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deadsetobsessions · 2 days

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Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.

“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #batman #bruce wayne #jason todd #tim drake #dc x dp #red hood #bamf danny phantom #crime lord Danny #accidental crime lord Danny

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days

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Hello could I please request civilian!reader staring at the batboys for a long time and goes “why are you so perfect and handsome, I’m so lucky to have you and I will protect you with my tiny body and hands” 🌸

Idk whether or not this is what you wanted anon but I hope you like it at least in some way 😂

Jason can’t help but let out a full belly laugh upon hearing your declaration after having stared at him for a full hour, as he walked over to you to cup your face in his hands and rest his head against yours.

‘How sweet you of chipmunk, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind whenever I’m in trouble.’ He murmurs as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

He found it extremely endearing and sweet that you would ever go out of your way to protect someone like him but he preferred if you were to stay at home where it was relatively safe. Jason cared way too much about you to loose you, even if the comment was made in a lighthearted way.

Gotham was far too cruel for someone like you and you both knew it, the city was bound to swallow you whole before you even made it down the street.

The other thing that stuck in Jason’s mind how you thought he was perfect and handsome, to which he would always respond with;

‘I’m far from being either of those things chipmunk, but I’ll take the compliment.’

Jason didn’t view himself as an ugly dude but nor did he think of himself as handsome either, he grew up in Crime Alley and was taken in by a billionaire, he never had times to focus on the way he looked or acted in the eyes of others. Until you of course.

To Jason, Dick was someone many would consider a handsome and perfect man while those same many often regarded him as the complete opposite under the same breath. So whenever you held his face in your hands and called him handsome or perfect with a look of utter love and adoration in your eyes, Jason can’t help but find himself slowly starting to believe that he was in fact a handsome man.

If anything Jason views himself as the one who is lucky to have someone as good and as perfect as you and he reminds you of it day and night, whether he was Jason Todd, your perfect man or Red Hood, feared vigilante of Gotham.

Dick: found it really cute that you thought you could protect him, someone who had the insane flexibility and agility of a cat, but he wasn’t one to crush your dreams and aspirations.

‘My hero has finally come to save me?’ He’d gasp dramatically as he practically falls into your arms, causing you to buckle under his weight and collapse on the bed and giggle at his theatrics.

However he wouldn’t dare let you put yourself in danger in any way shape or form for the likes of him, he refused it as this life had nothing but take and take and take from him anything and everything he held dear.

He still remembered how he felt partially responsible for Jason’s death that he tries to make up for it by being in his corner when it seemed as though everyone thought ill of him.

So Dick really doesn’t want you going and pulling the heroic card on him as he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it, he’d act like he could when in reality he was doing far worse then anyone could imagine. So it be better if you let him do the saving.

Now Dick was aware of his own attractiveness and appeal but when you were the one calling him perfect and handsome, he’s smiling widely and internally kicking his feet and saying silly shit like;

‘You still have a crush on me? How embarrassing for you.’ To which you respond with ‘Dick we’ve been dating for 8 months-‘

When anyone else calls Dick handsome they are pointing out an already pre established fact, but when you’re the one saying he’s handsome it has more meaning as it felt as though he was being shown something that he never knew was there before. He lived for every time you called him handsome and it wasn’t because of an ego thing, he just like you calling him handsome and would never want to live in reality where he never heard you say it ever again.

Damian;

‘I can protect us both without issue so there’s no need for that.’

He sometimes takes your word a little too literally, regardless whether you were joking or not.

He was the crime fighter out of you both, so just let him do all the fighting, he doesn’t want your eyes to be burdened with the violence and criminal activity that he was accustomed to.

Also when you called him perfect and handsome, Poor Damian didn’t know what to think as it wasn’t something he viewed himself as nor expected anyone outside of his family to either.

He could handle insults and such but soft words laced with love and care towards him was an entirely new feeling for him in general that it both scared and excited him simultaneously. Besides Damian wasn’t interested in tibial things such as being conventionally attractive or whatever troubles the average person, he never thought it of any importance when other things took presidency in his life.

However when you compliment him, Damian couldn’t help but feel as though he was a little boy again, he would feel himself stiffen for a moment before the appropriate response came to him as easy as breathing, because caring for you was as easy as breathing to Damian and he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound wherever you are; for without you he’d be deeply lost.

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cutielando · 3 days

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mr. and mrs. ~ oscar piastri

Summary: Wedding of the year is finally here between the two favorite youngsters on the grid. Everyone is invited!

Words: 1.3k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Oscar and Y/N.

Y/N and Oscar.

Everyone knew them, everyone loved them.

Ever since the young Australian lad had entered the Formula 1 world, Y/N had entered it with him. Always by his side, always attending his races while also attending university.

They had been together for many years, practically having invented the term “highschool sweethearts”. Despite Oscar’s busy schedule and Y/N being at university, they always made it work, never letting the distance affect their relationship.

Moving together to the UK had represented the first sign that they were both in it for the long ride. Packing up their entire lives and moving across the globe to follow their dreams proved that their relationship and the love they had was real.

Real and pure.

When Oscar got the opportunity to drive in Formula 1 and Y/N started her studies, the time they spent together shortened by a significant amount, but they managed to make it work.

They talked on the phone every day, texting when neither of them could speak on the phone, they took every opportunity to visit each other when they had free time, with Y/N visiting Oscar at his races or Oscar coming home when he would have 2 weeks off between races.

They made it work.

But Oscar wasn’t satisfied. He needed something more. He needed something that would put his mind at ease when he would be away.

He needed to officially make you his.

Towards the end of the season, you had a few weeks off uni and decided to join your boyfriend in Qatar for the Grand Prix.

You hadn’t really chosen the best race to attend, the heat and the humidity making it really strenuous on your already tired body. But seeing the smile that Oscar had while doing the grid walk with you by his side made it worth it.

Being there for Oscar’s sprint win had been the highlight of your entire year. Seeing him cross the checkered flag first, seeing his name on that first position on every monitor around the paddock, the feeling was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

Up until the moment Oscar got out of the car.

He made his way over to where you were waiting for him after he celebrated a little with the team, taking off his helmet and balaclava and giving them to one of his assistants.

“How about that?” he asked, chuckling as he pulled you into his arms, careful not to squeeze you too tightly because he was sweaty.

“I’m so fucking proud of you, Os. I can’t believe I was here for your first win” you said, your voice muffled because you had your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“It’s technically not considered a win bec-”

“Shut up and enjoy the moment” you interrupted, making him chuckle and continue hugging you.

As he let go of you, you didn’t notice him reaching for something behind his back, not even his assistant subtly handing him something as he appeared again from the garage. All you could focus on was him, and nothing else around you.

It only really hit you when Oscar lowered himself down on one knee in front of you, a red velvet box in his hand.

“Oh my God” you said, your eyes widening and your hands flying up to your mouth.

All around you, the McLaren team gathered in a circle, phones ready and cameras rolling to catch the sweet moment on camera.

“Y/N, I don’t even know whether words will suffice to say what I want to say right now. You’ve been by my side since we were kids, you moved to the UK with me and left your entire family in Australia just for me, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. I can’t imagine my life without you in it, I frankly don’t think I could survive on my own if you weren’t here. I want to grow old with you, I want to have kids with you and build the life we’ve always talked about having. Y/N, will you marry me?” the words got stuck in your throat, so you settled for nodding feverishly.

The entire team around you cheered, but you could only see Oscar. As he got up and slid the ring on your left hand, you threw yourself into his arms and softly cried, the moment far too emotional to be able to hold back.

Your engagement had become national news in a matter of a couple of hours. Every media channel from the world had written about Oscar’s proposal in Qatar, speculating about when the wedding would be and whatnot.

It didn’t even feel like it had really happened when you stared at the ring on your finger, the feeling foreign but so welcome and like it was meant to be.

You and Oscar had multiple talks about when you would get married, where you would have the wedding and many other problems that came with being away from home and everyone’s families.

Which is why you decided to have the wedding back home in Australia.

After the season was finished and the winter break came, you and Oscar had started planning the wedding, which you settled to have after the last race before the summer break. He had already sent invitations out to the rest of the drivers, all of them very eager to attend the young lad’s wedding.

Lando was especially thrilled, but couldn’t help making jokes about how he had never thought Oscar would be the one getting married so young.

“What did you do to him, Y/N? You charmed him pretty damn well” he’d always joke whenever you guys would hang out in the garage before a race.

Yours and Oscar’s mothers took care of most of the things regarding the venue, the flower arrangements and catering, wanting to take the load off of you while you were halfway across the world.

The only thing that you had to worry about was picking your wedding dress and flying over to Australia to get married.

And when the day had finally come, excitement flowed through your veins.

Nicole and Oscar’s sisters had helped do your hair and make-up, your mother only watching as she sobbed quietly in the background.

“Mom, you’re gonna make me cry too if you don’t stop” you told her as you watched her through your mirror, making the other girls laugh.

“I just can’t believe my baby is getting married” she laughed, wiping her tears and walking up to stand behind you.

You smiled and took her hand, mostly to calm your nerves as well.

You were really getting married. And to the love of your life, which was a plus.

After you were prepped and ready to go, your father came to fetch you to walk you down the aisle. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you held his arm tightly and clutched the flower bouquet tightly in your other hand.

But your nerves disappeared like they had never even been there when the doors opened and you locked eyes with Oscar waiting for you at the end of the aisle, Logan beaming behind him as his best man.

The ceremony went by in a blur, the only focus on your part being on Oscar. You only vaguely remembered saying your vows and saying “I do”, your memory only having imprinted the first kiss you two shared as husband and wife.

You were positive that nothing could ever top this moment, getting married with all of your friends and families present, stepping into your new life with Oscar by your side.

Nothing could ever be better.

Nothing could top you becoming Mrs. Piastri.

Being Mr. and Mrs. Piastri.

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rainylana · 2 days

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“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #requests #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 days

Text

a waste of a beautiful dress - n. hischier

summary: an unhappy valentine's day date doesn't always end up with you watching lord of the rings alone with a glass of wine...at least, not when a certain captain can help it

warnings: talks of sex/bad date, mention of alcohol consumption, descriptions of the above facial injury, swearing, cutesy 2.1k thing

a/n: this is a short imagine-thing i wrote on valentine's day that i kind of forgot about (i was gonna write more but i just couldn't think of what to do, so if the ending's weird, that's why!) and i didn't want to not publish this for you guys, so...enjoy!

“Is everything okay?”

You blinked, the elevator coming back to focus around you, the walls distorting the reflection of someone that, rather against your will, you’d found growing increasingly familiar with each week. The bottle of wine in your grasp felt suddenly heavier under his careful scrutiny, and you felt your fist tighten around it, almost protectively.

You could only imagine what you looked like: nice clothes – maybe a little too nice for an evening stroll or a walk around the block, and a tarnished, almost numb expression on your face, even despite the conflicted tornado swirling inside your mind. There was no doubt he’d deciphered your distracted look and the dejection written so plainly on your face. Yet, though you knew what he saw, you refused to feel pity for yourself.

You inhaled, plastering a tight smile on your face as you looked towards him, his beloved beanie on his head and a backpack on his shoulders. His head was dipped a little, a slight furrow between his brows, ever telling of his caring tendencies, and you suddenly felt a little better, even despite the previous events.

“I’m fine.” You tried, slyly moving the bottle further out of his sight. It didn’t work: his eyes seemed to catch the slight motion before meeting yours, a look of disbelief on his face, “You?” You asked, desperate to turn his attention away from you.

Nico Hischier wasn’t someone you’d have found yourself chatting to casually mere months ago, at least not past the usual pleasantries. Though, it seemed the mutual friends and the many parties had oiled that creaking joint somewhere along the way, and – hesitantly – you were friends to some degree. So much so that every so often the two of you may find yourselves in the other’s apartment with a mug of coffee or a glass of wine in hand with something playing on the TV.

Of course, no one else knew about that.

He sighed, leaning back against the mirror opposite you. There was a cut under his eye you hadn’t seen immediately, but when he leant back the light seemed to catch the green skin and the scratch. He seemed to notice your concerned wince before you could point it out, his hand flying up to lightly press underneath it, “It’s fine, I just caught a puck yesterday.”

Before he could say anything else, and you knew he would because he started to frown again, you interrupted, a slight laugh of mirth passing your lips, “No big deal.”

He froze a little, but still a smile replaced the apprehension as he shook his head, "Better my cheek than my teeth.”

“That’s true.” You grinned in agreement, attention immediately turning to the opening doors as they dinged, your floor appearing before you.

“After you.” Nico gestured, following closely behind as you both wandered to the end of the hall, your eyes glued to the patterned tiles beneath your feet, before a thought suddenly struck you, and with some urgency.

“Do you have Arnica?” You turned to Nico, your hand hovering under your own eye when he blinked in confusion, shaking his head, “For your eye? It helps with pain and bruising.”

“Uh…”

“Unless you want to keep your battle scar?” You teased lightly, unzipping your bag to pull out your keys, only to notice his still-close presence by your shoulder, even despite being outside your door.

