#when i heard his radio i actually teared up

[httpiastri]

there are literal tears in my eyes, im not even kidding

#FUCK YOU MERCEDES #DO YOU SEE WHAT YOU LOST?????? #when i heard his radio i actually teared up #paul i love you so so so much #this is insane #i didn’t think i would be crying this weekend but :(((( #we went from thinking he could still be 6th despite the penalty… and then 5th… then foURTH?? aND OMG HES PULLING AWAY FROM ZAK #that last lap holy fuuuuck #im so proud #paul aron #f2 #formula two #formula 2 #bahrain 2024

[huskyweebo]

Kings accidental consort. PT. 1 [ ? ]

Tysm to this blog for inspiring me to make an RadioApple fanfic!

“ So do you Agree on the terms. “ Lucifer affirmed, folding his arms as if saying to not agree. He and Alastor were on the patio; the only quiet place in the now bustling hotel,

“ yes yes, “ The radio demon said somewhat dismissively, “ I would only act as a parent to dear Charlie when you are not here, “ he repeated.

A sudden, odd thought came to Lucifer, “ just like divorced dads, “ he heard in his head, making him snicker slightly, Alastor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, “ what seems to be hilarious your Majesty, surely not our agreement “ he proceeded to hold out his hand, Lucifer grasped it.

“ oh nothing, I was just thinking that this deal seems like we act like a sort of divorced couple, and how it would be funny if we were actually, truly married “ they shook hands, around them powerful rays of light signaled a deal being made by an Overlord and King.

Downstairs Charlie and Vaggie were heading to their room after letting Angel handle the new guests for a break. Suddenly, the lights darkened around them and Green light was seen, both girls knew that all too well.

“ I’m sorry but who is making a deal with Alastor? “ Charlie asked. Vaggie raised an eyebrow

“ wait didn’t your dad go up with Alastor a couple minutes ago? … oh shit, “ Vaggie muttered, she grabbed Charlie’s hand and rushed up the stairs leading to the patio where Lucifer had said he will be. The was a lot of commotion behind the closed doors, Charlie kicked it open and ready to fight.

“ -re you shitting me! What is this?! This is your fault sinner ! “ Lucifer yelled once Charlie smashed the door open, her father appeared to be wearing a wedding dress, and blushing profusely. Vaggie burst out laughing.

“ well I wasn’t the one who made a frivolous joke about being married, am I ? “ Alastor said. he seemed frustrated, but he still held his smile. He himself was wearing a black tuxedo and holding a bouquet of flowers.

As they argued, both of their hands flared around. Charlie stayed quiet, not wanting to intervene but suddenly noticed wedding bands on each of their clawed hands, putting two and two together, she gasped loudly. She started squealing making both men stop yelling to look at her,

“ oh my gosh, oh my gosh, Vaggie!! Alastor is officially my Father!! They have Ringsss! “ she said shaking her girlfriend, Tears fell from her eyes.

“ ok easy on the sparkles Hon, “ Vaggie said while being shook, she turned to the males with a questioning look,

“ did you guys seriously get married? “ Charlie ran to hug Alastor, “ NEW DAD ! “ she yelled while sobbing madly,

“ What is this? Dear this isn’t for long, His Highness messed up a deal we were making and ended up like this, “ Charlie was peeled off of his body, and her face told them she was hugely disappointed.

“ what but what kind of deal can you botch that badly to- “

“ WELL TIME TO BREAK THIS MARRIGE “ Lucifer interrupted, snapping his fingers.

The wedding garments disappeared for both, Alastor brushed his clothes, “ There you go, the deal should be of- why do I still have another ring. “ Lucifer stretched out his hand in front of him, on top of his old wedding ring that Lilith gave him, there was still the new one. Alastor looked down, he still had his on aswell.

“ Now this is particularly “ he said off handly, “ I thought you had it covered your majesty, “

“ well I do, give me a second “ Lucifer growled,

20 minutes later and everyone was in the palace with Lucifer running everywhere and looking through all the books he can find, he was muttering under his breath frantically similarly to how Charlie did when she was in a panic,

“ HOW IS THERE NOTHING ABOUT STUPID DEAL BREAKS IN THIS SHITHOLE “ Lucifer yelled out from another room and a book could be seen thrown.

“ hmmm “ Alastor hummed through his smile, he enjoyed the little one running around with tarnish, but he knew the fun couldn’t last. He he assured Charlie then went through his shadow and to where Lucifer was.

