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#maybe hell have better luck now
molliemoo3 · 7 months
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Expected but still a bit sad after him being there for 6 years
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piplupod · 5 days
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I've been wondering why MH workers have been treating me like I'm The Lying Liar when I talk about emotions and other people's reactions to things and I found out today (by glancing at a medical form that my counselor filled out for my intake at a program) that my psychiatrist actually did diagnose me with BPD and the psychologist who disagreed with that diagnosis and instead PROPERLY diagnosed me with ASD didn't get BPD taken off my file..... I'M SO PEEVED. and I doubt I'll be able to get BPD removed from my file because MH workers act like everyone diagnosed with a cluster B disorder is an attention-seeking liar. dragging my hands down my face. this is so stupid oh my god. any BPD symptoms that I do have are better explained by OTHER disorders I have 😭
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silkythewriter · 3 months
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Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!
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Warnings!:non!
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (メ﹏メ)(。•́︿•̀。)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´・ᴗ・`♡
Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime
❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️
ఌ��★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
“Each time I find myself
Flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race!”
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!
Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?
At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!
He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.
He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!
He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!
Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience
Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.
This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.
Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.
Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.
Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!
Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too
He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.
He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.
He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.
He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥
He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out
NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.
Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!
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Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.
It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.
And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.
He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.
He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.
But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!
Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course
Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.
If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always
Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!
Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.
He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet
He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. (;へ:)but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… ( ̄▽ ̄💧
He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!
Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!
Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.
He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!
You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.
Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!
Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
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AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months
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F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-
And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)
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I hear your calls <3
...............
"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"
"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."
With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.
You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.
And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.
You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.
But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.
It was like you were performing a surgical operation..
Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.
Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.
Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.
Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.
Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.
"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."
"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"
"...because I was his favorite."
"Huh..?"
"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."
'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.
Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.
"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."
"........"
Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.
Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.
Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"
He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.
'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'
Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.
You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"
"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"
Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.
You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.
"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.
He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."
"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."
"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"
Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"
"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."
"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"
"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."
With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."
"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"
"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."
"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.
You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.
He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.
"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.
"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."
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neo-nomatrix · 5 months
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In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader
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word count: a little over 1k
summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different
You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.
Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.
Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.
Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.
Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.
Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.
Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!
A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?
Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.
You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.
“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.
Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.
You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”
You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.
“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.
“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.
“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.
“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.
“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.
“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.
You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.
“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.
“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.
“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.
“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.
“I’m not.”
“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.
“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.
“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.
“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.
“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.
“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.
“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.
“Oh yeah? Do tell.”
“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.
“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.
“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.
He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.
“You like what you see?” He teases.
“You’re an idiot,” You smile.
“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.
Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.
“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.
You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.
“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.
He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.
“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.
“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.
Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.
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fangirl-dot-com · 8 days
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🪡The Obvious String
*part of the reverse trope series*
Paring: Lestappen x MercedesDriver!Reader Genre: SMAU/Fluff/Humor Summary: The invisible string was so visible that everyone missed it but them. What are they? Rivals? Friends? Emotional Support Buddies? But they can't be lovers . . . can they?
*I took a lot of inspo from people on twitter. I think this is the most work I've ever done for a chapter before. the tweets alone took almost two hours to do. I absolutely love lestappen so this is super self-indulgent. but that's why I'm a writer. I hope you all enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
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Lando knew that there was something between the three of them. 
Anyone could see that. Instagram, twitter, TikTok, hell even the Formula 1 app was talking about it. The grid was getting very suspicious, but who could blame them. 
Max wasn’t putting out the fire by pulling his two childhood friends in as they posed for pictures. Charles couldn’t help but flash his God-given dimples at the Dutchman or the Briton girl. And Y/n, she was just as bad, blush on her cheeks every moment she was around them. 
So yeah, everyone was talking. But, no one truly knew what exactly was going on. 
And that’s exactly what Lando was going to find out. (With the help of his fellow 16 drivers.)
His first victim: the French bestie of the non-French man. 
“I have no clue what is going on between the three,” was the first thing that came out of Pierre’s mouth when Lando showed up to his driver’s room door. The poor McLaren driver hadn’t even gotten a word out. 
Lando rolled his eyes. “You have to know something. And you call yourself Charles’s best mate.” 
Pierre threw his hands up. “Non, apparently that is Y/n and Max. I’ve been kicked to the side.” 
The Alpine driver definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He was actually thankful that you and Max had been able to keep an eye on Charles when he couldn’t. Knowing that the Monegasque had frequent delf-deprecating thoughts, he felt better that he had the two of you. 
Pierre turned to Lando. “Aren’t you supposed to Max’s best friend as well? How would I know something that you don’t.” 
Now that made Lando’s brows furrow. He was supposed to be Max’s best friend. And maybe that’s why he felt a bit peeved to not know what was supposedly going on between you, him, and Charles. His arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” he muttered, turning away to the door. 
The Frenchman scoffed. “Good luck mate. We’ve been trying since 2019.” 
“We?” 
Lewis was not expecting the numerous knocks at his door during media day. The Briton held his breath, willing the unexpected visitors to give up and go away. Yet, a sigh left his lips once the knocking started up again. He pulled himself off of his couch and walked over. 
When the door swung in, two bodies brushed against his side. 
His eye brows raised. “Yes, welcome. Come right in. Oh, thank you Lewis for allowing us to disturb your peace.” 
Lando chewed his lip. “Yeah, thanks man.” 
Pierre took a look around the room. “Thank you Lewis.” 
The papaya clad driver took a seat exactly where Lewis’s had been sitting, which cause Lewis to glare at him. 
“And why are the two of you here?” 
Pierre huffed, looking at the pictures on Lewis’s wall. 
“Ask him.” A finger pointed at Lando, making the Briton look up from his phone. 
“Oh yeah. Do you know. . . ”
Once again, Lando couldn’t even finish his sentence because Lewis interrupted him. 
“No, I don’t know what’s going on between Y/n, Max, and Charles. Honestly Lando, no one knows and I don’t think they know either.” 
Lando leaned his head back and groaned. 
“But how could they not? They all make goo-goo eyes at each other. And it’s worse on the podium.” 
“At least you haven’t bit on the podium with two-thirds of the groups. It’s insufferable man. They can’t go without talking about each other for more than a few moments.”
A laugh left Pierre’s lips. “Oh yeah. It’s always ‘Y/n was so strong on corner 2’ or ‘Pierre, did you see how Max overtook Checo?’ And then ‘Oh Charles was told to stay behind again. He really needs to ignore them.’ It makes me want to puke every time.” 
Lando scratched his chin. “Now that I’m thinking about it, you’re right. It was like how Max and Charles completely ignored me in China. They kept looking at Y/n below!” 
The last few words had a slight whine to them. Charles had been quick enough to catch Checo on the last lap, and placed himself in P3 after Lando. 
The Alpine driver looked lost. “Lewis, you’ve been Y/n’s teammate for almost three years. How can you not know anything.” 
All he got was a glare back. 
“Like I said, Gasly, I don’t even think they know something is going on. It’s pathetic honestly.” 
Lando put his head in his hands. “She must be pining. Don’t you two do girls night or at least something like that?” 
“Lando, she spends all her free moments with Max and Charles. How can she be pining to me if she doesn’t leave their side.” 
It was quite for a moment before Lando snapped. 
“I’ve got it. If we want grid gossip, we got to go to the source.” 
“No Lando, I don’t know if Max, Charles, and Y/n are in a secret relationship. And I don’t think they think of each other like that.” 
The groan that Lando let out was so loud it made a couple of people look their way. George, the tall, lanky Briton was set to take Lewis’s seat for 2025 after two years in Williams. The driver pool was going crazy. 
Logan was returning to Formula 1 with HAAS after a brief sabbatical and would be a teammate pair with Oliver Bearman. Nico and Daniel of all people were going to Audi. Liam was set to take the second Red Bull seat. And Carlos, well, no one really knew, but rumors said that he was going to return with Audi when they caught up with the regulations in 2027. 
The McLaren driver was close to pulling his curls out. 
“But George.” 
Lando was now full on whining. George seemed exasperated and shrugged. 
“We’re not that close anyway. We aren’t even teammates yet. And you knew how she yelled at me that one time that my car scraped a hole in Max’s car.” 
The group of four winced at the memory. 
Max had just finished yelling at George, calling him every name under the sun. And then you had shown up to double it. The Williams, well, now Mercedes driver, was thankful that Charles had shown up to drag the two of you away. 
Lewis looked a bit pale. 
“Yeah. I don’t think she’s fully forgiven me for Silverstone 2021.” 
Lando turned to Lewis. “But they were all still fighting at that point. Remember the whole unfollowing they did in 2019?” 
Pierre snorted. “Of course we remember. That doesn’t mean that they didn’t still care about each other. You know that Charles and Y/n were the first ones to congratulate Max after he won the championship in Abu Dhabi. And then her and Max practically tackled Charles in Japan in 2022. I don’t even want to imagine when Y/n wins her championship.”  
Lando ran a hand down his face. 
“Well, if Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis and George don’t know. Then who would?” 
George cocked his head. 
“Have you asked Daniel? You know that he and Max are pretty close.” 
Lando’s eyes widened. “Why did I not think of that. George I could kiss you!” 
George’s face scrunched. “No thank you. I don’t want to be anywhere near your lips.” 
Lewis was already at the door, wanting to get a move on. “Let’s go. George you’re coming too. If we get to the bottom of this, you’re going to have to learn how to deal with all three.” 
A shudder ran down George’s spine. He did not want to imagine the horror of sharing a podium with all of them. He’s heard enough stories. 
When they got to Daniel’s motorhome, the Australian was peacefully talking with Oscar. Lando had run up to them and was currently hunched over, trying to catch his breath. 
“Do,” inhale, “you two,” exhale, “know if,” inhale and heave, “there’s something,” exhale, “going on,” inhale, “with. . .”
Daniel sighed. “Max, Charles, and Y/n?” 
Lando shot up, eyes full of hope. Lewis nodded next to him. 
“Yes! Do you?” 
The older Aussie wanted to smirk as he saw hope fill the group’s faces. He nodded a bit, and Lando looked like someone told him that his birthday and Christmas had come early. 
“No.” 
The McLaren driver fell to the ground. Pierre smacked Daniel on the shoulder. 
“Why would you do that!” 
Now Lewis was the one whining. 
“Because it was funny. Mate, they’ve been like this since Max joined in 2018. Even then, it was worse than whatever this is.” 
The Mercedes driver of the group let out another groan for what felt like the millionth time in that hour. 
“Max was insufferable in 2018. Taking his sim everywhere so that he could game and race with them online. And the multiple phone calls. I think Max partied harder for Charles’s F2 champion win and Y/n’s F3 championship than his first race win.” 
“Ok, but that’s kind of cute.” 
All eyes landed on Oscar. 
The younger Aussie’s eyes bulged. “What?” 
Daniel pointed a finger at him. “If Max hears you say cute in any way, shape, or form that is distinctly near his name, he will come after you.”  
An audible gulp was heard. 
Lando had begun to pace. “Well, if I don’t know, Pierre doesn’t know, Lewis doesn’t know, George doesn’t know, Oscar doesn’t know, and Daniel doesn’t know, then who would know?”
Everyone looked a little lost. 
“Aha!” 
The two papaya drivers jumped out of reflex. Lando’s head turned violently toward Lewis. 
“What!” 
He held his phone up with a contact showing. 
“We call Seb.” 
“Lewis, like I’ve told you. Charles hasn’t told me anything.” 
For the sake of everyone around in the paddock, they held in their groans. 
“But Seb, you were practically Charles’s grid-dad. You have to know something!” Daniel said, face nearly in Lewis’s phone, as if Sebastian could hear him better. 
A sigh was heard through the speaker. 
“Charles was nothing less than a terror in 2019. I think the calmest anyone has seen him was 2018 when his car didn’t go fast enough for him to catch anyone.” 
Lewis hummed. “That’s true.” 
“Because everyone there should know that 2019 was the year of them. Every headline was all about them. And don’t get me started on when they had that big fight. I had to hear everything about it every. single. weekend.” 
Daniel nodded. “It was the same with Max. If Fernando was here, he could say the same for Y/n since she was still racing with Alpine at the time.” 
