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#i will keep my eye out if i ever see this person
worldlxvlys · 1 day
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I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)
yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk
Anyways that's all 💋
we can’t be friends
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chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing
a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt
i hope you enjoy
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i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.
of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.
for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.
i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.
but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.
i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?
so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.
i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.
sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.
i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.
i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.
i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.
we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.
“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.
his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.
“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.
“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”
“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.
“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.
“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”
he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.
“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”
“i just can’t be friends with you”
“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.
“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”
“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.
“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”
“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.
“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.
“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.
my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.
“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.
i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”
he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.
i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”
he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.
the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.
“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”
“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”
chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.
“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.
one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.
he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.
this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.
but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.
“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.
“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.
he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.
i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.
i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.
“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.
he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.
he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.
“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.
��you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.
he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.
his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.
he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.
“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.
“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.
“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.
i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.
chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.
“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.
“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.
“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.
“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.
finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.
he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.
my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.
the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.
the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.
my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.
there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.
he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.
he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.
“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.
“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.
“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.
“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.
“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.
“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.
“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.
“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.
“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.
“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.
“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.
“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.
the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.
“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.
“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.
“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.
“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”
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wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
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occamstfs · 2 days
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No Need to Apply
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Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam
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Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.
It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.
Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.
Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.
In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 
He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 
Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”
Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”
It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.
He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 
Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.
Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 
He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 
He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 
Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.
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The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 
His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 
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He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.
He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.
He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.
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Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 
Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.
Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?
He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 
Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.
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If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!
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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.
steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.
eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.
so steve is all over eddie, it seems.
at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.
so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.
robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?
eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.
it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?
- robin and steve
“Steve.”
“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“
“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…
Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.
“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”
To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”
“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.
“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”
“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“
“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”
To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.
“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.
“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”
“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“
“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.
“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”
She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.
He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.
After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.
“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”
He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.
“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“
“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.
“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“
“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”
Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.
“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”
“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”
“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”
- later. steve’s house. to be continued?
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pit-and-the-pen · 10 hours
Text
Unrequited Love
A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.
Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel. I’m thinking of making this like a mini series but idk who reader would end up with. (Let me know if you have any suggestions!)
Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.
Warnings: none
WC-1.4K
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My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.
“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”
His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.
“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.
“So this new book I’m reading…”
“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.
“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.
“What?”
“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”
His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.
“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.
The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.
“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.
“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”
“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.
“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”
My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.
“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”
Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.
“Wait-“
“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.
“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”
When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.
“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.
“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”
He gasped at my words cutting me off
“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”
A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.
“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side
“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.
“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”
He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.
“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.
I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has
been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”
“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”
I walked out of that room with my head held high
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Genshin SAGAU where they hide in the Fortress Of Meropide in order to live a normal life. (2)
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now that you got caught, he promised to keep your secret but... also shout out to @/udretlnea for a scene idea not proof read
You stood there, frozen in shock that your identity was easily found out by him. "I-I..." you stuttered, not knowing what to say, "You must have a reason to stay in the shadows..." he added, inching even closer. Wriothesley's piercing stare made you uncomfortable as you just looked down.
"I-I just want to live a normal life..." you replied. It took a moment for him to respond, "You don't belong here, your Grace. To stay in this facility for years to come, I don't think that's living a normal life." He replied. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him, "Please, no need to call me by that title." you told him.
"...You're finally looking at me." he mumbled as he stared at you. He couldn't believe it... It's you... The Creator. "You can't be here, you deserve to be out there. Exploring the world, your Grace..." he added. "No... I just... I just want to live a normal life so please just- just forget this ever happened-" you were cut off by him. "I'll take care of everything if that's what you wish, Your Grace... With your criminal record, I don't think people would bat an eye around you." he reassured you. You were quiet for a moment, thinking of a response...
"Your Grace?" the two of you turned around to see one of the Guards, "Um..." the guard looked at Wriothesley. You cleared your throat and looked away. Wriothesley let out a small laugh while the guard just looked confused but brushed it off. Before he walked up to the guard, he leaned in close to you, "Come to my office at 9." he whispered in your ear and soon left.
Creator! Reader whose sentence was cut short because of... well... his doing. Before you left the Fortress of Meropide, he gave you a bag of mora and a small hut on the mountains where Fontainians don't really go to. He reassured you that you would be given an allowance every week to which you were thankful of.
You just wished he was the last person to know of your identity...
Creator! Reader who does live a peaceful life outside the city of Fontaine, you do go there from time to time for groceries but you do it quick in order to not attract anyones attention. Basically living as a shadow.
You decided to go to the city today because of a merchant from Liyue is selling rice and other goods that you missed in your original life. You bought the things you needed as quick as possible, while walking to the exit, you notice three familiar people...
Oh shit! Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet!
You froze for a moment, you turned around but Freminet had already noticed you. You were about to run but- oh shoot a child infront of you!
You abruptly stop, resulting in you dropping to the ground. You could hear loud footsteps running up to you. "Umm... are you alright...?" you heard a quiet voice call out for you who turned out to be Freminet who held out his hand. Lyney and Lynette were picking up your groceries. You stared at him for a moment before grabbing his hand. He helped you stand up as you hissed in pain.
You looked at your hands to see the palm of your hands were grazed, and you notice the bits of... Golden blood showing... You could feel your heart drop to the floor. "Here are your groceries! You should be careful next time." Lyney spoke out as he handed you your groceries to which you were quick to snatch from him.
He didn't even get to say a word before you bowed and came off running. Lyney watched as you run away, "Huh... must be in a hurry." he mumbled. "They kind of look suspicious..." Lynette whispered to which Lyney just brushed off. While Lyney and Lynette were talking, Freminet stood there, frozen as he stared at his hand that held yours.
Bits of... Golden liquid were on his palm... Did this mean-
"Freminet! Come on, Lynette is bugging us to go already, there's a bake sale going on." Lyney called out his name, to which he flinched. "Oh... Um... I'll be right there!" he replied.
He glanced at the palm of his hand again, 'If they are the Creator... then... why are they hiding...?' he thought.
ill write a part 3 soon, ill wrap this whole story in part 3 :))
Tags: @uchihaeirin (did I do it right like the tagging?? ajdhlkej im new sorry lmaoo)
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paigebueckersmommy · 10 hours
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just tired - p.b
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paige bueckers x reader
requested by anon (kinda)
warnings: ed! , mental health issues, passing out
if you or anyone you know is struggling with an ed, don’t be afraid to reach out for help and my messages are open ❤️
you didn’t know what it was but recently you had been struggling a lot recently and didn’t know why. you had the worlds best girlfriend, and the best friends that you could ask for.
recently you found yourself looking at the back of food packaging, and always being tired.
the past 4 times you went to paige’s dorm you fell asleep almost instantly, which wasn’t normal for you. paige knew about your past with ed your freshman year, and was always checking in but things didn’t start getting bad for you till recently. paige had taken you on a vacation for your 2 year anniversary and you got insecure when you put on a swimsuit for the first time in months.
you were at paige’s dorm, laying in her bed with paige next to you eating a bag of goldfish. “baby do you want some?” paige said. “uh no i’m fine i had something before i came.” you say with uncertainty in your voice knowing that you wouldn’t be able to look at the food label without paige seeing. “are you okay princess? you’ve said that the past couple times you’ve been here when i’ve offered you food and your always falling asleep. i’m getting worried”paige said siting up and looking at you. “P, i promise im fine. “ you say pressing a kiss to her lips.
the next day
it was 7pm, and you were at the gym for the 2nd time that day. you were running on the treadmill watching the ‘cals. burned’ part of the screen go up when you got in incoming facetime call from paige. knowing she would freak out if she knew you were there for the 2nd time, you ran into the bathroom and into the stall at the end before picking up. you answer the phone, out of breath. “hi baby! i was wonder- ma where are you?” paige said with confusion. “oh uh- i’m at the gym.” you say knowing you couldn’t keep anything from paige. “baby didn’t you go this morning before your first class?” paige says.
“y-yea but i had some extra time on my hands tonight.” you say with shaky breath. “okay. as long as your eating 3 meals a day baby.” paige says with a sincere voice. “anyway i was wondering segue you get home if i could come over. i need to study and kk is being so loud playing fortnite… i also miss you.” you smile. “yea paige that’s fine ill be home in like 30 minutes.” you lie. you would be home in 15.
when you get home you shower, feeling faint. you change into sweats as you are cold despite taking a hot shower. you brush your hair and start walking into the living room when-
you pass out.
paige’s pov:
i jiggle my keys into her apartment door when i walk in and she’s on the floor of her living room. i immediately drop all my stuff, rushing next to her side. i start nudging and shaking her with panic, “baby wake up it’s me paige please baby,” i say as i feel a tear form and not long after i feel it fall.
readers pov:
i feel myself being shaken. was i asleep? did i fall asleep on my floor? “baby please wake up,” i hear paige say as i start to comprehend the things happening. “paige what happened,” you say, fluttering your eyes. “baby i think you passed out are you okay? why haven’t you been eating.” paige says as you notice that’s she’s crying.
“baby please talk to me. i’ve been worrried by you a lot recently.” paige helps you up as you both sit on your couch. “i-i don’t know. it’s just that i feel like my body isn’t good enough i need to lose weight.”
paige looks at you. “baby. your the most perfect girl i’ve ever met. every part of you, your personality, your body, your face, anything. you don’t have to change anything about you baby your already perfect.”
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urhoneycombwitch · 2 days
Text
plan b
___
foreword: thank you to this anon, this was just the right amount of sitcom Spider-man pointing meme-ery that I needed. wrote this with husky!neighbor!Eddie since I thiiiink I’ve established that version of him is modern so hopefully this aligns with my made-up canon. lol.
wc: 1.9k
cw: weight mention (in the context of finding meds, no numbers used), embarrassment on R’s end of kink discussion, frenemies vibes between R and Eddie (they get under each other’s skin but in a hot way <3), Eddie is soft-domming in public, no actual smut but still +18 mdni
DISCLAIMER: Plan B can really fuck your shit up and shouldn’t necessarily be used when introducing new kinks. Please do your research and consult w/ a medical professional before using. Putting the fiction in fic with this one.
_____
Christ, there are too many options.
Your vision is swimming in the Family Planning aisle, fluorescent overheads of the CVS taking up residence in your left temple.
You press your fingertips against the spot, massaging gently as you pull different brands of boxes from the shelf to inspect the instructions.
This one says take within twenty-four hours, that might be- oh, shit, there’s a weight cap. Dammit. And this one’s… twice the price? For fucking why?
Frustrated, you shove the expensive thing back in place. The words on the blue label next in line catches your eye- Pre-Seed Fertility Lubricant- and you snap your hand away, as if scorched. Nope. Opposite of what you need. Christ. Pre-Seed?!
It’s almost giggle-worthy. You take out your phone, glancing up and down the aisle; the store is empty this late at night, just an older woman behind the front registers who had greeted you earlier with bored corporate formality, eyes fixed on her magazine.
Picture of Pre-Seed, taken. Check that one off the list. The only person who you’d want to share a laugh over text about this with is the one person who does not need to know why you’re in the goddamn Family Planning aisle at ten PM. On a Thursday.
At least, not yet. You lock your phone, pocketing it before zeroing in on the purple and green-themed Plan B that boasts One Tablet, One Step.
Although it’s pricier than some of the other morning-after pills, it’s the only one that you feel fully confident about buying. You give the box a little toss, feeling the next-to-nothing weight of it in your palm. Fifty bucks for a tiny pill, one that you may not even end up using- but you’ll be goddamned if you’re caught unprepared.
“Can I help you find anything?”
Your blood flashes cold, then hot, as you realize who the voice belongs to- attention focused elsewhere, you didn’t hear Eddie sidling up the aisle until now.
He’s leaning into his arm on the nearest shelf, grinning wolfishly at his own joke, chocolate eyes lit up at having found you here. He looks obscene- biceps and chest bulging at the stretched fabric of his t-shirt, hair unspooling dark curls from a low bun, black ink tattoos rippling over his bare forearms and peeking out from beneath his collar.
Honestly, you don’t know why he wasn’t stopped at the door by the woman on night shift. He’s bordering public indecency with those fitted Levi’s alone.
Fortunately the shock of hearing Eddie’s low voice is not enough to send the Plan B in your hand flying- too late to reshelve it without him seeing, you cling to it tighter, plastic creaking under your grip as you pray to every god ever that he doesn’t notice.
“Oh! Hey. Hi. Haha, very funny.” Well, that was smooth, but at least you said something comprehensible. “What’re you doing here?”
