❀˖° Transits Moon conjunct your Natal Mars will make your emotions boil lol. You could complain a lot or have a lot of negative emotions such as anger, jealousy, etc.
❀˖° Union asteroid conjunct Part of Fortune Synastry is a sign you were meant to meet in order to bless each other. It's a lucky meeting. It is very good and shows that you will do well in each other's life.
❀˖° My FS is a Pisces Venus 4H and he is the softest!! Just very cute and very soft person... I love him very much lol.
❀˖° He also has Neptune 3H, he tends to lie to protect himself (Sun 4H makes this effect too), but he is also a very good poet writer. He wrote me poems before and I believe he would do well for poetry writing in general.
❀˖° Pluto 1H could be a sign you will experience a drastic change in your appearance some day. If Jupiter is also there, it could indicate a big and major glow up.
❀˖° Juno 12H could mean your FS is a soul connection, someone who could be spiritual and awaken. If it is very close to the Rising, or conjunct 1H, OR in 1H, it could mean you'll probably have love at first sight for them.
❀˖° Chiron Virgo/ 6H/ Capricorn/ 10H could indicate a burn out at some point in your life.
❀˖° North Node conjunct Pluto could mean your purpose in your life will transform you deeply, mostly if it is in the 1H. You will live a drastic change in your life.
❀˖° Sun conjunct Mercury 1H in Solar Return Chart means you could think a lot about you this year, and think about your choices, and how it will play out for you. You will do more "selfish" choices because you want to make the best for you.
❀˖° Do I love stalking people I love or do I just have some heavy Scorpio/ 8H placements?
❀˖° Yeah indeed, Scorpio love stalking, but Gemini love that too!
❀˖° I have Gemini Moon 8H... u get it? lol
❀˖° It is a known thing, but in SRC, 4H's ruler in 9H means moving abroad! Another indication could be a stellium in 9H. But the stellium could also mean coming back to school, so it depends.
❀˖° SRC 4H Ruler in 12H could mean the same thing. It could simply be moving out.
❀˖° Speaking of the 12H in SRC, Pluto & Venus there could be end of a relationship BUT it could also be a spiritual love and you will learn lessons because of it.
❀˖° SRC 7H ruler in 1H could mean being in a relationships and it being part of who you are this year. Or you could appear as very romantic, very loyal too. Could also attract more contracts.
❀˖° Mars 7H in SRC could be an indicator you have a fight with the one you love, more if Venus squares/ quincunx/ opposite it. If you are single, it could show also more motivation towards long term connections.
❀˖° SRC 5H ruler being in the 7H could mean being in a long term relationship but also finding the one you want to marry.
❀˖° Once again, SRC Juno conjunct Chiron could mean you will suffer in love but it is indeed for healing.
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Thank you for reading!
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megbanned · 1 day
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Ik I said the Doll one in a reblog but shhhh
Evil AU ideas ig?? Idk I just woke up from a nap my mind is going in circles
Evil!Doll:
-Never committed a murder in her life
- you know what? In fact shes Hemophobic (or whatever the equivalent term is for oil instead of blood) and will faint at the sight of oil
- Her worst crime was stealing Evil!Uzis pink cat eraser and glitter pen
Evil!Lizzy:
- Not popular
- not a cheerleader
- is the nerd outcast instead of the one bullying need outcasts
Evil!Thad:
- Hates sports
- Isn't as nice and chill and cool :( he's kinda an asshole instead
- despite that he's secretly s coward, when the DDs attack he hides instead of trying to fight
Evil!Cyn:
- NOT POSESSED BY THE SOLVER?! Real!!
- we don't see a lot of her as herself, but instead of her and N having a caring sibling relationship they instead have a rivalry & argue a lot
- Instead of being kinda shy/hiding behind N and clinging to him like in Ep5, she's instead overly confident
Evil!Absolute Solver
- Not Evil
- Instead of destroying planets they either fix them or create new artificial planets
- Hasn't killed Tessa!
Evil!Tessa:
- Not dead (yay)
- Hasn't actually rescued any of the manor drones, her parents did instead (in this Tessa would dislike them whilst her parents like them)
- Annoyed by N
HOHOHO
Some of these ideas are canon! Let's see 👀
Evil!Doll:
-She is very talkative and maybe a little jealous of Evil!Uzi since she is the sweetest person in the class and with whom everyone gets along well while Doll only appears to be good, because she is hiding something... (I still need to think about this)
Evil!Lizzy:
-Yep!, that's correct with her!
Evil!Thad:
-Yes too!, he is the bully until DDs appears just to hide!
Evil!Cyn:
-Originally brought to Tessa being affected by the AS, however she begins to regain consciousness. -As she regained consciousness and control of her body she became more confident. -Has a certain rivalry with N, at certain points she makes him look bad on purpose. -Tessa's favorite drone. -More will be added-
Evil!Absolute Solver:
-Created by humans as some form of hacking the JCJenson company! -The AS was implanted in Cyn to cause a disaster and boycott the company, but now Cyn is aware of this and thinks that humans only want to kill each other using other drones, she will prove them wrong, and will end them... humans should never have given uncontrollable powers to an IA -More will be added-
Evil!Tessa:
-She's alive!! -Yep! -Her parents brought the drones for her to give her more company (although they are both loving and care for her a lot), Tessa still had to continue learning to live with other people (in this case the drones), but J was somewhat lazy, V was very uncontrolled, N looked very tormented and Cyn… she was different, she was very good to Tessa, but it was just a mask. -Yep, was annoyed by N (caused by V and Cyn)
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thurio-edau · 3 days
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SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS
sorry for the delay!
alright, gotta say... this one's a bit shorter. but the next will come like a train wreck i promise😇
Part 3: Ben Clark
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oh the sweet old Ben... a kind and loving soul muted away. I'm thinking of inspecting his trauma and his general actions, and give him a diagnosis which I'm sure is canon even. I'm sure everyone who knows the disorder itself is aware that Ben is, in fact, suffering from PTSD.
let's start. first, what is PTSD?
PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition where someone feels what they have previously went through in a past traumatic experience. PTSD is frequently found with flashbacks to the moment, overwhelming feelings and sudden responses. there are two types of this disorder, PTSD and C-PTSD. but we'll look in the first one for now.
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Ben has always been a really kind character. ever since the beginning. more of a 'gentle giant' type of character, though we never see him talk. he's soft, he loves to help his friends and never does anything vulgar around them, including the phantom dimension. he feels nice when he gets praised even if he doesn't show it too.
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the first time we see him getting flashbacks and his anger issues being visible is when we first see Barron's behaviour towards Logan. anything that includes actual bullying gives him flashbacks and his response is his anger issues unleashing.
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in his backstory, Ben is shown that he's more of a shy type of person, but he loves singing. because his tall and intimidating appereance doesn't match his softness, a group of dumbasses try to 'fix' him which he rejects. back when Shane strangled him, is what he gets flashbacks to. it was something that changed his entire life, he had a passion for singing but he never did with his damaged voice. god knows how many times he was hospitalized when he was going around to fights because of his outburst of rage.
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yep, rage. I'd classify his anger issues as the 'rage' type with PTSD. PTSD rage makes more sense to me than just normal anger problems. I've seen and lived with many people with anger issues, but none of them are similar to rage. anger problems in general are usually verbal, if you don't make them mad to a point they're all bark and no bite. but of course after a point the violence behind the generic anger issues can unleash (see Tyler)
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okay, back to Ben and rage. rage is an extreme condition of anger, the person gets violent and their thoughts are clouded with the rage which makes them not think before doing anything drastic. but he's not very closed off about it either, actually. the time where he accepted Aiden to do the storytelling was before the first half of season one, the gang wasn't even that close.
this means that he saw them as actual friends so early on. probably before everyone. Ashlyn took her sweet time accepting the friendship, I'm kind of sure that Aiden didn't at first (see Tyler, yet again), Tyler also definitely didn't (as said by Taylor in season two premiere) and I think Logan has attachment/trust issues but that's for later. the only other possible person that might accept the group fastly is Taylor but with Tyler's influence so close to her, there is also a chance she didn't at first.
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Ben was fine with his friends knowing his past. he put his earphones on because he didn't want to hear about it, or else he knew he'd get flashbacks yet again. I'm thinking that it could be diagnosed too. Aiden knows that it's not just a memory, it's flashbacks to Ben and he covers for him whenever he sees something that might trigger Ben. after learning the situation, Taylor also does the same. they learn the severity of his problems and are all fine with helping him.
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another thing I'm sure of is that he's extremely attached to his friends. we know that everyone is close-knit, but Ben specifically. he might not speak but that doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy their time. he does, fully. which is I think why he/his room was... like that in the facility, without any spoilers.
to say, the gang is more than just friends to him; they're his found family, where he feels like he belongs. they don't judge him for his silence there. they understand his past. they're not scared of him just because of the way he was built and they're not going to be either.
but what about his family?
families are one of the most important part of a character and their backstory. the family is what decides how they will live, act and even feel sometimes. then what about Ben's? where were they during his backstory?
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yeah. Ben's rage causes something terrible to happen.
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but it ends better for everyone. Ben gets the therapy he needed, starts to live with Aiden, makes the gang his friends and it actually goes well.
his parents?
we meet Naomi and William during Lily's birthday.
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yes, Mike, Lily is goshdarn adorable.
first, I think Naomi and William aren't to blame. I think they did the best they could; they tried to help Ben, tried to help him get therapy, sent him to Aiden's place to help himself. then why didn't Ben's story stop?
Ben couldn't control his rage until their house got destroyed and he realized just how far it got. he sneaked out of the house, a lot of people seem to not see that detail. and they seem to be very caring, too.
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they're amazing as a whole family, to be honest. even the little Lily doesn't care about her birthday getting wrecked, because she wants to help Ben and his friends. she indirectly helped Tyler extremely well, since the sedative idea came from her in the first place.
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Naomi was the first person who brought up the whole 'we-are-seeing-phantoms' discussion and William didn't hesitate to talk about it. Naomi was also the first person to notice the phantoms when the worlds collided for a mere second.
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and Ben himself has shown completely zero negative behaviour towards them. and Lily gets treated like a princess -even if she accidentally neutered Ben-
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side note here, that Lily also really loves the family too. the way she cuddled Aiden when he died and came back was so cute to be honest.
so I don't think the family is anywhere to blame either. it was Ben who was strangled, Ben who fought, and Ben who saw therapy. the reason why I'm talking about this is because a lot of people suddenly blame a character's family when there's a problem with them.
guys. people with caring, loving families can be traumatized too. just because someone has a happy family doesn't mean they're suddenly over any trauma they live. doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay. it means that they have an accepting place to go to, a safe space. and Ben's family? I think they're just like that. they desperately try to help. help their son, their nephew and their friends. hell, Lily trying to help also speaks volumes in my opinion. their father -dilf no.2 after Mike right here- William was the one who offered the idea to get the kids saved from the centipede phantom. and to be honest? it was pretty smart.