Oscar had completely forgotten about Fernando being Y/n’s teammate for half a season before she made the jump to Williams to replace Kubica to race alongside Nicholas Latiffi. The young Aussie had looked up to the older female when he was making the decision to leave Alpine. She had personally congratulated him on the move and gave him a wink. Well, had tried to before Max and Charles dragged her away. 
Sebastian had gone quiet over the phone. 
“Has anyone actually asked them if they’re together or not? Instead of just asking everyone else about a matter that deeply involves the three of them?” 
Their silence had answered for them. 
Lando grabbed Lewis’s phone out of his hand. 
“Thank you Seb! We’ll get right on it!” 
“Hey!” 
It was too late and Lando had already hung up and was passing the phone back to his fellow Briton. 
“Guys, we can’t ask them.” 
“What!” Pierre yelled. 
“Think about it. If we just go and ask, they’re going to make excuses. We won’t get a right answer.” 
“Lando, you’re being unreal. Let’s just go ask them,” George said. 
“Ask them what?” 
The six of them jumped out of their skin at the new arrival of a familiar voice. Lando froze before slowly turning around, to come face to face with you, Charles, and Max, all looking cozy for media day. 
“Uh, nothing?” Lando squeaked out, eyes darting around so he wouldn’t have to look at the trio. 
Max snorted. “Doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” 
He took a sip of his Red Bull. 
Daniel looked panicked. “We were just wanting to ask, uh, Lewis and Nico if they had forgiven each other yet?” 
“Hey!” 
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Why do you seem so unsure? And Lewis is right there mate. Kind of rude to talk about his problems in front of him.” 
“Thank you Charles.” 
The Monegasque hummed as he turned to Max. His mouth dropped. 
“Max, I thought I told you to stop drinking that stuff. It’s bad for your heart.” 
The Dutchman shrugged and took another sip, just to spite the Ferrari driver. You rolled your eyes, knowing a playfight was just around the corner. 
Oscar’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the trio’s choice of outfits. 
“Y/n, are those Charles’s cloud pants? Charles is that Max’s cap? And Max is that Charles’s Monza hoodie.” 
The arguing that was beginning to build between the two male drivers suddenly stopped. Your eyes widened as you jerked your head toward them. 
Sure enough, Charles’s hat was not bright red and it had the number 1 on it, something that Charles lost to Max in 2023. You leaned back to look at the hoodie Max was wearing, and indeed it had the iconic podium scene on the back of it. The two males looked toward your pants. The bright white clouds seemed to stare back at them. 
“Uh, yes?” you asked. “But we share clothes all the time. It’s not a big deal.” 
Max and Charles nodded before Charles was hit with a thought. 
“Oh, chéri, I forgot to tell you that your dry cleaning was picked up a few hours ago and is back at the hotel,” he said as he looked at his phone, completely missing the six pairs of wide eyes that were now looking at him. 
Max smirked as he leaned over and kissed the top of Charles’s head. 
“Thank you schatje.” 
This time, a whine came from you. 
“I’m being left out,” you muttered, crossing your arms. However, the two were not having it and quickly brought you into their arms. 
Lando stared, blinked, and stared some more before he rubbed his eyes. He completely believed that the three would disappear when his hands lowered, but he caught Max in the middle of kissing your lips. 
“WHAT?” 
You turned back to the group. 
“Are you all fine?” 
Lewis threw his hands up. “I’m done. Call me when we need to go to the media.” 
The door opened quickly, allowing Lewis to slip out. 
Pierre looked a bit pale. “What? When? Where? Why?”
Charles shrugged. “We’re together. After my championship. The hotel. We love each other.” 
Daniel sighed. “So you’ve been together since 2022?” 
Max rolled his eyes. “No.” 
“But Charles just said his championship!” Oscar explained, hands outstretched. 
It was your turn to smile. “His F2 championship. We’ve been together since 2017.” 
A long sigh came from Lando. “I think I need to sit down.” 
Daniel’s door swung back open, revealing Lewis once again. He also seemed out of breath. His hands were on his knees for a bit until he straightened back up. 
“You’re telling me that you three have been together SINCE 2017!” 
You nodded. “Yes.” 
Pierre pouted. “But what about 2019?” 
The three of you winced in a synchronized matter. With a quick look, Max was the one to sigh. His hands dug into the front pocket of the cozy, black hoodie. 
“Long story short, we took a small break until Y/n won in Brazil. We all got our heads out of our asses and apologized.” 
Oscar rose an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you followed each other back on Instagram.”
A snort from you made the two men chuckle. You simply shrugged your shoulders. 
“Too lazy? We don’t feel like breaking the internet.” 
Lando took a seat on Daniel’s couch. “Why haven’t you told anyone?” 
Charles ran a hand over his face. “Lando, we race in countries where people are killed for being homosexual. We can’t risk anything.” 
The air suddenly took a solemn turn as the McLaren driver nodded, truly taking in the situation. Charles chewed his lip in anxiety, while Max picked at his fingers. You were looking at the group. 
“You won’t tell anyone right?” 
Suddenly, everyone felt bad for wanting to find out. They had pushed the three to confess something that they might not have wanted people to know about at that time. What a group of friends they were. 
Lando hung his head. “We won’t. I’m sorry that we asked about it before you three were obviously ready to tell someone.” 
Another snort left Charles’s lips as his hand rested on his mouth. Max had a shit-eating grin on his face, you had one to match. 
Pierre looked at them with a skeptical expression. “Something to tell us?” 
Max’s shoulders raised. “People know. You aren’t the first ones to know.” 
Lewis sighed, shoulder sagging. George put a hand on the older Briton’s shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. Lando looked close to losing it. His hazel eyes narrowed at the trio. 
“Then . . . who knows?” 
Charles’s eyes looked up a bit as he started to count. 
“Uh, Christian, Fred, Toto, Kimi.” 
You pulled out his fingers and counted.  
“Jensen, Mark, uh, Nico.” 
Lewis looked like he wanted to pass out. 
Max smirked. 
“Oh, and Seb.” 
There was silence amongst the group. 
“Oh he is so dead.” 
“Lando you can’t kill Seb!” 
“Sorry Lewis, but this is his fault!” 
“Calm down Lando. You’ll lose your seat.” 
“Oscar, I just want to talk to Seb. Who has his phone number?” 
“I am not giving you his number Lando.” 
“I’m not asking you Lewis. Daniel, I know you have it.” 
You smiled in Max and Charles’s arms as Lando started to get physical, trying to grab Daniel’s phone. 
You leaned up, immediately being engulfed in Max’s aftershave. “Should we stop them?” 
Charles leaned a bit forward to look at his two lovers. A soft smile formed on his face, before a smirk replaced it. 
“Nah.” 
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roosterforme · 19 days
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You rendered Bradley speechless and left him wondering if your students were the ones who wanted to know what he looked like or if it was really you who was curious. He wanted to know everything about you, but the urge to ask for more was mingling with his duty to keep things professional. You and he teetered on the edge... until you didn't.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley looking hot
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley found himself homesick in a way he never did before. He still had weeks and weeks of this deployment to go, stuck on the aircraft carrier, endlessly curious about someone he barely knew anything about and a classroom full of kids he'd never met. But he felt like he wanted to know more about you and them. 
At least he was too busy now to dwell on the fact that it had been days since the last mail call. He was never one who was lined up, eager to collect something from a loved one. Vanessa and all of his other ex girlfriends never sent him handwritten notes or snacks. He'd gotten sporadic emails in the past, but nothing that made him smile and laugh out loud. Never anything that made him sad when he realized he had reached the end of the note, hoping for more.
He wanted to go back to the lounge and check his email, but he was afraid he'd have nothing new to read. There was really nobody else other than you who would send him anything right now, and he was sure you had something better to do with your time than comment on the photos he'd send of his jet and the engine parts. And even if you had written back, how long could he really keep this conversation with you going? How soon would you run out of interest in his deployment?
Bradley knew he'd be much better at talking to you in person, but how the hell was he supposed to get there? Jesus Christ, you were probably married. You probably already had someone back home wrapped around your fingers, and here he was, still thinking about you. 
"Pitiful," he muttered, making his way to the lounge anyway. He would keep it professional with you. One hundred percent. But he still wanted to know if your students got to see the photos and if they had any questions about them. 
When he logged into his email account, his heart skipped around a bit when he saw that he had something new from you. Then he opened it up and read it, and his lips parted softly in surprise at what you'd sent.
Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now. 
We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.
Bradley read it again. Still surprised, he read it a third time. Were you the one asking for the photo? It seemed like you might be. Or was he just projecting here? Shit. Maybe. He'd been thinking about how he'd respond if you asked him something personal, and this felt like you and he were teetering right on the edge.
You even echoed his own thoughts, but it still made him warm all over to know that you looked forward to hearing from him. That it made your day better when he sent an email. He decided he was going to keep this going as long as he could.
He logged out again and headed to the mess hall for dinner, because there was no point in responding until he had the photo you just asked him for. One where you'd be able to see exactly what every inch of him looked like. As he ate his meatloaf, his thoughts all settled on that one pertinent question: were your students really the ones who were curious about how he looked, or were you? Because it sounded like it could be the latter. He fucking hoped it was. And he fucking hoped you wouldn't be disappointed after tomorrow when he sent you exactly what was asked of him.
----------------------------
You thought you were ready, but you weren't. Not for this. Not for him. Not even close. Thankfully it was still early enough that none of your students were in the classroom with you, because Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw had responded to your slightly tipsy email from a few nights ago. He sent exactly one photo, and your only response was to softly moan, "Holy hell."
To say he was attractive looking standing there in his flight suit next to the jet with his name on the side of it would have been the understatement of the century. He was hot. Unbelievably hot. Top tier. You shamelessly zoomed in to get an even better look at his face which was complete with a crooked little smile and a fucking mustache.
"Who does he think he is?" you asked the empty room, voice filled with need. "The audacity."
Even his messy, wavy hair looked soft enough for you to want to rub your face and lips against it. Where did that idea come from? You uncrossed and recrossed your legs as the most delightful thoughts filled your mind. You already knew he was sweet, kind, attentive and humble, but now you knew he was easy on the eyes, too. If only you could hear his voice. 
After several minutes of uninterrupted gawking, you realized he'd written a few sentences to you as well, addressing you just as he always had. But this felt more personal. Maybe a little intimate.
For reference, I'm 6'1" and 205 pounds. That should give you and your kiddos a good size comparison, yeah? Also, just a little curious myself here.... are you sure they were the only ones who wanted to know what I look like? Or did you want to know, too?
So he called you out. Your whole body felt too hot and too light. You were floating off of your chair even as your heart pounded. You must be two feet in the air by now. He already knew what you looked like, but now you cared more than ever what he thought about you. Because you had a massive crush on your classroom pen pal.
"How embarrassing. You drunk emailed him! How are you supposed to respond to this?" you whispered as you closed your laptop and pressed your fingers to your lips. It was hard to tell if his tone was playful or not. He was smiling in the photo, which made you think that he was. But perhaps he was trying to put a stop to any topic of conversation that could be considered personal. 
Then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. No way was this man single. He was handsome. That would have been enough on its own. But he also had an impressive career, all of his hair, and he was tall. And that didn't even scrape the surface of his sweet personality! You couldn't embarrass yourself further. You just couldn't. You wanted him to keep writing to your class, because they were already so attached to him. You couldn't ruin this for them. 
When your students came flooding into the room, they led off with the same question they had every morning now. "Did we get anything in the mail from Lieutenant Bradshaw?"
"Not yet," you replied, still trying to decide how to respond to his photo. "But hopefully soon. He did email another picture though."
All of them were immediately headed for your desk, wanting to see what their pen pal looked like. You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself as you opened up that photo again, and then the kids all interjected into your thoughts.
"His jet is so cool!"
"It's huge!"
"He looks exactly how I thought he would!"
"Can he send us more stuff?"
It took you a good, long while to get them all into their seats. Clearly you weren't the only one who was entranced by him. Their questions overflowed, most of which still had to do with the aviation topics you'd been teaching them. Bradley Bradshaw had turned your classroom upside down, in a good way. And the more you thought about it, the more you just wanted to make sure you weren't missing out on something here. This man was better looking than the last three guys you went out with all combined, and he already made you feel tingly inside before you knew that for a fact.
You went home after work and did it again. You drank some wine and logged into your work email account and wrote back to him less than a day after he wrote to you. Part of you recognized that you'd look desperate, but you simply had to know so you could stop thinking about him if necessary. You started typing. 