“ Your highness what seems to be the problem? “ he asked knowing full well the answer to his own question. Lucifer looked like a complete mess: both his horns and wings were out and he wore a crazed expression,

“ well, funny thing, well um- “ he stammered, then flew up and took another book out of a shelf instead of answering him.

Alastor waited for him to come down, he was like a prissy baby and currently, he knew not that Alastor could hear him from down below. The king cursed him out and his past living self. The book he previously had in his hand fell with a slam right next to Alastor, Lucifer cursed even more and flew higher, deep into the high rise library, Alastor went to pick up the book but immediately dropped it when it burned his skin through his gloves.

It was a holy book, ‘ Deals With The Unholy ‘ it was called. All around Alastor was holy books similar to that.

Finally, Lucifer calmed down slightly and flew back to where Alastor was, he was panting heavily.

“ finally calmed down? “ the Sinner rejoiced, his smiled sickened Lucifer, “ I see you don’t got this handled, “ the King rolled his eyes,

“ looks like apparently once a deal is made it can never be broken until it ends, but we never put a deadline, so it’s not possible… but I swear I had saw something about breaking a deal somewhere! “ he said with a pout, Alastor laughed slightly.

“ well I suggest we go ahead and tell our daughter that becuase she is currently worried about you. “ Alastor said smoothly,

“ she worried about me ? “ Lucifer said excitedly, then clearing his throat embarrassed when he saw Alastors face.

“ what do you mean, ‘ our duaghter ‘ she’s my duaghter not yours “ he growled. Alastor laughed,

“ Well this ring says otherwise, so until we find out a way to break this frivolous deal, we are officially married so she is indeed my duaghter. “ Lucifer narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything, “ go along now darling, please tend to OUR daughter “ The short king muttered angerly as he left, not waiting for him.

Alastor waited for him to close the door. The sound of a Wendigo could be heard from him.

he held his hand with his wedding band out, from it, sparks came from it and suddenly a book appeared in his hand. He reading for a brief moment before shutting and burning it.

“ A slight mishap that I could use, maybe being married isn’t such a bad thing “ Alastor started laughing, he continued on as he went through the shadows…

TBC [ ? ]

#radioapple #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #fanfic #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel fanfiction #appleradio #appleradio fanfic #radioapple fanfic #alastor #alastor x lucifer #prompt fic #my hands hurt #maybe will be another chapter idk #Kings accidental consort

[jyoongim]

Anon requested: “Alastor X OC Smut where the reader is Lucifers daughter Charlie's twin he hears she is set to marry a hellborn demon but he doesn't want to give her up so he offers her his completel love and devotion for her soul but she says he already has it, they mate in his demonic form and he impregnates and marks her as his mate sealing the deal so when her father comes to take her away he finds she is carrying Alastor's twin fawns….”

@ohmylovewhereartthou-blog i had so much fun writing this!!!

(I shortened the request because of details)

themes: arranged marriage, slight breeding kink, creampie, cervix touching, stomach bulge, magic, possessive/jealous behavior, rough sex, degradation, praise, happy ending

~ reader will be called “princess/baby/ma cherie/dear/darling/ angel~

Morningstar!Reader x Alastor

—————————————————————————————————

You were the King of Hell’s treasure.

You were the older twin to Charlie Morningstar.

Because you were the firstborn Princess of Hell, your father had arranged that you would marry and begin the process of becoming the next ruler of Hell.

“What?” You asked confused looking at your father, not sure you had heard him right.

Lucifer cleared his throat and had a big smile on his face.

”I have finally found a respectful hellborn for you angel. A Goetia prince. Hes perfect for you and would make an excellent partner”

Marriage? 

“But Daddy I-” you started, but Lucifer interrupted you 

“No but’s it took me a longtime to find someone who I thought would be a good match for you. This is good! I already have everything arranged and it has been set. As the Princess of Hell you will begin your royal duties officially”

Charlie took your hand as you felt your anger rise. Being the kind soul she was, she tried to intervene

”Dad sis is already in a relationship. She can’t just give that up. She’s in love” your twin gushed.

Lucifer grimaced at the mention of your significant other.

”Yes Alastor was it? Hmm well I advise you make peace with him and end it.”

You felt tears pool in your eyes. Give up your love? This was so unfair!