Eddie doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss, using his free arm to reach for a pack of condoms near your head- “Late night shopping. Stocking up for the weekend. Can’t seem to keep these around, seeing as I’m being fucked out of house and home.”
”Well… apartment,” you correct, heart leaping at the smile lines that jump around Eddie’s eyes. This is good, maybe you can just keep him talking and find a second to shove the Plan B into a random spot or perhaps launch it into the sun-
Nope, too late. Mid-crinkle, Eddie’s eyes drop to the package in your hand, and you watch his face drop as he processes multiple trains of thought at once.
“Oh, shit. Is that… did we…?”
There’s a pinch between his dark brows, likely running through the last few weeks of your hookups (which have all been protected) and trying to do the mental math; you shake your head, trying to stammer through the flush of embarrassment that’s overtaking your system.
“No, it’s not- not from us. Not from you. I mean…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably from one sneaker to the other as words hit a jam in your throat.
Eddie’s in a full frown now, pushing off the shelf, standing to his full height, confusion and hurt seeping into his expression, voice quiet and pitched deep- “Is it from someone else?”
“Oh my god.” This was a nightmare, right? You’d like to wake up now. “No, no, not from anyone else. It’s-”
A sharp exhale, a shake of your head, and the words loosen all at once- “I was gonna get it for us, for me, for this weekend, if you wanted to give me a reason to use it.”
Eddie goes as still as you’ve ever seen him before, fingers stopped in their usual constant tapping, blinking at the box in your hands.
His face smooths.
Then he smiles.
Your stomach flips.
Eddie slides the condoms back into the wrong spot, not bothering to look as he leans in close enough for you to smell the spice of his cologne as he says in a sex-dipped timbre: “Well if you wanted me to fill you up with my cum, why didn’t you just say so?”
A horrified, awkward squawk escapes before you can bite it back; your head whips down the aisle to make sure no one else was within earshot of his dirty mouth as you blindly shove the Plan B away, deep into a shelf. “Oh my god. Jesus christ.”
”Eddie is just fine,” he responds mildly, the cool demeanor to your rapidly heating one as his grin simmers wicked between dimpled cheeks.
“Forget it,” you start, shaking your head and making to brush past, embarrassment flooding in hot, “Just forget-”
Eddie catches you by the elbow, effectively locking you in place with a single move, but he’s not looking at you; with his free hand, he snaps up the slightly crumpled box and scans the words.
“Y’think one will be enough?”
The flood subsides, gives you pause enough to stutter out, “W-what?”
Eddie’s fingers flex on your arm. He turns the box over in his big hand, rings glinting. “We’d better get two. Just in case.”
Your skin feels the impression of his palm even after he lets go, like a Polaroid in rapid reverse as he grabs a second box, warmth fading fast from your skin. “I don’t think- I mean, that’s not how they work, I should probably find a more permanent sol-”
“Just for the weekend.” His eyes are back on you now, self-satisfied smirk giving way to something darker, more intense. “Yeah?”
A shiver casts goosebumps down the length of your body. He’s goddamn toying with you, in the middle of a fucking CVS. Despite your flare of irritation, you nod, voice nearly a croak as you echo, “Yeah.”
The grin lights up his face again. “Good girl.”
Eddie doesn’t give you time to react to this (verbally, anyways- your cunt is most certainly responding to the praise despite your best efforts to remain unaffected), using one large hand to hold both boxes and another to press at the small of your back, leading you down the aisle.
Truthfully, you’re grateful for the help (regardless of his dominance-based tendencies that don’t usually get you this easy); based on the ringing in your ears, you’re doubtful of your own ability to navigate the maze of aisles.
Eddie walks you both to the front register, and you watch as if outside of your own body while the cashier scans the barcodes and Eddie swipes his card.
He pockets the receipt, slides a finger through the handles of the plastic bag, and holds it out between your bodies. Right in front of the goddamn cashier.
”For you.”
This brings you back to yourself, a bit, mortification giving way to annoyance (a much more useful emotion in this scenario), and you snatch it to your chest. It’s your turn to grab Eddie’s elbow, half-dragging him towards the exit.
“Come again soon,” the cashier calls, still in monotone.
So close. You’re less than a yard away from the sliding glass doors that would have swallowed Eddie’s reply- but as it stands, he gets in one last cheerful wave, an award-winning, dimple-charmed smile to match his bright response.
“She will!”
Damn him. You give a final tug and you’re both out in the parking lot, glass doors closing automatically with a whoosh behind you, cool night air kissing at your cheeks.
”Seriously?” You’re mature enough to recognize that your anger is misplaced, adrenaline-fueled, but that doesn’t stop you from whirling on Eddie, giving his shoulder a sharp shove that (unfortunately, tantalizingly) doesn’t move him an inch. “I can never return to this fucking store. Thanks for that.”
Eddie really doesn’t help his case, grin turned shit-eating as he rustles through his various pockets for his pack of cigarettes- “Careful, sweetheart- you know how hot and bothered I get when you’re mad.”
”Unbelievable.” You turn on a swift heel, slipping the bag loops up your arm to dig for your keys. “You just got me blacklisted from our local drugstore and you don’t even care.”
There’s the snick of a lighter behind you, while your car a few spaces down chirrups and blinks in response to the furious press of your fob’s unlock button.
Eddie chuckles, sardonic and unsympathetic. “Too bad this is the only CVS in the whole world. I think you’ll live, princess.”
Ignoring this, you stomp towards your car, petulant, bag rustling; the door is half-open when Eddie calls, “So, are you coming over tonight, or what?”
“Obviously!”
The door slams with more force than you intend, sound ricocheting across the lot.
From the respite of your tinted windows, you watch as a streetlamp-haloed Eddie takes a drag from a cigarette, smoke drifting thick around a hazy visage of the hottest man alive. (Maybe you’re a touch biased. But your opinion is based on personal accounts, so fuck the naysayers.)
He tips his head back to look at the stars, pale column of throat illuminated- with a flush of realization, you scoff. He’s putting on a show for you.
Two can play, you think, driving your seatbelt into place with a click. But first I’m gonna have to make a stop at home. Namely for new undies.
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ladykailitha · 3 days
Text
Icarus Part 8
Hey, guys! The plot is plotting and coming along. I've just had a rough week last week and really didn't get too far on any of my works but the omegaverse sequel. So I'm chomping through my backlog (which is a good thing, I promise, that's what it's for).
In this Steve has to deal with the not fun side of the music business, but Eddie is there to soothe the way.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7
****
Steve chewed on his nail as he looked over the contract for the tour they were going to be headlining for Corroded Coffin. It came with their usual anonymity clause.
The part Steve wasn’t sure about was the part where the guys and his roles on the tour to hide that they were part of the band.
Spence being a medic made sense. He was medically trained as an EMT and kept up on his certification even after they made it big.
Simon’s made sense too. Eddie had seen him as a roadie that night, so him continuing that was fine.
It was Shane and Steve’s that concerned him. He didn’t want to PA for The Fallen because then Dustin and his friends would want things like backstage passes and VIP tickets.
Things Steve didn’t want to do because that would get them too close to the action and he worried they would notice that they wouldn’t see Abbadon and him in the same place and put two and two together.
Shane’s role was that of an advance person. Someone that rode into town first to make sure everything was as it supposed to be according to their rider.
Steve loved Shane with all his heart, but he couldn’t think of a worse “job” for him.
Plus it wouldn’t make sense because he wouldn’t be on the same bus as the rest of the band.
He called up Robin.
“Hello!” she chirped her greeting. “What’s up?”
“I’m looking over the contract and they want me to PA and Shane to advance.”
There was silence on the line for a moment or two before Robin said, “I’m on it. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks, Celeste,” Steve teased.
He was not surprised when she just hung up on him. He chuckled.
His best friend was working on getting Shane and him in the right roles. On their last tour, Shane and Simon had been roadies and Steve had been an assistant like Robin.
Steve looked back at the contract with a sigh. He set it aside and pulled out his notebook. He couldn’t write lyrics or music, but he could write down his thoughts and feelings.
He wrote about the fear of being discovered, of showing his true self. What people would think of him and his friends. Everyone said that metal fans were among the most welcoming in the industry.
Unless you looked like someone they didn’t approve of. Steve couldn’t remember which 1980s rocker it was, but the dude was papped outside a store waiting for his wife in cargo shorts and Birkenstocks and the internet had a fucking field day.
Like how dare he go to the store not dressed all in black and leather and chains everywhere.
It was no doubt the biggest reason no one had cottoned on to him and his friends being The Fallen. Because why would four preppy guys be the members of the hottest rising metal band right now?
He flipped to a different page and began writing about finding love where you left it. Eddie had always had Steve’s heart, ever since they were thrown together when a freak earthquake that was caused by nearby fracking destroyed almost half the town they grew up in.
Eddie ran the local DND club which Dustin and his friends had been a part of.
Steve had managed to keep all of them safe and Eddie, who had been unsure of the former jock had warmed up to him by the time they had come through at the end of the week long ordeal.
Steve had fallen in love with Eddie’s sense of humor, his dimpled smile, and doe brown eyes.
So he wrote about that too.
By the time Robin had called back he had written so much his hand was cramping.
“Hello, hello!” he greeted warmly.
“Hey,” Robin said. “So I talked it over with their lawyers and ours and I think we’ve go the solution.”
“Hit me with it,” Steve said.
“Right so we have Shane assisting with me,” she said. “He doesn’t have anyone really close to him who would ask for favors and shit, or at least not ones he wouldn’t gleefully tell to fuck off.”
Steve sighed in relief. “That’s good.”
“You were a little trickier,” Robin admitted. “But then I remembered you picked up a couple of CPR certifications in the past and got them to make you medic too. You just have to take the refresher courses while we’re in the studio.”
Steve chewed on his thumb. He had wanted to be an EMT before he met Spence and saw how much it took out of him.
“Wouldn’t it look bad if two medics suddenly vanished for two hours every night?”
Robin chuckled. “You’re assigned especially to the band. So you can’t be called during a performance. I do think of these things you know.”
Steve sighed with relief. “I know you do, I just worry.”
“Worry wart,” she teased. “It’ll be fine. You just have to keep it in your pants while on tour because an EMT dating a rockstar is going to be suspicious as hell.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “You mean like every other tour we’ve been on?”
“Only this time,” she said, voice dangerously low, “you’ve got temptation in the form of one Eddie Munson, the man you’ve been pining over for literal years.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve groused. “Am I at least allowed to be seen with Eddie you know, considering we are friends?”
Robin sighed dramatically. “I guess. Just try to keep the PDA to a minimum please.”
“I promise.”
This was going to a very long three month tour.
****
Jim Hopper was a former Marine and he looked it. He was built like a tank with a grizzled appearance and cigar tucked between his teeth. Simon thought that he thought Hopper scared the enemy off just glaring at them and Steve privately agreed.
He was there for two reasons. To deprogram their stage persona and to brush Steve up on his emergency medical training.
Actually they all were learning because it was it interesting. Simon and Shane didn’t need to pay attention for certification, but they did anyway.
“How long do you guys plan to be in the studio this week?” Hopper asked. “I need to know if I need to have someone else pick up my daughter from the airport.”
“They want us to have at least eight hours in the studio a day,” Shane explained. “They want us to get as much done as we can before Corroded Coffin goes on tour so they can at least release a single or two.”
Hopper nodded. “Then I should be fine. She’s a fashion designer in New York and the fashion house she works at is sending her out here to intern at their LA branch.”
“That’s awesome!” Shane said. “Maybe while she’s here we can fan her design our costumes for the new tour.”
Hopper shook his head. “As long as it paid. This internship sure ain’t.”
Robin threw her arms in the air. “Fine! I’ll see what the budget is for that and get back to you.”
Hopper chuckled.
“They have you wrapped around their fingers, girly.”
Robin smirked. “Don’t I know it.”
****
That night Steve called Eddie up.
“Hey, baby,” he cooed.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie greeted back. “How did today go? It was first day with the deprogramer, right?”
Steve curled up on the sofa and tucked his feet under him. “It was okay. He’s a bit scary, but apparently he has a daughter Dustin’s age.”
“The butthead will be pissed he missed that,” Eddie chuckled.
“Yeah,” Steve agreed warmly. “She’s really pretty, too.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Suzie’s a great girl. But we all know here parents aren’t going to let her marry someone ‘outside the faith’ as it were.”
Steve chewed on his thumbnail. “Yeah. I was hoping with them both going home for the whole summer would break them up.”
Eddie scoffed. “It’s good thing talk and text is included in mobile plans these days unlike in early days of yore when mobile plans made you pay for every text message and long distance calling, otherwise their cell phone bills would be through the fucking roof.”