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she also tried to prevent Emma from going mad because come on, Emma would absolutely wreck anyone if they dared blame Ashlyn for this. (still I think Jessica has to apologize for being to insensitive smh)
Naomi really seems like a sweetheart to me, I already said what to be said about William in a single very important side sentence and if there was any kind of in-family neglect Lily would also be affected. but she isn't so I think we're good? I adore the whole Ben family tho.
to wrap it all up.
Ben is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which makes him see flashbacks and turn into a rage mode each time he is triggered due to his backstory, being bullied because he's too soft. his rage causes a gang to destroy his home (HELLO?? ARE THERE NO FUNCTIONING COPS IN THIS STOR-- oh wait it's america yea there ain't nvm) and his parents try their best. move, get Ben to therapy and let Daniel's side help him by doing stuff he loves. Ben is still trying to recover, but his flashbacks are strong due to impacting his entire life from his voice and make it difficult.
(vocal chords repair by time actually, but he hasn't been speaking for like 4 years so maybe it'd need some voice exercises until it returns to normal?? if it's just vocal chords he'd be alright. imagine if he could talk and sing normally all this time but he just didn't know. it's something between "aww poor guy :((" and "lmao"
but I don't know about voice box, can someone enlighten me on vocal chord damage vs. voice box damage? thamks)
and Lily. Lily is a cinnamon roll. no other opinions allowed.
-i wanted to make a part for Ben and Taylor but i decided wasn't fit here :P-
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klausinamarink · 19 hours
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For Klaus’s Birthday Special 💜💜💜
How about a combination from your list, of Accidental Confessions and “Two shots of vodka.”
“-seven bottles of vodka, four bottles of rum and whiskey, three bottles of pineapple and tomato juice, two bottles of syrup, eight cans of gin and tonic, four bowls of sliced fruit, and a plate of sugar.” Steve finished counting off all of the items on the table. “Anything else we’re missing?”
Eddie hummed thoughtfully before he snapped his fingers. Steve watched him rummage through one of the bags before pulling out two small delicate mini-umbrellas. Eddie opened them and placed them carefully next to the empty glasses. 
“Now we’re ready,” Eddie grinned at Steve. It sent some happy shivers up his spine as usual.
“This is still the stupidest idea ever,” Robin said from her seat next to the camera.
“It was your idea!” Steve said. 
“No. It was some random Patreon request from five months ago that you and Eddie insisted on doing. And it was only five dollars! Five!”
“Ready when you are, guys,” Jeff said, apparently taking their single brain cell for the moment.
Eddie jumped first onto their ‘intro’, “Do you guys love to drink at bar?” 
Steve crossed his arms as he pressed his, “But can’t afford it in this economy?” 
As practiced, they both swept their arms over the crowded table. “Let us be your guides!”
The Patreon request had made it sound easy: make some cocktails and other alcoholic drinks for designated events without looking up any existing recipes. The only problem was that neither Steve or Eddie knew any bartending 101. Except when they had discussed it over about tossing it aside, they both immediately realized wait, this is a good idea.
After they laid down the ground rules - only seven drinks will be made because they will not die of alcohol poisoning just for Youtube views -  Jeff took out a card, chuckling as he read the first prompt. 
“A drink for the babysitters.”
“Ooh!” Steve’s eyes lit up, “I know this one!”
He grabbed the neck of an unopened vodka, grabbing one of the empty glasses. “So here’s what we need-” 
Steve wrestled with opening the bottle. Eddie tried to help but Steve slapped him away, barely containing his giggles as he finally opened the vodka. Was it weird that he already felt kinda drunk?
“Two shots of vodka!”
Steve poured a considerable amount until it looked about half full. He drank it all, shuddering from the burn sliding down inside his chest. Steve smacked his lips together with satisfaction.
Everyone stared back at him expectedly.
“What?”
“Is- is that it?” Eddie asked, horrified.
“Yep.”
“That can’t be it!” 
“Dude, you clearly don’t babysit enough hours as I did.”
“You called that two shots? That was half a bottle, Steve!”
Robin started cackling, “Nevermind, you two are brilliant!”
“Ah yes, the babysitter’s cocktail,” Jeff nodded sagely, “I would recommend one shot for it though.”
“You heard Jeff!” Eddie threw his hands on Steve’s shoulders and started shaking him. “You’re already killing yourself with the vodka stuff! Think of your liver, big boy!”
Steve felt his cheeks heat up. Okay, the vodka was hitting him quicker than he expected.
Sadly, Eddie’s focus was returned back to the task at hand. Steve’s gaze lingered on his flexing hands and tattooed arms. By the time he snapped back to attention, Eddie had thrown together a-
“The hell is that?”
”It’s a fruit cocktail!” Eddie beamed, holding up his hideous drink. Steve gripped onto his own thigh just to prevent himself from leaning forward and smothering Eddie whole like a lust-ridden snake. 
“That’s what you would give for- sorry, what he’s making a drink for?”
“First dates,” Jeff snickered, “Now I know why Eddie’s been single for ages.”
“Hey!” Eddie’s face reddened, “Only because I’ve been wanting to ask Steve on a-”
Eddie suddenly shut up so fast that his jaw clicked. He looked anxious, glancing over at Steve before he started to gulp down his drink.