You looked up, only to be met with a sheepish smile, one that you knew meant you’d caught him, but he shrugged, “The Arnica seems sensible.”

“Sensible?” You pushed your key through the door, turning the lock.

“It’s not much of a battle scar when a rubber disc wins.” He rationalised, walking through your doorway when you held it open for him and immediately gravitating towards the cat bed towards the far end of your apartment.

By the time you’d locked the door, shed your coat and placed your bag and the wine on the counter, he’d returned, still in his coat, beanie and backpack with a fond look on his face, your cat snuggled in his arms with no complaints of the attention except a rumbling, contented purr.

His eyes seemed to drop to your dress, and widen a little, and you knew there was absolutely no dodging his questions, not when he seemed to grow a little wary and dart his gaze to the bottle of wine on the counter.

“Did you have any Valentine’s plans today?” he asked lightly, briefly turning his attention back to the cat in his arms, most likely to give you a moment to steel yourself.

You hesitated, adjusting the straps on your dress. Nico was lovely, you knew that; he’d never once said or done anything to make you feel uncomfortable, but there was something more serious and vulnerable as to what you were about to say – lying wasn’t really in the cards, mostly because you knew he knew whatever had happened already hadn’t particularly ended well.

He’d caught you on the verge of tears in an elevator by yourself, clutching a bottle of wine, for fuck’s sake. You didn’t do that on Valentine’s day unless something had gone wrong.

“I did.” You breathed, quickly wiping down the counter surface and avoiding looking at him, trying to fight the embarrassment clawing its way up your throat, threatening to spill colour onto your cheeks.

You had nothing to be embarrassed about whatsoever.

He said nothing, just watched you carefully, keeping his distance. If you didn’t want to talk about it, you knew he wouldn’t even press the subject.

“I had a date earlier–” out of the corner of your eye, you saw his gaze cut to the clock on the wall: half-past six. “It didn’t go well.”

He nodded, treading carefully with his words, “How come?”

“He made some comments that I couldn’t really ignore, and when I asked him about it, y’know, to just clarify some things, he kicked off, I corrected him, he sulked, and then left halfway through when I went to the toilet.” You said in one breath, feeling your skin prickle with the reminder of the entire ordeal, scrubbing at a spot on the counter – sometimes grease just didn't budge.

There was the dull thud of paws against your floor, and you looked up to see Nico standing at the opposite side of the counter, an unreadable expression on his face. His brows were pulled together, but there was no telltale crease; his mouth was parted, but in a way that suggested he was a bit more hesitant at finding out what you had to say than a mortified scowl.

“What did he say?” His tone of voice was unwavering, but the slight edge to it sent your heart pounding a little harder nonetheless.

He had a sister, he was probably thinking of all the worst possible scenarios.

You felt your voice get caught in your throat, and you found yourself wishing you’d never even been this honest with him in the first place, because you felt…embarrassed, almost, to admit it fully, “He made a ‘my place or yours after this’ comment and I told him I didn’t want to sleep with him, so he left the first chance he got.” You said quietly, still making yourself busy with tidying the kitchen.

You inhaled deeply, spinning on your heel and fiddling with some of the utensils before you could gain the courage to even look in his direction. You didn’t want to see him pity you.

Except, when you did look up, you saw none of the pity you’d been expecting. In fact, his mouth was pressed firmly shut, and when he caught you looking at him, he – very insistently – muttered, “Well, he’s a fucking dick.”

You felt the corners of your mouth twitch up in some hint of a smile, “Thanks.”

Then, almost like it did in the elevator, the light seemed to catch the shiner under his eye, reminding you of the very reason he’d walked through your threshold in the first place, and you began to wander through the hallway, “I’ll go get the Arnica.”

He nodded in response, shucking his coat and draping it across the back of one of the stools, before bending down to stroke the cat nuzzling at his shins. You rounded the corner into your bathroom, rifling through the cupboard for the tube of cream, before making your way back into the living area, the tube outstretched in your hand.

He took it from you gently, leaning his elbows across the countertop as he read the information on the back of it silently.

“What about you?” You asked, and he looked up, “Any Valentine’s Day plans?”

He blinked, sighing, “I laid in bed for an hour longer than usual.” He said simply, “Then I went to a late morning skate, came home, watched some TV, went to the gym, and now I’m here. So, no, not really.” He inhaled, and you felt yourself grow a little uneasy when he started poking the swelling under his eye, looking into his phone to apply the cream, “You got any more plans?”

Your eyes darted to the bottle of wine, “I was gonna drink wine and watch Lord of the Rings.”

He breathed a startled laugh, “Sounds like a good plan.”

“It is.” You agreed, pausing to consider something, before taking a breath, “Do you wanna join me?”

It wasn’t something you’d never done with each other before; in fact, the two of you seemed to get along better without a cacophony of people interrupting (though that wasn’t much of a surprise), however there was something more delicate and meaningful in the knowledge of the day: Valentine’s Day was undoubtedly something that was weighing on both your minds. It was impossible not to – the posts on social media, the love hearts plastered in shop windows and the flowers everywhere didn’t let you forget it.

It just felt different, somehow.

Nico’s fingers faltered under his eye, and he looked up, brown eyes a little wider than usual, with his mouth parted in surprise. Evidently, he’d been thinking along similar lines to you, but Valentine’s Day wasn’t just about romance and love and whatnot: it was also just another day.

He blinked, eyes searching your face for regret in asking, or for some sign that he should turn down your offer, no matter how tantalising it was.

“It’s not gonna drink itself.” You joked lamely, watching as he slowly nodded, ducking his head down to mask the smile you knew was now on his face.

“Are you sure?” He mumbled, placing his phone on the counter and screwing the top back onto the cream. His eye was now shining a little, but it gave you inexplicable comfort to know that it was at least taken care of temporarily.

Even looking at it seemed to send a dull ache thrumming across your cheekbone.

“I’m sure.”

Then: “Did you eat on that date?” He asked, raising a brow.

“No.”

He frowned, but showed nothing to say he was particularly shocked by that answer, and stood up from the stool very quickly – quick enough to startled the cat, and quick enough to have to catch the stool from falling over in his haste, “Do you maybe want to get something to eat, first? I know a good place a couple of blocks away.”

You stuttered, not entirely expecting such a spontaneous proposal, “Sure, I just—I should change first, though.”

His eyes dragged down your figure, and for the first time ever, you found yourself trying to regain control of the sudden blush that threatened to stain your cheeks, before he tutted, met your eyes, smiled and shook his head, dimples as clear as they’d ever been. There was something bright in his eye, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d assume there was some mischief lingering there – as though he knew exactly what you were refraining from doing under his gaze.

“Personally,” he started off slowly, “I think it’d be a waste of a beautiful dress.”

You sucked the inside of your cheek, looking down at your dress. It was beautiful, though arguably it had already been wasted on the day considering the hellish date experience, but maybe eating out with Nico would change that?

“In that case…” You trailed off, grabbing your coat and slipping your shoes back on, “But–” You whirled around, Nico’s hand going suspiciously fast to cover his mouth, though the crinkles by his eyes certainly told you everything you needed to know, and arched an accusing brow in his direction, “I’m changing when we get back.”

“Fine by me.” He held up his hands in surrender, mouth pressed tightly together to prevent himself from laughing, and you rolled your eyes at his innocent act, but said nothing.

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier fic #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey player x reader #hockey fic

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dazaiandhislovelybandages · 2 days

Note

15. "I'll keep kissing you." "Until you're sick of it?" "Until I can't think of anything else but you." For Gojo? Like s/o was feeling insecure if he really wants to date her but this is how he reassures her that he loves her dearly?

Quite The Romantics {Gojo Satoru}

A/n: thank you for requesting, I hope you like the outcome

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem! reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and overall angst, implied sexual activity

Being in a relationship with the strongest sorcerer alive was easy. The late night calls that signalled missions, him worrying about his students, the higher ups... everything was manageable. It helped that you were also a sorcerer so you knew what the dangers were and Gojo didn't have to keep things a secret in order to protect you.

Being in a relationship with the most handsome man you've ever seen was not easy. It had been a mutual agreement to keep things lowkey and so far it had been fine. The students knew about you two and they were fully supportive and excited when they saw the two of you together inside the school grounds but things were not so simple outside of campus.

Gojo and you didn't share a home, yet at least since he had been pestering you for a month to move in with him; having a huge and luxurious apartment always had its perks. So when it came to dates there were only two options: either Gojo would pick you up or you would meet him at the date spot.

With your line of work, the latter was what usually worked best.

Tonight's date had been marvellous. From the food to the music to the view, you had to hand it to him; Gojo Satoru had taste. And even after the date, when the two of you returned to his place... everything was perfect. Perfect apart from one thing.

"Where's your little mind travelling?" Gojo returned from the bathroom, grey sweatpants on and a white towel on his head. The usual scent of sex had now been replaced by the smell of his body lotion and shampoo: roses.

You were a little hesitant to reply and in your mind it was only natural. Who wouldn't be nervous when the love of their life was asking them what is going?

"Oh no!" He plopped next to you on the bed, a small smirk on his face. "Can I guess?" He nuzzled his face in the crook of your head, his arm already wrapped around your waist.

"Go on." You sighed and turned on your side, facing him. Something about the way he hugged you felt comforting and you knew he knew it. It was a small trick Gojo always had up his sleeve that not even he knew how he had found out.

"Is it about the girl that came up to me while I was waiting for you at the restaurant? Don't be shy with me honey." He giggled. That bastard knew what he was doing and your silence wasn't helping your case. "I knew it." He pulled away from you with a smile.

You didn't want to admit it. Mostly because you were confident in yourself and in your relationship with him. But there were times when you could see other people flirting with him and something in you broke. You weren't nearly as confident as him, nor that much of an outgoing person and your ego was in normal levels. So what was stopping him from breaking up with you to find someone else?

Being in a relationship with Gojo Satoru only had perks. Gojo knew you better than anyone. He knew how to make you laugh, how to make you moan, how to make you stop crying. He also knew how to touch and kiss you.

"What are you doing?" You tried pushing him away but he was strong and he wasn't letting go of you. Pushing him away, especially when laughing at the same time, was never easy and you knew it, but you still did it anyway. Not because you wanted him away from you but because you wanted to piss him off.

"I'm kissing you." He laughed, placing another small peck on your collarbone before travelling up to your neck and then your cheeks and then your mouth.

"Haven't you kissed me enough already?"

"I'll keep doing it, I don't care."

"Until you're sick of it?"

"Until I know you know I can't think of anything else but you."

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leaderwonim · 2 days

Text

unconditional love. ✧ park sunghoon x fem!reader genre: bittersweet fluff, coming of age angst

you liked park sunghoon, you truly did. he was kind, intelligent, and had that soft introverted persona on the outside.

when you got to know him, he became the most funny and loudest person to ever exist, which had your heart doing backflips.

it wasn’t him that was the issue. it was you. you always had commitment issues, never being able to settle down because of your past pulling you behind. i mean—how could anyone ever like you? you felt as thought you were too loud, too annoying, too irritable, just too much.

despite your brain constantly bringing you down, park sunghoon loved you. he loved every single piece of you, the way you’d blow your perfect hair out of your face as you concentrated on the textbook in front of you, the way your eyebrows would furrow when you didn’t quite catch a question or answer, the way you’d prop your head onto your knees as a way to comfort yourself.

god, park sunghoon swore you were the one. he didn’t care that his friends warned him about your earned title of being a ghoster when it came to relationships, he didn’t care that it felt like he was constantly putting in more effort than you.

as long as he’s got you, he doesn’t care. so how did the two of you end up in this situation?

“i don’t get it,” sunghoon frowns, “what did i do wrong?”

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say exasperatedly, “in fact, you were perfect sunghoon. you were everything i wanted and more—it’s just me.”

park sunghoon hated the classic it’s me not you excuse when it came to situations like these. but because it’s you, he lets it slide, even though he already feels the tears coming.

“i don’t want to hurt you any longer, hoonie. you have to understand i’m ending this because i care about you too much to put you through hell.”

sunghoon solemnly nods, knowing whatever he’ll say won’t change anything, that it’s already too late and you’ve already made up your mind.

it’s cruel, he thinks. life. how it could be so depressing and meekly all at once.

it wasn’t until a year later that sunghoon and you crossed paths again. you two were now sophomores in college, and had even attended the same university.

you had gotten a boyfriend, finally deciding to settle down after maturing and realizing how much of a piece of shit you were to all the boys at your high school.

his name was heeseung and he had treated you like a princess, reminding you of how sunghoon used to treat you back in senior year.

now here you were, sitting on one of the university steps with your head hung low. your parents had given you the call about them divorcing, right in the middle of your sophomore year. you were miles away, and was heartbroken knowing your family was splitting in two without you being there physically to support them.

“hey, you okay?”

you knew that voice better than anyone.

“hoon?” you sniffle. “i’m sorry—why am i even calling you that.”

“it’s okay.” he reassures you, patting your back as he takes a seat. “what’s wrong?”