It was definitely, absolutely my students who wanted to know what you look like. It had nothing to do with me. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. That being said...nice photo. Very nice.
My kids also wanted me to ask you if your spouse or significant other is in the Navy. And they'd like to know how old your kids are if you have any. Once again, just to be clear, I'm only asking these things on their behalf...
"Send," you whispered, doing it before you could stop yourself. Then you were left with your intrusive thoughts and the rest of the wine, ultimately deciding to just go to bed. He wasn't going to respond right away. He was busy working. You just hoped it didn't take too long. 
But it did. Days passed. You normally tried not to think about your work email account during the weekends, let alone check it. Saturday was miserable as you logged in almost hourly to check and double check if you had something new from Lieutenant Bradshaw. It was so bad, you ended up initiating a movie night with some of your friends, opting to lock your phone in the center console of your car rather than take it into the theater. 
Sunday was no better. You took yourself to the beach for the afternoon to try to read and sunbathe. But there was a group of guys in US NAVY TOP GUN shirts playing football, and you wondered if Bradley ever did this kind of thing with his friends. Or his family. Jesus Christ, why couldn't he just write back and tell you if he had a pretty wife and six adorable kids who loved to play football on the beach with him?
When two of the guys in the TOP GUN shirts purposely threw the football toward your towel and tried to play it off as an accident, you didn't even feel like returning their flirtatious banter. Neither of them had a mustache or soft looking brown hair. Neither of them left you wanting to know more. 
You went home and tried so hard not to check your work email, but you failed miserably. But then you were happy you caved, because he wrote back. Bradley Bradshaw actually responded again. And a few seconds later, you were giggling and trying to control the squeal that escaped your lips.
When the mail arrived on the aircraft carrier yesterday, I was one of the first officers in line, and I wasn't disappointed. I got the second box from your class, and I can't wait to start reading and responding to everyone's notes this week. I'll let you know when you've got more mail coming your way. 
Since your students seem to be showing quite an interest in my personal life, please let them know I actually don't have a spouse or significant other at all. Nor do I have any kids. Their letters (and your emails, too) are the only ones I'm getting this deployment. No one else has been writing to me. Nobody stateside is waiting for me. I hope that answers their questions to your liking.
And now it's your turn to answer a question for me. Is there a guy in your life who is going to try to beat the crap out of me if I tell you that I think you're gorgeous? 
I'll just be waiting impatiently for your response.
Yours Truly,
Lt Bradley Bradshaw
----------------------------
Bradley was so tired. The kind of bone deep exhaustion that only comes after the completion of a dangerous mission when your adrenaline finally wears off. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to be back at home in his bed in San Diego with a soft, warm body next to his and a sweet voice in his ear. But he was picturing your face and your body, already convinced you'd have the sweetest voice he'd ever heard.
Shit. He needed to focus on what the admirals had to say instead of drift into daydreams.
"No need to report to the strategy room in the morning, Lieutenant," his commanding officer said as Bradley unzipped the top of his flight suit. "Take some time to rest."
He saluted the admiral and walked off toward his bunk and a hot shower. But even as the steamy water eased the ache in his muscles, he thought about how he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep right now. Not when he still had a few messages from your students to respond to. Not when those notes always made him smile.
This time you'd only included a very short note in the box, but it wasn't typed up and printed out. It was written in your pretty penmanship on a sheet of lined paper.
Lt Bradshaw,
I hope this package finds you well. Please prepare yourself for approximately seven hundred more questions. Thanks again for sharing your time with us.
He didn't mind one bit. In all actuality, he was living for this shit, already thinking about how he could maybe visit your classroom someday soon. Several of the kids asked him if he could. They all asked him to take more pictures of life on the aircraft carrier. Then he laughed for a solid minute over the photo that Jayden sent of his Cocker Spaniel named Vanessa. 
But Bradley had purposely been neglecting his email inbox for the last few days. He was too afraid to read your words telling him that you were in fact taken, and that he was stupid for thinking you'd been the one who wanted to know what he looked like. He was rather enjoying the delusion that you might let him tell you how pretty he thought you were over email and maybe someday in person. He decided to respond to the rest of the notes in the box before getting rejected, otherwise it would be too hard to do this.
He finished writing back to Oliver and Cooper and then tucked the box away under his bed before drifting off to sleep while dreaming of his own bed. But the next day, he had literally no work to do. He's been given the entire day off. He hit the gym and avoided the married woman like the plague. Then he ate lunch and contemplated going back to the gym again, but his feet carried him to the lounge instead. At the very least, he promised you that he'd let you know when you had mail on the way so the kids could get excited. He should take the time to tell you he'd be sending more responses to your class by air mail.
Somehow Bradley had convinced himself so thoroughly that you were in a relationship, he almost couldn't fathom anything else. But there was a new message from you in his inbox, and it felt like a gift when he opened and read it.
Lt Bradshaw,
I must say, I was surprised to find out that my emails and the letters from my class are the only ones making their way to you. Not that I'm complaining. Not one bit. I just find it hard to believe that you don't have a lot of interested parties hoping for a chance to be the one you think about when you're deployed and all alone.
My last boyfriend didn't like it when I talked about my fourth graders. He didn't really see any value in what I do for a living. He would have never taken the time to read something they wrote let alone answer their questions individually. So no, there's nobody who would be upset with you for making me feel like there are butterflies permanently living in my belly now. If you want to tell me you think I'm gorgeous, I'm certainly not going to stop you.
Here's my personal, non school affiliated email address. Just in case you feel like using it. If not, you can keep responding here, and I can take the hint that we went far enough.
I hope you're doing well and staying safe.
Frantically, Bradley checked the date and time stamp. "Fuck," he growled, his fingers not quite able to keep up with his brain when he realized you'd sent this to him days ago. More than five days ago! "Shit. Fuck!" He had been keeping you waiting! As soon as he got his hands working at the same speed as his thoughts, he copied and pasted your personal email address and started a new thread like his life depended on it.
----------------------------
You were just curling up with a cup of sleepy time tea after a long day at work, wishing someone would put you out of your misery, when your phone vibrated on the couch cushion next to your leg. You were half tempted to ignore it, reasoning that it was probably time to accept the fact that Bradley Bradshaw already lost interest in you and delete his photos from your downloads folder. You should learn how to stop embarrassing yourself.
Then you glanced down and saw that you had a new email. It was from a now familiar sender. It had been sent to your personal account. You immediately scrambled to unlock your phone and read it.
Hey, Gorgeous,
I'd like to take it further.
Yours Truly,
Bradley Bradshaw
-------------------------------
What the fuck, Bradley, you smooth man! Take it further, take it further, take it further! I love how impatient they get when they want to hear from each other. Now go ahead and get a little more personal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who sent me messages and asks about this fic.
PART 4
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fire-emblem-drabbles · 6 months
Text
Pairing: Astarion x reader
Prompt: In which you couldn't convince Astarion not to become the Vampire ascendant, but still do not allow him to do the ritual.
Description: You really did fall so hard, and so, so fast. No wonder when the ground came to meet you did it hurt just as much. But perhaps its not too late to stand back up again, if someone was willing to lend a hand.
Rating: sfw
Content Warning: hurt/comfort
Word Count: 3018
Notes: I had to save scum this so much on my file that was romancing him. And well I be thinking about him a lot lately... I litterally have no idea where these words came from btw so I hope u enjoy them!
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“It’s over,” Said with such disdain, such pain and hurt, directed your way. “I’m done with this, and I’m done with you.” Venom, dripping and cold. What happened to the warmth in those eyes? To the love that once shown in them, when he looked your way? “I would say good luck out there, but honestly? I hope you die screaming.” He looked so broken, so hurt.
You hardly remembered what came next, beyond your own tears. Astarion simply… left. Walk away as you crumpled to the ground, in disbelief. As you begged him to say. When you told him, over and over again, that you loved him.
Karlach and Shadowheart must have dragged you out of those dungeons, otherwise you might still be there, wallowing in your pity. You don’t remember how long it had been since then. Since you had stopped Cazador from ascending, freed Astarion from his grasp… and tried to convince him not to ascend himself. Your words may have failed, but your actions didn’t; you didn’t let him use your eyes to copy his scars. You couldn’t.
All for him to walk away.
You hadn’t really been the same, since then. Where once you were the leader of your little ragtag group of adventurers, now you couldn’t find it in you to leave your tent. Well… Astarion’s tent, actually. You never had one of your own. And when the two of you got together, it just seemed natural to share.
Gale had taken over in leading everyone for day to day adventuring on your behalf. Even though you wished it, the world would not slow down because you were hurt. No kindness spared on your broken, broken heart. Yet you couldn’t stop wondering where you went wrong. Were the two of you not as close as you thought? Could you have been more convincing, hell, more intimidating, anything to have kept him by your side?
You think, right now, it’s night. Your candle’s are all stuffed out, the bustle of the streets beyond are quiet, and you can’t hear the patter and stomps of Scratch and the owlbear cub playing around camp. Your tears have all but dried, even if your sorrow remains as fresh as a new wound. No, all is silent in this moment.
You take a deep breath. Yes, it would be best to sleep. Maybe tomorrow, you would wake up and feel like a person again. One who could attend to all her duties. And maybe even get back on the path to save Baldur’s gate.
But sleep never comes for those whose hearts are so heavy. This isn’t the first night you’ve lied awake, thoughts wondering. All for the better, perhaps-- because in the heavy quiet of the cities dark night, you hear the flap of your tent open with the utmost quietness. And you, just as quiet, sit up from your laying position. Who ever has invaded your space must have dark vision, for they pause upon seeing your form and do not move an inch.
“I can see you there.” Your voice comes out, gravelly and rough. You don’t sense your in danger, though, even as your heart beats and pounds in your chest. Who would be stupid enough to steal from a camp full of adventurers, with an owlbear lurking around no less. Still, with some trepidation, you cast the cantrip for light, and watch as your messy tent (and new guest) are bathed in cool, blue light.
“Oh,” Is all you think to say. You can’t really trust your eyes, so you rub the days of built up sleep and sorrow from them. No, you can’t even speak his name as you stare upon him. But you dare not look away. Even if it was a dream, it was him. It was him.
“...You’re a mess.” His words are soft, quiet. He seems to relax a little when he sees you make no movement.
“...I suppose I am.” You clear your throat a little after speaking, if only because a new lump seems to be forming now that you look to him. “How… how can I help you, Astarion?”
“Gods…” He heaves a heavy sigh, looking over your pitiful form. “I’ve hurt you this much, and you still think to help me? Are you stupid?” He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Perhaps.” You nod softly. “Stupid enough to fall in love with you, after all.” You can only smile weakly at him.
“I came here too…” He frowns, looking away from you for a moment. “Well it doesn’t matter why I came back. You clearly need some sense knocked back into you.” With that, he moves in closer to you. Surprised, you move in a little in order to accommodate him. You try to ignore the beating of your heart, ignore the hope that rises within you like a phoenix from its ashes.
“What… are you going to do?” You turn to him, nestled into your side like he might have been not too long ago.
“Talk, as terrible as that sounds.” He keeps his gaze down, looking at the messed up bedding.
“Talk?” You repeat. “I thought you… didn’t want to see me again.”
“Well, that was then. This is now.” Astarion looks to you. To the bags built up under your eyes. Your cheeks, still rosy and sensitive with just how many tears you’ve shed (for him, no less). Your hair is unkempt and as gross as you are, all he can see is someone that loves him… “I… said and did some terrible things during that ritual. Things that… looking back, I may not have done were I in the right head space.” He swallows hard. “I was… scared. And the promise of power, the smell of blood… it was all so intoxicating, I forgot myself there for a moment.”
The two of you sit in the silence a moment, festering in it. Words dance on the tip of your tongue but Astarion isn’t done speaking. He, too, needs a moment to compose himself. “But… you never forgot who I was.” He looks to you, something soft, something sad, something gentle written into the contours of his face. Even as he turns to you, he struggles to meet your eyes-- shining, glimmering, with something sweet and promising and loving in them. Something that he doesn’t deserve; not after the actions he took that day.