“Ask me what?” Steve felt an inkling of something. It better not be the inevitable dread of yet another relationship falling into ruin. 
“N-Nothing!” Eddie coughed, clearly regretting his improvised beverage. 
“Were you about to ask me out, Eds?” Steve wished he could smack himself for even asking the words aloud. But the vodka made him loose and a little braver than he usually was.
Eddie tugged a lock of hair over his mouth. He looked even more red than the tomato juice. He murmured something under his breath.
“What’s that?” Steve leaned in closer. Their breaths mingled together. They both smelled nasty but hey, Steve had some odd things awakening inside of him since meeting Eddie. 
“Yes…” Eddie spoke more clearly, barely looking at him.
“Yes what?”
Eddie groaned. Then he straightened up, clamped his hands on both sides of Steve’s face, and cried out, “I’ve been wanting to go out with you for a very long time, Steve!”
And then Eddie surged forward to kiss him.
Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s torso as he tasted the sharp tangs of vodka and pineapple. He pushed Eddie’s hips back, holding him against the table counter. 
Robin screeched, “DON’T MAKE OUT ON THE TABLE!” 
Steve probably would have flipped her off, but he had a more important task in hand and that was pushing his tongue down Eddie’s throat and hearing his soft moans.
Until some cold water sprayed at his face.
“Hey-!” Steve broke away, only to be nearly blinded by more water. Next to him, Eddie hissed like a cat.
Jeff stood in front of them with a spray bottle in hand. He looked clearly done with their shit while Robin seemed to be either laughing her ass off or performing an exorcism on herself. 
“This was supposed to maintain your sobriety, but I think you two can just go to horny jail instead.”
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vodika-vibes · 1 day
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I would love to see Wrecker with Topaz in the winter! Warm soup, cozy fireside snuggles, and just sheer cuteness! 💕
Silent Night
Summary: After Wrecker and the Batch’s Medic are stranded in the middle of a winter wonderland, Wrecker decides to make the best of it.
Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader
Word Count: 725
Warnings: None
Prompt: Topaz - Affectionate Love
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: This one fought me at every turn. I knew what I wanted it to say, but I'm not sure I managed to make it as soft and sweet as I wanted. Oh well, Happy reading!
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“You know, you’re pretty good at this, Doc.” Wrecker says with a grin as his gaze drifts from the fish he’s cleaning, to where the team medic is crouching next to a roaring fire. 
The light from the orange flames gives her an almost ethereal look, and Wrecker has a look away before he gets too distracted. “Well,” She admits as she clears a space of snow, as best as she can, and pulls the tent out of his kit, “Mom and dad divorced when I was a kid. And while mom had a nice house, dad wasn’t so lucky. So his weekends were usually spent camping.”
“So you could probably clean this fish then?” Wrecker asks, as he glances at her curiously.
She smiles sheepishly, “Well, dad did show me how, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”
He grins at her, and sets his knife to the side, “Well, as it happens, I’m done anyway. You have everything set up?”
“Yep. Just toss everything in the pot.”
Wrecker does as she instructs, and watches as she adds a few packets of seasoning, as well as some dehydrated vegetables, “I’m guessing your dad had you doing most of the cooking?”
“Yeah. Well, he wasn’t very good at cooking, really. So it was either learn to cook, or me and my siblings were going to end up with tapeworms or something.” Wrecker sits on the flat rock that she found…somewhere…and starts cleaning his knife.
“You know, you don’t talk about your family often.”
She glances at him, “Well, there’s not really much to say, is there?” She drops the contents of a second package into the pot, and then sits next to Wrecker, “My family is just average.”
“I’m not sure what an average family is,” Wrecker points out, “Though I bet Tech could tell me.”
She laughs, “Right, right. Well, there’s mom. She was a housewife up until she and dad got divorced, and then she got a job at the local elementary school getting me and my siblings free tuition. Dad was a firefighter who had a gambling issue. And then there’s the kids, my other brother, me, and our younger sister.”
“Well, you’re a doctor. What do your siblings do?”
“My brother is a chef at some big name restaurant on Coruscant. My sister is trying to become an actress, though she’s only really starred in commercials.” She shrugs, “Like I said, normal. Your family is so much more interesting.”
He laughs, “That’s one word for them.” Wrecker finishes cleaning his knife and stashes it away, “Are you comfortable?”
“Hm?”
“It’s kind of cold.” Wrecker points out.
“Oh, I’m alright. The fire is helping, and Hunter insisted I wear cold weather gear for this mission.” She hesitates, “Do…do you think-?”
“I’m sure they’re fine. Tech is there, after all.” Wrecker drapes an arm over her shoulder and tugs her against his side, “We’re the ones who have to camp outside in the snow.”
She smiles shyly, “I’m not worried.”
“No?”
“I have you here, don’t I?” She asked with a small, almost flirty, smile.
Wrecker’s heart flips nervously, “I…uh…”
She tilts her head, “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“Nah, Doc. I’m just…I’m not Hunter or Crosshair, I’m not used to flirting.” Wrecker admits.
“I’ll stop, if you want.”
“Well now, I didn’t say that.”
She laughs, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, “I like you, Wrecker. You’re fun and you make me laugh and you make me feel safe. I’d like to go on a proper date with you, if I can.”
Wrecker blinks at her, “You…you do?”
“Yeah, if it’s alright.”