“Tell me about,” Steve huffed. “And he’s going to spending the last week of vacation in Utah with her.”
“Eeee,” Eddie said with a grimace, “is it bad of me that I hope her parents scare him off?”
“Maybe a little,” Steve admitted. “But I just want him to be happy, you know?”
Eddie let out a long drawn out sigh. “Yeah. So you guys got the contract all figured out?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Steve muttered. “It’s going to be hard being in the studio and taking EMT course to pretend to be medical personnel. Well not really pretending. Both me and one of the other band members have training. Me with being a lifeguard for awhile there and them with being an EMT. But it feels wrong somehow.”
“Is there something else, some other role you can fill?” Eddie asked after a moment or two of silence.
“Not according to Robin,” Steve groused. “She says it’ll be fine and no one will figure it out. And I trust her. Her plans have gotten us through two tours already, one even being overseas...”
“But you’re still worried because I’ll be on the road with you?” Eddie asked gently.
Steve threw his head back and groaned. “God that sounds so horrible of me.”
“Hey, hey,” Eddie admonished. “It’s not. It’s an extra variable you didn’t have to factor in before. But we will make it work.”
“I think the biggest part is that Eddie and Steve have to remain friends until after the tour so everyone doesn’t connect Steve with Abbadon,” he said. “God that sounded pretentious. Talking in third person like some Chad.”
Eddie giggled. “Maybe a little, but I got what you mean.”
“Don’t laugh!” Steve whined. “My dick is going to fall off from the sheer amount of blue balling that’s going to be happening on this fucking tour. Well not fucking actually. I’m going to be in hell!”
“And people tell me I’m dramatic,” Eddie said laughing out loud. “What do you normally do on tour?”
Steve sat up and stretched his feet out in front of him on the sofa. “It’s complicated.”
Eddie snorted. “I don’t doubt that, sweetheart. Are we talking NDAs or fucking with the masks on?”
Steve laughed. “It’s more like no phones, dark room, no staying the night. That sort of thing.”
“I’m betting there aren’t many that agree to that.”
“More than you’d think,” Steve snorted. “Groupies gotta fuck.”
“We’ll figure something out. I won’t let those pretty balls go blue,” Eddie said with a snicker.
“Help me, Eddie-wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope!” Steve cried in a sharp falsetto.
Eddie laughed. “You’re a menace, Steve Harrington.”
“And you love it.”
Warmth just flooded Eddie’s tone when he replied, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Eds.”
****
Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie
@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach
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@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
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@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners
@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade
@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars
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little-diable · 15 hours
Text
Because the rain keeps falling – Tommy Shelby (smut)
This story is very dear to me, I don't know why, but it feels awfully personal. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: It's April 23rd, time for (y/n)'s yearly visit. But this year it'll be the last visit, giving the two of them one last chance to search the love they foster for one another.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, melancholic vibe, I don’t want to give too much away lol
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.6k words)
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He had his eyes focused on his documents, rereading the typed lines for the fifth time that night. Tommy’s head was hurting, pounding as if he had forced two bottles of liquor down his system only hours ago. Not even the smell of his cigarettes managed to distract him from the uneasiness clinging to him. 
A sigh clawed through Tommy as he placed his glasses down to let his head roll back. His eyes fluttered close, inhaling and exhaling a few deep breaths like he had been taught years ago, swallowed by darkness whenever he had to move beneath the ground. 
“Evening, Tommy.” His eyes shot open, body thrown into a fight or flight reaction as the unfamiliar voice wrapped itself around him. A voice so unfamiliar, it instantly snapped into place as his eyes found her piercing ones. She was leaning against the doorframe, arms wrapped in front of his chest, lips pulled into the breathtaking smile he hadn’t seen in exactly twelve months. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to frighten you, how impolite of me to just barge in.” Her dark boots met the ground, covered in mud and soil. Slowly she moved towards Tomy, only to plop down in the chair placed in front of his desk. “Can I?” 
“Of course, here.” He reached a cigarette out for (y/n) to take, rising to his feet to light it for her. His bright eyes didn’t stray from hers once, watching her every move to try and figure out what her next words would sound like. 
“It’s April the 23rd.” (Y/n)’s words left a pregnant pause, silent seconds Tommy used to study her, the dirty fingers that were covered in the same soil as her boots, the holes in her trousers that exposed parts of her legs, and the knitted sweater she had worn the last time he had seen her. And yet she was as breathtakingly beautiful as she always had been.
“I must have forgotten. I’m sorry, how foolish of me, eh?” A laugh rumbled through Tommy, a sound that managed to grow her smile, paired with a soft shake of her head. Smoke kept leaving her nostrils, wrapping (y/n) in a blue cloud that only made her eyes appear more dangerous, adding that twinkle he’d see late at night when his thoughts start to wander. 
“Forgotten? I highly doubt that, Mister Shelby.” (Y/n) stubbed out her cigarette before she rose to her feet, rounding his desk to plop down on the expensive wood. She cupped his cheek with her fingers, letting him inhale her scent, the mixture of rain, soil, and incense. His eyes fluttered close as she stroked his lips with her thumb, smiling down at the man who seemed to instantly relax at her touch. 
“This is the last time we can do this, Tommy. He is focused on me lately, I can’t risk anything, for both our sakes.” His low hum left her chuckling, a sound that turned into a laugh as Tommy pulled her into his lap without a warning, lips finding (y/n)'s before a reply could claw its way through Tommy. 
Their lips moved in sync, hands finding one another’s body to search the closeness both had been aching for since her last visit. Her cold fingers undid the buttons of his vest, desperate to expose his body to her wandering eyes, a sight she had longed for. Tommy was just as impatient, momentarily breaking from the kiss to tug her sweater over her head. 
“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ll ever be fortunate enough to marvel at.” He mumbled the words against her lips, letting his hands move up her naked upper body, cupping her breasts. (Y/n) arched herself into his touch, while grinding her core against his hardening cock, desperate to feel him beneath her. 
“You were always good with words, weren’t you?” Her teasing words were stuck in her throat as Tommy rose to his feet, holding onto (y/n) before plopping her down on his desk. Tommy towered over her as if he was the one guiding her every movement, the guiding hand she’d reach for in the depth of the night, the last Hallelujah rolling off her tongue. 
“If tonight is all I have left of you, I want to taste you, remember you for as long as I’ll get the chance to.” He pulled her torn trousers down her legs, letting his warm mouth find her aching cunt without another spoken word leaving him. (Y/n) choked on his name, letting her dirty fingers tug on his hair as Tommy brushed his tongue through her slit. 
“Fuck, I almost forgot how good you’re at this.” Breathy chuckles left her as Tommy ate her out, pushing her closer towards the edge within seconds. Two of his fingers were pushed into her tightness, spreading her walls as his tongue kept brushing against her pulsing bundle, high on her taste. (Y/n) was everything his body was aching for, longing for her the second she left his side, promising to return the next year, and the following, all up until this very day. 
“I need you inside of me, fuck me, please.” Their eyes met, his full of love and lust, hers full of longing and sadness. Slowly, Tommy pulled away, only to free his twitching cock from his dark suit trousers. He reached for her throat to tug her closer, lips finding hers again while he pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her wrapped around him. 
For a moment, neither of them dared to move, clinging to one another like lost ships sailing through uneasy waters, knowing they could only trust one another. Tommy held her as if she was the treasure keeping his heart safe, locked away from all the pain he had to face; (y/n) held him as if he was the soul she had been searching for all this time. 
Only slowly did he begin to move, fucking her on the table like a lover would fuck his significant other beneath a starry sky, fuelled by unspoken promises. Their bodies searched one another’s closeness, letting her walls flutter around his cock, wordlessly begging him to add more speed to his thrusts. 
Even though both wanted to drag out this moment, knowing that it was the last time they could hold on like this, their bodies were desperate for their highs. Soon enough, they would cum in unison, letting go of one another’s name like a prayer spoken in a moment of need and loss. A moment of loss they’d soon enough live through, letting their hands drop as their eyes met for the last time.
“It’s an old story, a story I never believed in. But now I do,” her whispers rang in his ears as he pressed his lips to her throat, sucking on her cold skin to try and leave his mark on her body. “I love you, Tommy Shelby.”
His eyes met hers, momentarily allowing his pace to falter to wipe away the one single tear managing to leave her sad eyes. He kissed her to distract her from her pain, a distraction she needed to give in, to choke on his name as her high wrecked through her. Tommy kept fucking (y/n), searching his own release with his lips still pressed against hers. 
Their bodies stayed connected as he came, imprinting himself on her walls as if this could change the outcome of this very situation. It was a foolish thought, a thought both clung to as he pulled away, careful not to hurt her. 
No words were spoken as they redressed, not daring to let their gazes meet while doing so. Only as Tommy sat down in his chair, reaching for another cigarette to let a few deep exhales pass his lips, did they dare to lift their eyes. She cupped his cheek with sorrow swimming in her pupils. 
“What will happen? Will you come and pick me up?” It was nothing but a whisper, and yet his words sounded like screams to her, burning through her body. (Y/n) matched the deep exhales leaving him, leaning back against his desk to properly study him. He had aged since the first time they had met, deep beneath the ground, and yet he looked even more handsome than all those years ago. 
“I will. Can you promise me not to make it any harder on us?” (Y/n) took his cigarette from his lips to take a drag herself, staring down at Tommy as he nodded his head. It had been their deal for years, adding another year to the list while he promised that when the day would come, he wouldn’t fight it. “Good. There is only so much parting from you I can endure, all I ask of you is to make this last voyage bearable for us both.” 
“Dying with you by my side will be an honour, (y/n).” With one last kiss pressed to his lips, (y/n) left his office. Her dirty fingers reached into her pocket, pulling out the old, leather-bound booklet to cross out Tommy’s name like she had done for the past years, only to add it to another page. Another year she granted him to live, one last year to be on this earth before she’d guide him towards the cemetery, to dig out his grave with her hands buried in soil, and her boots stuck in the muddy ground.
Because the rain keeps falling whenever she guides another soul away from this world. 
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jsprnt · 1 day
Text
Americano PT. 8 | Jude Bellingham x Reader
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What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?
A/N: this one is a bit on the shorter side, but I promise next chapter will be juicy! 😉
W/C: 3.086
part seven
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"Wait- why am I actually kind of bitter about this?"
I mumble, looking up at Luis. He turns around, moving his camera away to look at me.
"Bitter about what?" He asks, fidgeting with the settings of the device.
"They literally crap out money- but get a free BMW?" I question, folding my arms.
"Oh, please. Will you stop being such a negative person?"
He gives me a nasty look, his hand coming to grab my arm.
"Or go sit in the car..?" He adds, pointing behind me.
"No, it's too hot to sit in the car.." I complain, adjusting my sleeve.
"Why did you even follow me here in the first place?" He asks, raising his brows.
"I was done with my to-do list and didn't want to stay cooped up in the office.."
Not to mention to avoid the insanely annoying looks I had been receiving ever since those stupid rumors and photos had been out.
"Okay, just stay back and watch then.."
I watch him make cinematic shots of each individual model and car. My patience begins to thin when he's still busy with it twenty minutes later.
I pull my phone out of my pocket to keep myself busy. I carefully scroll through my Instagram explore page, ignoring the thousands of follower requests to my account.
The internet was very quick, so within hours of my face being online, people had found both my full name and social media accounts.
"y/n!"
I freeze, holding my phone against my chest, and turn in the direction the noise came from.
I make immediate eye contact with Valeria, her obnoxiously fake smile burning my eyes instantly.
"Yeah? Anything wrong with the shoot?" I ask, shoving my phone into my pocket.
"No, the players have just arrived- and it's a better look if you're off your phone and look interested."
I fight the urge to snort at her ridiculous comment, and just nod before I lose it.
"Sure, any reason you're here today? It's only for some short clips..”
I watch her take a step forward, a hand reaching up to her hip. She moves her neck in a weird way, staring at me for a moment.
"It's always good to see how my juniors work, and how close they are to the players is really something I like keeping an eye on.."
Oh- surprise, she was here for something stupid!
I was already over her snarky remarks, especially those insinuating a romantic relationship between Jude and me.
The thought only makes me want to gag.
I shiver at the cursed idea, noticing a few players already walking over to check out the new car they chose, and look back at Valeria.
"Well, I'm sure some of the guys really need your presence and knowledge. Please, go and join them.."
I instigate, hoping and wishing she goes to bother Toni instead.
For some reason, he could handle her bullshit really well.
"Oh, don't mind if I do.." She chuckles, immediately turning her back to me and walking away.