“You did everything in your power to convince me what I was doing was wrong, but all I could see then was the security that power could bring me.” He closes his eyes, taking a sharp intake of air though his nose. “I was so blinded, I could not see that with you by my side, I was the happiest I’ve ever been these past 200 years…” As he opens his eyes, he looks down to his folded hands, then over to yours. You realize that even if he is so close… Astarion hesitates to touch you. Maybe he felt as if he wasn’t allowed to do so any more, or perhaps felt he was no longer worthy… Whatever the reason, it breaks your heart just a little bit more.
“I… see.” It’s a lot to soak up. That in the moment, you couldn’t reach him but in the days sense Astarion has realized… maybe this was for the better.
“You saved me from becoming the very man I lived in fear of, and all I gave you in return was heartbreak.” He seeks your eyes, his own wide and wet and you realize he’s crying now. Tears flood your eyes as well, because he was right; you cared for him so much, though, it almost didn’t seem to matter. Almost. “How can I ever expect you to forgive me?” With that, he breaks, closing his eyes roughly and crying out, sobbing into his own hands.
All you can do in that moment is cry with him. Two, love sick idiots broken and hurt but not beyond mending-- not yet.
“It’s okay,” You find yourself struggling to say the words, even as you usher him into your arms and hold him. He does not hesitate to hold you in turn, to cry unto you as you into him. “We’ll be okay, I promise, I promise.” Your words come out as prayer as you hold him close. “Just don’t leave again, please!”
“I won’t, I won’t.” Astarion seems to compose himself more quickly than you do, but he does not let go, even as you know your tears stain his shirt. “I’ve got you and I won’t leave you ever again.” He rubs his hand along your back slowly, doing his best to try and comfort you in the same way you have for him in the past. It’s a long moment before you feel yourself begin to breathe normally again, before your tears once again dry and you find yourself staring into his red eyes once more.
“I love you,” Your words are softer than a whisper, said with a trembling smile.
“I love you too.” Astarion responds in kind, resting his forehead against yours. You two stay content a moment before he speaks again. “But you’re disgusting-- let me take care of you.” He pulls away from you and your left no room to argue. You merely blink, owlishly, as he pulls back. He moves to stand but you grab his hand.
“Where are you going?” You hold on to him with both hands now, and he has to pause to take the sudden fear on your face. Astarion had planned to leave to return with a little wash bin and rag but seeing you so distraught makes him pause. Of course, the last time he walked away from you he didn’t return…
“We’re going to get you cleaned up.” With a bit of a struggle, Astarion gets you to rise to your feet next to him. “Don’t make it more difficult than it has to be.” He adds. You nod slowly, still a little on edge from the panic that just flooded your system but nonetheless, trusting Astarion.
So, with the difficulty that comes with only having one hand, Astarion pins open the flaps of the tent (your light cantrip soon goes out as well, but the inside is illuminated but the torchlight of your camp). Some of the stale air you had been living in gets to escape, and you’re able to take a fresh breath of air you hadn’t realized you needed.
Astarion gathers his wash bin, and the rag, and with you in tow, rummages through that the travelers chest you seem to toss anything and everything into. But, avoiding unmatched boots and careful not to prick himself on all the arrows that are in there (and trying not to think about how they were likely dumped in there after he left), he finds what he was looking for-- some soap. And though the water is cold, and the night is cool, at least with a little bit of soap and his careful hand, it’s not all bad.
“You need to wash these clothes too,” Astarion huffs. “I know you have other things, so let’s get you into something cleaner.” You’re guided back into your shared tent (which is already starting to smell better, but the scented water is helping as well) while Astarion rifles though your clothing. Here together again, you finally let go of his hand but stay close to him.
“Thank you…” You pause, watching him pick out something comfortable and warm. “I can take care of myself, though.” You add, taking the clothing from him.
“I’m sure you can-- but I want to take care of you.” He doesn’t let go of your clothing as you try and take it. “So, let me.” His gaze flicks up to your eyes and you’re surprised to see him look so stubborn.
“Oh,” You let go of the clothing, surprised. “I… That would be nice.” You say it quietly, still too caught up in him being here, being real and touching you, loving you.
“Now, out of the nasty clothing, if you would.” He persists, grabbing the hem of your current shirt. He pauses before lifting it though, looking to your face. “That is, if you’re okay with me…” he trails, unsure.
“It’s you, so it’s okay.” You assure him. You raise your hands so he can take off the offending, stinky shirt, and toss it aside. Next, he removes your pants, tossing them the same direction.
“This might be a little cold,” Astarion tells you, but it doesn’t stop the flinch (nor the shiver) as the cool rag touches your skin. Still, his touch is delicate and careful.
He first wipes your face (part of it, still covered in blood and dirt from that same battle). He dips and wrings out the rag, before continuing his work. Your chest, your arms, legs-- all of you, gently washed and cared for. You realize this is the first time he’s been so intimate with you in a non sexual way. It’s… nice. To see his brow furrowed in concentration, have his hands upon you just hold you. It’s not like the two of you went entirely without touching one another in that time, but to have him initiating it, warms you.
“Now, back in your clothing before you catch a cold.” You nod at him and smile, sliding on the familiar pants and shirt with comfort and ease.
“I already feel a lot better, thank you.” He smiles softly, but sits you back down.
“Just let me attend to this rats nest, and we can be done.” Astarion reaches for his comb, and sits beside you. “Lean back so I can wet your hair,” He guides you down, with your head over the basin, and cups his hand to gather water before wetting your hair.
You let his work quietly, until your hair is wet and he can begin working out the knots starting at the ends. When the comb runs freely to your hair, he grabs the soap and carefully massages it into your scalp, scratching here in there. You let out a sigh in content, and Astarion can’t help but smile softly.
He was still shocked that you even talked to him-- let alone let him touch you. But the two of you needed this. To hold and be held, to love and let go. He truly was a fool to ever think he could be without you. But he was lucky, then, that you were fool enough to let him back in.
With your hair washed, combed, and dried and the water dumped and wash bin put aside, Astarion let you sit back up and look at him. “So… what happens next?” You ask softly.
“Well… I’m not sure.” He admits. “I didn’t think you would forgive me so… I hadn’t really thought much beyond that.”
“I suppose we get our rest, then.” You heave a heavy sigh. “I know I’ve taken enough time off from adventuring… And you have some friends who deserve an explanation as well.”
“More talking?” Astarion groans softly, but makes no move to leave your side as you lie down and tug him with you. “But… you are right.”
“You’ll be okay.” You give him a good, full body squeeze. “Everyone here cares for you. They’ll be willing to hear you out.”
“Perhaps only with you by my side.” He lets out a little chuckle. “But… that’s not such a bad thing.” He readjusts in your grasp, snuggling close and turning towards you. “Rest well, darling.” He kisses the top of your head, and smiles down at your sleepy expression.
“I will, now that you’re here…” It didn’t take long for sleep to find you, wound up in Astarion’s arms. You hadn’t slept so well in days, and who was he to wake you when you looked so peaceful…? It seemed like time passed so quickly with you in his arms, and before long he could hear the sounds of everyone else waking in camp.
Astarion couldn’t help but grow anxious as footsteps grew closer to the tent. “Solider, you in there?” Karlach’s voice called out. “I know you haven’t been very hungry lately, but I brought you some breakfast…” Unable to do anything to stop her, Astarion watched as Karlach pokes her head into the tent. With the morning light, they could only stare at one another a moment.
“Shh, just let them sleep a while longer…” Astarion turned from Karlach, and brushed some stray hairs from your face. “When they’re ready to wake up, I’ll… I’ll be ready to.” He turns from you, back to Karlach, a look of surprise and glee on her face.
“Right! Right… I’ll be quiet!” She gives him a little thumbs up and quickly retreats from the tent. But… Astarion can hear Karlach, even if she is all the way across camp. First, she tells Jaheira, then Minsc, and Minthara and Lae’zel overhear… Then Wyll, Shaodowheart and Halsin of course overhear and then Gale finds out, and now the whole camp is aware that he’s back here even if they are being remarkable polite about it….
Still, it brings a smile on his face. To know they were so excited to see him again (maybe even if it was only to see you happy again) was a comforting thought. To be among friends… That was something truly special indeed.
“Astarion…?” You wake slowly, eyes barely open as you look to him, hold him a little tighter.
“I’m here,” Astarion assures you, giving you a squeeze in return.
“Good…” You close your eyes and cuddle back into him, letting out a small yawn. “Let’s stay alone for just a little longer yet.”
“That can be arranged.” He can’t help but smile, and relax into you. Everyone else could wait a little longer yet-- you deserved what ever you wanted in this moment. And if that happened to be him, well, Astarion was in no place to say no.
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I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take
Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking
Vox
(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).
Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)
(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)
I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.
Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.
That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.
So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.
If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.
It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.
His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.
Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.
If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.
(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)
Valentino
Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).
It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.
I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)
After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)
He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.
He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.
He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.
Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.
It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.
Alastor
This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.
It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.
He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.
Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.
If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).
Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.
Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.
Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.
He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.
Lucifer
It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.
When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.
Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.
Get this man a work schedule!
Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.
At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.
Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.
You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.
Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.
Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.
Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.
He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.
You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.
"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.
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mrpenguinpants · 1 year
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Please go out with me for tax benefits!
— When you randomly pointed to a handsome man and declared him to be your boyfriend, you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just wanted a couples discount!
— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha
-> Part 2: Overdue Bills [Masterlist]
This was originally written for my upcoming "Help me break my engagement by marrying me instead." fic but I got carried away and it became too plot-heavy. So I made a new one. Most of these have nothing to do with money, I just thought the title was funny.
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Alhaitham
You blame Kaveh for this. This is entirely his fault and you will not be convinced otherwise. If he hadn't opened his big mouth to Alhaitham about the fact you've been spouting that he was your boyfriend, then you wouldn't be in this mess. It wasn't even that serious, it's not like you were actually emotionally invested with the man and this was all a delusional dream. You barely knew the guy aside from the multiple rumors about him in the first place. You just needed to access some limited-edition books for your thesis and his name happened to be the easiest way to get ahold of them. Sure, you may be lying to authority for the better half of a year about your relationship with the scribe, but it's not your fault they didn't ask questions. If you happened to threaten to tell your very scary and very influential "boyfriend" about this "mistreatment", that's just a byproduct if anything. But now you have a very irritated silver-haired man crowding into your personal space asking why the hell you're announcing to the world that you're both in a relationship. It's creepy. He called you creepy. Is this where you roll over and die in shame?
You swear you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just happened to spot him in the background while the librarian was giving you a hard time and your dumb brain-to-mouth filter was taking a break that day. So you just blurted that you were Alhaitham's partner and that he would be very upset to hear that you were being treated this way. It's not completely far-fetched, Alhaitham seems like a very, very, private person and on the off chance you were telling the truth? Well, the poor librarian didn't want to lose her job. Besides, it's not like you were planning on doing anything illegal and you don't think you're the absolute worst person to be fake-dating.
By some stroke of luck, or maybe he felt too much pity for you, Alhaitham decides to cut you a deal rather than get you kicked out of the Akademiya. He gets multiple love letters, confessions, and heart-eyed individuals trailing after him all the time. Frankly, he's getting tired of it and since you've already taken the liberty, he won't say anything if you don't say anything. Though he makes it clear that if you ever do anything embarrassing, you're taking the fall and he's going to pretend he doesn't know you. A bit harsh but that's only a safety net. Plus it's not like you actually want to date him so he wouldn't have any commitments. The added bonus is that since he's well-known for having a...rough personality, you don't need to act affectionately with the man or go the extra mile. As long as you have each other's backing, you'll get to check out any textbook you want for free and he gets to be left alone. So for both your benefits, to the rest of the Akademiya you and him are a couple.
You should have known this deal was way too good to be true. As soon as people hear that Alhaitham acknowledges that you're his partner, they're on you like rabid fungi. In comparison to the scribe, you're far easier to prod and poke for any gossip and your quiet day-to-day life is suddenly thrown into the wind. Multiple people a day come to bother you about what it's like to date the moody man. It gets to a point where you have to actually dress incognito just to go and get some coffee. Seriously, didn't people have deadlines and exams to prepare for then to hound you down to talk about your fake love life? Alhaitham is no help either, only shrugging off your complaints and telling you that this is what you agreed to.