“I will grant you six months. One year to make your peace with the bellhop and then you’re coming home. Understood?”

You nodded sadly as you stood and bowed “Yes father”

You watched as he opened a portal and disappeared, leaving you and Charlie.

Charlie turned to you “Hey Im sure if you explain to this prince your situation that he will understand” Oh sweet Charlie. So naive.

You shook your head “You dont understand Charlie. I have a duty to uphold. I am the Heir to the throne and I must obey our father’s wish. As ordered by the King”

You stood up and went to your room, where you cried yourself to sleep.

—————————————————————————————

Hell was in a frenzy at the announcement of your upcoming engagement. 

It wasn’t everyday that hellish royalty was getting married.

 It was the talk in all the rings of Hell.

And soon word reached back to the Radio Demon.

You and Alastor had been going steady for a while. It was actually your twin who encouraged you two to be together since Alastor had made it known he had fancied you when you came to the hotel to help your sister.

You never imagined you would be head over heels for the red demon, but satan did you love him.

Alastor adored you. Worshiped the ground you walked on and treated you with the upmost respect.

There was no way you could just break up with him to…to marry a stranger!

You had always thought you would marry Alastor. But maybe that was just a dream….

”The realm is buzzing with excitement. Never thought your father would disapprove of our union so much” Alastor chuckled.

He had brought you out on a date, to distract you from all the fuss.

It was just you and him. Just as it had always been.

You stiffened. You hadnt had the heart to tell Alastor of your father’s decision. You just wanted to enjoy these moments while they lasted.

You sighed, poking your food “Are you upset?” You asked softly, peeking at him through your eyelashes.

Alastor smiled, “Well you are the princess my dear. Im not upset. Ill love you even if you decide to go through with this whole engagement haha but I hadnt added a prince to my broadcast yet” he giggled, making you smile.

Oh how you loved his bloodlust.

”j-just…I mean I haven’t even met this guy and daddy just wants to ship me off to the highest bidder. There hasn’t been any need for him to even think of marriage. Hes not dying. There’s no need for me to marry. I dont want marry a stranger…I want to marry you”

”Oh my dear at least let me be the one to propose” he joked.

He grabbed your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb “Dont worry dearest. I wont let anyone take you from me”

————————————————————————————-

The hotel was quiet when you two came back.

You had indulge in drinks to rid your mind of your impending doom.

Alastor brought you to his room and you made yourself comfortable.

Like any date, you hoped to lose yourself in pleasure at the end.

You stripped yourself of your pantsuit, leaving you in your lingerie.

Alastor’s colors.

”Red is such a lovely color on you” He whispered, coming behind you, pressing soft kisses on your shoulders. You hummed happily, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck. You were blessed with your mother’s height so your breasts were hugged against his face.

”I can give you anything you desire ma cherie. Say the word and its yours. Ill burn Hell if you say to. I am at your complete disposal” He peppered your chest in kisses, softly nipping at the tops of your breasts.

You leaned his face up to yours and pressed your lips against his, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

”make me forget all my problems. Fuck me like the slut I am and not a princess. I wanna be yours completely, like we have forever” you whispered against his lips.

Alastor grinned as he retreated from your lips, trailing a hand into your thick locks and gripping tight, the other toying with your panties.

”Your wish is my command”

—————————————————————————————

“F-fuck! Please please” you whined, as Alastor pounded into you.

Your claws ripped through the bedding as your body jolted along the sheets. Your body was going haywire.

How many times had he brought you to orgasm?

You had lost count.

Your body was sticky with sweat and your cunt clenched around his cock.

Alastor tugged your hair, pulling your head back. He let out a growl when he saw how fucked out you were.

Your face was flushed, your tongue lulled and you were panting.

So beautiful.

”A-Al!” You cried when he gave you a harsh thrust. He chuckled “what is doll? C’mon use your words”

words? What were words? You could barely think!

He leaned over you, never breaking his pace ”what a pretty slut. To think another demon is to fuck my cunt. No that wont do. Your cunt is mine and I wont let another have the pleasure to carve it. You always take me so well baby. What’d you think dear?”

You let out senseless babble as your cunt fluttered.