I sigh in relief, rubbing my nape to try to release some tension from my body.
I begin walking up to the cars myself, reading off every license plate to see which player got what model.
I stop at the car chosen by Aurélien, observing the details of the 'i4 eDrive35'.
« Très belle, non? » I hear him say. I nod, pursing my lips.
« Le couleur- noir est parfait.. » I compliment, stepping back to get a better view.
I open my mouth to say something else- but I'm startled by a loud car horn, it almost makes my eardrums explode. I shut my eyes tightly, not reacting fast enough to cover my ears properly.
"What the fuck.." I mumble, looking to my left. An obviously aggravated expression on my face, because who the hell thought that was a good idea?
“Jude! Get out of your mom’s car, please!” I exclaim, seeing him stand at the driver’s door.
The man couldn’t even drive, but got to choose a car for himself?
Not even that- he also chose the most expensive model worth more than a hundred thousand euros?
Life is so unfair.
“You’re standing in the way!” He exclaims, walking around to sit in the passenger seat. Another staff member comes over to drive him around the parking lot.
I give him a nasty look, stepping aside and looking back at Aurélien.
“Why don’t you join him?” He suggests, an obvious smirk on his face.
“What? Why would I do that?” I ask, raising my brows and folding my arms defensively.
“You know- nice car and fun drive..” He trails off, glancing at the moving car.
“I would feel like I’m in danger without him even being the driver..” I state, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand.
He chuckles, as if to mock the fear for my safety. I shrug it off, looking behind me to see where Luis is.
“Come on- get in the car and I’ll get Luis to do a little video..” I usher, walking away to get Luis.
The entire shoot takes us about an hour before we’re finally done. I quickly bid farewell and thank fellow staff members for their hard work before jumping into my car.
I go to start my car, looking up to see where Luis is. I roll my windows down, letting some fresh air into the car, hoping he’ll be here quickly.
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“No- it’s just annoying because I’m trying to do my job properly and I’m getting the craziest stares. Like, does having a conversation with someone mean we’re married with three kids and a chihuahua?!” I exclaim, looking at Amira on FaceTime.
“And you attended his match, and you wore his name on your shirt and spoke to his family and-"
I cut her off with a loud groan, rubbing my eyes in irritation.
“You’re the one who set me up!”
“I thought you already knew it was his shirt! Should I have worn Jude’s while you wore Trent’s?” She defends herself, a smirk forming on her lips.
I shake my head, dropping my pencil on the table.
I had been studying all day and had stopped the instant Amira called me.
“The way I can’t even get mad at anyone about this- ugh..” I complain, shifting in my chair.
“And those follow requests are so annoying..”
I grumble, totally aware of the fact that I had been complaining about literally every single thing and then some.
“Girl, if you set your account on public again and accept those followers..”
“What? I’m going to clout chase being that douche's fake girlfriend?”
“Obviously?”
“I have to take over my dad’s firm one day, and you want me to be known for dating my coworker?”
“Too late-"
I stop paying attention to what she’s saying when the front door opens, my gaze moving to see my dad walking in.
“I’m going to call you back later.” I mutter to Amira, waving at her until she hangs up.
I close my laptop, standing up to walk over to the door.
“Hey, dad- you’re late.” I say, grabbing his laptop bag off of him.
“I had a lot of work to review. Did you have dinner?” He asks, hanging his coat up on the coat rack.
“I had some of the food auntie Carmen made. You?”
“We all had dinner in the office. Everyone has been going home late these days.” He says, washing his hands in the kitchen sink before loosening his tie.
“With what?” I ask, setting his laptop bag on the table, prying into his business.
“Can’t say, but- don’t you think you need to tell me something?” He suddenly asks, turning to me.
I freeze, looking at him with wide eyes.
What the hell would I be hiding from him?
“Uh- no? I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” I state, scratching my nape in confusion.
“Are you sure?” He presses on, coming to hold onto my shoulders.
“I’m sure. What am I supposed to hide from you?” I ask, getting rather defensive, a frown forming in between my brows as I keep staring at him.
He notices my irritation, letting go of my shoulders and holding his hands up in surrender.
“Okay- I understand. Don’t get all angry at me..” He says, smiling.
“I’m not angry- just confused..”
“Forget I asked- How was work? How about you tell me about that instead?”
I purse my lips, looking down at my laptop.
“Alright, the players got new cars, so we had to do a shoot for BMW..” I mutter, fiddling with my notebook.
“You look so down, y/n. What? Are you jealous? I got you your new Audi less than two years ago..”
“What do you mean, dad? I love that car, would not exchange an Audi for a BMW- I have some car knowledge.” I state, my expression changing as I explain to him.
“That’s right! Come to me when you really want to change your car. I’ll call up some people I know.”
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I make my way towards the printer, looking for the documents I had sent over to be copied a couple hours ago. Finding them, I quickly read them through to confirm the pages are complete, until I’m stopped by Hugo.
“Are you ready for El Classico week?” He asks, making a copy of something.
Most people, as in football fans, would say an El Classico is a match you shouldn’t miss. The long-standing rivalry between the two clubs was always interesting to watch, and I would definitely agree a hundred percent-
Only, if it didn’t mean we had to ensure our match posts, interviews, and statements were properly prepared and triple-checked and approved days leading up to the match.
Of course, I loved watching the game- but the way it exhausted literally everyone involved was no fun.
What made it harder was the fact that we had a whole Champions League match to worry about first. To sum it all up, no one was getting sleep for the next two weeks.
“Yeah, just really busy with preparations.” I reply, folding the corner of the documents.
“Good luck, we’ve all been having sleepless nights. It will be worth it in the end- you’ve experienced this before. Just keep on doing what you always do.”
I nod in acknowledgment, smiling at him.
“You’re right, we will put our best foot forward.” I give him a thumbs up, chuckling.
“Good- I’ll see you at lunch. Work hard!” He encourages, patting my shoulder before leaving with his printed papers.
I sigh in relief when he leaves, making my way up to my desk. I place the documents on the table, before running down to the pitch. Having to finish some last-minute recording of the match preparations.
I walk over to the pitch, training is already in full motion, and I notice Luis already there. I look around for any other staff members, only seeing the creepy guy I ran into weeks ago standing across the pitch.
The guy was a walking, real-life jumpscare at this point. I’d only run into him at random moments, and the way he’d look at me had my heart leaping into my throat.
“You’re late.” Luis complains, bringing me out of my thoughts, fiddling with a black cable.
“Did those two minutes kill you?” I ask, sighing, and look at the players who were training.
“Of boredom, yes..” He replies, and I notice the small- very slight compliment in his words. A smile forming on my face as I chuckle.
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“We would’ve been absolutely fucked if Kepa didn’t save that one..” I mutter, insanely stressed, as I eye the scoreboard in the Lluís Companys Olympic Stadium. A temporary stadium FC Barcelona had been using for this season.
“Don’t say that- you have no trust in this team whatsoever..” Luis complains, looking up at me.
“Who will score?” I ask, we loved guessing who would score and assist goals during every match.
“Jude.” He immediately says, not hesitating one bit.
“No- I’m guessing Vinicius..” I say, eyes darting back to my laptop screen.
“I will be right- just watch..”
“It’s his second El Classico and his first in season one. What is he going-” I immediately stop talking when I notice a chance to score, my hands tangle into my shirt as I see how much space there is to score.
I gasp, and my jaw slacks open when Jude scores an absolute screamer, which I’d obviously never admit to him.
“I told you!” Luis screams, celebrating like it’s his birthday. I scoff, secretly happy we were put out of our 0-1 misery, and search for the draft I’m supposed to publish.
A couple minutes pass, it’s almost full time, and extra time is finally announced. The away side is full of Madridistas, all sitting on the edge of their seats until Luca kicks the ball towards Jude and GOAL!
The away side celebrates happily, with another El Classico win in our pocket. I quickly manage and do what I have to do, before we both get up to go back inside.
I was both delighted and annoyed at the fact that we won. Of course, it’s always amazing to win a match like this, especially when we were doing so well this season. Also because it’s Luca’s 500th match, and an assist is pretty amazing to pull off on a day like this.
The only thing making me have bitter feelings was the fact that I had to interview Jude today. Normally, Man Of The Match interviews with him were already horrific to experience. An elaborate interview with him, after I’d been avoiding him like the plague, wasn’t necessarily something I would want to do.
“Can you go first? I’ve got to pee really badly..” I say to Luis, placing my bag down and running towards the restroom. Finishing my business up quickly and washing my hands thoroughly.
I look around me for a bit, knowing that sometimes players would use these restrooms as well. I had heard about instances where the players of the opposite team had raged against our team’s staff members. Which definitely had me watching my back in moments like these.
I had interacted with some players of FC Barcelona, and they hadn’t been disrespectful so far.
Thus, I’m not too fazed when the door to the restroom opens. I look up as a sweaty and tired Ferran Tores walks in.
We make immediate eye contact, and I nod in greeting, shooting him a quick ‘hello' before pulling some paper towels from the dispenser to dry my hands.
He seems to be seething in anger, so I break eye contact, looking away.
“This is a staff bathroom, are you aware of that?”
He suddenly says, water splashing from the faucet as he begins washing his face.
“Sorry?” I question, wondering what he’s getting at.
“Not for girlfriends.” He mutters, turning the faucet off.
My face twists into one of confusion, the words throwing me for a loop. Seems like he notices, and he opens his mouth again.
“You’re Bellingham’s girl, aren’t you? This is the staff restroom.” He enunciates every single word as if I’m a kindergartner, it makes me freeze for a second.
I struggle to stop myself from reacting thoughtlessly, not knowing if I should be crying or laughing.
My hand reaches for my staff badge hanging from my neck, waving it in front of his face.
“Do I look like a girlfriend?” I ask, dropping my badge and stepping out before he can apologize.
Asshole, losing doesn’t give you the right to be so damn rude.
How could I even get rid of these stupid fucking rumors?
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“Okay, smile!” I exclaim, holding Luis’s camera up to take a photo of the squad. With the happiness of winning an El Classico and the celebration of Luca's milestone came a lot of excitement and enthusiasm.
I hold back a chuckle at the sight of Aurélien laying on the floor, instructing some of them to move a bit for a better shot.
We take multiple photos together, staff members taking photos with the squad while I force them to stand in front of the camera.
“y/n, come here, and we’ll take a picture!” Antonio urges, snatching the camera off of me and pushing me to stand in front of the camera.
I feel myself being pushed, until I find myself almost pressing into Jude’s side.
I curse to myself, forcing an awkward smile as I pose next to everyone.
“What? Surely, you don’t think I bite?” Jude whispers, his arm dropping to his side.
“Please, shut up and pose. We still have that interview, so don’t start now..” I mutter between a clenched smile, pretending I’m not fazed.
I hear a soft chuckle, a mocking and breathy ‘sure’ leaving his mouth.
It gives me shivers down my spine, and I fight the urge to step on his shoe, focusing on posing instead.
This will be a long, long interview..
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“You should’ve told me you’re leaving.” I mumble, mouth full of cereal and milk.
“Sorry, been so busy, didn’t even come to mind.” My dad says, walking around the house as he gets ready for work.
“Where is that blue tie I just got?” He shouts from his room.
“I ironed it! It’s in the bottom drawer!” I shout, scrolling through my messages.
“Got it!”
I hum, chugging the leftover milk in my bowl before standing up from the dining table.
“When are you going? Will you be gone for long?” I ask, watching him put the tie on in his bedroom.
“This weekend. It’s a crucial case, so I’ll be back when it’s totally over. Don’t get up to mischief. I know how you get when you’re home alone.” He points, giving me a stern look.
“Yeah, sure, I will plan a house party or two..” I joke, but it doesn’t land as he continues staring me down.
“Okay! I will be a responsible adult and call you or auntie Carmen when something happens..”
“Good, I’m leaving to get to work. Will you be back on time for dinner?” He says, grabbing his paperwork and laptop bag.
“Yeah, can we order in tonight?” I give him a pleading look, walking him out.
“You know I can’t deny my daughter happiness in the form of burgers and fries...”
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cmncisspnandmore · 17 hours
Text
One Night Stand: Part 8
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader
Warnings: Preterm babies? mentions of medical things.
Word Count: 2k
New to the series? Catch up here: 7
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Getting into the wheelchair was the most humbling thing you had ever done in your life. You had really taken for granted how easy walking around when you were pregnant was. Now as the nurse and Simon held onto your arms and helped you into the wheelchair as you gasped in pain, your entire body shook with the effort. As they carefully lowered you into the wheelchair, you caught a glance of Simon's face. His face was slightly pale, his eyes worried as he watched you. 