“parents are getting divorce,” you scoff. “guess thats karma for all the things i put you through.”

“don’t say that.” sunghoon gently wipes away your tears, frowning when he sees more appear.

“you shouldn’t even be comforting me, i treated you like shit sunghoon, i got a new boyfriend right after i said i couldn’t settle down with you.”

“who cares?” sunghoon says, and for the first time, you don’t see the romantic love he used to have in his eyes for you. “we’re young! of course you’re going to find other people.”

you’re in awe at the maturity sunghoon is displaying. you knew it took a lot of courage for him to do so.

“why are you being so nice, sunghoon?”

“the world is already cruel, yn.” sunghoon sighs. “so therefore, i won’t be.”

and although his words won’t stop the divorce of your parents or the sadness filling your chest, it makes you feel a tad bit lighter, knowing that you had someone like park sunghoon in your life.

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lv2mt · 17 hours

Text

hungry

this is my first time writing smut feel free to give me any tips☺️

the sun was reflecting of his skin, sweat was dripping off his body, the way he would bite his lips out of frustration. you was mesmerized by the married man in font of you.

you had known art for a couple of years you both meet up a lot there has never been sexual tension between you and art but recently he's all you've ever needed.

art finished his practice and you both went back to his car, for some reason the car drive was silent but you didn't mind because being with him just made your mind go to the most dirtiest imagination.

"y/n?" art said breaking the silence "yeah" i took my eyes of the window to look at him, he looked frustrated like he needed something. "i need to talk to you about something" he looked back at me but his eyes travelled to my lips then back on the road.

my body knew what he wanted and it turned me on even more. "sure what's up?" his hand gripped on the wheel making his hand pop out in veins. "this tension between us, i can't help but want you" i was shocked hearing that come out his mouth but it made me hungry for him.

i didn't know what to say i wanted him to have me, do anything to me but i just couldn't think of how to word it. "this tension i feel it your all i can think about but you have a wife art i don't want to ruin that for you" i said still looking at him but then looked out the window to notice he's pulled up in some empty parking lot.

he turned his head to look at me, his eyes was cold like he was demanding that he wanted me. “don’t worry about her” his tone of voice sounded so careless but it was attractive.

i couldn’t hold it in anymore i took the lead and kissed him, his lips was soft our lips just felt meant for each other like a jigsaw piece.

he slipped his tongue in my mouth, one hand traveling to my hips as the other on my cheek. our breaths filling up the car, all i could think about was him in me i needed it, i needed it now.

“you don’t know how much i’ve been needing this” art said in between kissing, “oh yea baby” his lips moving down to my neck marking it as his and i loved it.

he pulled back his seat and i sat on his lap his hand traveling up my summer dress, his fingers rubbing my heat feeling the wetness of my panties. “already this wet hm” his voice sounded so hot “mhm”

his fingers now in me, at first he was going slow i knew what he wanted, he wanted me to beg and that’s what i did “art go faster please” he smiled looking at me, mesmerised by the woman who’s begging for him. his pace fastens even putting another finger up me, my head on his chest moaning.

“you feel so good” i try to say “oh yea?” art replies back then slowing his pace and pulling out his fingers, he then continues to lick the cum of them, i needed him in me i couldn’t wait much longer but he already knew that.

i lifted up a bit so he could take his shorts and boxers off while i took my thong off, we didn’t have a condom but i was on the pill so that didn’t matter. “you ready baby” he asked i nodded in approval.

his big dick going in me stretching me out, my eyes watering from the slight pain but that soon went as i started to thrust on him making us both moan.

the car shaking making it obvious what we was doing on the outside but we didn’t care, the thought of us getting caught just made it even more sexy.

our lips numbing from the force of us making out. “y/n i’m gonna cum” them words coming out his mouth triggered me to go even faster. hearing the moans and grunts coming out his mouth was like listening to music.

the faster i got the more closer we both was so coming it wouldn’t take long now. his hands gripped on my waist and his head rolled back leaving a empty space on his neck, i kissed all down it making one of his hand grip on my hair.

a couple of minutes went by and i felt his warm load in me and mine on his. he was still in me but we was still, not moving and now just catching our breaths. i lifted myself back up making his dick exit me.

he put his boxer and shorts back on n i put my panties back on making us now clothed again. “your neck” art said shocked of what he did, i moved and sat back in the passenger seat getting my phone and looking in the camera.

my eyes widened the trail of hickeys all down my neck “oh my god art!” i said but i didn’t bother me it shows that i am now his. we both laughed about my neck “i guess i was just in the moment to even realise” we both just laughed and smiled at each other.

“that was fun” i said hoping to get the same response back “we should do it again be our little secret” i once again nodded my head as approval and he gave me a peck on my head.

#art donaldson #challengers #mike faist #art donaldson x reader #mike faist x you #smut fanfiction #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

Okay here's one. I really dont think I'm the asshole but my ex sure does.

AITA for refusing to buy my partner a jar of pickles?

So this story has like, a little background and some confounding factors i think but i really could go both ways on whether i was the asshole.

Ill start with both my ex (21nb) and i (23f) had severe mental health issues and were working on treatment when we were together. Theyd been in and out of inpatient stays throughout our three year relationship. Towards the Day of Pickles, i had my first inpatient stay where i got help i desperately needed to keep myself safe. This happened to be about a week after my 23rd birthday, but about two and a half weeks before their 21st birthday.

Anyway, at that time i had just gotten out of the hospital and started a new job at Joanns Fabrics (i outlived that retail fucker and im proud of it). I had been unemployed for the previous year and a half because of the pandemic and so the retail job was really my saving grace to have some sort of income to buy gas and groceries. My parents let me live rent free with them in their basement but i spent a LOT of time essentially squatting at my ex's dorm because my situation with my parents was not great.

Now my ex was also being financially abused by their mom so they had a monthly "allowance" of 200$ (of their own money they made at their on campus job) and no access to their bank statements. So i spent a lot of my own money on gas and groceries for both of us, and anything we wanted to do for fun, like visit the city. Without an income, this was SUPER stressful for me and i spiraled pretty hard with feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness. Supporting two people, even minimal living expenses, on an income of exactly 0$ is the WORST.

Anyway, i got out of the hospital and pretty much immediately went back to picking up as many shifts as i could at work because id been on staff for all of two weeks before hospitalization. Knowing retail, i was probably on the precipice of losing hours or being fired altogether.

My ex wanted me to take time off to celebrate their 21st birthday (they didnt celebrate my birthday that year) and travel to see their family and drink etc. I got scheduled for an inconvenient time. I would have to miss their birthday if i didnt find someone to cover. I managed to switch shifts with another coworker who was nice enough to let me have her morning shift, so i was able to at least travel separately and be a little late to dinner.

The night of their birthday my ex wanted to get drunk and so we went to the liquor store. Now im generally pretty picky about alcohol but if i get anything special i always get enough to share. Mysteriously, no one ever offers to share the expense or pay me back. So with all of 150$ in my account, i purchased enough alcohol for myself and the rest of the party, and a bottle of (cheap af) liquor for myself. I was broke af until my next paycheck and was pretty much planning on giving up meals and staying at home because the commute to work was shorter and meant less gas.

My ex picked out a jar of boozy pickles and asked if i would get it for them for their birthday. I should note that with all the stress i was under i had found a birthday present for them but hadnt actually placed the order (was waiting to get paid). I also didnt lie to them about this and had told them that i hadnt gotten their birthday present yet. They were upset by this and told me they felt like i didnt care about them, to which i snapped and raised my voice a little.

I gave them a bit of a reality check. I told them in no uncertain terms that i was under a lot of stress, from nearly killing myself to being flat broke with little to no help from my family other than a conditional roof over my head, ordering their birthday present wasnt super high on my list of things to do and that i knew what i was going to get them and that i intended to order it as soon as i had the money to do so. After years of the sole attention being focused on keeping them alive, i needed some support and acting like i didnt care completely ignored EVERYTHING i did to keep us both afloat.They cried and played the victim as they tended to do and i was too stressed to do anything but be angry.

So when they asked for the pickles i told them no. I have NOTHING left in my bank account, and anything that was in my account was already allocated for something else.

They told me i was being selfish for buying myself alcohol on THEIR birthday, not even getting them a present, yelling at them, and then refusing to buy the one thing they asked for, especially after i refused to take off work the day before to hang out with them and their family. In front of our friends.

I told them that i was purchasing the alcohol for the whole party, that the present had slipped my mind, and that they were accusing me of not caring about them when i snapped. Then i walked out.

My bff went outside to help me cool down and i told him what was going on and how stressed i was and he said that he agreed with me, it was childish to expect me to pay for everything with no help from anyone and then act like im unreasonable for having to put limits on what i can purchase.

My ex ended up getting so pissed by all of this they broke up with me two days later, saying that their birthday was the final straw for them after I'd been so codependent and relying on them too much to survive.

I think its all ridiculous given all of the stress factors i was dealing with at the time. I feel like we're all entitled to the occasional emotional outburst/bouts of forgetfulness when we're stressed. But my ex seems to think im a selfish asshole. We've been no contact for the last two years so this isnt like a pressing concern or anything but it does make me roll my eyes occasionally.

So tumblr, aita?

(Btw im also much more financially stable now that I'm fully and properly medicated and away from them.)

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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moremousewrites · 3 days

Text

Alone With You

Pairing: Rolanxf!Reader

Summary: Rolan has been taking out his anger on you ever since you've arrived at the Last Light Inn. You finally get fed up and snap at him, which leads you feeling bit guilty. You try to make it up to him and let him take out his anger on you yet again

Tags: smut, PiV sex, degradation, hate sex, light angst, tail sucking, face fucking, creampie

Of all the people you could have found in the depths of the shadow cursed lands, why did it have to be Rolan. You groaned as you watched him fire off magic missles, clearly overwhelmed by the wraiths that were clawing at him.

“Why couldn't he just stay at the Inn?” You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your hand down your face. You were in no mood to be dealing with his egotistical bullshit. You told him you would save his siblings.

You ran down the hill, your party in tow. The look of despair on Rolan's face was hard to miss. Shadowheart made quick work of two of the wraiths and you finished the others with a few focused attacks. The fight was over in moments and Rolan approached you, fuming.

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right- not a damn thing!” He yelled to himself, though his ire was pointed at you. It had been all night. Ever since you stepped foot in the Last Light Inn, he'd been taking out his rage on you. You knew it was misdirected, he was scared and insecure. But your patience was running very thin.

“You shouldn't be here, Rolan” you said through gritted teeth. The tiefling had every right to be upset, but he was really grating on your nerves tonight.

“Yes, I should,” he challenged. “I came here to save Cal and Lia. Instead, I found myself in need of rescue. From you… of all bloody people” he scowled at you, referring to you as if you were the scum of the realm.

You gripped the lantern so hard you thought it might splinter. “Unbelievable. I have been nothing but nice to you, you self absorbed prick. You wanna do something for your siblings? Stop trying to get yourself killed for your ego, sober up, and pull yourself together” you chastised him, fed up with his attitude.

Rolan looked as though he had more to say, but held his tongue and walked back in the direction to the Inn. You figured it was for the best. If he said one more thing you thought you might smack that repugnant look off his face.

You watched him conjure a transportation spell back to the Inn. He stomped his way into the bar and the portal closed behind him. Rude he didn't offer to transport you as well but at least he was gone.

“Gods, he's a piece of work” you said, rubbing your temples from the stressful encounter.

Shadowheart raised a brow at you. “Is that what you think of him?” She asked, in a curious manner.

You eyed her, suspiciously. “I think he's probably very scared about his siblings being captured and he's blaming me because that's something he can control right now,” you explained, not very comfortable with her tone. “I also don't care to be his stress relief. He can deal with it like a big boy or deal with it alone. It's not my problem” you were firm in your resolve. Whatever she was implying, you weren't taking the bait.

“If you're sure” Shadowheart shrugged and walked on. Of course you were sure, you just explained it to her.

You walked the rest of the way in silence, too irritated to say anything productive. You noticed the bar at the Inn was empty. Maybe what you said to Rolan finally got through to him.

A small part of you felt bad for chewing him out and you felt you should apologize before he took off again. You asked Jaheira if she'd seen him and she shrugged. She mentioned he might have gone to a spare room but she wasn't sure. You thanked her and made your way around the Inn. After looking in some of the guest rooms you started to think he'd gone off again. You checked the Inn more frantically, scouring every room until you found one last door.

For some reason, you felt the urge to listen through the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and tried to silence the loud beat of your heart in your ears.

At first, you heard nothing. Then, after a few moments, you heard his voice. It was strangled, and low. Unlike how you'd heard him speak before. Almost as if it were a purr. You were so relieved to hear his voice you didn't even process what you were listening to. You immediately knocked on the door.

“Zurgan- leave me alone!” you heard him answer from the other side of the door. His voice was pitchy, like he was straining from something.

You rolled your eyes. “Rolan, it's me, we need to talk” you placed your hand on the door handle, clicking it open.