He's a horrible partner, fake or not. This isn't your storybook romance where he suddenly falls in love with you, he straight up ignores you sometimes! If anything, this entire situation has stopped you from feeling intimidated by him. Before you wouldn't dare approach him, his appearance and body were enough for you to shy away. You're impulsive, not blind. Alhaitham is drop-dead gorgeous but now that you've reached such an absurd situation it stops intimidating you. You begin to regularly pester the man because you know that even though you're both not actually dating, it would look really bad if he shunned you constantly.
He actually doesn't mind you. Unlike Kaveh or anyone else who interacts with him, you know how to be quiet and independent. Most of the time you both sit in silence, the only noise between the two of you being the flipping of pages and the scratching of ink against paper. If you ever do speak, it's always with a purpose. It's just a bonus that while everyone stares at your table, no one ever approaches. If they need to speak with him, they see your body right next to him and they decide to come back at a later time when he's alone.
Over time, he finds himself seeking you out instead of the other way around. He's come to find your presence comforting and it's the only time when he can actually sit down and read. Being an observant person, he starts to notice your little habits. For one, touch seems to be how you interact with others. You always bump elbows whenever you greet him, pinching his half coat whenever you want to drag him to see whatever captured your attention, and nudging his arm with your hand whenever you need him to bend down so you can whisper something into his ear. He's honestly surprised and concerned that he doesn't push you away with your skinship. If it were anyone else, he would have sent them a sharp glare and pushed him off but he doesn't for you.
All things must come to an end eventually and you've finally finished writing the last sentences for your thesis. Your pat on the back is the firm shut of a book as a deep sigh escapes your lips. Tired but relieved. The goodbye is uneventful, you simply tell him that you don't need him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he's free to live out the single life. He just nods and with that, you're gone.
No one says anything when they notice that Alhaithem sits at a table alone for the nth time that week. There are a few whispers back and forth about how you either got fed up with this attitude or he realized that he was way out of your league. Either way, everyone assumes you and Alhaithem are no longer together and his routine before you arrived settles back in. Yet, he feels off. He refuses to call it longing, you both were hardly affectionate in the first place, but he feels a bit lonely without your presence beside him. it's been plaguing his mind ever since you packed your things and left. He's hardly been able to concentrate on his book, rereading the same sentence for the fourth time before snapping it shut. Letting out a deep sigh, he runs a hand through his hair before setting it against his closed eyes. What's gotten into him?
"Is this seat taken?"
His eyes shoot open, turning around to see you with an armful of books looking expectantly at him. You look nervous and he can't lie to himself that he doesn't find that just the slightest bit endearing. He can tell that you're struggling to carry all of them from the slight shake in your hands.
"I thought our deal was over?" he says this but he gets up anyways to take the books out of your hands and places them on the table. You just roll your eyes at him because of course that's what he would say first and push forward. You're probably the only one who would act so brazenly in front of him besides Kaveh but he doesn't find it irritating when you do it.
"What? So I need to be in a relationship with you just to sit at a table? I know your ego is big but not thattt big," you stretch your words as you settle comfortably into your seat.
He wonders when he started thinking of that specific chair as yours.
"No. I suppose not," he says with an exasperated smile as he sits back down. You beam back at him as you shuffle your chair closer to him as you open your textbook, your fingertips gave that familiar tug for him to lean in closer.
"Good, because I need some help with this section. I have no idea what the hell "bloom" is."
Ayato
Although Valentine's day was mostly celebrated in Mondstadt and Sumeru, Inazuma still liked to dabble in the festivities during the day of love. Various couples' discounts on tricolored Dango or limited edition books from the Yae Publishing House. There was one popular series in particular that was having a huge discount to celebrate the holiday and even though you weren't in the market for a partner, you weren't going to pass up on such a steal. Only for your excitement to fall flat when the lady informed you that the discount was for couples only.
You can't believe this. You just stood in line for hours only for them to tell you this now? What kind of shady place was this? Of course, they didn't advertise the specifics of this sale, they knew this book was popular. People waiting in line wouldn't just walk away once they found out and they would end up paying full price! Well, two can play this game. You randomly gesture off to the side, saying that your boyfriend was just standing off to the side because he wanted to grab some refreshments. You aren't really looking where you're pointing, too busy digging through your pouch and counting your coins of mora before a sharp gasp stops you. The lady quickly bows and beams at you with a mega-watt customer service smile. She hands the book to you free of charge while profusely thanking you for your patronage. You look off to the side but you don't see anyone, but you weren't going to say no, so you shrug and take it. A free book is a free book.
To be fair, you were making it really easy for the Archons to mess with you. You hear whispers around you that you can't make out, anytime you glance at passing people, they quickly bow and shuffle along. You have a horrible sinking feeling forming in the pit of your stomach and you quickly rush home so you can avoid whatever the hell you just caused. Unfortunately, word travels fast in Inazuma, and every shop you pass by you're being confronted left and right with sales pitches and gifts of appreciation for your partner's hard work. All of which you decline, half of it because you're not actually in a relationship and the other half because you have no interest in their gifts. But you've already dug yourself this far in your grave so you just give a hasty no thank you as you try and dodge everyone who looks at you with that glimmer in their eyes. Who did you point at to receive this much praise?
Ayato is greatly confused when people approach him to congratulate him on his engagement. He wasn't planning on getting married any time soon, his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner taking up most of this time. Did the elders set someone up for him without informing him first? He's curious about who his mystery person is but everyone he asks doesn't seem to know where they went. Apparently, his fiancee is shy but humble, declining gifts from various shopkeepers no matter how expensive they are.
That's until one of the children points in your direction and his eyes slide over to you who looks just as confused as him. He's never seen you in his life and you don't look like anyone from a significant clan. He gets clued in that you boldly announced your relationship with him when you were checking out a specific book meant for couples only. Ah, he's starting to understand now. He offers a piece of candy for the helpful information as he makes his way over to you. His mysterious fiancee.
As soon as the man in front of you says Lord Kamisato's name, the uneasy weight in your stomach drops. You quickly spin on your heel to see the pale blue hair and amused light purple eyes. Oh. Oh, Archon's above, please, out of everyone you could have pointed to, please don't make it be the Yashiro Commissioner. You're about to burn this book into ashes and do a ceremony to banish whatever youkai were stored within the pages if you manage to make it out of this alive.
If Ayato was upset about this situation he's found himself in, it would be immediately wiped away because you look like you're about to collapse. He's trying his best to not laugh at your torment right in front of you, but the mix of emotions that's so openly displayed on your face is making it hard. It's obvious that you didn't mean for this to happen, you've just tripped and fallen into a web of misunderstandings. Too entangled to explain yourself without making a fool out of yourself.
If looks could kill, this storekeeper would be dead on the floor twice over. This man calls out to the Yashiro Commissioner, and just to add salt to the wound, proudly congratulates him on his engagement with you. You said nothing about an engagement, you're far too young to be thinking about that thank you very much. But Ayato just nods along with that ever-pleasant smile without bothering to correct the situation. You're not sure if you should be thankful or not. He might be planning your murder in his mind so you stay silent as well.
When Ayato's gaze shifts to you, you do what any creature does when they're in danger and there's nowhere to run. You hide. You automatically raise your book to cover your face so you don't need to look at the source of your embarrassment. Although it does nothing to hide just how red your face is, you don't see him and that's good enough for you. But this also means you don't see the questioning glance the storekeeper shoots Ayato about your behavior, to which Ayato gives a pleasant smile and waves a hand to dismiss the situation.
"Please excuse my fiancee, we didn't mean to announce our engagement so early," Ayato muses, and the storekeeper nods in understanding while you bring your book down low enough to peer over the edges of the pages. Is...is he covering for you? He looks down expectantly at you but when you don't move, he awkwardly coughs into his fist and tilts his head toward the shopkeeper.
"A-Ah yes, that's right! It was a slip of the tongue and I hadn't realized I said it out loud. Please excuse my behavior," you bow and you can hear Ayato turning his head to snort into his hand. This is awful. You think you would prefer if he just outted you so you didn't need to show the world how awful your acting skills are. This is why you read plays, not star in them. But the shopkeeper nods in understanding, apologizing for saying your engagement so loud for others to hear before you're leaving with Ayato's arm wrapped around your waist.
"I'm deeply sorry. There was a discount for couples only and I just pointed in a random direction and it just happened to land on you. I swear I didn't mean to start any of this," you quickly rush out as you bow before Ayato as soon as you're out of sight from the public eye. He still has that annoying look in his eyes but you're completely at his mercy right now. The smug bastard definitely knows that.
"It's no trouble at all. I found the situation quite entertaining," he chuckles before looking you up and down. Okay...a tiny bit weird but you suppose your actions are worse. There's a long silence between the two of you as if he's pondering something and you've had enough of today's events.
"Um...well if that's everything I'll be getting out of your hair. Please enjoy the rest of your day Lord Kamisato," you mumble as you turn to leave but his hand hooks onto the back of your kimono and drags you right back.
"Ah, ah. It would make a bad impression if my fiancee suddenly left me on Valentine's Day. Oh and please, call me Ayato," he smiles that same polite smile but his eyes tell a different story entirely. His smile even widens at how hard you're biting your lip as you match his with a strained one. For Archon's sake, you just wanted to buy a book, how did you get into this mess?!
Kazuha
As soon as Inazuma's borders reopened, you were jumping on the fastest ship back to Liyue. You even got extra lucky that your good friend Beidou happened to be on the pier and offered you a well-deserved ride back to your home free of charge. You've been so homesick but unable to leave due to the regulation the Electro Archon placed, so to say that you were excited to finally go back was an understatement. Although the Crux Fleet was mainly an armed carrier delivering goods between places separated by sea, it did occasionally transport passengers if they paid enough. It only made sense that others would be like you and wish to return home as soon as possible. It's too bad that one of them happened to take one look at you and decide that you were born to be his.
It's an incredibly awkward affair. This wealthy businessman doesn't appear to mean any harm but he's incredibly dense with no sense of social awareness. Although you've politely declined his advances, he doesn't seem to stop. Even when Beidou herself threatens to throw the man overboard, he just keeps his distance and makes heart eyes at you. Unfortunately for you, Beidou can't actually throw him into the cruel watery depths no matter how much you plead with her. The man seems to be an important figure from Snezhnaya so she can't exactly treat him badly. Thus you spend most of your time ducking away and running away from your creepy admirer.
You're usually not so bold but the mix of overwhelming homesickness and just wanting to get this journey over and done with, all of it compels you to act rashly. If your new admirer can't take a simple no then you'll find a different way and show him you're off limits. You've seen the man who sits on the crow's nest, you believe Beidou said his name was Kazuha, whose been a part of her crew for a while now. You've only made passing small talk with each other and he seems like a nice person, at least you hope so. Because as soon as his feet touch the ship's deck, you're throwing yourself at him. You have to give him credit, he has lightning-fast reflexes and is a lot stronger than his demeanor expresses since he manages to catch you and stop you both from sprawling across the floor.
You make a show of throwing your arms around him and whining about how he doesn't spend enough time with poor dear you. You can tell he's infinitely confused so you lean in and whisper into his ear about your creepy stalker who can't take a no. Your eyes desperately plead with him to play along with you, just until the ship reaches Liyue Harbour. It only takes Kazuha to look over your shoulder and lock gazes with said "stalker" before he's turning to you with the most tender smile on his lips and a soft apology for being neglectful. A promise to spend more quality time to make up for his behavior. You swear that should have been an omen because you feel your heart stop for a second right then and there.
It's not completely out there. As the lookout, he would have to stay up in the crow's nest most of the day, and given how soft spoken Kazuha normally is, he doesn't look like the confrontational type. But he does make good on his fake promise and you find yourself spending most of your time in the crow's nest with Kazuha rather than ducking into the shadows of the lower deck. Kazuha is a relaxing presence and you can understand why he stays up here rather than with the rest of the crew. The gentle sea breeze brushes through your hair and it's so peaceful all the way up in the sky. You're almost jealous that he has an anemo vision because you think you'd love to stay in the winds forever.
He's also a gentleman through and through. You're not entirely sure if he's just pretending alongside you or if that's just how he normally acts. You think both options are equally plausible and endearing. At some point, you forget that you're supposed to be doing this for show to keep a creepy man away from you and you genuinely start to seek him out. It's during one night when you watch Kazuha whistle a tune through a leaf that you realize just how deep you're in. Now your position is reversed and you start to feel like the creepy heart-eyed stalker. It's something that you must absolutely not let happen, not on your watch.