He looked like he was the one who could pass out at any moment, not you. “There we go, you alright?” the bubbly red headed nurse asks. She straightens up after she puts the foot rests down, her badge clip clinking together. Kelsey, her name was Kelsey.
“Yeah, i didn't expect it to feel like that…” You mumble, and she gives you a soft smile.
“Kinda like your organs are just gonna fall right out of you?” She smiles, and you can't help but laugh. 
“Yeah, pretty much. It wasn't painful, just really uncomfortable… But I'm okay.” 
“You sure?” Simon's voice is rough, his brow still pinched as he listens to the conversation between you and Kelsey.
“I’m fine Si, I promise.”
He doesn't reply, he just gives you another once over before stepping out of the way so Kelsey can wheel you out of the room. The hallways were long and white, a few vitals carts hanging around. Nurses passed every few moments as they went about their days. A few pressed themselves against the wall as Simon walked by. His large form takes up most of the hallway. He was the poster of intimidating, all muscle and an impassive face to match. 
As we reach the end of the hall our nurse Kelsey waves her badge in front of a sensor that controls the large windowless doors in front of us. As the door slowly open the soft hum of white noise and beeping monitors fill your ears. 
“This is the NICU, its where we keep my personal favorite patients,” kelsey smiles as she pushes me through the doors. There's a typical nurses station in front of us, but instead of the regular hospital rooms that you see in the rest of the building. There are two long walls with large glass windows that allow you to look into two rooms with 3 rows of incubators. Each room housed 9 of them, not all of them were full. Some were just waiting to be occupied. A few sets of parents stand around them, wearing pink overgowns, as they reach their hands into the incubators to touch their babies. 
Kelsey disappears for a moment and comes back wearing her own overgown and hands one to simon. “You have to wear these, its to prevent germs from your clothes getting on the babies. It just helps us keep them safe. We also need you to use hand sanitizer before you enter and when you're done. It's important we do everything to keep them safe.” she explains as she helps you put yours on. You look over your shoulder as Simon attempts to put on the overgown, its stretched tightly over his arms and chest. His larger than average form filling up most of the pink overgown. A small snicker leaves your lips as you take him in with the pink gown. He’s usually dressed in all black or dark colors. To see him wearing something so bright was actually funny to you. 
You never thought you’d see the day Simon Riley wore pink, but here he was, stuffed into a too small overgown, small frown on his lips. You can’t help the small smile that plays on your lips despite the nerves you were feeling growing inside you. What if you couldnt handle seeing your baby like that? Would they look okay? Would they even look like a baby?
You had no idea what to expect, your stomach was turning as Kelsey gave you some hand sanitizer. After you and Simon rubbed it in, she wheeled you into the room, it was warmer in here than in the hallway. The constant hum of the machinery louder, as she pushed you towards the last incubator on the left. It was a large plastic box, with 4 little circle windows, a soft yellow glow emitting from a light on top. As you get closer you can see some of the stuff inside A soft pink blanket, and the smallest baby you have ever seen. They wore a hat so small you weren't sure if it was even possible for them to call it a baby's hat. It seemed more fit for a doll. 
Your daughter laid in the center of the incubator, an array of tubes and wires connected to her too small body. Her eyes were covered with gauze, and she had a mask over her nose, and a thin white tube coming from her mouth. She was mostly still, the only occasional movement was her arms or legs moving in a sort of jerking movement. Her diapers were too big for her, even in the Nano- Preemie size they had on her. 
“Shes… shes so small..” you whisper, your hand coming to rest against the warm plastic of the incubator. 
“She is, but she's been doing really well. She’s been stable since we put her on the oxygen and she hasn't shown any signs of distress since. I think she's got a real chance.” Kelsey smiles as she looks between you and Simon. 
“If you want you can reach in through the little windows, just try not jostle any of the wires,” she smiles, as she walks over to another family standing around an incubator. 
Simon stands behind the wheelchair, his hands coming to rest on your shoulder. He's quiet for a few moments, the warmth of his large hands seeping into the fabric of the hospital gown. You shove down the emotions that are bubbling up inside of you, taking a deep breath you lean forward in the wheelchair. A dull ache pulling at your lower stomach as you carefully move yourself towards the edge. Your hand shakes a little as you reach your hand up and through the small open window. You hesitate, your hand hovering over your daughter's tiny frame. The only place where she didn't have monitors and iv’s was her small hand. It was no bigger than your thumb nail. Barely big enough for the tip of your finger to fit in, taking a deep breath you gently touch her tiny hand with the tip of your finger. 
Reflexively she grabs onto your fingertip, her tiny fingers gripping the tip of your finger. Emotion clogs your throat, but it's not you who makes a sound, instead it's Simon. It was quiet, and if you hadn't become accustomed to him over the past few months you never would’ve mistaken his sharp intake as annoyance. But you knew better, it was him trying to keep himself together. You glance over your shoulder and notice his brown eyes are glassy. A single tear falling down his cheek and dripping onto the pink overgown. 
“Simon…” you whisper, reaching your other hand up to rest on his hand that is still firmly in place on your shoulder. 
“Sorry..” he mumbles, wiping his hand across his eyes, before he clears his throat. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” You smile softly at him, “Come over here.” 
Simon hesitates, but moves a little closer, coming to stand on the side of the wheelchair, you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. His entire body was stiff, every movement seemed almost painfully slow. 
You pull your hand out of the incubator and grab Simon's much larger hand, “It's okay, you won't hurt her.”
Simon's brown eyes searched your face, looking for any signs that it was a bad idea, he was so much larger than her, even you. His hands weren't the gentlest, and they had done terrible things for many years. How could he possibly touch something so small, something so innocent. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as you gently guided his hand into the incubator. As his index finger touched her small hand she grabbed it just like she had yours. 
“See? You didn't hurt her,” you smile, leaning your head against his upper arm. You hated to admit it but even this small venture had you drained. The events of the past 24 hours are catching up to you fast. Your body was starting to hurt, and sitting was uncomfortable but you didn't want to leave.
How could you?
The image of Simon standing in front of the incubator was something you wanted burnt into your brain for the rest of your life. His hand, which was larger than your daughter's entire body, hovering over her as her hand gripped his finger. After a few moments, Simon pulled his hand out and looked down at you. His brow slightly furrowed as he took in your expression. 
“Are you okay?” He asks, his fingers catching the side of your chin and tipping it up so he could see your face better. 
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you force a small smile, but Simon sees right through you. 
“Don’t lie to me, you just had major surgery,” he grunts softly, his hand sliding to rest against your cheek. You instinctively lean into him, his palm warm and comforting. 
“I’m just tired, and a little sore, but I don't want to leave her…” You whisper, your eyes falling shut. You were more than just a little sore, whatever pain meds they had given you were definitely wearing off. You could feel the incision now, it was a dull constant ache. But the headache that was starting to form behind your eyes was worse. It was like someone was taking an ice pick to the space behind your eyes. 
“You need rest,” Simon frowns, his brown eyes trailing across your face, “we’ll come back later okay?” 
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and give a small nod. As much as you didn't want to leave you knew it was best that you got some rest. You weren't any good to anyone if you didn't heal. But it didn't stop the nagging feeling in your chest when Simon carefully pushed the wheelchair out of the room. 
Once you're in the hallway Simon helps you take the overgown off, he throws the light pink objects in the trash and turns back to you.
“Ready?” He asks, “You can go take a nap and we can come back okay?”
Would they let you?
Did they have visiting hours here?
God why hadn't you researched the hospitals sooner?
What if something happened while you were resting?
What if she stopped breathing?
What if she died....
She was so small, so fragile, so breakable. 
And it was all your fault. You couldn't do the one thing you were supposed to. You were supposed to keep her safe until she was strong enough. Your body was supposed to nourish her and carry her until she was bigger. She was too little. Who would protect her now that you, the person who's supposed to, couldn't.
“Hey,” Simon's thumb sweeps under your eye, “why are you crying?”
“It’s my fault…” You sob, tears falling rapidly now. “This is all my fault.”
“Love..” Simon whispers, now kneeling on the floor in front of the wheelchair. One hand resting on your knee the other on your cheek as he wipes away the flood of tears. 
“None of this was your fault,” he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to his. “None of it okay? You didn't do anything to cause this. It wasn't something we could have stopped okay? No one is blaming you, and I know that she won't either. Whatever happens, we’ll get through this okay? We’ll get through it together.”
“Okay…” You managed to breathe out but the tears didn't stop, and neither did the guilt eating a hole in your chest.
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Next Part:
Taglist: @coffeeandtealol, @natashamea18, @itsmytimetoodream @humanities-cutest @ajrfanz @jggykhug09090 @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @ashreblogsnow @liwooa
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urfavlarry · 2 days
Note
HEYYY HRUUUUU AGAIN!!! It's me k4nma_shi, I had to deactivate my old account bc it wasn't working properly. BUT IM HERE AGAIN!!!
May I have a Logan x fem reader request ? if you don't mind. And can it be where Logan and you met up after being in the phych ward in the phantom dimension?
My baby deserves attention 🫶
THANK U MOOKA, HAVE A GREAT DAYYYYY ❤
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Reunited
Logan Fields x reader
warnings: swearing, bad grammar
A/N: HEY GIRLL WELCOME BACKKK
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🌟 ɞ˚‧。⋆
You walked through the halls of the weird building. It reminded you of a maze, everything looking the same and you feel like you saw the same door like 50 times already! You were trying to find the other, opening every door you could, most of them being empty. You grip your flashlight, your whole body tense and alert. You knew there was a small chance that there were phantoms inside the building, but you couldn’t shake off the paranoia from when the giant centipede looking monster chased you inside the school. You hear footsteps from somewhere in front of you, but not just one pair, but two. You hide behind a corner, grabbing your pocket knife and try to be as quiet as possible. You hear the footsteps getting closer when you feel them walking right next to you. You jump the person but immadietly stop when you see a surprised Ashlyn and a ready to attack Taylor in front of you. “Jesus.. You guys scared me.” Taylor looks at you with a “really?” face like you didn’t just jump them but shrugs it off. You help Ashlyn up, taking her hand and pull her up.
You hug the both of them, practically squeezing them into mush. You smile at them and ask about the plan. Ashlyn shrugs, explaining that you should find the others first before coming up with a plan. You nod and follow them, keeping an eye on the back so nothing sneaks up on you three. You go to what feels like the 100th floor of this labyrinth and open the first door you see, a very, very trashed room behind it. It looked like the room you stayed in, so you grab your pocket knife just in case anything jumps you.
“Hello?.. Aiden? .. Logan? ..Guys??” You hear rustling in the bathroom and out comes a.. face painted Aiden?? You burst out laughing along with Tayloe, Ashlyn just having a “what the fuck” expression on her face. “Okay.. Aiden what the hell?” She says and Aiden just smiles proudly; “What? I was bored! I have all the board games and face paint I could ever have!” He says and Ashlyn face palms; “So in stead of asking for some useful things that could help us ESCAPE, you asked for.. games? Okay if we need bait, Aidens it.” Ashlyn says and leaves the room, going to search for others. You stop laughing and smile at Aiden. “Hey are you coming with us? Or is your head injury still bothering you?” You ask and he shrugs; “I’ll come with.” He gets up energetically and dashes out of the room towards the direction Ashlyn went. “Wow that boy really needs to leave some energy for the poor.” Taylor jokes and you chuckle, following the two love birds.
You finally gather almost everyone, except Logan. You start to panic a bit. What if something happened to him? You shake off the thoughts, trying to think positively. “Logans brave.. He can take care of himself, no need to panic.” You think to yourself and open a door, and see that it’s the one where all of you stayed in. You enter it, the others staying in front of the room, looking out for phantoms. Well there weren’t any phantoms in the building but that’s paranoia for ya.
You finally see the oh so familiar pair of blue eyes you so so love. You smile, running towards him and he pulls you into an embrace, spinning you around. “Hey bunny, you’re okay..” He whispers and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You smile, rubbing his back. You pull away and he holds your hand, intertwining your fingers. Everyone leaves the room, you and Logan walking hand in hand, looking out for each other. You finally gather everyone in Tylers room, deciding to get some rest and not search for anything today. You huddle up in a corner, pulling your knees to your chest. Logan sits down next to you, putting an arm around your shoulder, making you rest your head on his shoulder. He whispers sweet nothings in to your ear, your stomach erupting with butterflies. “Logan?” You look up and he look at you with a smile, “Hm?” He hums and you smile at him. “I’m glad you’re okay.. I couldn’t imagine loosing you..” You start; “Don’t let those assholes force you into anything and if anything does happen, just know we won’t be mad and we will be here for you.” You say and he nods, sighing. “I’ll be alright, just take care of yourself yeah?” He kisses your forehead and rests his head against yours. You relax your shoulders and listen to him as he starts to talk to you about astrology. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm even during such a horrific and terrifying situation. You look at him, seeing his smile while talking about something he is truly fascinated by. Only one thing came to mind as you saw the boy in front of you. What a beautiful boy.