“No! No- don't!” opening the door, you were at a loss for words. The wizard apprentice was sprawled out on the bed, shirt removed, fisting his cock with fervor. You shut the door behind you. “Gods damn it, why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” He let go of himself, dropping his hand on the bed and giving you a stare that could cut you into pieces.

“I'm sorry, I-” you started to apologize.

“No, enough of your sorries! You have no respect for my life, for my privacy, or anyone's for that matter. You just go around involving yourself wherever you think it makes you important and don't stick around to see it through” he ranted at you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his cock. It was still fully erect.

“I'm sorry” you walked over to him, eyes taking him in. His normally upkept hair was completely disheveled and framed his face which was glistening with sweat. He'd been fucking his hand furiously. The image it brought to your mind filled you with a heat deep inside you.

He guffawed at you, furious. “Did you not hear a word I said? Are you dull?” he watched in awe as you sank to your knees at the side of his bed, eyes looking at him in expectation.

Rolan sat up to face you, feet on either side of you, his cock poking at his navel. “You think I want to fuck you? After everything you've done to me?” He fisted your hair and tilted back your head. You noticed his tail was twitching excitedly.

His eyes followed yours to his tail and he groaned. He stood, grasping your jaw so it hung open. “I'd tell you to breathe but I don't care,” he said before thrusting into your open mouth.

Even with his big talk, he showed restraint. His hips only rutting shallow thrusts and he was clearly focused on slowing his pace. You gripped the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer.

“You brat” he huffed, thrusting harder. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you narrowed your eyes to look up at him. You were going to be a brat, alright. Your hand moved upwards, carefully locating the base of his tail, and you grasped it lightly.

Rolan's shocked sputtering was a satisfying result of your plotting. He pulled you off of him in a quick motion and grabbed your wrist. “What is wrong with you?!” He sounded exasperated.

“Oh you didn't like that? It kind of felt like you did when your cock was twitching in my throat” you grinned at him.

Rolan pulled you onto the bed, grunting as he did. He was deceptively strong for a wizard. You were bent forward, your ass lifted for him as your face pressed into the mattress. “Will you just shut up already?” he pulled your pants down your thighs and you felt his tail wrap around your naked thigh, firmly.

You felt the head of his rigid cock press against your hole. You could tell you were soaked as he pressed the tip against you. Letting out a loud whine, Rolan snapped his hips, driving himself into you. “I said shut up!” He set a bruising pace, forcing you down into the mattress with his hips while a hand pressed your shoulder down.

You could feel his infernal ridges dragging against the walls of your cunt, pulling out to slam back into you as you moaned out his name.

“The brave adventurer moaning my name like a whore. What would your friends think if they knew you were taking a foulbloods cock like a dirty slut? Fucking pathetic” he pounded into you harder, his tail flexing against your leg.

Your back arched deeper and you rocked your hips to his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin was echoing against the walls of the room, only to be quieted by your moans.

You looked back to your thigh to see the tip of his tail was twitching frantically. He was restraining it. You reached back and stroked the tip with your thumb, eliciting a strangled moan from the tiefling. Cautiously, he unfurled it and let you take it in your grasp. You lightly ran your fingers on the edges of his tail, testing the sensitivity while he tried to compose himself. It was clear by his sporadic pace and breathy moans that his tail was incredibly sensitive. As an experiment, you ran the flat of your tongue along the tip of his tail. Rolan nearly collapsed on you.

“W-wait” he stuttered, composure lost. He'd stopped moving entirely, disappointing you.

“What's wrong?” You asked, innocently. You pressed a kiss to his tail and felt him shudder around you.

“It's too much, really. I won't last” he breathed out.

You licked again, lighter this time, then gave a dark grin. “I don't care,” you said before stuffing the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tail and humming.

Rolan cursed at you and lifted his leg onto the bed to fuck into you mercilessly. The unforgiving pace and intense angle was overwhelming. You were fastly approaching your climax along with him. Rolan felt as your cunt clenched around him and in an effort to bring you to completion, he brought his fingers to your clit to finish you off, making you squeal around his tail.

The combined pleasures of your orgasm and your mouth pushed him over the edge, causing him to come deep inside of you. In his exhaustion, he grabbed you and collapsed on his side, still buried in your aching cunt.

For a while, you didn't say anything. His tail had slipped out of your mouth and his spend was seeping out of you while his cock softened. But you laid still in his arms while the afterglow diminished.

From behind you, you heard a faint sound. He was saying something so quiet you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

“What?” You asked, quietly.

“I said I'm sorry” he replied. You nodded, not wanting to press on the issue.

“It's okay. Do you want me to stay?” You asked, unsure of what he needed.

Rolan didn't respond for a moment, ashamed to say yes. Ashamed to say he needed you again. That you really weren't the bane of his existence and that he was scared of being alone. Instead, he held you closer.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan/tav

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muwapsturniolo · 16 hours

Text

✯𝐖𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐞✯

chris x black earthy/boho!reader

IN WHICH…we take a dive into the relationship between Chris and y/n, and how their love for each other is beyond compare.

WARNINGS: just fluff.

PT.1

Y/n wasn’t looking for a relationship and she sure as hell wasn’t looking for love either. So she was shocked when Chris Sturniolo came out of nowhere and fell into her life.

She remembers how they met.

She was at a flea market, looking for new decor in her home. She had her mind set on a few plants and maybe even some artwork from a local artist. She was looking at a jewelry stand when Chris noticed her.

He recognized her instantly, having watched almost all of her YouTube videos. He stood in place, watching her carefully examine the handmade jewelry. He walked over to her, calling out her name, however, she couldn’t hear him over Erykah Badu singing in her ear. He ended up tapping her on her shoulder which caught her attention.

She took off the green headphones and stared at him, “could I help you with something?”

The two talked and talked, and talked. Chris ended up ditching his friend and brothers to walk around with her. He bought her food, talked about music, and even traded numbers with her.

From there the two became close, close enough to develop mutual crushes on each other. The only problem was that Y/n was scared.

She was scared with how fast she was falling for Chris. This was something new, something fresh, something innocent.

She wasn’t innocent.

She was damaged.

She knew that her mind was fucked up due to her previous relationship. She hated it, she wished Chris was her first love. She wished she wasn’t fucked up so she wouldn’t hurt him in the long run.

But she wanted it, she wanted whatever it was her and Chris were blossoming into. She wanted it for better or worse.

Chris saw her hesitancy when it came to him, he saw the battle going on in her mind when it came to her emotions towards him. So he did his best to prove he’s all in.

He did his best to give words of reassurance, he sent her flowers on her upload days to show her support, he searched for limited edition vinyls for her, He even made her a care basket when he realized she was on her period.

Y/n appreciated it all, she never took it for granted. She felt herself changing since Chris came into her life and for that,

He had her love. He had it and he could have it forever, because he earned it.

She vibed with Chris, she vibed with him on a higher frequency than she ever has with anyone else. They were so in sync in certain areas of life it scared her at first, but she grew to love it.

She loved what she had found with Chris and she vowed to herself to never do anything to mess it up. Little did she know Chris made the same vow.

They just had this motion between them that everyone could see, it was powerful, admirable, emotional.

They had the juice.

And they knew it.

There were times when Y/n would stare at Chris, thinking about how he magically appeared in her life and flipped it upside down for the better. She would run it back, replaying the moment he tapped her on her shoulder and smiled.

She replayed all the memories they’d created, the laughter, the new experiences, even their first time having sex.

She came to the conclusion that he was the one.

And she was back to being scared.

She couldn’t believe how fast she fell and connected with him, it drove her crazy but she still wanted him.

Chris felt the same way.

It was no secret Chris had a problem with relationships, never being able to commit due to his own fear of being hurt. He was prone to self-sabotaging.

But she made it easy for him the same way he made it easy for her. She wasn’t like the rest of the girls in LA who only cared about fame money, and clothes.

She didn’t care about his sneakers or how he dressed or how much money he made. She loved him for him, she loved his family, she loved... And all he could do was be grateful and return the favor.

They understood eachother, the were on the same wavelength, they were twin flames.

They had the juice.

AHHHH IM SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT BUT I WAS JUST TRYING TO CREATE THE VIBE OF THE SONG.

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n @freshsturns @adoreindie @sturnstvr

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris girl #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt girl #fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #x reader #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets fluff

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quin-ns · 2 days

Text

The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.

At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

#stepbrother!jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #step bro!jj maybank #the blue #obx #outer banks #quin-ns writing

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 2 days

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hiiiii i'm here to give you a big hug and request a 1k prompt 🙌

1. a biiiiiig hug

2. as for the (hehe smutty) prompt!

i think i would LOVE to see ed feeling vulnerable and safe enough to share with stede that a lot of things don't work for him in bed because of his knee and at first he is cautious and worries stede will get angry or frustrated with him, but of course stede showers him with love and care and thinks of a hundred ways to have sex that are not painful or uncomfortable for him 🫶

Ooh I really loved this one, thanks so much for sending it in (and sending you a hug right back)! Get absolutely adored and cherished Ed!!

Under the cut since this one's a bit nsfw! I'd put it at a strong M rating, no explicit sexual content but obviously it's about sex.

Ed had never really owned up to how fucking inconvenient the knee could make things, not before.

See, there are certain things that are mood- killers, and then there are things that are straight-up dangerous to admit, and Ed’s little problem was both. The hookups Ed was used to wouldn’t just laugh at him for being in pain during sex, they would’ve taken it as a sign of weakness. A sign that Ed was vulnerable, weak, easy to exploit and to harm.

So, usually, he just put up with it. If it was awful, like if a guy pushed his legs back, forcing the knee to bend at a harsh angle, he might find some excuse to change it up, but usually he just closed his eyes and hoped his grunts of discomfort sounded pleasured instead of pained. He would close his eyes, after, breathing through the pain, vowing that he’d never have sex in a painful position again for the rest of his life, cautiously listening to make sure whatever guy he’d taken to bed wasn’t trying to pull any shit. Rinse and repeat a few weeks later.

Stede, though. Talk about a hell of a difference.

He’d figured out that Ed didn’t like some things, Ed thought. He never held down Ed’s bad leg, never forced the knee to bend. Rubbed the joint so tenderly after sex. And that maybe should’ve made it easier to admit to his problem, but Stede made Ed feel so good, and he wanted to return the favor, and…

“Ed, honey, you’re somewhere else tonight.”

Ed sniffed, shifted. They’d been breaking in their new bed (still called it that, even though they’d been breaking it in for a couple months now), and he was half in Stede’s lap, legs flung across Stede’s thighs. He should’ve felt perfect.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and when Stede’s light, appraising touches traveled down his leg, rubbing lightly at his knee, he hissed, the pain making him flinch involuntarily.

Stede kissed his fingertips, then touched them feather-light to Ed’s knee. “Does it hurt?”

“Just stiff,” Ed said dismissively.

Stede just hummed. Ed knew he wouldn’t force the issue.

“I, uh…” Ed cleared his throat. “What would you say if I said I didn’t think I should ride you anymore?”

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the anger on Stede’s face -

“I’d say that was fine,” Stede said easily. “Why? Does it make your knee hurt when we do that?”

“Maybe a little,” Ed admitted softly.

“Okay,” Stede said, and he positioned his hands around Ed’s knee, rubbing his thumbs gently along the sore, tender joint, working out the stiffness of exertion. Ed hissed, his face scrunching up at the sensation, and Stede just cooed soft apologies.

That was - that was it, though, wasn’t it? Ed knew he was safe to let Stede see him in pain. Stede hadn’t ever gotten angry or frustrated with him for being in pain or needing help with his knee before, why would this be any different?

“Um,” Ed started haltingly, “I actually think maybe we might need to be a little more careful. During intercourse. With my knee. If that sounds alright to you. Maybe.”

When he opened his eyes, Stede was getting that pinched line between his eyebrows.

“Ed?” Stede pulled Ed a bit more securely into his arms, and Ed sighed in satisfaction at the feeling of Stede’s arms around his waist. “Have you been hurting? While we have sex? Have I been hurting you?”

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just…” Stede let his breath out in a long sigh. “I don’t want to ever do anything that hurts you. Not ever. Especially not when we’re trying to do something that’ll make us both feel good. How can I help keep you comfortable?”

“Well…” Ed grimaced. “Bending my knee is what hurts the most.”

“Alright,” Stede said thoughtfully, and Ed could see the wheels turning in his head. Taking out positions that required Ed to bend his knee took so much off the table. Riding, giving blowjobs, even fucking missionary, and Ed was a bit terrified he’d just ruined their sex life.

Clearly, he’d underestimated Stede Bonnet’s creativity.

Ed should’ve known he was in for a treat when he caught Stede woodworking in the backyard and was given a full presentation about all the features of the “blowjob stool” he was building, a seat designed to cushion and support Ed’s knee while putting him at perfect dick-sucking height.