Your sudden distance from Kazuha leaves him a bit hurt. He knows that this originally started as an act but he felt that you and him were getting close to each other without any ulterior motives. That all your talks of your dreams and aspiration were real and meaningful. But now that you've suddenly pulled back, he question's if everything was made up in his head. It's not like you owe him anything, he decided to help you out from of his own volition. Beidou can only look at this scene painfully at her two idiotic friends pushing themselves away from each other because they can't sit down and talk it out.
She drags the two of you into a private room, her only warning to fix your emotional angst or she really will throw you both overboard. You both know she's entirely serious so you both obediently nod as she slams the door closed.
Beidou leans against the wooden crates with her head propped up with her arm. She should probably stop watching, she's being far too nosy with her friend's love life, but what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't? She hopes you both managed to talk it out and realize that you're both crushing hard on each other. She had been far too busy with Liyue fastly approaching to check in on your progress but from the looks of things, she thinks everything went well. With the red cheeks and your fingertips linked together, it's so cute that she wants to gag on her wine. Don't get her wrong, she's happy for you and Kazuha, but any more of this puppy love is going to send her into an early grave.
"You're not going to stay in Liyue?" she overhears you say. Huh? She honestly thought that Kazuha might pitch a tent and finally settle down with you but the small shake of his head and your fallen expression says otherwise. Damn, talk about a heartbreaker. But he gives you a soft expression, something really vulnerable, and his hand comes up to caress your cheek- and that's her cue to turn away. That's something that even she knows she shouldn't be watching. She instead takes another swig of her cup.
"Captain."
She looks up to see Kazuha standing beside her, the air of nature and sea breeze clinging to him wherever he goes. She politely doesn't bring up the charm clutched tightly in his hands.
"You sure about this kid?" Beidou asks, her eyes still trained on her empty cup of booze. She doesn't need to look to know that he's watching your back disappear into the crowd longingly.
"If I try to force something I know I'm not ready to finish, it would only lead to disaster. Right now isn't the right time. But I'm sure in the future, our paths will cross again," Kazuha nods to himself solemnly. This time Beidou does look at him before she shows a fond smile herself before she brings her arm back and slaps it against Kazuha's back. It's loud and hard enough to jolt him out of his temporary sadness.
"If you ever need a ride back to Liyue, just let me know. We'll get you there in no time lover boy," Beidou grins cheekily as Kazuha flushes a bright red. How cute, he can't even be honest with himself huh?
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ellecdc · 19 days
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heyy Elle, could you please write poly!moonchaser × reader where Remus is hurting physically because of the full moon (either before and after) and reader and James take care of him and comfort him
our sweet moonchaser <333 thanks for your request lovie
please note: my requests are currently closed as I finish exams and work through the requests that I currently have.
poly!moonchaser x fem!reader who checks in on them after the moon
This was silly; what were you so afraid of?
Okay, perhaps afraid wasn’t the right word, but the way your hands were sweating and your heart was racing (and your thoughts were spiralling) would suggest otherwise.
You had been with Remus and James for about two months before Remus finally shared his secret with you.
You couldn’t deny that you had a hunch - you’d been friends with the boys for a few years now and were aware that Remus has some kind of affliction that caused him issues approximately once a month that James and the other two Marauders seemed to help him with. That, along with the fact that you were very good at astronomy and tracking moon cycles (which was also very useful in Herbology), it didn’t come as a complete surprise when he admitted to you that he was a werewolf. 
You were glad he had told you, and though he had given you the chance then to ask him any questions you may have had, you only told him you were glad he trusted you.
Now, though? Now you wished you had asked more questions.
Like what the hell were you supposed to do after full moons now?
Before he had told you, he would fall ill for about three days around the end of the moon cycle, and though you would see James in class the day after, he would scurry back to his room citing that he didn’t want you to get sick and was going to go check in on Remus. 
And that had been fine.
Because like you said, you had a hunch.
But now…
Now that you knew, it seemed rude not to check in on him, right?
It would be rude to wait around for your afflicted boyfriend to come and find you after going through relative hell and back, wouldn’t it?
So…you braved yourself to check in on the boys in the infirmary. 
Except Madame Pomfrey had informed you that Remus had been allowed to return to his dorm to rest.
And then you nearly lost your nerve again.
Get it together. You scolded yourself. Those boys would likely love a visit.
And even if they weren’t up for a visit, you had brought some chocolate for Rem; perhaps you could leave them with Sirius or Peter.
You crawled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room to an unusually (and frankly disturbingly) quiet sight. 
Sirius was lounging sloppily on the three-seater sofa with a book in his hands as Peter sat on a cushion by the fire playing a game of exploding snap with Marlene.
“Hey Sirius.” You said quietly as you approached the long-haired boy. He looked up at your voice and his surprised expression turned into a salacious one.
“Hello there gorgeous, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Peter snorted, though he never moved his attention from his game. “You’re lucky Prongs and Moony aren’t down here; you’d have been walloped good for hitting on their girl.”
Sirius scoffed in faux derision. “That’s what they get for kicking me out of my own dorm, Wormy.”
You felt your face blanche at the fact that even Sirius wasn’t allowed upstairs. What would make you any different?
Stupid girl.
“Come to see your boys?” Sirius continued, unawares of your inner turmoil. 
“Erm,” You started awkwardly, looking down at the silly box of Honeydukes chocolates in your hand. “I just came to drop this off; maybe you can give it to Rem for me?” 
Sirius’ teasing expression softened when he looked down at the box you were holding out to him.
“Sorry doll. Like I said, I’ve been banished. You’d have better luck delivering them yourself.”
You tried (and failed) to hide your grimace as you looked towards the stairs to the boys dorm. “I wouldn’t want to bother them.” You admitted shyly. 
“You misunderstand, L/N.” Marlene commented. “He’s a bother.” She explained, pointing a manicured finger accusatively as Sirius. “They’d probably cream their pants if you walked in right now.”
“Ew.” You, Peter, and Sirius chorused.
“She’s right though.” Peter agreed, grimacing at Marlene for her rather uncouth comment before turning to look at you. “Pad’s is the only one who was thoroughly banished from the room; I’m only down here because I didn’t feel like third-wheeling.”
“Yeah, I wonder why he was banished.” Marlene muttered sarcastically as she returned to their card game.
“Why were you banished?” You queried, causing Sirius to roll his eyes.
“They accused me of being a menace.” He drawled; the end of his sentence punctuated by a small explosion on the opposite side of the common room which covered a few third year Gryffindor’s in a fluorescent blue powder. 
Sirius - gods love him - didn’t even flinch as he held your eye contact “I never said the accusations were unfounded.”
“Go on; check on your lover boys.” Marlene encouraged, shooting you a wink.
You took in a shaky breath and offered them all a smile before making your way upstairs. 
Trying to be as quiet as possible, you knocked gently on the door alerting the boys to your presence before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
You could make out two forms curled up on Remus’ bed. James’ back was turned towards you as his slightly wider frame curled protectively around Remus’.
James turned to look over his shoulder at the disruption with an expression far more stern than you think you’ve ever seen on him, but it softened astronomically when he realised who had entered.
“Hi there!” He whispered brightly, causing Remus to stir. “I was just about to tell Pads to get fucked; this is a nice surprise.” He said as he extricated himself from Remus’ bed and began to make for you. 
“Who is it?” Remus’ voice could be heard muffled through the blankets he was holding over his head. 
“It’s your dovey, Moons.” James said as he pulled you into his chest and pressed a kiss into your hair. 
Remus sat up - likely too quickly in his current state - to see for himself.
“Hi lovie.” He whispered in awe; as if seeing you was some miraculous feat.
“Hi Rem. I’m sorry to bug you, I just wanted to-”
“No!” Both boys interrupted you, causing James to laugh.
“No, you’re no bother; of course not. Com’ere.” He said as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and opened his arms as an invitation for you.
Not needing to be told twice, you accepted his embrace and he pulled you into his lap.
“I won’t stay long.” You whispered up at him as James joined him beside the bed to look down at you.
“Please do.” He whispered back. He looked okay, if not extremely tired; he didn’t seem to have any new scars from what you could see, and he was clearly in good enough spirits to entertain you.
“He’s likely getting tired of spending time with just me.” James explained solemnly.
“He’s a coddler.”
“Are you really?” You asked James. 
James rolled his eyes and shook his head good-naturedly. “Listen, once a month I get to fuss over this sweet man; you best believe I take full advantage.”
You hummed in understanding and looked back at Remus. “You’re always so busy taking care of everyone else; it makes sense you wouldn’t know what to do when someone returns the favour.” You explained, fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt. 
“Is that why you’re here, Angel?” James said as he tickled your neck teasingly. “You here to take care of him?”
You pushed his hand away and handed Remus the box of chocolates. “I was just bringing you chocolate.”
Remus looked as though you had just handed him a key to the city and not a measly box of chocolates.
“Thank you dovey.” He said earnestly as he pressed a gentle yet lingering kiss to your lips. 
You broke apart at the sound of James snorting. 
“‘Just bringing him chocolate’ she says. You’ll be lucky if you see the outside of this dorm room in the foreseeable future.” He proclaimed as he picked you up bridal style out of Remus’ lap eliciting a squeal from your lips and he fell backwards onto the bed, situating the two of you there as Remus shifted back into the bed and curled himself around you.
“Your new job every month is cuddles from now on, ‘kay?” Remus whispered into your ear as James pulled the blankets up around the three of you. You couldn’t help but breathe out a laugh through your nose as you nuzzled further into him.
“Sounds good to me.” You agreed readily, accepting another kiss from James as he settled beside you.
You’d take away Remus’ pain in a heartbeat if you could, but if this was all you could do for him instead, well…there were certainly worse ways to spend your time.
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plushish · 2 months
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Adam with a reader who’s very witty and quick with comebacks?
just some silly pre-conference banter! | Adam x Reader
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headcanon/drabble — how would Adam be like with a reader who is sharp-witted?
content & warnings — NSFW, fem reader, fem pronouns, fingering & cunnilingus, sexual act happening in a public place (workplace).
a/n — this takes place in some sort of office-setting, i dont know what goes on up there in heaven but i like to think its similar to what we've seen so far in hell, so i'm sure conferences aren't unheard of. i wasn't sure what format this idea should take, so it begins like a headcanon list but finishes up with a drabble. it's also rushed and i struggled with it a lot but. we ball!!!!!!
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Adam considers himself to be a pretty funny guy, always dishing out 'sick burns' on others, but his pride gets hurt really easily. When it comes to a reader who can keep up with him in comebacks; he's definitely impressed by it, thinks it's hot as fuck, but he'd never openly admit it because it also a ignites a strong sense of competition in him.  
The tension between the two of you is uncomfortably palpable, how you twist him through every conversation and leave him to stammer like a fool just when he thinks he's bested you. Watching him seethe is endlessly entertaining to you, it brings you satisfaction, finding your own sense of pride in seeing that bad boy persona crack little by little.
The two of you will be going back-and-forth every time Sera calls for a conference, taking up half of the allotted time with your back-and-forths, and everyone graced with the luck to have been summoned there just wishes the two of you would fuck already so they didn't have to keep sitting through this.
But he secretly likes it, your flippancy towards his status and identity as First Man, how you're always so quick to shut down his sleazy remarks with an air of arrogance, going toe-to-toe with his own. Cute. 
Until one day, you finally give into him– He somehow manages to get you to fuck him, and for days after, his bragging around the office is incessant: "[Name] cries when she cums!", "Her orgasm face is just the cutest fuckin' thing, I mean could you imagine? Wait, actually don't, don't picture it–"
You start to get fed up, not only annoyed at his oversharing and his ceaseless bragging about things that simply weren't true, but because you hadn't even gotten to cum from the experience. Instead of confronting him, you had a plan in place that would get you what you wanted, so you instead opted to ignore the hushed whisperings around you all day.
...Until a little later, when you're in an empty conference room together, and he's sitting across the table from you. Licking the lid of his yogurt container with a smug look. Mimicking the disappointingly tepid treatment he'd given to you the night before.
"Should we... address what happened, [Name]?" He asks smugly, like it was a topic of business, leaning forward onto the table with his hands clasped together.
"No, I'm good." 