“We don’t really…there isn’t much time for proper dating-” Wrecker stammers, “And I don’t get paid-”
“I do get paid, and, well, it doesn’t have to be a big thing, Wrecker. I just want to spend time with you.”
“Well, in that case, can’t this be considered a date?” Wrecker points out.
She looks startled for a moment, and then she beams at him, “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She lifts to her knees slightly and presses a light kiss against his cheek, before she settles next to him again.
Wrecker presses his hand against his burning cheek, a wide grin that he isn’t even trying to stifle. 
Being stranded here isn’t as bad as it could be.
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nonbinaryphantom · 8 months
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reaper au is very anime for lack of a better term this means that danny and valerie in this au are the shounen rivals btw which makes their fight dynamic fun bc danny is a reaper and valerie is sort of a mimic of one, more human than he is. but theyre evenly matched bc valerie is just that good and if danny gives way even an inch she could absolutely destroy him
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impgall · 1 month
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I still can't believe how the events of my father's death unfolded tbh. Like in a comical way. When he called the evening before and we FINALLY compromised on a time for me to take him to my work (hospital) in the morning he was still soooo hesitant (he had been varying degrees of sick for a couple years now) and said smthn like "Ugh I don't want to" I said Well I don't want my dad to die!!!! and he replied Well, I don't want to die either, shug. (He always called me n my sister shug bc his mom was from Mississippi) and then we said our "love you"s and "see you tomorrow"s so then I wake up get ready for work and drive over there. And find his corpse on the bathroom floor. Calling 911 and the operator (or w/e their title is) says "try doing CPR" like I'm BLS certified but Not Like That. The EMTs come and pronounce him dead n stuff. But motherfucker you said you didn't want to die!!! Asshole. And I finally got him to agree to let me take him to the hospital. God what an asshole.
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danveration · 3 months
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Sleep well, amour.
Parings: Alastor x reader
Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?
Word count: 2844
Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)
part two
A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)
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Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.
You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.
“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.
“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.
“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.
“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.
After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.
While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.
He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.
“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.
His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.
“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.
“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.
“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.
Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.
“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.
Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.
While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.
“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.
“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.
Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”
She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.
He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”
After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.
“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.
Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.
“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.
One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.
You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.
“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.
“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.
Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.
“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.
“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.
“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”
You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.
Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?
“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”
Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.
“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.
You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”
You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.
Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.
You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.
“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.
You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.
“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.
“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.
You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.
This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.
You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.
Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.
“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.
You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.
“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.
After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.
Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.
He walks over to you and looks down.
“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.
He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.
“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.
“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.
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champagnefountains · 3 months
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
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Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).
It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 
Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.
Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  
So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 
“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 
“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 
The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.
Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 
“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 
There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”
A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 
“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 
Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 
“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 
“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 
For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.
If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.
“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.
“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 
Earlier on:
On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.
You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.
Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 
“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  
“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 
"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 
You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 
“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 
“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 
Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 
“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 
“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.
“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 
There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.
“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 
Currently:
Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 
After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.
After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 
Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 
“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 
“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.
As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
“Oh, fuck no!”
Chapter III - Finale [x]
Thank you for reading!
3K notes · View notes
esouliie · 3 months
Text
DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader
– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…
– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)
[word count: 3.4k]
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Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.
Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…
Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.
Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.
This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.
The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.
As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.
“Hey, Wanda.”
She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.
"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"
“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”
Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”
You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.
Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…
“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”
You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”
Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.
“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”
Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.
Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.
"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.
"You’re so much more than him.”
You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.
Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.
“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her admission.
"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.
It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.
To keep stroking your hand,
To keep whispering in your ear.
To keep close to you.
“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.
But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.
“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.
Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.
“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”
A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.
Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.
“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”
With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.
Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.
“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.
“Let’s forget it happened.”
You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”
“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.
“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”
Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.
But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”
She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.
“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.
“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”
She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.
She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”
She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon be hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.
“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.
Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.
Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.
She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”
You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.
Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”
A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”
Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.
“Wanda… please!”
“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”
You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”
“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”
You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.
“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…
But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.
This was your best friend’s mom.
Natasha didn’t deserve this.
“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”
“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”
Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.
“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.
Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.
“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”
Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”
Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.
The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.
“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”
A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.
 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.
Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.
Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.
You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.
The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.
Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.
Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.
“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”
Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.
You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.
Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.
To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.
Because she didn’t care.
She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.
The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.
“Can you look at me, princess?”
Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.
She looks so beautiful.
Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…
Natasha.
Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.
You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.
“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”
Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.
“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”
A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.
Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.
Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.
“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”
You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.
Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.
Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.
A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.
Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.
Finally, she had you.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.
And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.
After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.
Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.
You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.
Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.
“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”
You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.
You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.
“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”
You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”
Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.
“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”
She guides you out of her neck to look at her.
“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.
“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.
It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”
You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.
“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.
“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.
Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.
“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”
Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.
“Keep saying you love me, baby.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.
“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.
“Come on. Be good for me.”
It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.
She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.
A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”
“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.
“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.
Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.
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steddie-as-they-come · 6 months
Text
Eddie's hanging out in Family Video during Steve and Robin's shift, just being a general nuisance, when it begins.
The other two are talking in low voices in the back corner, discussing something Eddie can't hear. Normally he'd get up and go over there, insert himself into the conversation, command their attention, but he's too busy judgmentally rifling through Family Video's paltry horror movie supply to care that much.
He sneaks a glance over, and then he sees it.
Steve presses a kiss to Robin's forehead.
Eddie has to drop the tape he's holding before he does something stupid like break it out of jealousy.