Stede was endlessly thoughtful when adapting positions they already liked, too. Ed liked being taken from behind; they discovered that a pillow under his hips kept him comfortable and allowed him to keep his legs straight. When Ed missed looking into Stede’s eyes during sex, they experimented with variously supporting his knee with pillows or propping his ankle on Stede’s shoulder. Spooning, bent over a desk, the good ol’ 69… not all of Stede’s ideas or little inventions worked, but the ideas he had for supports to keep Ed comfortable meant it was the best sex Ed had ever had, full stop. It was really damn nice to be able to enjoy himself without worrying about being in pain.

The best parts, though, weren’t just the sex itself.

They’d found that Ed’s knee was least painful when his muscles were relaxed and when he was feeling good, so they often had a warm bath first. It was fun foreplay, and relaxing together while Stede rubbed tiger balm into the joint in the afterglow was the perfect way to snuggle and talk about what they’d enjoyed.

“I’m glad I told you,” Ed whispered one night, tracing their initials over Stede’s heart as they cuddled, Ed’s bad leg slung over Stede’s hip to keep it propped up.

“Me, too,” Stede said, kissing Ed’s cheek.

Ed was learning, still, that he’d never have to just put up with pain again. And it was soft, soft, as smooth and sweet as honey.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics #always accepting prompts for 1k fics! Don't be shy!

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minniiaa · 3 days

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Do you have HC how Law and Luffy behaves when they have have disagreement with each other aka the couple fight? And how they resolve it?

I think it's must be challenging for these two knowing how both are hard to open to people about their problems and being honest to each other

AND I THINK- it'll be funny if they like like both being out of character during the fight, just imagine Trafalgar who's always composed and collected kind of person is suddenly being easily irritated, sulky, and moody. This left the Hearts unsure of what to do, because their confident captain act like troubled teenage girl out of the blue

And Luffy... Being quiet for once, always seems to lost in thoughts, even say no to usopp and chopper usual shenanigans. He still eat a lot tho, i mean it's Luffy. But it's less chaotic for once n the Strawhats dining table. The crew don't know whether they should thank god it's calm here for once or worry for their captain

maybe Luffy will ask for advice to someone wise enough for this (looking at Robin here, or maybe shell approach the captain first noticing the change in behavior?)

Please share your thoughts! 🙇

Hmm... I didn't really have any HC about them fighting, I kind of figured they would just yell at each other until one of them caved or they just had really obnoxious i-hate-you-but-i-love-you sex. THAT BEING SAID, I like that one and so I will take it and run with it.

Law and Luffy had a fight. Sure, it wasn't their first, Law was always berating Luffy for not following his plans and Luffy had gotten frustrated with the way Law doesn't seem to care enough about those around him but this one was different. It was stupid, Luffy couldn't even remember what the fight was about in the first place but he knew that he was the one in the wrong. He said a lot of cruel things to Law and the moment they came out of his mouth, Luffy regretted them. He didn't think Law was a heartless jerk and he didn't hate him. No, he loved Law and he was just frustrated and it led him to say stupid things he didn't even mean.

But he didn't get the chance to take back his words and makeup with Law because as soon as Law comprehended what he said, he told him that he was an idiot, their alliance and relationship were over, and he never wanted to see him again before shambling back to his ship and leaving with his crew. Luffy was left there in shock. He never thought Law would actually break up with him and run away without hashing out their feelings.

See, Luffy wasn't the best at conflict resolution, he grew up with Sabo, Ace, Gramps, and Dadan and they always solved their problems by fighting both verbally and physically until they finally made up. His crewmates were the same and no argument ever went unresolved for more than a few hours. Except for the times when his crewmates almost left him, but those were different fights and they never really wanted to leave in the first place. No, he was scared that Law meant it and he really didn't ever want to see him again.

Luffy was left with this heaviness in his heart unlike anything he had felt before and he had no idea how to make things right with Law. Should he bring him food? No, Law doesn't really care about food that much and he said he didn't want to see him again. Should he say sorry and that he won't do it again? Yeah he was sorry so he needed to say it, but he can't promise he won't do it again, that would be lying. How would he even find Law to apologize? There was no telling where he went off to and the sea was a big place, especially to find a submarine that they couldn't even see if it was below the surface.

Thankfully, Robin was Luffy's knight in shining armor. She and Nami decided that Luffy is sensitive right now and Nami's tough love might not work this time. They saw the cogs turning in his head and knew that things like love and relationships aren't really Luffy's specialty. It didn't help that Law isn't the easiest person to figure out although they know he loves Luffy deeply and they were pretty sure he didn't mean anything he said, he was just angry and responding to Luffy's cruel words.

They were already planning on helping Luffy, but it was pretty amusing to watch every single man on the crew pull them both aside and beg them to help Luffy because they were freaked out by their depressed captain who had been uncharacteristically sulking and quiet with a frown etched on his face since his argument with Law.

Sanji cooked Luffy all his favorite foods and although he ate everything, he took his time instead of tossing it into his face and didn't compliment him on how good it was or smile. Chopper and Usopp tried to play games and go fishing but Luffy didn't want to, saying he wasn't in the mood right now. Brook sang him a love song to cheer him up but it only made him sadder. Franky made some special modifications to one of his robots he knew Luffy would think was awesome but he just nodded and seemed far away when he showed him. And Zoro? Well, he just took a nap with Luffy like he always does because he can deal with an angry Luffy, but a sad Luffy who was upset over fighting with his boyfriend? Well, that was more Nami or the stupid cook's specialty.

As for Law, his crew is terrified and he knows it. He's locked himself in his room for most of the time, refusing to let anyone in. Shachi and Penguin of course tried to listen through the door and they were shocked to hear that Law was just sobbing in there like a baby and it made them even more worried.

When Law does emerge, he's off his rocker, screaming at everyone for the tiniest things; a crumb on the floor, talking too loud, his rice being too dry, anything sets him off on a rage-filled tangent. Even Bepo can't calm him down though he's tried with many hugs and offers to nap with him. Not only that, Law is clearly exhausted. His eyes are bloodshot and the bags are worse than usual and it's obvious he hasn't slept in days. He won't talk to them and they have no idea what to do to help their poor lovesick Captain.

See, Law is great at problem-solving. It's his thing. But Luffy has always been a problem he cannot solve. Sure, he was in the one in the wrong here and he said nasty things but Law knows he went too far. Yes, Luffy was an idiot but he didn't want to end their alliance or their relationship, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do. Although he drove him crazy sometimes, Luffy made him happier than he'd ever been before. But he was the one who ran away and he can't just go grovel at Luffy's feet like some pathetic loser, even if he wanted to. His pride is too strong for that and he's afraid that Luffy's might be too.

Law's biggest fear is that they will never resolve this and that terrifies him because he's so in love with Luffy. Yes, he's awful at expressing it and doesn't even know if Luffy even knows how important he is to him but he truly loves him more than anyone in the world.

What if they never make up? What if Luffy hates him for breaking up with him like that and doesn't want to be with him anymore? He can't comprehend a reality where Luffy isn't in his life, he'd rather just be dead. But he can't be the one to reach out. He can't go beg for love on his knees. He needs Luffy to come back and tell him that he's sorry so he knows for sure that Luffy 's feelings are just as deep as his are. Until then, he's just stuck on this damn submarine losing his mind and taking it out on his crew which he knows is wrong but he can't help himself. Now instead of having one person to apologize to, he has 20.

After a talk with Robin, Luffy decides he is going to apologize because he can't stand the idea of Law being mad at him and hating him forever. He loves Law a lot and maybe if he tells him that and is extra nice, Law will forgive him.

Nami steps in, calling Law on the den den mushi about to rip him a new one and demand he meets up with them now. Thankfully for Law, a concerned Bepo answered instead of the captain. Nami simmers down. explaining the situation and that Luffy wants to meet up with Law so they can make up. Bepo is relieved, he can't stand Law being sad anymore and the crew is going crazy stuck undersea with their miserable volatile captain. They arrange a meeting point and Bepo turns the ship around. Law is so distraught that he doesn't even notice the course change.

That is until they surface. He flies out of his room to figure out what is going on because he didn't authorize a surface and they weren't supposed to reach the next island for a few more days.

Before he can reach the control room, seething and about to rip his crew a new one, he's met with Luffy standing in the hallway of the Polar Tang. Wait what? How'd he get here? Why? Was he just sleep-deprived and seeing things? Law is in shock, his pinched expression softening the moment he sees Luffy's big round eyes filled with so much concern and love.

He's here. He came back.

Before Law can plan his next move, Luffy launches himself into his arms, knocking him to the floor. Law can't even be angry at how much it hurts because Luffy is kissing him more desperately than he ever has before. He can feel his sorrow, his apology, and his passion. From the way Luffy's hands thread in his hair and his tongue begs for entrance into his mouth, Law can tell that he has been just as distraught as him.

He kisses Luffy back just as desperately, hungry for his affection and pulls him closer, feeling the tension that has been wrecking his body these past days dissipate. He doesn't even care what they fought about, none of that matters anyway. He had forgiven him the moment he stormed off the Sunny that day. Luffy breaks their kiss, looking down at Law with big round eyes brimming with tears and he can't help but think how cute he looks even though he's about to cry.

"Toraooo I'm so sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I was just being stupid. I love you so much and I never want to fight with you ever again. Please please forgive me, I'll do anything just don't hate me and break up with me," Luffy pleads, tears streaming down his cheeks and dropping down onto Law's face.

He'd never seen Luffy cry before though he recalled his brother Sabo mentioning in their brief interaction in Dressrosa that Luffy was quite the crybaby when they were kids. It warmed his heart knowing that Luffy cares so deeply about him that he would actually shed tears for him, but also breaks it knowing that his stupidity made him cry. Law heaves a sigh sitting up and pulling Luffy up with him so he was sitting on his lap with his legs wrapped snugly around his waist. He wipes the tears from his eyes with his thumb and places a hand on his cheek. Luffy is quiet for once, waiting for Law's response to his plea.

"Of course I forgive you. I forgave you the moment I left. I'm sorry too, it wasn't right of me to say those things I didn't mean and run away. I should have stayed and worked it out with you like an adult. From now on if we disagree, we'll talk about it until we figure it out, okay?" Law spoke calmly, watching as Luffy's face filled with relief.

He wiped his tears, the smile that Law cherished so dearly blooming on his face. Law realized that he forgot one very important thing in his response. "Oh, and I love you too, you idiot," he grumbled with an eyeroll though he knew Luffy would notice the soft smile that grazed his lips as he said the words he probably didn't express enough.

Luffy's face lit up even more as he pulled him in for a bone-crushing hug, burying his face in Law's neck, Law quietly rubbing his back and savoring the closeness even though he felt like he was going to stop breathing any second.

"So does this mean we're not broken up anymore?" Luffy asks peeking up at Law after a few moments of comfortable silence between them.

"No, we're not broken up. We never were, I was saying stupid shit," Law tsked at his own insolence.

"Sooo should we go tell our crews that we made up? My friends have been really worried and the polar bear seemed like he was too when he talked to Nami," Luffy asked and although he was right,

"We should, but not yet. I think we still have some more making up to do in my room. I think they'll get the hint if we don't come back for awhile," Law leaned in close, his lips grazing Luffy's ear as his hand slid down to gently caress the small of Luffy's back. He felt Luffy's body shiver under him, giving him the exact response he wanted. He had Luffy here, putty in his hands and he was absolutely going to take advantage of it.

"Ohhh, are you talking about the makeup sex thing Nami mentioned when I was leaving?" Luffy perked up, his cheeks stained with an incredibly endearing blush. He silently thanked Nami for putting that idea in his head.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm talking about. Now let's go before I decide I can't wait until we get to my room," Law said bluntly, already feeling his arousal building as Luffy rocked himself against his lap ever so slightly, showing him that he was very much interested in exploring this unexplored territory in their relationship.

"Okay, take me to your room so I can show you just how sorry I am, Torao," Law didn't have to be told twice, standing up off the floor with Luffy still wrapped around him like a koala on a tree.

"I look forward to it," he murmured with a devilish grin as he made his way towards his quarters, casting his room so it would be clear to anyone who came near that he was busy and also preventing them from hearing the terribly wonderful things he and Luffy were about to do with each other after their first, and hopefully last real fight.

#hello its me getting carried away with my asks again #yes i am still doing these they just take a long time because i have no self control #there are a few in my inbox that i will try and get to soon!#minni asks #minni headcanons #one piece #law #trafalgar law #luffy #lawlu #monkey d luffy #lulaw #lawlu headcanon #one piece lawlu #lawluffy

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thebestpumkin · 19 hours

Text

- title - happy birthday, chuuya!

- pairing - chuuya nakahara x reader

- character(s) mentioned - ogai mori

- word count - 566

- summary - celebrating your totally whipped boyfriend's birthday with him.

- tw - i'm pushing my soft chuuya agenda sorry, established relationship, alcohol mention, chuuya gets drunk and passes out, lmk if there are any to add!

- a/n at the bottom!

Chuuya doesn't think he's ever felt quite so normal.

Human, even.

It's a wonder that all it took for him to feel this way is walking hand-in-hand with you, on your way home.