"Noooo?" Adam's voice is as sugary as the extra pumps of syrup he'd overloaded his coffee with this morning in the breakroom. You'd seen that diabetes-inducing horror as it happened. "Why not? I feel like it's something we should talk about."
"Why?" You ask simply. "It happened, and that's it."
That gets him a little annoyed. Confused, too; why weren't you playing along?
"Didn't mean a thing to you, then?"
"Nah."
"Oh please, [Name]," he scoffs. He’s getting offended at the thought now, his wings giving a small flap in indignance. He’s supposed to be the aloof one! You should be begging for it to happen again.
"Don't fuckin' play. My dick gave you the best fuck you've ever had and now you don’t know how to feel."
“The best? At putting me to sleep, maybe. I did get a good nap out of it afterward, so.”
To Adam, the only thing better than your negative attention is your positive attention, and the only thing worse than that is your indifference. He hates feeling desperate, but you bring him to that shameful peak.
“You were on my dick like you had a fuckin' crush,” Adam continues to ramble on, trying to find a weak spot. “Fucking me probably meant a lot to you, huh?” 
"I hump my pillow before bed and it means as much." 
"Your pillow can't plow you like I do."
"No, but at least it actually gets me to cum."
Adam’s dick twitches in his pants. You know exactly what you're doing. Those words, delivered with that cruel flippancy he loves and hates so much, are precisely tailored-- All to drive him over the edge. 
“Then maybe that was just a trial run,” He says after a long, fervent pause. "Maybe you need another taste."
You smirk a little, but only offer more disdain.
"No thanks, I've had enough to decide I'm no longer interested."
"Oh come on," He finally says. He's desperate at another chance now, he needs the validation of making you cum for his pride to be restored.
"Just give me one more shot?"
And so there you are, bottoms down, legs spread, Adam's fingers inside you, sitting on the edge of the table where a meeting is supposed to happen in about 25 minutes.
You're sopping wet. He drags a finger over your cunt before spreading it. "You're so cute, all blushing and shit. Makes me crazy hard."
"Your vocabulary is fucking terrible. Stop talking."
"You like it, though." He grins, teasingly lifting his fingers away from your aching cunt to show you your own wetness. You let out a small whine at the absence. "You sure you want me to stop?"
"Shut up, I said," You grab him by his hair and shove his mouth where you want it, aggressive and impatient. "-and start eating."
Normally Adam is not one to take demands like that. But in this position-- looking up at your stern face from between your legs--he obeys. He kisses at your cunt over and over, sweet little pecks like a first crush. The sensation makes your core tighten around nothing. Adam was not one to take his time; he was teasing you like this on purpose. You weren't having it.
And so pettily, you decide to say: "You can do better than that."
So naively, he does, he takes your dare and you're practically gushing all over the conference table by the time he gets in there and starts eating for real. Desperately suckling your clit between those smirking lips, that mouth that never fucking shuts up.
You cum with a satisfied sigh, as if you'd just had a good stretch rather than an orgasm on his face. He looks up at you expectantly, lips glistening with your aftertaste. Eyes wide and eager, waiting for the praise that is to come, only for you to lean in and whisper:
"Look who has a crush now."
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a/n — pls forgive me for taking so long to answer this! i don't think it's exactly what you're looking for but i tried. it's more of an "adam with a reader who he has a sexually-charged, competitive work relationship with" type of deal. you just like to play with him and you know exactly how to make him desperate
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konaharts · 3 months
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RadioStatic Week 2024
First Meeting
[I'm probably not going to do all the days due to work, but I wanted to draw at least this one!
I know they most likely met while Vox was building a video/tv empire in Hell, but I couldn't get this one scenario out of my head of Alastor finding Vox shortly after he arrives in Hell. Enjoy this mini-fic I wrote about it!]
The sinner was scrawny, a picture box laying on his shoulders, the glass having been broken in by the demons Alastor had just chased away. What looked like a face occasionally flashed on the screen.
The Radio Host's eyes scrunched up in disgust, his very personal feelings and opinions about televisions flooding into him. He should have passed on by.
Whoever this sinner was, he was possibly one of the most pathetic-looking sinners Alastor had ever laid his eyes upon.
Even so, a sinner down on his luck was another opportunity for a deal and another avenue to grow his power.
"My, my. You look like you've seen better days! Welcome to Hell, my good fellow!"
At the sound of the Radio Demon's voice, the newest arrival to Hell turned his head, the broken screen flashing, occasionally illuminating Alastor's face. A distorted, filtered voice with uneven volume emanates from the picture box, words occasionally repeating and stuttering due to the damage.
"H-H-Hell? W-W-Wał₮…I. I. I. I. Kn-Know th-th-₮Ⱨ₳₮ voł₵Ɇ."
Alastor paused.
"Oh?"
"A-A-Al₳₴₮ØⱤ ████████. ₣ⱤØ₥ ₮ⱧɆ ███ ███████ RadĐłØ ₴ⱧØ₩. I-I-It's beɆ₦ ɎɆ₳Ɽ₴, b-b-but I re₵Ø₲₦łⱫɆ th₳₮ vØł₵Ɇ."
This was unexpected. With the wave of his cane, Alastor's powers begin to turn the clock on the sinner's face, repairing it, piece by piece.
"You've heard of me?"
"Ⱨ₳ve I?" The last bit of machinery and glass push themselves in, the cracks instantly healing. A flash, and a now-complete face graces the screen. The distorted voice disappears, replaced by the voice of an enthusiastic man with a filter similar to Alastor's own. "Why, you're my inspiration!" The sinner's face beams with excitement.
Finally, some proper recognition in this hellhole. Alastor's grin turns into a wide smile. Dare he say, genuine, for once?
"Well, well, well! What a surprise! It's not everyday I come across someone who's heard of me before falling into the pits of Hell! Tell me,"
Alastor helps up the television man and straightens his antenna.
"What do they call you, ol' chum?"
The sinner hesitates. No doubt someone or something had informed him about how sinners tend to change their names upon arriving in Hell.
"…Vox."
A peculiar name.
"Well, Voxy, I know a place with the best drinks this side of town! Let's have a chat and get you settled in, hm?"
With an arm around his shoulder, Alastor leads Vox away. Despite his reservations with the...asset...Hell had so graciously gifted this poor soul as a head, maybe having someone with knowledge about television that he could manipulate wouldn't be so bad.
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another-lost-mc · 9 months
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Hey<3
I hope you're having a lovely day like you♡
I have a lil request which is OM brothers accidentally hitting MC maybe in the face or smth.
Thank you in advance ☺
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a/n: considering the daily chaos that ensues at the HoL, I could see a lot of accidents happening. plus, they're demons—maybe they forget their own strength, y'know?
➤ when accidents happen | the demon brothers
1.1k words | sfw | hurt/comfort | gn!reader
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Lucifer makes a grab for someone—probably Mammon or Satan—who ducks behind you at the last moment, causing his hand to swipe across your cheek or forehead instead. You rub the sore spot and start sputtering angrily at them, glaring back and forth between Lucifer's bewildered expression and the guilty face of the sibling he was reaching for. Their little fight is momentarily forgotten when they both comfort you and make sure you're okay. Lucifer feels the most guilt and over the next few days, you catch him staring at your face like he's trying to make absolutely sure you're not injured or holding a grudge against him. He eventually remembers how this whole situation started, and his sibling's delayed punishment is much more severe because you were caught in the crossfire.
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Mammon nearly crashes into you in his rush to escape Lucifer or Levi's wrath. You have no idea what the shouting down the hall is about—maybe he spent too much money at the casino again or maybe he broke something valuable. All you know is that you're heading to the library and minding your own business when Mammon comes tearing around the corner at lightning-fast speed. It's comical how quickly his expression morphs from surprise to horror when he realizes you're in his path. He grazes your side even though he changes direction to avoid hitting you head-on. He loses his balance and the momentum sends him crashing to the floor. Whoever was chasing him catches up to him and there's gonna be hell to pay, but Mammon managed to avoid seriously hurting you and that's all he really cares about.
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Levi shifts into his demon form when he's cuddled with you in his tub but he doesn't always realize it. You wake up most mornings with his tail wrapped around part of you: your arm, your waist, one of your legs. When Levi gets excited, his tail thumps against the porcelain. (You can't help but think about an excited dog wagging his tail, but you keep that comparison to yourself.) You usually fall asleep curled around each other, but sometimes his tail flails around enough that it wakes you up. Tonight his tail flicks roughly against the tip of your nose, and your eyes water from surprise and the initial burst of pain. You're fine again within a couple minutes, but that doesn't stop Levi from apologizing profusely and he nearly sobs with embarrassment over the whole thing.
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Satan has better control over his frustration and rage now than when you first met him, but he still needs some sort of outlet when he feels overwhelmed. He usually storms off to his room and deals with it privately. You've offered him the solution of screaming into a pillow, but it's not soothing for him like it can be for you. He often destroys something instead—ripping a book to shreds (and regretting it later) or throwing something against the wall. Whatever's in his hand becomes collateral damage. If he forgets you're in his room too, it can be dangerous. He's never thrown something at you, but poor aim and bad luck means that whatever he sends flying against the wall can ricochet into pieces and hit you after. It's like a bucket of cold water dumping over his head when your little noise of surprise catches his attention, and he fusses over you endlessly while he makes sure you're not really hurt. He doesn't think it's funny when you grin and remind him that you're still in better shape than his now-destroyed coffee mug is.
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Asmo rarely hurts you even by accident, and usually it's in silly moments of clumsy excitement. Today he painted his nails with a new nail art technique he hasn't tried before. You both lean down at the same time to admire his work and his forehead smacks into yours. You're both a little stunned and your eyes water from the shock rather than actual pain. He breaks out into giggles when you whine his name and try to blame him even though it's really no one's fault. Asmo accepts responsibility anyway and he apologizes profusely, but he hesitates to hug you when his nails are still wet and tacky with polish. He opens his arms wide so you can wrap your arms around his chest instead. He peppers your head with kisses and promises to make it up to you as soon as his nails are dry.
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Usually Beel polishes off all the leftovers at dinner. Some nights you want extra helpings too, and it's like a mad dash to help yourself before Beel does. Tonight you both reach for the dish of hellfire scalloped potatoes at the same time. Your fingers grab the side of the dish first, but his fingers squeeze around yours immediately after. His grip is tight—too tight—and you wince from the pressure of his fingers digging into your hand and the uncomfortable heat of the ceramic dish against your palm. Mammon grabs his fork and stabs Beel's hand with it on your behalf. Beel looks so guilty when he pulls his arm away and insists that you can have the rest. His stomach growls in protest, but you know it was an accident and you're not really hurt. After you shake the stiffness from your fingers, you scoop some of the food onto his plate before helping yourself to the rest. Later on, he offers to take you out for ice cream as an apology.
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When Belphie sleeps, he has some cursory awareness of what's going on around him but he tries to block it out. He's not easy to move around, either—his body is like dead weight, heavy and awkward and unyielding. When you nap together, he usually falls asleep and doesn't move around too much. You might scoot away when his body next to yours causes you to overheat, but he tends to stay exactly how he is. It's days when he has active dreams or bad nightmares that things can get a little awkward. He might wrap an arm around you suddenly and it's nearly impossible to wiggle free, and sometimes his tail makes an appearance and drapes over you when he feels particularly clingy. Sometimes your arm ends up pinched against the mattress after he rolls on top of you in his sleep. He'll wake up when he realizes it's you trying to get his attention, but his apologies for nearly crushing you don't sound very sincere. Once he's lifted himself off you, he lets you get repositioned first then he cuddles up beside you again. As he drifts off to sleep, he grumbles under his breath about how it couldn't have been that bad.
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miniwheat77 · 3 months
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Heartbeat. (Mean!Captain Price x Reader.)
!smut, captain price being a meanie, rough sex, unprotected sex, non con , proceed with caution, you’ve been warned!
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You roll your eyes as you sit down at the table in the mess hall, finally able to eat dinner.
Two hours after dinner was held.
Soap sits down next to you, looking at you in sympathy. “You must’ve done something to get on his bad side in the beginning.” He laughs. You mutter under your breath. “I’ve literally done everything under the sun for him. Pretty much the only thing I haven’t done is drop to my knees and suck him off at this point. Don’t know what the hell else I can do to prove myself.” You grumble. Eating your cold dinner. Soap laughs. “He’s not normally like that. I don’t know what it is about you lass but it’s just rubs him the wrong way.” He laughs. You sigh. “Yeah. My burning arms from the hundred push ups would agree.” You groan. Soap laughs.