。 ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ 。
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🌟 ɞ˚‧。⋆
54 notes · View notes
liveontelevision · 3 hours
Text
Suffer Pt. 3
Suffer Part 3 is here! I'm planning on having at least two more parts, I was not expecting this to become a whole thing but :') I gotta see it through now lol
When I say I love slowburn fics, I mean it dammit.
Disclaimer: This is my personal interpretation of the characters from Hazbin Hotel. I respect the canon storyline and characters, but this fic will stray from it a decent amount.
Check out Part one and Part two :)
♡ ♡ ♡
Holding a small, sleeping Charlie close to your chest, you swayed her back and forth. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you danced around the familiar nursery, humming the same tune you've used to calm her down for years. She was asleep. Safe and oblivious to any of the chaos around her. You envied her. With one final spin, you let your eyes open. Your arms were empty. She was gone. The comfortable weight of her tiny figure instantly went away. You panicked, the room you were in was shifted into something unfamiliar and uneasy. A source of light finally drew your eyes. A distant doorframe provides light, casting the silhouette of a tall, curvy woman. Her eyes were glowing.
“L-Lillith?” There were sounds of a baby crying out and the intimidating figure became far away, ceasing any light and drowning you in a darkness that you've felt before. Long ago.
A heavy knocking at your door forced you awake. As you sat up you went to wipe the sleep from your eyes, only now noticing the tears streaming from your face. Just a dream… The knock was louder and quicker this time, forcing a response out of you. “Gimme a minute! Fuck -” You roll out of your bed, going to turn off the radio on your nightstand. Having the radio on throughout the night was something Alastor suggested, obviously, after you confided in him about having a series of nightmares. His show is broadcast while you sleep, and when it isn’t, the radio static actually acts as a soothing white noise. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it kept you from going insane in the least.
You finally approached the door, your body still wrapped in your large blanket that trailed across the floor. A cheerful, as always, Charlie stood at the door. She was quick to say good morning, but went straight to the point without letting you respond. She clearly practiced this.
“So! I know my dad's visit a few weeks ago was a liiittle… Tense? But - uh, I was wondering if you two talked yet..? By chance?” She spoke like she would be scolded for saying the wrong thing. You shook your head, still slowly blinking awake. 
“Well - okay! I was just asking because he.. keeps.. asking about you…” she held her phone out to you, letting you scroll through some of the messages he’s been sending her. You chuckle at first, he can't text for shit. But she was right. Ever since you blew him off that day, he's been asking Charlie how you've been and what you've been up to.
“I mean, I love my dad and it's awesome he's finally talking to me again, but - I don't know, if it's not too much to ask, could you maybe just.. talk to him?” Charlie rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, and her words broke your heart a little. It's cruel of him to try and reach out to you that way, put Charlie through that distress, but maybe you could've handled your last encounter with more care.
How could you say no to her?
“Yeah, i’ll talk to him, Charlie. Don't worry.” A yawn interrupted your sentence, but you still sent her a reassuring smile as she finally relaxed her shoulders.
“That’s great! I’ll just give him your number!” She planned outloud, turning away to head down the hall.
“Charlie- “ You called out, “He loves you, you know that, right? Don’t forget that.” Charlie’s smile drooped for a second, then quickly picked back up. She nodded as she left your view.
With a yawn, your body still not registering that you were awake or what you had agreed to, you went to shut your door. It didn't click like it usually does, so you turned to see the blockage - Alastor. He'd stuck his foot in the door to prevent it from closing entirely.
“Good morning, my dear!” his voice was booming, as he threw his arms out in a dramatic flare, your door swinging open.
Nope, you were too tired for this.
“Fuck, Al, can't this wait ‘til I'm at least dressed?” You tossed your blanket aside, rummaging through your drawers to cover the little silky tank top and pajama shorts you had borrowed from Angel during your first nights at the hotel. Maybe it was your sleep depravity, or just the fact that Alastor has made it a habit to be extra kind to you since you arrived, but you didn't mind him seeing you in sleepwear. He had no ill intent, as far as you knew.
“Unfortunately, it cannot! I heard you're going on a little outing with the king! How exciting~” He hummed, sitting at the edge of your bed as you cover yourself with your sweater. You plop down next to him, still wiping your eyes. He reached out, swiping his thumb across the apple of your cheek. Looking down at his hand, swiping your tears across his fingers, he met your suddenly embarrassed gaze.
“Another rough night, dear?” You weren't sure how he knew that's what that was from, but you nodded anyway.
“Just another nightmare, it's fine. They're always about Charlie and - the mistakes I made when I was taking care of her.. I guess it still kind of bugs me.” He let out a pitied hum, as he stood to turn your radio back on. He tuned it to some old timey jazz music before resting his hands behind his back. You didn't know it could play music..
“Well, it seems that meeting with that royal menace may not be the wisest choice. Wouldn't you agree?” You looked down before letting a sigh slip from your tired lips.
“It's fine, I can handle myself. Besides, he keeps bugging Charlie and I - I feel like I owe her..”
you shake your head, standing to your feet and beckoning Alastor out of your room.
“It's fine! It's just a quick visit, I won't be gone long.” He took your hand give it a quick kiss, a reassuring smile on his face.
“Well, if he does anything to hurt you, love -” love? “- I'll be right there to help.” He emphasized the end of his sentence with a quick tap on your nose before leaving your room. The music faded back into static as soon as he left.
You heard stories about their fight, plus you could hear their aggressive duet from your room that day, but you believed him either way. You had no doubt he could swoop in and save the day if you needed it. You wondered why people seemed so wary around him. He was a perfect gentleman to you, even with all the warnings you've gotten from Husk and Vaggie.
He had you wrapped around his finger.
You didn't think you would stress about what to wear. You hadn't even made plans yet, but all of sudden, you worried about what he would think of your clothes if he saw you. Charlie sent you his number, so it was on you to reach out. You ignored it for now. You’d ignore it forever if it would keep these feelings from resurfacing. Finally deciding on an outfit, just a black turtleneck that left your arms bare and a skirt that hugged your curves in a lovely way. Even if it probably wasn't the easiest skirt to bend over in, you decided it would do.
A lot of your clothes were hand me downs or were lent to you by either Angel, Vaggie or Charlie. None of it was truly your size, but you had no problem adding in some extra panels or cutting things to your liking. The sweater you grabbed previously was actually gifted to you by Alastor. You had no idea why he would give it to you, a simply red cardigan with a soft knit, but it quickly became your favorite accessory. Pulling up the collar, you buried your nose into the knitting, taking a soft breath in. It always smelled of whiskey and honey, no matter how often you washed it.
You went through your day like normal, followed along with some exercises Charlie was running and taking a quick trip to Cannibal Town with Alastor, something you did every now and then. It started off with him accompanying you to the bakery, where you would occasionally lend a hand, then he would split off to spend the afternoon with Rosie. As time went on, he would ask you to join him.. It was intimidating at first, but Rosie was nothing but a sweetheart, you had no problem fitting in with the two.
when you returned to the hotel, you finally mustered the courage to call Lucifer. With a quick pep-talk to yourself, you held your breath before bringing the phone to your ear. He picked up immediately.
“Hell- Erm.. uhh.. Shit, how do I -” Did he realize he answered the call?
“Helloo? Lucifer here - speaking! Who-who’s this..?” He knew who it was. You assumed this was just him trying to be casual. He wasn't very good at it.
“Lucifer - It’s me.. can we talk?” You were gripping the end of your sleeve nervously with your free hand.
“Yes! Yes, of course! When are you free? We can.. figure something out, right?” You could hear him tripping over himself, kicking things around, and something that sounded like a squeaky-toy being stepped on? His excitement made you giggle. Even with pulling your phone away to try and prevent your laughter coming through, he was losing his mind on the other end of the call. It felt like a nostalgic punch to the gut. He didn't realize how much he missed your laughter until now.
“I guess i’m free whenever.. Charlie doesn't like doing exercises on the weekend, so -” A breeze hit your face, blowing all your hair past your shoulders. Looking to the source, a golden edged portal had opened right in the middle of the hallway. A fidgeting Lucifer was standing with his hands behind his back, a nervous but excited looking grin across his face. You looked down to your phone, seeing the call was still going, then spotted his phone sitting on a table behind him. You let out the smallest huff, before hanging up and tucking your phone away.
“Missed me?” He said suavly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. God, you did. You couldn't admit that though. Your anger, guilt and nerves overshadowed any joy that he may have brought under different circumstances.
“Yeah, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to step towards the portal. He reached his hand out to you, and he noticed you hesitating. “it’s uh- it’s a little bit of a drop if you step through the - um.. just.. wanted to -” you took his hand that he almost retracted, and carefully stepped over the border of the portal. You tried to keep your mind from noticing how your hand perfectly fit in his.
Static filled your core as you left the hotel, but before you could turn and see if Alastor was nearby, the portal had shut and the static ceased.
If he does anything to hurt you, I'll be right there.
Alastor's words rung through your head one last time. You finally met Lucifer eyes after literal decades.
“Um.. Tea?” Lucifer was fiddling with his ring again. Years ago, it was something you noticed he did whenever he was nervous. You nodded and watched as he conjured up everything needed to brew hot tea.
“What, you don't use any of the servants for that? Not even some angelic magic?” Small talk felt like it could make this moment less awkward. As he poured the already heated water into two teacups, he simply shook his head.
“Angelic power is great and all, but nothin’ beats fresh tea.” His smile was so sweet. You nervously balled up the sleeve of your sweater into your hand and brought it to your nose, breathing in the same sent that always seemed to calm you.
“And.. I- ahem.. I ended up finding other places for most of the staff after..” he said it quietly, unable to call attention to his missing spouse. Definitely a touchy subject for both of you. You finally looked around, realizing you recognized the tea room. It was small, but was walled in entirely with windows. It had a great view of the little garden that used to be brimming with difigured, yet beautiful, greenery. You took another look around the room, the nostalgia wearing off, taking in the dust and trash that was collected in the corners. The garden had died off as well. It wasn't completely unslightly, but the mess didn't make sense for a royal manor.
His words finally hit you.
“Found other places? What does that even mean?” You could feel your blood boil, watching him place the tea bags in each cup. You calmed for a moment, seeing that his hands were shaking.
“I just found places for them to work, is all. Sent the stylists to that Velvette girl in Pentagram City, some of the cooks went down to the Glutton Ring, ya know. Stuff like that. I wanted them to be taken care of.” He passed the cup to you, then pulled out one of the two chairs at the small table sitting in the center of the room.
“I just wanted to take care of them..since, I-I couldn't do that for you..” His voice was low, and when you attempted to look at his face he would sip from his cup or turn away. Don't be worried about him. He doesn’t deserve that.  It was all so long ago, it doesn't matter. Remember why you're here. 
“Good for them. Now, I'm here because you're bugging Charlie. Stop asking about me idiot, she's gonna think something’s wrong.” You placed your half empty cup down. He choked on his drink at your words, not realizing that you had seen the poorly written texts that he was sending to Charlie.
“And nothing is wrong. Right?” Lucifer scratched the back of his neck nervously, then opened his mouth as if to say something. He didn't. He simply nodded at first. 
“Y-Yup, right.. Everything's fine. l'll stop asking about you.” You went to stand, brushing the wrinkles from your skirt off as you did. That's that. You came here to get Lucifer to stop bugging Charlie and that's what you did. There's no other reason for you to  -
“Wait, please..!” His hand took a hold of yours, as he almost stumbled out of his chair to keep you from walking off. “I just want to say - “
“ - no you don't have to. It was a long time ago. Everyone makes mistakes, right?” You tried your best to keep your cool, but clearly it wasn't working. He winced at your words, releasing his hold on you.
“I have no excuse. I can't make it all go away, I still feel - “ he clasped his hand to his chest, struggling to figure out what he's trying to say.
“I'm sorry. I don't need you to forgive me, but please know, that I am sorry.” The room went silent, with your back towards him, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your own heart. Lucifer didn't know what to do, until the silence was broken by a pathetic little sniffle.
Dammit, not again. Don't let him get to you. Keep your walls up.
He quickly approaches you, his hands hovering over your shoulder, as if you’d shatter if he touched you.