He thinks he likes that word. Home. It rolls off your tongue so easily as you pay the bill - despite his protests - "Let's go home, yeah?" And he's gotten used to it. He thinks he already found his home, in you - as corny as it sounds.

Nevertheless, he's taking you back to his place to celebrate, pressed to your side and babbling on meaninglessly about something or other concerning some new show he saw. And yet you're looking at him with so much love and adoration in your eyes, as if he hung every star up in the sky, as if what he's saying is something worth listening to.

He lets you into his lavish penthouse and watches as you sit down. You sit so comfortably on his couch, as if it was your own, as if this whole place was yours, too. In a way, it is, he thinks. You own his heart, why not everything else he has to his name? He brings out a bottle of wine and two glasses while you turn on the TV.

He's not sure when or how, but he ended up asleep in your arms while you were entirely focused on whatever show you'd put on his flatscreen. He'd likely gotten drunk, he realizes, looking out at the dark sky through his floor-to-ceiling windows. You didn't mind, having had to take care of him when he was off his ass more times than you could count on your fingers. He loved you for that.

He tries to stay up after that, boiling some gas station ramen he had stashed away. He spends the rest of the night slurping noodles with you while you try to catch him up on everything he missed while taking a nap - who knew a show could spring so much information on its audience within a couple episodes?

He keeps stealing glances at you and your attractive face. It's a wonder you've stayed with him, he thinks. A wonder that you love him just as much as he loves you. His breath hitches. You're beautiful. He knows that, already. But, for some reason, seeing your face lit up with the light of the screen and your eyes completely focused on the show he's given up on trying to understand...he leans forward and captures your lips in his. He doesn't know what else to do when you look like that. He loves you, so, so much.

And he spends his birthday that way - and he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't care what he does for his next birthday, as long as you're by his side. And, really, that applies to every single day. He couldn't care less if he had mountains of paperwork that Mori assigns to him, as long as you're there to encourage him. He wouldn't mind it if he had to go into a fight, as long as he could come home to you so you could kiss his hurting away. Everything would be okay as long as you were there at his side. He'll spend all his birthdays with you, hoping you'll love him even when he's gray and old, just because...it's you.

pumkin speaks: yeah, okay, i totally didn't write something for inosuke's birthday a few days ago, sue me. BUT i think i deserve a pat on the back for this one. this is that chuuya piece that i said i had the pretty sounding beginning for but no idea where to go from there, iykyk. i finished tokyo revengers btw! oh, and i'm watching wind breaker, too - i'm all caught up w it. and i'm on ep 7 of banana fish due to peer pressure from friends...ps wtf is that show its so...wow. anyway! thats all ive got, i think. sorry for continuing to push the soft chuuya agenda. i just cant imagine him being any other way if he were in love 😕😕 okay that's all. bye, happy scrolling!

likes, reblogs, requests, and feedback are vv appreciated! divider credits go to r0se-designs. thanks for reading, have a nice day!

#pumkin writes #x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader

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serasfanfiction · 2 days

Text

CW: Blood. Less a content warning and more a note: Lucifer is one very depressed cookie and it shows.

oOo

Lucifer closed the portal behind them after making certain Alastor was clear. It had been a bit melodramatic, leaving by portal, he knew. He simply couldn't imagine attempting to leave any other way and risk screwing up the impression he'd just made.

He could be serious. He could do the whole scary bit. He just didn't like to do it for long.

He released Alastor's hand, tucking both his demons and angelic features alike away until he was his normal, unassuming self. Away from the studio and everyone's prying eyes, with the broadcast finally done and over, he felt like he could relax and breathe again.

Speaking of the redhead, Lucifer figured there was some unfinished business to take care of between them. Not to mention, he really did want to check in with him after that little power stunt. He was just thinking of doing so, when he felt a presence at his back.

Reflexes already on high alert from the stress of the studio, Lucifer spun around. He had enough time to recognize a red and white pinstriped coat, before he was being crowded backwards, red tipped claws going for his throat. It was only because he registered it was only Alastor-

('Only Alastor,' a slightly hysterical part of his brain jitters. When did he become so used to Alastor at his back that he stopped seeing as a threat?)

-that he didn't protest beyond an annoyed and startled, "Alastor, what are you doing??"

Alastor didn't answer, intent on his task, which seemed to be ridding his king of his bowtie. He snarled as the back of the Lucifer's knees hit the bed, sending him careening backwards. The redhead followed him down, hands abandoning their task to catch himself before he landed on top of the blonde.

For a moment, they froze, both panting. Lucifer stared up at Alastor from where he lay on his back, legs dangling over the side of the bed. Alastor stared down at him, black drool dripping down his chin, that quick witted mind near lost to his bloodlust.

Lucifer swallowed, the gulp loud in the silence of the room. Red, glowing eyes followed the movement, teeth elongating ever so slightly. His form had grown as his antlers extended as his Wendigo side threatened to take full control.

"Alastor, come back." Lucifer didn't dare move, not wanting to set him off. "You'll have your feast, but you need to come back first."

Alastor's responding growl was more canine than his form should allow. His claws dug into the bedsheets, the poor silk shredding under their sharp tips. Lucifer watched as he fought a battle with his hunger. The glow dimmed and brightened as his human mind struggled for control.

Lucifer could see the moment the balance tipped. Form mostly returned to normal, Alastor lowered himself until he could bury his face in the fallen angel's hair. "Transform." His voice sounded like he'd swallowed gravel, filter struggling to interpret the sound.

Slowly, Lucifer raised a hand, not touching, but held out in the universal sign for 'stop.' "Wait."

Alastor didn't take the response well. Sharp fangs grazed Lucifer's chin as the Radio Demon hissed, "You can't deny me."

Actually, Lucifer could. He still had quite a bit of his 12 hours left. He could leave right then and there and there was little Alastor could do to stop him. Perhaps he should have left right then, but there was no telling if delaying would allow the radio host time to calm down or if he'd lose more control as his hunger rose up again to swallow him.

"I'm not trying to." Unable to tell if the redhead could even see it from where he'd buried his face in the blonde's neck, Lucifer pointed up towards the head of the bed. "I just thought it would be more comfortable if I was propped up and you didn't have your face buried in the sheets."

Alastor's ears flattened. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. At least he seemed more stable now that he was convinced he wasn't being denied his feast.

With aching slowness, inch by inch, Alastor pulled away. When Lucifer could see his face again, only the charming facade of the Hazbin Hotel's hotelier peered back at him. Lucifer hadn't realized how tense he himself was until he was met with the familiar sight. He still hesitated to move, unsure of sinner's control.

Seeing his hesitation, Alastor's smiled down at him with that lazy grin of his. "Ah, that must have been unsightly. Please, let's relocate ourselves. It's always better to dine in comfort."

Lucifer's eye twitched. 'Dine in comfort.' One of them would be dinning in comfort, he supposed.

Lucifer slithered out from beneath the cage of Alastor's limbs. Usually, when someone joined him in his bed, he might have made a show of crossing it. Sometimes, it was a tease meant to excite. Sometimes, it was just being silly or just having fun. This was hardly the first time someone who wasn't a lover had joined him. Lilith had been his only sexual partner, his temptation of Eve aside, but he had shared a bed with friends and family throughout his life. Angels, fallen or not, were social creatures. It hadn't been uncommon for Lucifer and his brothers and sisters to indulge in cuddle fests that resulted in a giggling pile of limbs and wings. After their fall, Lucifer and some of the other deadly sins had retained some degree of need for physical contact, although they all had wildly different ways of meeting that need.

Since there was no one interested in any sort of play here, Lucifer merely scooted back towards the pillows, Alastor following his progress with a hunter's keen eye. He couldn't decide how he felt about the fact that the first person to join in his bed post divorcing his one and only marital partner was someone like the Radio Demon. This would even be the first time the blonde had invited a sinner into his bed. He nearly laughed at himself that, of course, it would be under the circumstance that said sinner was only here to feast upon his blood. He stopped when his back hit a pillow, already reaching to finish divesting himself of his bow tie. It had survived the redhead's attempt to rip it apart by virtue of being something Lucifer's magic had created. It went over the side of the bed with careless abandon, his vest following shortly after.

As he reached his shirt, he found himself pausing several buttons down. He had already bared all to this sinner once before. His pride certainly didn't leave him with anything to worry about - he knew how attractive he was. For some reason, though, the mere thought of getting any more undressed than an unbuttoned top was suddenly too much. Perhaps it was because of the encounter with Valentino, the sinner's slimy touch still burned into his skin. Perhaps it was because of how overwhelming everyone's attention at the studio had been. Whatever it was, he was hit with a feeling of being too overexposed to bare all, even if it was only from the waist up.

Alastor's eyebrow rose when he failed to remove his shirt, opting to only leave it unbuttoned. Lucifer was willing to deal with cleaning up the inevitable mess that was to come, as long as he could retain some of his modesty. The redhead was immediately distracted by the appearance of those blonde ears that heralded the beginning of Lucifer's transformation. An equally blonde, fluffy tail was hidden behind him, wedged under the bottom of the pillow behind him. Lucifer was likely going to have to rescue it shortly, but for the moment, he let it be.

He pulled the collar of his shirt until it fell off his shoulder. His throat bared and his grin sly, he croaked a finger in a 'come hither.' "Come and take your reward, sinner."

The size of the bed and his position near the center of the headboard forced Alastor to come to him on hands and knees. Despite this, there was no worship in his gaze nor a subservient bone in this sinner's body. Alastor approached him with the grace of a dancer tempered with the deadly intent of a predator. As he drew near, the blond spread his legs, inviting the redhead closer. Unlike the last time they were both in this bed in a similar position, Alastor showed none of that disgust, although he did stop to situate himself so that there was no physical contact anywhere below the waist.

Reserves about contact below the waist did not seem to apply to above it. The instant he was near enough to do so, Alastor's nose was back in his hair, expertly avoiding his antlers. Lucifer could change his shape to match any of Earth's creatures, both real and imaginary, but the change was only cosmetic. He took on none of their behaviors. Was influenced by none of their instincts. How messy it must be to have such foreign habits thrust upon someone.

Lucifer was so distracted by his contemplation of the inner workings of this sinner he'd found himself so entangled with, he'd stopped paying attention to to what the redhead was actually doing. This was his only explanation for why he was so caught off guard when something sharp pressed against his throat, demanding in its threat, but not so much so it broke the surface of his skin.

Something that wasn't Alastor's teeth, as evidenced by the sinner pulling back and the sensation remaining.

The gleam in Alastor's eyes, pupils aglow made him more wary than any potential threat of the weapon. He glanced down, the hilt of the blade - a dagger - just visible from that angle. His eyes darkened as he recognized it.

It was that angelic steel blade the wolf demon had attacked him with. The same one he'd utterly forgotten right up until just then.

Clearly someone had found it and squirreled it away for potential future use. Had he already been planning some use for it, even as they negotiated their first contract? Lucifer glared up at Alastor, finding the sinner's face completely shrouded in darkness, save the glow of his red eyes and his yellow teeth, bared in a riotous grin.

It was utterly unhinged.

Someone else's memory rose up, super imposing itself over reality. For a moment, it wasn't Alastor, the Radio Demon leaning over him. Instead, a man in his thirties, brunette and dark skinned, crouched over him, smile stretched as wide as humanly possible across his face, brown eyes illuminated with the reflection of a street lamp.

It had been the last sight many of Alastor's victims had seen before he silenced them forever.

Alastor cocked his head to the side, the image dissipating like the morning fog. He raised the hand not holding a dagger to his king's throat up to cup Lucifer's cheek. His thumb pressed down into the fragile skin under the blonde's eye, rubbing across the length of it, as his expression smoothed into that fond one he'd taken to wearing most of the last hour or two.

Lucifer wondered if Alastor was aware that he had Seen him - the same way he'd Seen the wolf who'd attacked the hotel, had Seen Valentino. Had Seen him; knew all of his victim's names and their last moments. Knew of the crooked moral code Alastor had lived by, one that might have been seen as righteous, had the man not enjoyed the kill a little too much.

Perhaps that fondness was because the Devil himself had gazed upon this sinner and all of his sins and had still chosen to lay down and bare his neck to him like a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.

Alastor shifted his leg to better brace himself. He studied the position of the dagger with the critical eye of a seasoned killer. The dagger rose up, first a centimeter, then another half centimeter. He held it in place, satisfied with its position and leaving no question in how this was going to go. There was nothing particularly kind in his face as he crooned sweetly, "I wouldn't recommend moving now, sire." He tightened his grip on the side of Lucifer's head. "I'd hate to cause unintentional damage."

And with that, Alastor slit Lucifer's throat.

The resulting wound was a testament to the Radio Demon's skill, practiced in life and honed in death. It was as damaging as it needed to be: deep enough to slice right through the carotid artery, causing hot, golden blood to spill forth in a rush. Alastor darted forward, latching his mouth over the open wound and sucked.

It hurt. Lucifer hadn't thought the dagger would hurt worse than when Alastor had used his teeth, but it did. Intellectually, he appreciated the cut would last longer with the dagger than with Alastor's teeth. Intellectually be damned, though, because physically it burned like the dickens with every pull at the wound.