Your cunt let out a squelch as he pulled out. Alastor’s cock was coated in creamy slick. You whined, pushing your hips back to try and have him fill you again “No no no gimme-”

Alastor sucked his teeth at you, smirking “oh? You want my cock? How bad you want it hmmm? Soon it wont be me feeding you cock every night” he slapped his tip against your slit. You moaned, wiggling your hips. You pouted “I dont want another cock Al! I-I want yours! Only yours please” 

He released your head,making you fall forward. You spreaded your thighs and leaned back on your knees as you dipped your hand to your dripping cunt.

You looked over your shoulder at him as you toyed with your puffy clit. Your lips jutted out in a pout “p-play with me. I want it! I want your cock so bad. Please please fill me up. I want your cock to be the only thing to fuck me ah!  Alastor!” You felt that band of tingles form ready to release.

But you couldnt cum. Not without Alastor.

He knew your body better than you did.

Alastor slapped your hand away, having mercy on you.

”The pretty princess can’t cum can she?” You whimpered as he chuckled, sliding his cock against you.

Alastor felt that familiar burn in the pit of his stomach. 

Possessiveness. Jealousy.

He rarely had the urge to fuck you into submission.

“Fill you? Oh baby when I’m done with you you’ll be dripping with my cum.” He let out a dark laugh as his body morphed.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you watch Alastor transform into his demon form.

”roll over” his tone was dark and sharp, leaving no room for debate.

You rolled onto your back obediently, spreading your thighs and bringing your hand back to your clit.

You moaned softly as you rubbed tight circles on your bud.

Large clawed hands massaged your plush thighs.

His bright eyes focused on your fingers.

His chest rumbled as he lowered his head to your cunt, nipping at your fingers. “This cunt is mine. My cock is yours. You think some prince can fuck you half as good as me? Oh no. Not the cunt I worked so hard to carve into.” He licked at your clit, dipping his tongue into your tight hole.

”My personal royal fucktoy that’s what you are doll.” 

You moaned softly at the degradation, rolling your hips against his face.

Satan he knew how to get you going. Alastor’s demon form was terrifying to most, but you found it hot that you made the Radio Demon lost himself to the point he could let loose.

Static buzzed your skin as Alastor ate you as if meaning to devour you whole. Alastor released your clit with a pop, opting to nuzzle the pearl before hooking a hand under your knee, lifting it to your chest, opening you up.

Alastor leaned up, wedging himself between your thighs. Your eyes drifted to his cock.

Youve fucked the red demon in his demonic form before, but it never ceased to amaze you the sheer size of him.

You felt your body heat up as your own demonic form came to the forefront, wanting to accommodate the male on top of you.

Beautiful vermillion horns sprouted from your hair as your eyes turned red and sharp. Your spiky tail swished, hitting Alastor slightly making him narrow his eyes at your playfulness.

You were so pretty.

Alastor leaned his head down, neck cracking to nudge your face, nose taking in your scent and sharp teeth nipping at you. Your dainty claws found purchase in his fluffy locks, making way to paw at the massive antlers sitting on his head.

A soft gasp escaped you when you felt his heavy cock press against you.

 Your eyes met his. 

Red dials simmered with desire, but you could see the love he held for you, even like this.

Alastor would do anything for you.

Were you to really turn your back on a man who would carve his heart out if you asked?

You pushed yourself up against him, affectionately kissing his neck and shoulder, scraping your sharp teeth against his skin.

“I love you Alastor” you whispered, feeling your cheeks burn as you admit this suddenly.

You and Alastor never expressed how the two of you felt with words. Actions were more appreciated, but you felt like you should at least tell him once.

He chuckled slightly “No need for such a declaration my dear. Youve had my heart and soul since the moment I saw you. You have my utter devotion.”

He purred. Your eyes widened as a thought popped into your head.

Soul?

Alastor has given you everything of his without even a contract.

His love.

His heart.

His soul.

They were all yours willingly.

”Make a deal with me”

Green magic swirled at your words and Alastor’s cock twitched, he growled lowly “Careful with what you ask dear”

You ignored him. Your hand drifted between you and you gasped as you slid his cock into you, making the demon let out a room-shaking growl.

A surge of magic washed over you and you watched as the glittery glow seeped into Alastor’s skin.

A full thrust had you taking him to the hilt, balls flushed against your ass.

Alastor bared his teeth at you, his tongue licking your cheek.

”My heart and soul…I give it to you” at your words he snapped his hips against yours.

”My complete devotion and love will never waver, for i chose this of my own free will”

Your claws hand sunk into his back, you were trying to focus.