“Nono, please, I -uhh.. I'll leave Charlie alone! I'll stop talking to you, I'll leave you alone if -”
With a quick turn, finally faced him. Letting out a breath you'd been holding in for far too long, you rush towards him with the intent to meet him with a long overdue embrace. The sudden leap left him staggering backwards, tripping over nothing and bringing both of you to the floor. “Don't you dare! H-How could you.. why would think that's what I want..?” Your words were muffled into his shoulder, since he had placed a hand over your head to protect you from the fall. Not even acknowledging that you were suddenly sitting on the floor between his legs, he finally managed to process your words. It took him a moment to even try and reciprocate the hug. He hadn’t been touched like this for years, it nearly overwhelmed his senses.
“ I want to know what happened that night! I want to know how you feel, or I guess felt, about me.. I dont care if it hurts, please tell me the truth..” all of the questions you've been asking yourself for years suddenly spilled out.
You felt absolutely pathetic, relying on him to tell you everything okay. But fuck, you needed this. Even if you never talk to him again after this, you needed some kind of closure.
“Woah- that's uh.. that's alot to drop on guy.. Uhm…” It wasn't like he didn't want to admit what he was feeling. With the relationship he had with Lillith, he had just become accustomed to not talking about himself much. That being said, with one look Into your teary eyes, he was all yours. He carefully took your hands from around his waist and held them in his own. He gently traced his thumbs along the top of your hands, letting you calm down before he went on.
“I.. I think about you all the time, I always have. I don't know what I would've done differently that night, but I'd do anything to take it back. To fix it..” The sweet smile on his face barely made his words sound better.
“I don't understand, Lucifer.” Your voice was quiet, and cracked a bit when his name passed your lips. You saw him jolt slightly, hearing his own name through your sweet, yet saddened voice.
“Well, I guess..Li-Lillith and I-” You both winced at the mention of her name. “- we weren't what everyone expected of us. And you were one of the only demons to know that. She- ugh.. I don’t know she left without a word, without a note - I have no idea where she went.” You felt like you were getting let in on a secret that he had been keeping for years. And maybe that's exactly what was happening. Your face went pale, your head swaying slightly, Lucifer took a hold of your arms and helped you stand, guided you back to your seat.
“It's not because of me, is it?” You said quietly, as if Lillith was just around the corner, ready to scold the two of you. Again.
“No! No, geez, if it has anything to do with you, then I'm to blame. Don't worry.” He still smiled at you, his face becoming strained after grinning for so long, then placed a hand over yours.
“Don't worry? Yeah! That shouldn't be too hard.. you idiot.” You rolled your eyes, but didn't pull away at his touch.
“I'll get straight to the point then, if you think I'm such a clown -” you couldn't help but grin at his self deprecating humor, and he's so relieved to see your smile.
“With you being in Charlie's life again, I'd like to.. I don't know, clear the air? Try and patch things up..?” You went to deject the idea, but he went on before you could.
“I know it won't be easy, and it's okay if it doesn't work out. But we all used to have so much fun together.. I think right now, it could be good for Charlie, and me, to have someone like you around.. I want you back in my life.” His little spiel seemed scripted up until that last part. Your heart throbbed. You were known to always decline help from people, avoid handouts, but the rush you felt hearing Lucifer say he needs you, you were almost swooning.
“Besides, we've both grown up! Moved on-  Right? I have all of Hell to keep an eye on, and you've got your little boyfriend back at the hotel so -” You wasted no time in correcting him. The idea of him thinking you had moved on with another demon made you panic for some reason you would never admit to. Why did he think you had a boyfriend? Who would - 
“Al?? Oh no, it's not like that, I swear. He's just been a good friend to me since I went to the hotel, is all.” 
“Al, huh?” He grumbled, leaning back in his seat ans crossing his arms over his chest. The warmth he left on your hand was immediately missed.
“Alastor, you know. The.. um.. You met him.” You held the sleeve of your sweater to your nose again, allowing the sweet air into your lungs. Fuck, he couldnt take his eyes off of you. He never wanted to take his eyes off of you, again. You just looked so pure in your little sweater.
But, that sweater.. something seemed off about it to Lucifer. He could feel some strange energy emitting off of it. It didn't come off as dangerous, but it definitely left him feeling uneasy. Like a headache that's just barely there, suffocating his thoughts. He's felt that before. It clouded his actions and judgements during his fight with-
“Hey, uh.. Be careful around that deer guy, will you? He seems pretty intimidating. Not to me, of course, but you know. Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” You leaned forward, with your elbows on the table, propping your chin up. “Are you jealous?”
“Wha-What?? Of course not, I'm the king of Hell, I obviously trump him in every aspect.” There it was. There was that cocky, little bundle of nerves you used to know all those years ago. Everything finally hit you with the lost time, seeing that side of him.
“Lucifer, I missed so much. I wanted to be there for her, for Charlie.. I know I was just a babysitter, but there was so much more I wanted to do, so many things I wish I could've seen with her. With you, too.” You placed your hand overtop of his, just as he did to you earlier. He obviously wasn't expecting the reciprocation, flinching slightly at your touch.
“I guess I get what you're saying.. about taking that day back? That maybe if I didnt attack you the way I did, that I could be there longer. But… I was in love, Lucifer.” He stifled any giggles at the idea that you considered that kiss an attack, but nothing mattered after what you had said. He immediately flushed in the face at your words.
“In love..?” He barely whispered the words, his eyes sparkling. He felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, a familiar one, but still one that he hadn't felt in years.
“Yeah.. hm, it would've happened sooner or later, I think. I think I would've done it at some later point, if it didnt happen then.. I guess I'm just glad I left before Charlie could remember me. It all worked out, so - I guess what i’m saying is - we can try. Let's try being friends, again.”
What a bittersweet resolution.
“Okay. I'd like that.” He was fighting off any unwanted feelings. Burying any ideas to just profess that he felt the same way, and that he still does. That he wants to pick back up right where you left off. That he barely kept the longing, of feeling your lips against his, at bay. No matter how hard that was, things were looking up. Don’t blow it, Lucifer.
You chatted for a little while longer. You told him about your struggles after you were fired, all your interactions in Cannibal Town, the good and bad, then your eventual arrival at the hotel. The conversation lightened a bit, as you told stories about Charlie, giving him a much needed update on how she was doing when she wasn't stressing about a visit from him. You went on, talking about the other residents that he didnt have a chance to interact with last time. Obviously, that part of the conversation went into heavy detail about Alastor and all his little gifts and kindness.
Before you noticed, Lucifer held the edges of his chair, his hands gripping tightly into the metal at every little sigh or giggle you'd make in reference to something Alastor did. He'd dismiss it as jealousy for now. But that didn't stop him from rerunning that one moment in his mind. The moment where he was holding you. Touching the small of your back, just like how he used to.
The way you stood so close to him, that he could wrap his slender arm completely around your waist, and the confidence in your dismissal of Luficer's general presence. It was commendable, no matter the subject, he loved seeing your more confident side. Your words still hurt. The topic eventually came up.
“Oh god, Lucifer! I'm so sorry, I almost forgot about that.. I didnt mean anything, that was completely rude of me to treat you like that. I felt something come over me, seeing your face again, I just - I don't know, it was probably just some repressed rage? I'm sorry.” He quickly waved his hands, offering you reassurance in your actions, admitting that he felt he deserved it after everything.
“Don't say that, I was out of line. What you did to me doesn't excuse my actions.” You admitted. Was forgiveness possible in this situation? He had pushed the possibility so far down in his mind that a mutual respect seemed like an unachievable goal. And any reciprocated feelings were merely a dream.
This felt like a dream.
You asked how he was. He didn't hear that question often, so he didn't really answer with fun stories or anything exciting. His mind went into autopilot after you left. And after Lillith left, a lot of memories seemed suppressed. You asked about Charlie. He was worried you'd do that.
“Well- She uh.. went through her whole teenage phase, you know, goth makeup, boyfriends, a bunch of stuff she grew out of. She spent more time with.. her m-mother, though.. as she got older. But hey! Here she is now, doing the whole hotel thing, I'm very proud of her.” He nodded, clearly ready to move off the topic. But you weren’t.
“She looked up to you, you know. A lot. Oh man, she would cry for you all the time, constantly try to get into your workshop - as cute as it was, I wasn't ready to chase her down all the time. And i’d say she still looks up to you, Lucifer. You inspired her, I can tell.” You swayed the backwash of your tea in your cup, the pot was emptied long ago. Looking up, you see a trembling smile then watch him exhale a shaky sigh.
“Thank you.” He said softly. You couldn't stop yourself from leaning towards him a bit, after placing your cup down with a small clink.
Stop, Don't do this again.
Things might be different this time, but it can only go wrong in some other way, you were sure of it. Still, he leaned in as well. As you got closer, ready to shut your eyes to the reality and just let your fantasies take over, he reeled back, cover his nose and mouth with his hand. You jumped back, clearly embarrassed. He wouldnt call attention to it, leaving you to wonder what went wrong, but the scent from the sweater. It was disgusting to him.
“O-Okay, good catch up. I should get going, I - umm.. I promised Charlie I'd help her with something, so..” That was a lie. But if you spent another moment in that room with him alone, you'd have no control over what happened next.
“Oh.. right. Here -” He rose from his chair and opened the portal back up, leading to the same hallway you were in before. Turning back to him as he approached you, neither of you really said goodbye. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. After an awkward exchange of trying to figure out if this should end with a handshake, a wave, a kiss - nope not that one. a kiss would be too much. But a hug?
Lucifer carefully placed his arms around you, encasing you close to his chest. He could feel your heart rate increase. The scent of your cardigan you wore overwhelmed him, but he refused to let go after feeling your arms lay comfortably around the back of his waist.
Good lord, this man hadn't gotten any in centuries. it took all of his strength to not trail his hands underneath that damned sweater and pull it off of you, feeling his way up your torso, sliding just the clawed tips of his fingers under your shirt until you - 
“Lucifer?” Your words were mumbled, your face pressed against his chest after he had tightened his grip.
“Hoof- sorry.” He quickly pulled away. You immediately missed the touch, but it was definitely for the best. For both of you.
“Well, Thanks for coming by.. you have my number..? Right! Call me whenever you want, I'm not busy-” Sure. The king of Hell wasn't busy. He just didn't want to admit that he’d drop anything he was doing if it meant hearing your voice. You nodded your head, taking a firm grip on his hand as you stepped carefully out of the portal and back into the hotel.
“I'll see you, Lucifer.” You said sweetly, he visibly melted at your words.
“I hope so.” With a quick wave, the portal cinched shut.
---
Alastor stood in the hallway, right where the portal had closed, greeting you with a stretched smile.
“Darling! How was your little visit? I wasn't expecting him to sweep you off your feet so soon, I hope it went well.” He approached you, tapping his microphone to the ground and leaning into you.
“You never called for me, I’m hoping he didn’t hurt you. Again.” His voice crackled and a high pitch ring made you cover your ears for a moment.
“No, Alastor, it was good! We're gonna try and work things out, see if we can be friends again. I think it went the best it could, if you ask me.” You hummed with a sense of confidence, strolling dwon the hall with Alastor following beside you. You didn't notice his eye twitch and his ears folding back at the mention of his full name. He was losing you.
“Just be careful, dear! We don’t want you to make any mistakes again, do we?” He had no idea what he was talking about. Right? You hadn’t told him anything.
“Well, it’s about time I run some of my errands. Let me know if I can be of service to you.” A signature greeting for you at this point, Alastor reaches for your hand and presses another kiss across your knuckles. He looks up at you the way he usually does, but he let his lips linger for just a moment longer. Shutting his eyes for a moment, he tilted your hand to place his nose against the sleeve of your gifted sweater, inhaling the scent and exhaling with a hum.
“R-right, I will. Thanks.” You pulled away from his grasp, his eyes suddenly shooting open. You pulled away from him. That hasn't happened before. He wasn't nervous, exactly. But he did disappear into his shadow, which darted down the hall in the blink of an eye, leaving you with nothing but innocent curiosity.
♡ ♡ ♡
To be continued! Stay Tuned ;)
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Taylor has been lying on Joe since You’re Losing Me (Important Thread)
I’ve been confident in this theory since Midnights, but didn’t know how to spread it. Taylor is now blatantly lying about Joe and rewriting history. SHE was the one who didn’t want to get married, and Joe broke up with her over it. She chose fame over marriage, and the evidence is all over her music.
Ever since I heard “Mine” I instinctively knew Taylor was afraid of marriage. It’s the classic child-of-divorce case. “You say we’ll never make my parents’ mistakes.” / “Brace myself for the goodbye ‘cause it’s all I’ve ever known.”