Alastor hadn't restricted his ability to fight back. On reflex, he darted a hand up, going for those sensitive ears. Alastor, feeling the muscle move beneath his mouth, dropped the dagger in favor of catching his wrist effortlessly. He slammed it down against the sheets, leaning his weight on it to pin it down.

He wasn't fast enough to capture Lucifer's other wrist, the fallen angel having gone lower to reach for the sinner's ribs. Lucifer's claws sharpened, sharper blades than even angel steel, cutting through cloth and flesh as easy as a hot knife through butter. He only stopped when the skin between two of his fingers hit bone. Immediately, the wet feeling of blood began to seep into the fabric and then onto his hand.

The redhead showed his displeasure by digging his teeth into the flesh around the cut, spilling even more blood in the process.

Lucifer writhed, unable to escape as long as Alastor continued to swallow down his blood. He hissed, managing to growl out, "Alastor, that... hurts."

Static screeched through the air. Alastor didn't remove his teeth, but he didn't drive them in deeper. Uncaring that he was causing more damage, he reached down and around, before yanking the blonde's claws from his side. Lucifer felt, more than saw, the blood spill from the wound and hitting his side, where the fluids immediately began to soak into both his shirt and the sheets, adding to the mess they were making of each other and his bed.

Lucifer panted, casting around for something to distract himself from the pain in his neck and the disturbing sound of Alastor gulping down his blood, abnormally loud in the otherwise silence of the room. There was little to focus on, save the feel of the silk sheets, his painfully trapped tail, and the feel of blood (his own and Alastor's) in varying stages of cooling and coagulation in the sheets around him.

The steady feel of dripping against his side managed to penetrate the haze of pain. He couldn't see it properly, but judging from the growing blood stain on his shirt, he concluded he'd done some damage himself. He had half a mind to leave it, a warning not to use the dagger in the future. His blood was more than adequate to heal the damage in no time.

Healing a wound required a great deal of concentration and he latched onto the thought as a welcome distraction. Told himself that was the only reason he was doing it. It certainly wasn't an apology, as he was of the opinion that Alastor had more than deserved it. Tearing his gaze away from the ears he wanted nothing more than to dig his claws into, his twisted his wrist in an attempt to free it. When Alastor refused him his freedom, Lucifer warned, "Let go." A little gentler, he assured, "I'm not going to hurt you again."

More static spilled out of the redhead. Lucifer thought he'd have to go back on his word and potentially hurt him to free himself, had half a mind to just let the stubborn asshole suffer, but eventually Alastor relinquished his hold. He full-bodied flinched as Lucifer pressed his hand over the wound, his growl a warning.

Lucifer ignored it, closing his eyes to focus on the damaged cells. He'd nicked the lowest two bones of Alastor's rib cage when he'd driven his claws in, but hadn't chipped them. He decided to focus on them last, instead coaxing the copious amounts of spilled blood lingering around the wound to coagulate and help seal up any severed blood vessels and torn flesh. Next, he began the process of speeding up the formation of collagen and fresh tissue until the wound looked like it was several weeks old, rather than a few minutes. Repair of the bone came next, smoothing away any marks he'd left behind until all signs of the wound were gone.

In response, Alastor withdrew his teeth, allowing the skin to finally begin to heal itself. Lucifer doubted he'd receive an apology any more than he felt like giving one himself.

As a last touch, Lucifer wiped away the tares to the pin stripped coat under his fingers with a simple swipe of his thumb. Finished with the task, he simply ran his thumb along the material, focusing on the texture. It was good quality, rougher than it was than anything he, himself, owned. If he remembered, he might ask Alastor about his tailor.

The sinner arched his back, leaning away from his hand. A signal he was at his limit on any unwanted physical touch. It was fine, in Lucifer's book, as his arm was beginning to feel heavy.

All of his limbs were beginning to feel heavy. His body sending him their own signal that it was at its own limit.

There was nothing Alastor could do to kill him. This was beyond the sinner's power. He could drain every drop of blood from this corrupt shell, tear it limp from limb, and consume as much flesh as he could stomach. Lucifer would live.

Immortal and durable as this body was, it had its limits. Rare as it was, unfelt in thousands of years, if Lucifer pushed too hard, withstood too much damage, out of self preservation, his body would simply shut down to conserve energy and focus on repairing the damage. It had been quite a while since he had done anything to feel this, but the feeling was still too tied to traumatic memories to ever forget.

He let his head lean back to rest against the headboard. Alastor's frantic feasting had diminished from that of a man starved to one who was savoring every last mouth full of a meal before admitting he was too stuffed to continue. The wound throbbed in time with his slowing heart, but Lucifer was already growing used to it.

Lucifer was unsure if he was going to have the strength to pretend he was unaffected enough to spar with a recovered Radio Demon. He could already feel the urge to give into his body's demands, to fall asleep right there and then and sleep until he was recovered enough to be conscious again. Normally, he wouldn't care about the wolf he had willingly invited into his room and into his bed, he had already proven which of the two of them was more powerful.

But this wouldn't be a normal sleep. Alastor might not have registered as foe anymore, but he was still capable of doing anything. There was no telling where or in what condition Lucifer would wake up in.

A weight dropped down on him, jolting him back into alertness. He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes until they snapped open. He came aware to find himself pinned rather effectively to the bed. He turned his head to the side, almost getting a face full of black tipped hair in the process. He blamed his addled brain for how long it took him to realize what had happened. In his defense, it wasn't something he ever thought would happen.

Alastor was laying on top of him. With Lucifer's reclined position and the bend in the sinner's back, he didn't think it was very comfortable.

What?

The redhead quite expertly causing his brain to malfunction tensed. The blond thought it might be because of all the physical contact they were currently sharing. Alastor put that thought on the back burner when he propped himself up, up until they were nearly nose to nose, and gave him a look.

Lucifer blinked up at him, baffled. Alastor was studying him like he was suddenly the most curious creature he had ever encountered and Lucifer had no clue what he'd down to warrant it.

Taking advantage of his lack of energy and utter bafflement, Alastor proceeded to take it upon himself to manhandle the blonde until they were both at a more reclined angle. Seemingly happy with their new position, the sinner resumed his previous spot.

Right on top of Lucifer.

Lucifer wanted to protest, a little voice in his mind quite vocal over the sinner's audacity. Protesting would have required he muster up enough energy to try and make sense of how the hell they had somehow gone from Alastor not wanting to touch him to... well. This.

Whatever this was.

He blinked at the ceiling, something he had done numerous times since moving in. It held no more answers to his questions than it ever did. Dredging up enough magic from the bottom of the wellspring that was the source of his power, he cleaned up the blood. Butterfly stitches, covered by a bandage appeared around his neck. By the time it needed to be changed it, he wouldn't need it anymore.

Pressed up against him chest to sternum, Lucifer couldn't help but notice that Alastor was all long limbs and lithe muscle. The sinner's weight was usually negligible, the fallen angel more than capable of tossing him around. Now, it felt like it could actually hold him here in this place that should be safe (but wasn't). The heat of his body seeped into Lucifer's where they were pressed together, coaxing his muscles to give up the last of their tension.

It eased something in his core, a longing for physical contact with another person he'd desperately wished for since Lilith last shared their bed. It was… almost nice. Almost nice enough he could forget all of the steps that had lead them to this moment.

Alastor's breathing had deepened. He wasn't asleep, but he seemed close. Perhaps expending as much energy as he had, like working a new muscle for the first time, followed by a hearty meal was threatening to send the redhead into his own coma.

It didn't explain what was going on here.

"What are you doing?"

The end of the question was muffled by the hand Alastor had placed over Lucifer's mouth. Lucifer didn't have the energy to glare at it.

"Sleep, sire." Alastor's voice had deepened, his filter all but gone. His hand fell away to lay beside the blonde's cheek on the pillow. He turned his head to bury his nose in Lucifer's hair. "Everything else can wait until later."

Lucifer still didn't know if this place was any safer now than it had been at the start of his worries, but he found that he was willing to find out. Closing his eyes, he let slumber take him.

The pinging of his phone roused him. Lucifer shifted, the sluggishness of his limbs coming from a deep slumber rather than an intrinsic need to recover. He was warm, warmer than he had been when he'd fallen asleep.

He knew even before he opened his eyes that Alastor was gone.

He noted the warmth he'd felt came from having been tucked under the covers. He didn't remember the redhead getting up. Didn't remember being moved and placed under the covers. He almost snorted at the fact that although Alastor had decided to pull the covers over him, he'd tucked him in, clothes and boots and all. He'd know that ceiling anywhere, so he was still in his room. A glance at his clock told him that he had been passed out for six hours.

Not the longest time he'd taken to recover. Not the shortest, but not the longest. He must have been more stressed than he gave himself credit.

He pushed himself up on to his elbows, getting a better look around the room. There was no one else in the room. No sounds came from his personal bathroom, the door open and the light off.

Grief tightened the muscles in his chest, the feeling almost immediately washed away by a tidal wave of self loathing and anger. There had been no reason to believe there would be anyone there when he woke up. He had lost the right to the company of his brothers and sisters when he rebelled against Heaven. Lost his fellow sins when he turned his back on his kingdom and withdrew from everyone except his wife and daughter. Lilith had left decades before she finally walked out the door with Charlie, likely finally reaching her limit with him.

And Alastor? All Alastor wanted from him was access to his blood and some unknown favor at some point in the future. Who know what that guy was thinking, let alone why he had deemed Lucifer a decent pillow to sleep on. For all Lucifer knew, he had imagined the whole thing and had passed out prior to Alastor dropping on him.

He fell back onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. The only person that still wanted anything to do with him for him was Charlie. It sucked, but he had done it to himself. He simply had to live with it.

He let himself wallow in his self pity for several more minutes, before the pinging of his phone told him he really needed to get up and deal with whoever was trying to get his attention. He slide one hand down to touch the side of his neck, the bandage proof that he hadn't imagined the entire afternoon. He let it ground him and remind him of his obligations.

He went first to his bathroom. Turning on the light forced him to reckon with the mess that was his appearance. Yellow strands of hair was all in a wild disarray and the bruising under his eyes more pronounced than usual. Splashing water in his face helped with some of the puffiness, while finger combing his hair brought the mess somewhat under control. He would mostly have to contend with appearing tired, something he thought fair since it was coming up on evening.

He turned his inspection to Alastor's parting gift. Pulling away the bandages, he silently cursed the redhead as he noted it would be too high to hide with his normal attire. His choices were either wear something with a higher neckline or advertise to the entirety of the hotel what he had allowed Alastor to talk him into.

A snap of his fingers conjured a cashmere roll neck in the same shade of pink as his favorite vest. It wasn't his preferred level of dress and he had to placate himself with the reminder that it would only be for a few days. He nodded his head, his reflection mirroring the action back at him. It would have to do.

Lucifer navigated his way back to his bedside dresser, stepping over a few errant ducks that had wandered away from their various piles. His phone had been silent the entire time he was freshening up, which could mean anything. He picked it up, tapping the screen and lighting up the lock screen. Various notifications light up the area below the lock screen clock. Most were spam: a warning about the prediction of acid ran in a few hours or some event Bee was holding that upcoming weekend. He noted the bundle of text messages, one from Charlie at the top of the pile.

He unlocked the phone, pulling up his daughter's text first. The message was a simple request to let her know when he had returned.

He sent her a quick reply, letting her know that he had returned safely, but had accidentally taken a unexpected nap following his return. He didn't have to wait long before she answered back, saying she was glad he was okay. Another message followed, asking if he would be joining them for dinner.

He placed her answer on hold, opting to check on the other messages he had received first. By coincidence, her text message and several from one of his live-servants had arrived, one right after the other, giving the illusion that he was receiving a storm of text messages.

Abiwell was the unlucky imp that had the misfortune of sorting out any correspondence that arrived for the royal family. High was the mountain that was usually for Lilith, everyone wishing for the Queen to grace them with her presence. However, no protocol had been put in place for what to do with her correspondence should she ever leave. So abrupt had been her disappearance, an overwhelmed Lucifer had refused to deal with the issue. With no idea if she would ever return, looking more unlikely the longer she was gone, many of them had simply been placed in her office to wait for her potential return.

Rarely, becoming more so with each passing year, were things that needed Lucifer's attention. Many of his few remaining correspondents had cottoned on that the best way to reach him was via his cellphone. When he'd gone into near total isolation over the last seven years, it had been the only way to reach him. As such, any remaining letters addressed to him had evaporated.

Or so it had seemed.

Innocently sitting in a text, attached as a picture file, was a royal invitation. And not just any invitation, oh no, it was one from one of the ruling families of the Ars Goetia, which meant he really couldn't ignore it. He tapped the image file, enlarging it until he could read the inscription.