”As a princess of hell and heir to the throne, I grant you any desire you wish…Ah!…”

A soft golden glitter mixed with the green magic, popping noises filling the room.

Alastor's hand was around your throat, holding you into the bedding as his cock pounded that sweet spot inside you.

The hand holding your thigh, was damn near pushing it to be beside your head, opening your cunt to his merciless pounding.

”Al!” You cried.

”You” he hissed lowly, you almost missed it up.

”I want you. I want you to be my mate, as you should be. I want to see you swollen with my seed, ma cherie. To be properly mine and claimed.”

Your magic surged and Alastor’s hips faltered when he felt your cunt fluttered and squeeze around him.

He felt the warmth of your magic in him and moaned as he pushed into you.

“You’re gonna let me fuck a spawn into you? Gonna let me ruin this royal womb? Oh what a treat you would be, a hellish princess carrying the Radio Demon’s spawn oh hoo ”

He crackled as you arched, mewling as his pace grew harsh.

”O-oh fuck! Fuckfuck! ah ah AH ha a-a-h Al!”

A red mark graced your lower belly, the royal seal.

It prevents you from being impregnated.

But with each drag of Alastor’s cock and magic, you watched as pieces disappeared.

“C’mon baby loosen up. I wanna make sure you take all my cum. Dont want a single drop wasted”

He rolled over, catching you off guard. You blinked down at him as you sunk down onto him.

He shot you wicked smile, fluff wild “Just wanna see when you fall apart on my cock”

He thrusted up and you keened, bracing yourself against his chest.

You were gorgeous as you rode the demon. Red horns like a crown as you threw your head back in pleasure.

Alastor wrapped your tail around his arm and growled when you pushed down on him.

Whipped cream gathered at his as you dragged your walls over him, throwing your assinto his thrusts

 ”pretty pretty princess. Such a slutty pussy that wants to be filled. that’s a good girl, you take my cock so well doll. You want my cum?”

You whimpered, nodding “yes yes yes please cum in me. Breed me. O-Oh ha! Al! Let me have your babies please OH fuuuuuccckkk I want it I want it so bad.” Your claws played with your clit, making your orgasm buzzed, golden magic sparking.

You let out a sharp cry as your back arched. Alastor dug his claws in your hips and pounded you out until his cock twitched and the mark on your belly melted away.

Your cunt squelched and your back burned.

”Fuck fuck fuck!”

Alastor growled as his cock dumped his cum inside you.

You crashed against Alastor’s chest, large wings erupting from your back, shielding the two of you in a cocoon.

You tried to move your hips, but Alastor held you fast as rope after rope of creamy spunk painted your walls.

He had returned back to semi-normal. He pressed a kiss to your forehead “Fuck darlin such a good girl.”

You purred as you changed back.

You ran a hand over your belly, blinking to find it was bulging softly.Alastor chuckled “Seems I might have overdid it just a bit”

You nuzzled into his neck “Mhmm not quite…” you sunk your fangs into his neck, making the demon hiss and bite into your shoulder.

You gasped as you felt the last restraint snap and his cum flood your womb, you wiggled your hips, milking his cock.

Alastor let out a hum “ So perfect and all mine.”

You giggled sleepily. “hmmm.”

Your soft snores filled the room.

Alastor’s ears flicked as he watch little flecks of magic danced around the two of you.

He felt kind of bad for having you cockwarm him so he slid himself out. The magic swirled around your womb, sinking into your skin. He watched in wonder as your bulge slowly went down and a soft glow shone where your mark was.

Wonder what that was about?

————————————————————————————

“Oh my gosh! Look at you! Your horns! You look like mom. Oh Satan Dad’s gonna flip” Charlie said as she pressed her hands against your swollen belly.

You chuckled at your sister. You could handle your father.

The hotel was shocked when you had announced you and Alastor were having babies.

yes.you heard right.

 Babies.

 Two!

Twins.

Alastor couldn't be more smug when the two of you walked around the city. He was very entertained by the whispers and stares that were thrown around.

The Princess of Hell was having the Radio Demon’s spawns.

Isnt the Princess engaged?

How dare he?

How is the king gonna react?

This will bring shame to the realm!

You were six months and soon your father will be coming to take you to meet your ‘betrothed.’

—————————————————————————————

Your tail swished in annoyance as you crossed your arms, staring at your father.