Her fear of marriage continues throughout her discography. Don’t let “Lover” and “Paper Rings” fool you—those were false promises to Joe at the start of their relationship. Listen to “champagne problems,” a song she and Joe co-wrote. What couple writes a song about breaking up because the girl is terrified of marriage 4 years into their relationship? Why, one where that’s happening, of course. “Your Midas touch on the Chevy door,” aka how she always references Joe turning things to gold. And don’t forget “Renegade,” a song where in the music video SHE is the one anxiously staring out the window being told to “open the blinds.” (“Is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything or do you just not want to?”, the lyric referring to Joe asking for marriage) This was a song written by Taylor from Joe’s perspective at the time. “I tapped on your window on your darkest night” (referring to Rep era) / “Starry eyes sparking up my darkest night.” … “And then you squeeze my hand as I’m about to leave.” (Joe’s POV) / “It’s on your face, don’t walk away, I need to say…” Taylor was the one always blowing up on him and then apologizing, as illustrated in Afterglow, The Great War, and most obviously her post-breakup behavior. Joe was NOT the volatile one of the two (also supported by articles released by her team, stating Joe’s personality was “great for Taylor” because “he is very calm”).
Then, just look at Midnights. The Bejeweled music video (which Taylor wrote and directed) is the clearest thing. A video all about choosing pop-stardom over a ring from a prince? While she and her boyfriend are having marriage disagreements? Hmmm. Interesting. Seriously, just go watch the intro to that video and tell me Taylor was the one fighting to get married behind the scenes.
Midnights lyrics: “He wanted a bride, I was making my own name. Chasing that fame.” (a person who WANTS to get married would NOT be writing this song!!!) “All they keep asking me is if I’m gonna be your bride. The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife.” “No deal the 1950s shit they want from me. I just wanna stay in that lavender haze” “I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.” “I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money. She thinks I left them in the will.” (accompanied by elaborate scene displaying family-related anxieties in music video)
This is someone who is terrified of marriage and being an adult. I believe she launched herself into a fame-hug to avoid confronting her issues with Joe at this late stage in their relationship. After he broke up with her, she realized how deep of a mistake she made during the Eras Tour. Hence, the big lie in “You’re Losing Me” (which was written THEN, in 2023, conveniently dropped during the Matty Healy controversy) and her daring him to “say something” about the lie. (False God lyric: “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town.” When they fight, he was always the one ignoring her craziness.) And soon after, her peculiar surprise song choices on June 23: “Paper Rings” (“I’d marry you with paper rings”) and “If This Was A Movie” (“If this was a movie, you’d be here by now”).
The initial breakup article by People (Tree Paine’s mouthpiece) even outlines this story. “According to multiple sources, Swift and Alwyn had been ‘talking about marriage as recently as a few months ago.’ But at the end of the day, the couple wasn’t ready for a future together. ‘Taylor didn’t see them working out in the long run,’ says the insider.” This was before she wrote YLM, trying to provoke him, and now she will be driving it further with this new album I’m certain she wrote during 2023, NOT 2 years ago like she and Jack are trying to push. Her having Jack drop YLM’s “2021 date,” and then liking that tweet implying Sweet Nothing was not about Joe (when it was clearly about Joe)… she’s rewriting the narrative. You can’t trust a word she says.
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shitpostdevil · 1 day
Text
Am I Allowed to Cry?
(((SatoSugu one shot)))
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Drowning in the Blue Nile
He sent me "Downtown Lights"
I hadn't heard it in a while
My boredom's bone-deep
This cage was once just fine
Am I allowed to cry?
‘Why didn’t you chase him?’ 
The words echo in my mind, 
haunting me as I stare 
at the bare wall of my dorm room 
where photos used to stay. 
It was my responsibility as a jujutsu sorcerer 
to stop exactly what Suguru caused. 
His smile was so soft. 
He knew I wasn’t going to understand 
and he didn’t even try to convince me. 
He was always like that this last summer. 
Something in him changed after Amanai died. 
I’m pretty sure he had thought I was dead too 
from the look on his face 
when I walked into that room holding her corpse. 
I knew I had changed. 
Being on the brink of death will do that to a person. 
I grip my bedsheets, 
gritting my teeth at the tears 
that burned their way out of my eyes 
against my protest. 
All I remember after that is screaming 
until I heard Shoko’s voice.
“Give him space, 
get out of here! 
Gojo, hey, Gojo-”
I dream of cracking locks
Throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks
Crashing into him tonight, he's a paradox
I'm seeing visions, am I bad?
Or mad? Or wise?
Do we still talk? 
It would be unwise to indulge the answer to that. 
How they haven’t found me out yet? 
I have no idea. 
They must trust their golden boy enough 
to not assume that he would be 
in the bed of a criminal after long missions, 
dressing my wounds, 
always stretching out the time. 
He explained himself. 
Adopted two little girls- 
I can’t blame him for doing what he did, 
but I would never say that out loud. 
This world is… horrible. 
We know that better than anyone I suppose.
What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh, what a way to die
I keep recalling things we never did
Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts
Without ever touching his skin
How can I be guilty as sin?
Staring at my phone screen, 
my scrolling through pointless pictures 
paused by his text; 
When are you coming over next? 
Simple, but he always did get straight to the point. 
My finger absent-mindedly twirls 
around the black cat phone charm that he got for me- 
something I had claimed I’d won in a random gacha pull, 
but I knew the truth and that’s all that mattered. 
Part of me needed him with me, 
even if I couldn’t admit it. 
I want to drop everything and run to him 
every 
damn 
time. 
Soon. I text back, 
locking my phone and letting my arm drop, 
painted fingertips grazing over sheets 
he will never see again.
I keep these longings locked
In lowercase, inside a vault
Someone told me there's no such thing as bad thoughts
Only your actions talk
“How long are you going to do this, Gojo?” 
Shoko quizzes me, 
her face holds a touch of disapproval 
but not disappointment. 
I just look at her. 
Does she really expect me to give an answer for that? 
Until the day I die. 
I want to say. 
Want to scream.
I can’t even give an actual answer 
because all that would give is 
confirmation that I still see the ‘traitor’. 
She knows. 
She has to. 
She… saw how badly it broke me- 
feelings I never want to unleash again. 
“What are you talking about?” 
I finally ask, 
eyes begging her to drop it through sunglasses. 
She just pulls out her cigarette box silently, 
flipping the top open 
and holding it in my direction, offering. 
I take one.
These fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath
Taking all of me, we've already done it in my head
If it's make-believe
Why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow?
“S-Satoru~” 
His liquor soaked breath stutters in the dark 
as I work my art on him, 
messy kisses to the insides of his thighs, 
leaving marks that will only be known to us. 
His hands are tangled in my hair loosely, 
tightening every moment he feels good. 
He refuses to be quiet, 
but I couldn’t complain. 
“A God amongst men, 
and you’re begging for me.” 
I state breathlessly, 
smirking up at him. 
He just hums in pure amusement.
“You always were so cocky~” 
he chides, 
hips bucking when my lips find his leaking head.
“You were saying?” I ask.
“Mm-mmm~” he says as he pushes my mouth onto his cock. 
I can’t help but give him what he wants.
What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh, what a way to die
My bedsheets are ablaze, I've screamed his name
Building up like waves crashing over my grave
Without ever touching his skin
How can I be guilty as sin?
Shoko notices the hickey I tried my hardest to cover 
almost immediately. 
Deny. 
Deny. 
Deny. 
“The girl I was with wasn’t really as careful as I asked her to be.” 
I bluffed, laughing. 
Her eyes questioned deeper, 
but not her voice. 
What if I roll the stone away?
They're gonna crucify me anyway
What if the way you hold me is actually what's holy?
If long-suffering propriety is what they want from me
They don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly
I choose you and me religiously
“You know this can’t last forever Satoru.” He says. 
I clench my jaw. 
Of course I know that. 
Why did he feel the need to bring this up again? 
His hands are so gently painting my fingernails black. 
It was his way of being intimate without having to admit it. 
I secretly loved having any trace of him on me that I could get. 
I don’t want to respond to him, 
I just want to stay here, 
at this moment. 
Forever. 
I never wanted him to stop holding my hands so preciously.
What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?
One slip and falling back into the hedge maze
Oh, what a way to die
I keep recalling things we never did
Messy top lip kiss, how I long for our trysts
Without ever touching his skin
How can I be guilty as sin?
“At least curse at me a little at the very end.” 
His smile is still so soft even with blood everywhere. 
I just fall to my knees, 
eyes filled with traumas no one should have to see. 
“If I had noticed… 
If I saw how badly it destroyed you… 
would it have changed anything?” 
I’m speaking before I can think it through.
“Perhaps…” He coughs, breathing sharp, 
“But then again… probably not.” 
The tears are falling before I can stop them. 
“I’m so sorry.” 
I can't get my voice above a whisper.
“It’s not your fault, my one and only.” 
My one and only…
He sent me "Downtown Lights"
I hadn't heard it in a while
“Satoru.” 
The voice of a ghost speaks from behind me and I falter, 
if only for a moment. 
Suguru…? 
I turn. 
I’m trapped again, 
but this time it’s real. 
Is it really so bad to die if it’s at his hands? 
Horror written all over my face- 
that’s his body, but that isn’t him.
Am I allowed to cry?
My soul knows otherwise…
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aventurine-official · 16 hours
Note
When Aventurine comes back to the Reverie late at night, he receives a present. There's a bouquet of blue hydrangeas, lilies and forget-me-nots in front of the door to his room. He receives a text from an unknown source. There's no way to track the sender, even with the IPC's technology. The message says:
You didn't notice, but I've been watching you for months. Only now I'm bit by bit starting to see under the surface. Your act is slowly breaking. There are cracks on your fake mask. How long can you keep it up? The truth is becoming visible to me, soon it'll be everyone around you. Be careful, gambler. You're begining to lose your game.
Ever since your arrival on Penacony, how many times have you been vulnerable in front of somebody else. Beautiful toys don't cry, have you forgotten what you've been taught so painstakingly? At the end of the day, you're not only an aventurine stone, are you?
You can't know my identity yet, but when your luck runs out and you finally lose, I'll find you. I'll be the last defense you have and the strongest one too. I hope the day is never going to come, but we both know it's close. How much longer can you last, beautiful peacock? You're not on your own. I'll be your guard.
If my findings are wrong, forget about this message.
- 👑
(NOT an anon signoff pls, don't add it)
*The blonde picks up the bouquet with sparkling eyes, smelling the fresh flowers. They're so, so pretty-- he wishes for a moment that it's Veritas who left them for him, but snaps himself out of his fantasy quite quickly. It's impossible the scholar could ever be so attentive, to somebody like him nonetheless.*
*As he contemplates how in the cosmos anybody could have known the names of his favourite flowers, his phone goes off. How strange-- he isn't expecting a follow-up from Topaz until tomorrow morning. Perhaps she's early?*
*Aventurine sighs, picking up his cellphone and unlocking it swiftly. A single notification lies in wait-- and the user cannot be indentified. The message is quite long... The gambler starts to doubt it was intended for his eyes, but the longer he reads, the more unsettled he becomes.*
*Someone is watching him? Someone who refuses to introduce themselves until his last moment? Mysterious, and a tad morbid-- he's sure he would have noticed somebody around...*
*Who is this person to judge his vulnerability? If they've noticed such things, they must have indeed been watching him closely... And yet he can't recall any of his acquaintances having this sort of tone.*
*'Beautiful toys don't cry'--The words are like a slap to the face, and the following question taunts him. Of course he hasn't forgotten-- the ink-black mark seared into the marred skin of his neck can't let him escape those awful memories even for a moment.*
*Several emotions stir inside the Avgin, and he's not sure whether to be fearful or outraged. He quickly redacts a response, his fingers trembling as he sends the message.*
Aventurine: Who are you and what do you want with me?
⚠️Your message has failed to send.
Aventurine: Is this someone's idea of a sick joke?
⚠️Your message has failed to send.
Aventurine: How do you know so much about me..?
⚠️The person you are attempting to contact is unavailable.
Aventurine: If you aren't lying...
Aventurine: I want your help
*The blonde inhales, thinking his next words over.*
Aventurine: I need it
Aventurine: If you really aren't messing with me, meet me in Dream's Edge at sundown tomorrow
⚠️Your message has failed to send.
*The gambler swipes away from the messages, the hot tears streaming down his cheeks going almost unnoticed as he opens his contact list and calls Ratio before he can think better of it.*
*He presses his back against the wall, sinking down to rest against the floor with a shaky breath as he listens desperately to the dial tone.*
Pick up, doc. Come on.
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