And he knows, okay, he's heard it no less than eight million times, they're platonic with a capital P. That doesn't stop the little green monster in his chest from rearing its head.
It doesn't stop there, either. Eddie starts to see Steve kiss the rest of the Party. Simple little forehead kisses and temple kisses and kisses on the crowns of their heads, like he's their parent, which, well, he is. He does it when Dustin needs comfort. He slings an arm around Lucas and pulls him close for a kiss on the temple when Lucas makes a particularly good shot for basketball. He does it to Max, on one of her bad days. He even does it to Mike absentmindedly, who makes a feral screech like an angry cat before everyone starts to laugh at him. And of course, he and Robin are always all over each other.
But he won't kiss Eddie.
It's stupid that he expects it. They don't know each other. Steve's been with this group, been saving them from monsters and scientists and torturers for forever.
Eddie still wants in on it. If only to indulge his pathetic little crush on the former King of Hawkins High.
One night, Steve hosts a movie night, and Dustin invites Eddie along. He goes, because of course he does, and takes a seat on the end of the couch as Steve puts in the tape.
Eddie immediately forgets what the movie is, because Steve sits down next to him. His entire brain is a fuzzy kind of static that only intensifies when Steve scoots closer.
"Sorry," is the first word Eddie registers out of Steve's mouth, and he hastily tries to collect his thoughts. Steve moves closer, which doesn't help.
He peers around Steve and sees the kids all trying to squish onto the couch. "Scoot over, Eddie!" Mike shouts, and Eddie moves as close as he can to the arm of the couch. Steve follows, arm around him and thighs pressed close together.
Okay, then. Eddie can die happily tonight, apparently.
Something jumps at the screen, and Steve flinches.
Eddie learns a new thing about Steve that night. Apparently, when Steve gets frightened, he pulls everyone within reach towards him, like he's trying to shield them with his body. Eddie finds himself hugged to Steve's chest and has to employ breathing exercises to get rid of his new little...problem.
He somehow makes it through the movie without spontaneously combusting, a feat nothing short of a miracle. The kids run to the kitchen and Eddie can hear Dustin pick up the phone and say, "Hello, Paulie's Pizza?"
Steve sighs and gets up. "I did not say they could order pizza," he grumbles. He extends his hand to Eddie, and after a second of bewildered staring, Eddie manages to grab it and pull himself to standing.
Robin's sitting on the couch still (she had been on the other side of Steve), and she watches this interaction with an unreadable expression on her face.
Well, unreadable to Eddie, anyway. Steve and Robin proceed to have an entire conversation with just facial expressions, and Eddie is left in the dark about it.
Steve finally rolls his eyes and stalks into the kitchen. He distracts Dustin with a kiss on the top of his head, then steals the phone. "Hi, yeah," he says, and Eddie recognizes that voice as his King-Steve-takes-what-he-wants voice. "No, that's right. Two medium pepperoni pizzas and a side of garlic knots, yep."
He listens, then says, "I'll be over to pick it up," then places the phone back on the receiver with a click.
"I'm going to get the food." he announces to the room at large. "Eddie, you coming?"
"Sure?" Eddie slings his leather jacket from the back of one of the kitchen table chairs and slides his sneakers on.
The drive is quiet. Multiple times, it looks like Steve wants to say something, but he never does. When the two of them walk in to get the pizza, Steve grabs both boxes. "Can you get the door, Eds?"
Eddie wants to tease him about the new nickname, but he chooses not to, opting instead to nod and say, "Sure thing, Stevie." He pulls open the glass door and says, with a mock bow and a grand gesture, "Your majesty."
Steve rolls his eyes. "Thanks." He (finally!!) goes to kiss Eddie.
However, Eddie is not as short as the kids (and Robin) who Steve normally does this to. Eddie's pretty sure the kiss is supposed to land on his forehead.
It lands on his mouth.
Pretty shoddy kiss, as it were. Mostly, Steve kisses the corner of Eddie's mouth.
Both of their faces burn red. If not for Steve's sports-playing, monster-killing reflexes, the pizzas would be on the ground right now.
"Sorry!" Steve says, hurrying out to his car and tossing the food in the backseat. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
Eddie slides into the passenger seat. "Finally!" he says.
"What?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Steve, I've been the only one who you haven't been bestowing kisses upon for weeks now. Sorry if I'm excited to be included in the group."
Steve starts the car. "But...those are all platonic kisses."
Eddie scoffs. "What, and kissing me wouldn't be?"
Steve is silent.
"REALLY?" Eddie yells. "Wait, wait-" He leans over the center console. "Steve Harrington, if you wanted a kiss, a romantic kiss, you could have told me before cuddling with me all night!"
Steve sighs. "Fine. Eddie Munson, I'm going to kiss you romantically."
And he leans in.
Eddie's obsessed with the curve and dip of Steve's mouth against his. He greedily cups his hand against Steve's face, his other hand propped up against the center console. Steve tastes like the soda he was drinking earlier, mixed with something richer and deeper that's wholly, entirely Steve.
They break apart at a small crackle from Steve's inner pocket.
"Henderson," Steve says exasperatedly. "That kid is so damn impatient."
"Steve!" Dustin's voice comes from the walkie Steve pulls out. "Have you gotten the pizza yet?"
"Yes, you little shit, we're coming back now." Steve sighs. "Oh! Henderson, find Robin. Tell her it happened."