“He’ll get over it eventually.”
“He better, or I’m gonna ask for a transfer.” You groan. “Don’t blame you. I’ve never seen him act like that before.” He laughs, standing up. “You’ll be alright. He’ll figure it out. Who knows, maybe he’s got a crush and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”
You laugh. “Yeah, that’s true. I am quite the catch.” You smirk. Making Soap roll his eyes.
“Don’t go getting a big head.” You shove him with your foot as he starts to walk away. “Goodnight Y/N.”
“Night MacTavish!”
He disappears out of the mess hall, and you’re left completely alone.
A sigh leaves your lips. “Y/N, my office. Now.” You hear your Captains voice come through your radio. Making you groan. You stand up, throwing away your cold dinner. It wasn’t good anyways. Not even a microwave would save it. You brush yourself off making your way down the hallways to his office. You turn the corner, feet patting against the tiled floor. You walk up to his office. Taking a deep breath before you knock. “Come in!” He calls. You open the door up, stepping inside. You know better than to just walk in. “You called for me?”
“Yeah, you’re covering watch for Gaz.”
You tilt your head in confusion. “Is he alright?” You ask. His eyes flash up to your face, it’s a warning.
You back off of the subject, you’ll just ask Gaz for yourself. “Anything else Captain?” You ask. He says nothing. You turn away, walking out the door. You’re irritated. You made your way for the watch tower. He always made you cover for everyone. You’re lucky if you ever get any sleep anymore.
This continues on for weeks. He takes his anger out on you. He’s not nice to you. It’s gotten so bad that the other members of the task force have had to step between the two of you. It’s the only time he’ll ever back off. It’s a particularly bad night. You’ve just gotten off of your watch and you’re exhausted. He calls you to his office to cover the watch immediately after yours. You explain that you’ve already covered two watches and you’re tired, which he doesn’t like.
“My office Y/N.”
You groan, passing by Soap as you make your way for his office. “Good luck.”
“Gonna fucking need it.” You groan. You open up the door and step right inside, seeing his eyes narrow at you. If he’s going to be a dick you might as well have some fun with it. He says nothing. Instead of asking him your usual questions you just throw yourself into the chair in front of his desk. “You needed me?”
You swallow hard as he looks at you, he’s getting mad.
“I asked you to cover a watch.”
You lean back, throwing your leg up over another. “Yeah, and this is me saying no.”
He stiffens up. “Excuse me?” He asks. Your heartbeat picks up. It’s starting to thump in your chest. “I said no. I’ve already covered for Gaz again and I did my own watch. I haven’t slept more than 5 hours a night being on this base with you, you know?” You smirk. He narrows his eyes. “I don’t think you’re going to like what happens when you disobey me.” He leans back in his chair. Crossing his arms.
“Ah, I already don’t like what happens when you’re normal, so let’s play this game.” You smirk. He’s fuming. “100 push ups.” He nods. “No.”
“200”
“You can keep adding but I’m not going to do them.” You cross your own arms. He stands up, walking around his desk and leaning up against it. “What exactly are you trying to achieve by disobeying me? Hm?” He breathes. “Oh, nothing. I’m just sick of you working me like a dog.” You look up at him. He rolls his eyes. “Y/N. Quit being a brat and go take your watch.”
“No.”
He’s fuming.
“Y/N.”
“I’ll go cover it when you make me.” You look up at him.
“Excuse me?”
“I said make me.” He’s clearly stumped by your reaction. “I’ll have you taken off my base faster than you can say-“
“So go ahead.” You cut him off. His ear lobes start to blush, he’s furious. “But you’re not going to. Are you?” You stand up, moving closer to him. He towers over you but you’re still cornering him.
“I’m not sure what it is I’ve done to you. But I’m done being treated like shit.” You move closer to him. “So unless you’re going to make me, I’m going to go to bed.” You grin.
You can’t help but notice his jeans, and how they’ve gotten tighter since you’ve been biting back. “Does it… do something for you? Hm?” You smirk. “Do you like pushing me around?” You cross your arms. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He growls. You reach your hand out to grope him and he grasps it, stopping you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He growls. “Who said I couldn’t finish it?” You step even closer. “Y/N..” his voice is full of warning.
“Do you think you deserve it?” You breathe. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t exactly been kind to me, I don’t think you’ve earned it.” He laughs. Taking in a deep breathe. “You’re a funny girl, you know that?”
He stays completely still and in just a second he’s got you bent over his desk, a handful of your hair in his hands. His cock pressed right up against your ass. You don’t even have time to gasp before he’s got you against it. “Amusing you think I won’t just take what I want.” His voice is deep, his breath warm over your ear as he mutters it. He lifts his radio from his vest. “Soap, do you mind taking over watch? Y/N is going to be unavailable for the next couple hours.”
“No problem. Take it easy on the poor girl, old man. She’s don’t enough push ups for the entire task force.” Soap’s voice comes across the both of your radios.
He chuckles, forcing you back by your hair. “Deep breaths.” He reaches down, you can hear him fumbling with his belt. “Nobody will save you this time.” He reaches around your front, unbuttoning your jeans and forcing them down your legs. He tugs them until they’re completely off, pushing himself up against your bare ass. You can feel him. Skin on skin. Nothing holding you back. You’re wondering how it’s progressed this far. “You don’t deserve it.” You grit your teeth. “Been nothing but a complete ass to me since I started on your base.” You roll your eyes. He snorts, “yeah, feel free to stop me.” He rolls his eyes. Spitting on his cock and lining up with your entrance. “Nothing? Hm?” He breathes. “Right, you’re a pathetic slut and me being mean to you got this little pussy wet. That’s why you’re here-“ he pauses, thrusting himself into you. You gasp out, all of the air leaving your lungs as he forces his big cock into you. “On my cock.” He finishes his sentence.
You moan out, clutching onto his desk. You’re holding on for dear life as he starts his bruising pace. Hips slamming against yours, the wooden desk digging into your hips. “Oh god.” You whine. He tugs your hair back, forcing you back. He kisses you hard, feeling you melting into him further. How willing you are to take him is something he didn’t expect.
John isn’t a relationship kind of guy. He’s in the military, nothing ever goes his way. He avoids women at all costs.
The moment you showed up he knew he needed to stay away from you. He knew he couldn’t help himself if he got his hands on you. He saw how easy it was for others to get along with you and it didn’t help with how damn pretty you were and how sweet you were to top it off. He was fucked from the beginning. He knew it.
So now, with his cock buried deep inside you. He didn’t know what the hell to do. He didn’t think it would be this easy, that you would just let him. But you did.
The tiny whines that leave your lips, they egg him on. You’re a lot less vocal than he thought you’d be. Whining and whimpering. Like you didn’t know how to react or what to do.
All you could do is just take it, because he wasn’t going to stop.
Your knuckles turn white, hips lurching forward with every hard thrust he takes. He’s brushing up against parts of your body that had never been touched before. You couldn’t help but fall apart beneath him. At his complete mercy. The tough act you had put up to get here is long gone, all that’s left is the mess he’d made of you. “Captain-“
“Call me John.” He tugs your hair back, hand clapping against your ass. You cry out. “John- you don’t have a condom on.” You hiss. He spanks your ass again, not slowing his thrusts for a second. “No, I don’t. And I don’t need one. You’re a good cock sleeve, you can take it.” He breathes. His teeth gritted as he says it. “What? No!” You try to more your hips forward, trying to get away from him but he wraps his arms around your waist. “Oh baby, no. No no.” He laughs. Thrusting into you still as he forces you against his large muscled body. He makes you feel and look small and pathetic next to him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy. M’gonna fill your slutty pussy and you’re gonna love every single second of it.” He grins. “But- but what if-“
“What if what? What if I knock you up? Get you pregnant?” He laughs. “I guess you should’ve thought about that before you threw yourself at me.” He growls, biting down on your neck. Another mewl leaves his lips. “Please don’t-“
“Fuck- oh fuck I’m gonna cum.” He pants. “No- John please!”
He forces you back over the desk, holding your hips steady. You can’t help it as he pushes you over the edge, a sob leaving your lips as you cum around his cock. Pussy clamping down around him. He can feel it.
“You say you don’t want it but your pussy says otherwise baby.” He holds you hands behind your back, keeping you from fighting him as he fucks into you. “Sweet pussy is milking my cock- fuck.” He hisses. He’s right on the edge. Just a couple more thrusts and he’s groaning out. “Shit- oh fuck yes-“ he hisses. Your eyes widen when you feel it. His warmth filling up, your mouth falls open as he keeps going.
He leans over onto you. Lips right by your ear. “You’ll obey me, next time. Because we haven’t even started yet.” He brushes a hand over your hair. Flattening out what’s still sticking up from him pulling it. “M’gonna fuck my cum deeper into you, and your punishment will be how fucking scared you are when your cycle doesn’t come.” He chuckles. He keeps rocking his hips into you, despite how sensitive his cock is. His own filth seeps out of you, back out around his cock. He can feel it dripping between his thighs and yours. “This is going to be the longest month of your life, sweet girl. So be a good girl. Because when you’re not.” He tsks’
“You know exactly what’s going to happen.” He smiles.
As you lie there, still over his desk. Heartbeat thumping un your chest. Sore. Your legs wobbly. Quite possibly the best sex of your life. You’re already wondering.
What else you can do to get yourself back here, bent over his desk.
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penny00dreadful · 6 months
Text
Before He Cheats
AO3
“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.
“Is that really how you answer the phone?”
Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”
“Suppose.”
“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”
“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”
“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”
The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 
Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.
“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”
“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”
“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”
“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”
“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”
Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”
“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”
Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”
There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 
“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”
“How long?”
Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 
They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 
Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 
They’d never really felt all that funny.
Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 
They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 
More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.
Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 
But that was no excuse to cheat. 
At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 
“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”
“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 
If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.
Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.
Didn’t make him any less pissed.
“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 
But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.
“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”
Eddie pursed his lips. 
“Please hold.”
He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 
Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 
He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 
“Still there?”
“Yes. Ow, by the way.”
Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 
“Send it on.”
Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.
Well. 
Shit. 
There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 
Ugh.
Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 
@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair
Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.
It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.
God damn.
But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 
“Steve, is it?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.
Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”
“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”
Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.
Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 
That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.
He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 
He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 
It felt wrong.
Even though he was pretty much single now.
Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 
But fuck him. 
He’d find out.
One way or the other.
And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.
But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.
No tonight he would just… hurt.
And smoke.
A lot.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”
Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 
The screen had gone black.
“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”
Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”
“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”
Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”
“Oh-”
“How do you feel about a video call?”
A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.
“A video call is fine.”
“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 
He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 
He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 
Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.
Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 
He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.
Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.
He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 
Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.
He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 
He looked so soft. 
Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.
“Eddie?”
“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.
“You okay?”
He shrugged. “I will be.”
“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”
Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.
“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”
“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”
“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”
“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”
“Suppose not.”
“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”
Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.
“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”
“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 
Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 
“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.
“I am, I guess.”
Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 
That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.
“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”
“So we can both be sad and angry together.”
“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.
“We can be sad and angry together.”
Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.
“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”
Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 
“No.”
It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.
Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 
“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”
“Shut up.”
“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.
Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”
“Okay?”
“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”
“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”
Eddie nodded. 
That he could understand. 
“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”
“Woulda hurt me plenty.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”
“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”
“Just his decisions are bad.”
“Exactly.”
“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”
“To us, Stevie. To us.”
“Right, so what’s the plan then?”
“When are you due to see him next?”
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Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.
But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 
He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.
Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.
Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.
They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.
They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.
It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.
After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.
Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.
He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 
She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 
She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 
Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.
Again, adorable.
Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 
The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.
Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.
He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 
Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.
He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.
He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 
They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.
Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 
Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.
Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.
Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 
He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.
When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.
Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.
With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.
At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.
Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 
Rick knew fuck all about cars. 
Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.
Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.
A second Shania song had started up. 
He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 
He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 
He’d failed miserably. 
Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.
With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.
Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”
Okay, only a few seconds left.
Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.
The bat was fucking stuck.
Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.
“What the fuck?!”
Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.
To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 
But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 
Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.
“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.
“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.
Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 
Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.
With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 
They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.
He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”
As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.
When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.
Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.
AO3
@geekymagicalpotato
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
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