His Royal Highness, Stolas, Grand Prince of the Ars Goetia, and Stella, Princess of the Ars Goetia, request the pleasure of the company of Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar at the Coming of Age Ceremony of their daughter Her Royal Highness, Octavia, Heiress of the Ars Goetia on--

Lucifer's first instinct, born of almost a millennium of doing so and not to be undone by a mere seven years, was to forward the message to Lilith. With a sickening lurch, he remembered for what felt like the first time all over again, that that option wasn't an option at all. One, because everything he'd sent her over the last seven years had received a 'message not sent' response and two, because she had left and no one knew where she was. No longer seeing the invitation, Lucifer's grip tightened, the cellphone giving a plasticky sounding creak in protest.

This was one of the ranking members of the royal families of Hell. Hellborn, yes, but still royalty. Each of the Sins, or someone representing them, were expected to show up or it would be viewed as a sever slight. Lilith, his queen and representative, could no longer attend.

Which meant that he would be expected to attend or risk offending one of the higher ranking families of the Ars Goetia.

For one (weak, so very weak) moment, he considered handing the invitation over to Charlie. He was already justifying it to himself - she had to start attending these events some day - before he stopped himself.

No. No, he couldn't send Charlie. The last time he'd (had a bad day) sent Charlie in his place, Heaven had decided to throw a temper tantrum over the fact that a sinner had discovered one of their dirty little secrets.

The phone slid out of nerveless fingers, the little thump as it hit the bed overshadowed by the larger thump of his knees hitting the floor. He covered his mouth, stifling the bitter, hollow laugh rattling around in his lungs. It had been one thing to show his face to the sinners of Pentagram City. He didn't care about their opinions, not really.

Going in front of his fellow peers, the other Sins, was an entirely different animal. The other Sins, his fallen brothers and sisters, were all that remained of his ties to his Heavenly family. They had teased and supported him when he courted and won Lilith's favor. Stood by him when he'd stirred unrest in Heaven. They were the only ones that hadn't turned their backs on him when he fucked up and released the Root of All Evil, giving her a foot hold in Humanity.

And yet, that was what he had done to them. He'd turned his back on them, on everyone, the deeper he'd fallen into the blackhole that was his depression. How could he face them after leaving all of Hell to rot? For driving Lilith away?

It filtered through his thoughts, the realization that he couldn't breathe. His throat felt too tight as his diaphragm felt like it suddenly didn't remember how to work. Trying to focus on his breathing, trying to manually draw in air, seemed to only be making things worse, the blood rushing in his ears as it became too oxygenated--

"Sire?"

Alastor.

Lucifer froze, heart seizing in his chest.

Alastor's footsteps drew near as he came around the bed, stopping at the end as he spotted him.

Their gazes locked, Lucifer's panic rising with each passing heart beat. If he had been any less panicked, he might have remembered that he could have easily opened a portal and fled to the palace. He could have just as easily opened a portal directly under Alastor's feet, sending the sinner on a one way ticket to the floor below them. He was a creature capable of flight and there was a perfectly functional window just off to his right. If for some reason the window wasn't working, see previous portal making ability.

All rationale had gone up in smoke, however, as the memory of Alastor's (Lilith's) words drove all thoughts from his head.

How pathetic.

He watched as Alastor's shoes (when had he dropped his gaze?) came closer. He couldn't bear to see what expression the sinner had on his face, this human whose opinion he swore he didn't care about but apparently still did. He frowned when Alastor came within arm's reach, and then folded himself gracefully down into a crouch in front of him.

The sinner reached out a hand, getting as far as brushing the skin of his hand before the fallen angel flinched, curling in on himself as if he was the one that abhorred touch.

"Sire?" There was no sound of mocking in that voice. Alastor sounded like he was trying to coax out a wild animal that had taken refuge under his porch and then found itself too terrified to leave.

It only made Lucifer want to draw up his knees and hunch his shoulders in. He couldn't understand why Alastor wasn't making some cutting remark about his lack of control. He certainly hadn't held back before.

Confused and unable to articulate the root of his issue, he went with, "But… you hate people touching you."

Alastor huffed. Lucifer finally mustered the courage to glance at his face. His smile was ever present - the blonde was fairly certain the redhead couldn't not smile - but it was closed and smaller than normal. Alastor had no use for kindness, but he did know how to be gentle when necessary. It was the only word - "gentle" - Lucifer could think to explain the expression on his face in that moment.

"You're quite right, your Majesty. I strongly dislike people touching me," Alastor affirmed. When he reached for Lucifer's hand again, the blonde didn't resist out of confusion. "I do find it somewhat tolerable if that touch is happening under my terms."

Lucifer couldn't draw the air in to ask, what are you doing? The question must have shown on his face anyway.

Alastor drew Lucifer's hand in to rest the latter's palm upon the former's chest. Taking a breathe in, the redhead said, "Breathe with me, sire. Deep breathe in, followed by a slow breathe out." He demonstrated the appropriate breathe in through the nose, followed by a longer breathe out through the mouth. Repeated it until Lucifer started to mimic him.

Lucifer's focus narrowed down until all he could feel was the rise and fall of the chest beneath his palm. Until all he could see was that ever present mask of a smile on Alastor's face, the sinner's own coping mechanism with the world. He forced the relaxation of the muscles in his chest and abdomen, trusting his lungs and diaphragm knew what they were doing, careful not to focus too much on the act of breathing itself. To focus on that would be to start the cycle all over again.

He slumped against the side of the bed, feeling shaky and twitchy. His breathing was back under control, but he felt like one wrong thought might send him back over the edge.

Seeing the crisis was temporarily abated, Alastor coaxed and manhandled him up onto the bed. The offending cellphone, with its oh so innocuous message, was deposited on the bedside table, lest it get lost in the bedsheets. A little more maneuvering around and the sinner had his king bundled up in the comforter, Lucifer's head the only visible thing about him.

Lucifer was too blank to do anything other than stare as Alastor took a seat beside him, pulling him up against the redhead's side. He couldn't feel anything through the comforter (which was perhaps the point), but he could feel the sharp tips of claws running lightly across his skull, could feel the whisper of an exhale as it moved several strands of hair.

This show of comfort felt like a ruse, another part of this game that Alastor was playing with him. He knew what the sinner was doing, could see the jaws of the trap closing in around him. When had the game changed from driving him away to pulling him in? What would Alastor do if Lucifer allowed himself to become ensnared, as Alastor was so unwittingly becoming ensnared himself?

No, he would not let himself fall into that trap, not this day. But he would allow himself to accept this comfort, shallow and full of barbs as it was.

They sat there for some undetermined amount of time, Lucifer content to let the warmth of his cocoon seep into his limbs and ease his shivering. It was inevitable that one of them would break the silence, he was merely surprised the sinner was patient enough he lasted as long as he did.

"Will you tell me what troubles you, your Majesty?"

What didn't trouble him? He eyed the deer demon out of the corner of his eye, wondering what he planned to do with this ammunition, should Lucifer choose to confide in him.

Knowing it was no secret he had avoided any social gathering he could get out of, he offered, "Octavia is coming of age. Stolas and Stella are holding a coming of age ceremony for her."

Alastor fell silent, pondering. For clarification, he asked, "The Ars Goetia?"

The noise Lucifer made was somewhere between a snort and a hum, unsurprised that Alastor was up to date even in this area. "Of course you know who they are."

Alastor pulled away, laughing. "I couldn't very well climb the corporate ladder of Pentagram City if I didn't know all of the players in the game." His nails came perilously close to one of the yellow-white ears Lucifer had yet to send away. "They may not play with sinners, but we do all share real estate."

Sinners and Hellborn sharing space in a single ring was always going to be a powder keg waiting to ignite. Where once upon a time, both parties numbers had been so low it had been easy to avoid each other, now humanity's numbers were booming far faster than Hell's native species could keep up.

Alastor's hand came to rest on Lucifer's shoulder, the weight barely noticeable through the thick comforter. There was a thoughtful look on his face as he mused, "I'm a little surprised they're cooperating enough to hold the ceremony. All the latest gossip says she's trying to kill him." He gave Lucifer an amused smile, the edges tinted with mockery. "Ah, the hilarious things you royals do to keep up appearances."

Lucifer nearly snorted, bitterness lapping at the edges of his numbness like the incoming tide. Power was a game of chess, where all the players made small talk and played nice, while everyone was secretly plotting behind everyone else's backs. When marriage was done for politics and status, not for love, it was bound to cause some tension.

He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at his phone. "The Sins - or a stand in - will be expected to go."

Alastor caught on quick. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde, something malicious just beneath the surface of his smile. "Why not send Charlie, then? Has she not represented you in the past?"

Irritation warred with guilt, almost enough to break free. Lucifer bared his teeth in a half hearted snarl, more for show then actually meaning it. The heat in his voice was just as half hearted as he answered, just as honest, "I'm not going to ask her to fight my battles again."

It was unlikely that anything of the magnitude of Heaven upping the extermination of Hell's population of sinners would happen at a coming of age ceremony, but Charlie had had enough bad luck for one year. Why test it some more?

He let the expression drop, pulling the covers tighter around his shoulders. "Besides, it's just a social gathering," he said, as if it hadn't just triggered the beginnings of a panic attack less than ten minutes prior. "I can do a social gathering."

He didn't know who he was trying to fool with that statement, but it certainly wasn't Alastor, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

Oh, who was he kidding? He so couldn't do a social gathering.

Alastor eyed him, considering. "Would it help if someone went with you?"

Lucifer chewed on the idea. "Who would I even ask?" He hadn't gone to a social gathering by himself in hundreds of years. Usually, either Lilith or Lilith and Charlie had gone with him, whether it was the some milestone for the latest heir or a children's play date. He couldn't ask Lilith to go with him for obvious reasons and asking Charlie would feel too much like he was asking her to act as his crutch, something that wouldn't be fair to her. With them not being an option, that kind of left him empty handed. "Nope, can't think of anyone."

"Didn't I tell you, sire?" Something dark and sweet lurked in Alastor's expression as the dealmaker ran his fingers up Lucifer's neck, settling on cupping his jaw. His head was forced to turn until they face to face, Alastor's smile like honey meant to draw the unsuspecting in. "You still have me."

An echo, a whisper, I'll be with you the whole time.

Lucifer was too stunned to react. Their deal was all but done. Alastor had done his part. The only thing left to do was for the sinner to call in his mysterious favor and it would be done. Why would he sign up for a night of babysitting a twitchy fallen angel? Nervously, he laughed. "Funny, I thought you were serious there for a moment."

Alastor drew closer until their noses almost touched. His brow twitched. "I'm quite serious."

Lucifer leaned back. "I'm not about to make another deal with you." His neck twinged, reminding him of the ones he was already trapped in.

The redhead rolled his eyes as if Lucifer was the one being ridiculous. "And who's asking?" He waved the concern away with his free hand. "The experience alone would be of worth to me."

Lucifer doubted it was that simple. Still, he tried picturing it: this taciturn, egotistical sinner in a room full of beings powerful enough to swat him like a fly the moment he annoyed them. Lucifer's could feel the dubious frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "You do realize every single one of the people at this party is going to dislike you, right? Hellborn don't like mingling with sinners."

Alastor looked at him like he wondered who Lucifer thought he was. "This won't be my first party with a pack of wolves."

"You do know you're not invincible, right?" One of these days, Alastor's ego was going to get him killed. To drive this point home, he raised his hand up to the redhead's forehead, made easier by Alastor still being so close, and flicked.

Right where the bullet that had killed him would have exited.

The response was electric.

Alastor's eyes turned red on black, green stitching lighting up his person. His hands, claws razer sharp, caught Lucifer's grip in what would have been a bone crushing grip, had Lucifer been a sinner. "Don't ever do that again." The Radio Demon's smile was long and full of teeth as sharp as his claws. He was fully rejuvenated from his little stunt earlier in the day and he likely could have taken on any of the Overlords in that moment and won.

But as powerful as he was, Lucifer barely felt the grip around his wrist. It would be child's play to break it. Alastor would be nothing more than a fly to even the least powerful member of the Goetia. That was his point.

Lucifer matched his smile with the blankness of apathy. "You wouldn't last the night in the same room with these demons. They'd eat you alive the moment you pissed them off." Would it be worth it to inflict a sinner - this sinner, at that - on the rest of the Goetia just to see how long Alastor could last before someone knocked him down another peg?

Alastor was undeterred by the threat. "Is that a yes?"

This was a bad idea. Lucifer shrugged, feeling a little light headed. "Sure. Just know I'm not bailing you out when you get in over your head."

The redhead released his wrist, finally backing off. His appearance returned to normal, as if he had never lost his temper to begin with. "Perfect. And when is this ceremony?"

Lucifer couldn't believe he was actually doing this. This was such a bad idea. But he was the King of Bad Ideas, was he not? Covering his eyes with a single hand, he groaned.

"It's tomorrow."

tbc

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #deer lucifer fic #hazbin hotel #cw: blood #lucy and al do each other some damage #they're both fine #i had plans for weeks to do a cross over with helluva boss #i just want to play with ozzie and fizz so much #how delightful this is going up the same week we finally got the trailer #also timeline? what timeline?#don't worry about the timeline

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