Eddie shoots Steve a confused look, but Steve just holds up a placating hand, a slight smile on his face.
"OH MY GOD STEVE!" comes Robin's voice on the walkie. "HELL YEAH!"
Steve cackles and leans back in to kiss Eddie, who happily accepts.
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dadsbongos · 7 months
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then, and again, and once more
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6.9k words
Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.
Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up
sukuna-centric part 2
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There it is again.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.
Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.
And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.
He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”
That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”
“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”
Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”
“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”
“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”
Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”
“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”
Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.
Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?
“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.
But in a lot more ways -
“Oi, don’t ignore me.”
He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.
“You like that one, right? I can help.”
You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.
It isn’t even affection. It’s just…
“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”
Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.
With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”
Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”
Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”
Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”
And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”
Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?
“Do you want my help or not, worm?”
Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.
“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.
Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.
The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.
And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.
“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “
“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”
Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”
He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”
“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”
Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”
You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”
Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”
“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”
Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”
“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”
Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.
Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.
Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.
And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.
Oh well.
It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.
His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”
Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”
“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”
“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”
“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.
Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.
But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”
“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”
“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”
“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”
A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.
We used to be more.
You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.
Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.
Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.
Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.
“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.
Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.
Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.
And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”
“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”
You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”
He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”
Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”
“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”
“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.
Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.
You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.
Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.
Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.
People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.
As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.
He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”
Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.
That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.
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That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.
Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.
And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”
Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”
It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.
But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”
But he’d never lie, you know that.
So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”
It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.
Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.
“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”
“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”
Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”
“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.
“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”
“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”
“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”
He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.
He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.
That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.
Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.
You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.
Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.
And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.
Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.
But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.
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It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.
In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.
Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.
And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.
But it was time now.
With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.
It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.
Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.
And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.
“Itadori, right?”
Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.
On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.
Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.
But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”
Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?
You wouldn’t remember any of it.
Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.
He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”
That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.
“She’s still awake.”
Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”
Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”
“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.
The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.
Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.
Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.
“Itadori?”
Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?
But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.
With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.
The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”
Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.
“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”
Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”
But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”
His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.
That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.
Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.
Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.
Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.
Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”
“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”
Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”
Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.
His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.
Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”
You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.
Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”
But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.
On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.
Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.
“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”
Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.
Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.
He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.
And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-
“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”
Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.
He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.
“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.
Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.
“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”
“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”
You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”
Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.
“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.
He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”
This wasn’t new?
Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.
His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.
Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.
Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.
Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.
You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.
“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”
Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.
Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.
“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”
“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”
“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”
And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.
It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.
You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.
Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”
And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”
And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.
“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”
“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.
And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.
“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”
The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.
When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.
“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”
Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.
Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!
alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)
And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”
BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way
I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)
A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.
Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.
Word Count: 2,392
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.
Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.
For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.
The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.
When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.
The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.
Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.
"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."
He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.
"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.
"I know she did."
"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."
Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.
"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."
Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.
Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.
"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.
"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.
There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.
"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.
"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.
"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.
That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.
About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.
"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.
"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.
"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.
"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."
"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.
Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.
That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.
"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"
"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"
"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."
"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.
"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"
Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.
"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."
"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.
"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.
"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.
"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.
Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.
"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"
"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."
"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."
He trailed off.
"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.
Husk sighed.
"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."
"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.
Husk shrugged.
"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."
Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.
It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.
A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.
Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.
The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.
A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.
"Hey hun, I'm home."
In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.
"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."
"I know."
"Y/n-"
"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."
"Sweetheart-"
Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.
"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"
Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."
His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.
"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.
With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.
"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."
Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.
"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."
Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.
"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.
"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."
"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."
"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.
"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."
"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.
She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.
"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."
"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.
"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.
"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.
Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.
"Husker?" she asked with a smile.
The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Husker! I-"
"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."
Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise." he sighed.
"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.
"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.
"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."
"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."
"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.
"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.
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arachine · 8 months
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something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…
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includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe
note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!
link to part two + link to part three
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i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.
no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.
no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.
and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.
the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.
so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.
things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.
conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…
one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.
when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.
a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.
gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.
"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"
while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.
"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"
"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."
he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.
"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"
the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"
"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.
the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.
"miss what, daddy?"
"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."
"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-
"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"
"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.
"jeez kid, just answer the question."
she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.
she doesn't budge.
"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."
with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.
"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"
ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.
"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."
she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."
"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."
20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.
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norrizzandpia · 26 days
Text
So American (OB38)
Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.
Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)
Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭
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Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.
None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.
Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.
She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.
Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.
”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.
Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”
Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.
Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”
Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”
Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”
Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.
He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”
Ollie. That’s cute.
That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.
The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.
She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.
And that she did.
Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.
When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.
That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.
“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.
He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.
When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.
Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.
Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.
Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”
He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.
She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.
“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.
Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”
He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.
A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.
”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”
Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”
”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.
Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”
Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”
The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”
Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”
Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”
Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”
In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”
Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”
Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”
She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”
Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”
She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,
As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?
When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.
Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.
God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.
Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.
”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”
Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”
Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.
Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”
Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.
The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.
Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”
They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.
I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.
Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.
The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.
“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.
She nodded, “Of course, baby.”
He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”
Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”
He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.
She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”
He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”
Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.
She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”
Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”
She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”
He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.
She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”
Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”
Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”
He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.
And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.
ONE YEAR LATER
Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.
Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”
She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”
He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”
She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”
Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”
Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”
There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”
She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”
He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”
She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”
He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”
She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”
Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”
Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”
He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”
Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.
She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”
Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”
He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”
Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.
When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”
He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.
He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.
It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.
Bloody hell, they were so in love.
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lovebugism · 3 months
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Hi!! I an so obsessed with your writing and characterization. Congrats on one year!! Can i request something for Steve?
Prompt:”i didnt realise we still weren't..."
Where someone asks reader and Steve how long theyve been together, Steve thinks theyd been dating this whole time, reader is confused cause Steve never asked her! Best friends to lovers and theyre both a little clueless. Thank you!!
i changed up the prompt a bit but i hope you like it :D — jim and joyce force you and steve to have an important talk about your relationship (established relationship-ish, also best friends to lovers-ish, fluff, 0.9k)
“Does it feel any better now?” Steve asks, cuddled next to you on the porch swing outside the Byers’ home. He’s been wearing the same worried glint in his honey eyes since the sun went down — when he tried to give you a piggyback ride and then slipped in the mud. He broke your fall for the most part, but your ankle got caught underneath him.
You nod, then grimace when you try to twist your foot. “Sorta…” you shrug.
“Have I said I’m sorry yet?” he jokes with a scrunch to the bridge of his chiseled nose.
“Only a billion times.”
“Well, I’m gonna make it a billion and one now. ‘Cause I’m sorry.”
“I’ve already said it’s okay,” you assure with a giggle, leaning over to knock your shoulder against his. “It doesn’t even feel that bad anymore. I swear.”
“I’ll kiss it better when we get home,” he offers, just to make you get all shy. His soft smirk widens to a fuller beam when his ploy works. “I mean, you are staying over tonight, right?”
“Of course,” you shrug. “How else are you gonna kiss my sprained ankle better?”
“Touché.”
He leans in for a kiss. The tip of his nose just barely grazes the side of yours when the screen door shrieks open. The Talking Heads playing from inside grows suddenly louder, then muffles again when the door shuts. Jim and Joyce stumble out together — eyes glassy and cheeks flushed, obviously not totally sober.
The woman pops a cigarette between her pink lips. Hopper lights it for her. “You know… I’ve already booked the reservation for Enzo’s,” he tells her lowly. His back faces the two of you, totally unaware of your presence and blocking any view of you.
“Oh,” she hums sarcastically, blowing smoke from her lungs. “Is that right?”
“Yep. So either I sit there all alone with my chee-anty, or you come and keep me company,” Jim lilts in a quiet, honeyed tone. “And if that doesn’t sound like a good time, then maybe the bottomless breadsticks will win you over.”
Steve leans against your shoulder. His mouth rests outside your ear. “Do you think they know we’re out here?” he asks.
You raise a silent hand with a pointed finger, shushing him without saying a word.
Joyce giggles like a teenage girl. “Look. I don’t even know if I like you,” she teases.
“But you’re thinking about it, right?” Hopper wonders, with all the hope of a schoolboy asking out a girl way out of his league. “‘Cause you should.”
Steve shifts. The porch swing squeaks. Both parents turn to face you, features softly agape. Jim blinks once. “You guys been sittin’ there the whole time?” he asks in a strangled voice.
“Enough to hear you groveling,” you answer.
“Alright…” he grumbles half-heartedly.
“The bottomless breadsticks are actually pretty good, Joyce,” Steve chirps obliviously, smiling wide and flitting his eyes between the two standing across the porch. “But, you know, if she doesn’t wanna go with you, Chief, I’m always available—”
“Okay, let’s go around back,” Hop announces, guiding Joyce down the steps with a hand curled gently around her elbow. The woman giggles when you whistle suggestively at them. Jim shouts at you over his shoulder. “Watch it! And ice that ankle when you get home!”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Harrington, don’t let her walk on it,” the man sighs, already exasperated. “Be a gentleman, alright? Give your girl a day’s bed rest, dote on her or whatever—”
“Oh, we’re not— I’m not his girlfriend,” you correct with a forced laugh.
Your words seem to take Steve by surprise. He flashes you a look, scruff features swirled with confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“We’re not dating, Steve.”
He scoffs an awkward laugh, brows pinching. “You’re joking, right?”
“Well, this is awkward,” Jim mumbles, grateful he’s not the butt of the joke for once.
Joyce slaps his arm. “Hop.”
“We’re gonna go,” the man announces, heading towards the backyard. “Have fun with… this.”
Steve waits until they’re gone to face you fully. He turns on the swing until his knee brushes the outside of your own. The hurt puppy expression on his face hasn’t quite ebbed. “You don’t think we’re dating?”
“You do?” you retort.
“Yes!” Steve shouts, talking wildly with his hands. “Our first date was at Enzo’s! I brought you flowers and everything!”
“You never asked me to be your girlfriend, Steve—”
“I thought it was implied!”
“—I thought you didn’t wanna be, like, official with me or something!”
Steve goes suddenly silent. His chest starts to ache like there’s a fire rising behind his ribcage. He swallows hard. “Have you been… Have you been seeing other people?”
“No!” you answer instantly, face twisted in abhorrence of the thought. “Of course not!”
“Okay. Good,” he nods, raking a hand through his wild hair and settling again. “‘Cause I haven’t either, so… We’ve basically been dating this whole time.”
You meet his smile with a playful glower. “You still shouldn’t asked me, though.”
“Well, I’m asking you now,” he announces and wraps an arm around your shoulder. He leans in until you can smell the birthday cake and soda on his breath. You don’t notice until now that your lipstick is smeared on his mouth. “Do you wanna be girlfriend-boyfriend with me?”
You purse your lips to the side with a playful hum. “Mm. I’ll think about it.”
“Oh, c’mon!”
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