The Goetia Prince looked between you and Alastor nervously, Alastor flashing him a sharp smile as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

Your father was seething.

Horns standing tall, eyes red, a ball of fire raging, wings and tail out, and ahh the seraphim eyes.

Daddy was piiiissssed.

And you didnt care.

”what the actual FUCK?!” He bellowed, eyes narrowing on Alastor.

”YOU DARE SPAWN WITH MY DAUGHTER?!”

Alastor hugged you into his side, grinning like a little shit as his hand caressed your swollen belly.

“She was quite adamant Your Majesty. Who am I to disobey my Princess?” His grin had flames pooling from your father’s palms.

You cleared your throat, addressing the Goetia “You can go back home. The marriage is off” the demon blinked and looked to your father. 

“Angel you dont understand-”

”No daddy you don’t understand! If you can be casted from Heaven for love, why can’t I rule Hell with mine?”

Lucifer faltered, eyes dimming.

He watched as Alastor comforted you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He looked at you the way Lucifer looks at your mother.

With complete and utter love, adoration,and devotion.

His eyes drifted to your stomach.

You were pregnant and happy.

Lucifer sighed and approached you, making your horns curl in warning.

Lucifer looked at you.

You looked just like Lilith. You were happy and so in love.

He sighed seeing the ring on your finger.

He wondered where you got that stubbornness from?

your mother no doubt

”Fine fine” he sighed, making you calm down.

”I am to be a grandpa it seems! I-I can’t wait.” He smiled at you making you smile back.

”What am I suppose to tell my father?!” Oh he was still there?

Lucifer blinked in confusion and shrugged “Im sure he can overlook this mishap”

”Mishap? Mishap?! Your daughter is a whore! A mockery of He-AAAAHHHHH!”

You smiled happily as Alastor let out a burp “Thank you Al”

He kissed your cheek “No one will insult you in my presence. His screams were exquisite”

Lucifer cleared his throat as the two of you made heart eyes at each other. “Sooooo twin spawns? Yippee”

You laughed rubbing your belly “Things are gonna get busier around here.”

————————————————————————————-

Alastor leaned down to kiss your forehead, looking at the bundle in his arms.

”You did wonderful my love”

You hummed as you rocked the other bundle.

”YOURE OKAY! I was so worried. You were screaming and then we heard nothing” Your sister cried bursting into the room, Lucifer entering behind her.  You smiled at your twin’s rambling. Charlie fretted over you before settling on the bundle in your arms.

She squealed “Are they-?”

”Met the newest additions to the family”

You had given birth to twins. 

A boy and a girl.

You were holding your baby boy, cooing at the babe who looked at you curiously.

Baby boy was the splitting image of his father, except he had your rosy cheeks and and cute nose.

 Baby girl took all after you. Pale skin, rosy cheeks, tuffs of blonde hair and little wings tucked and curled.

Alastor nuzzled your mini version.

“What you gonna name them?” Charlie asked cooing at the babies.

You turned to your father “Alastor and I thought it would be best if you name them dad. You know the whole angelic thing” you smiled.

Your father’s lips wobbled at your words.

Alastor handed you your daughter and you adjusted both fawns in your arms.

Your father placed his hands over them and a soft golden glow appeared. 

“The Son of the Morningstar shall be called Abaddon”

Your son giggled as magic danced around him, red eyes glimmering in delight.

You placed a soft kiss on the boy’s fluff and handed him to his father.

”A Daughter of the Morningstar shall be named Azrael”

You snuggled the fussy girl who calmed at your touch.

”The blood of the Morningstar shall be blessed as long as the eternal flame blazes. Amen”

You smiled and let out a tired yawn.

”Alright I think that’s enough excitement for one night.” Alastor rushed Charlie and Lucifer out so you and the babies could rest.

Alastor slid beside you on the bed and used his tentacles to put the twins to sleep.

You leaned against his chest, eyes heavy as you smiled up at him.

”was this everything you envisioned?”

Alastor grinned down at you, before taking a long look at his fawns, he looked back at you and hooked a finger under your chin to capture your lips in a kiss.

”Hmmm its much better my dear. Much better”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x reader #jyoongim #alastor the radio demon #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor x morningstar reader #charlie morningstar #lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you

[tinyluvs]

Can I get a fic of Reader slapping Spencer's butt for the first time randomly while he is making coffee or walking by and he does know how to react and Reader thinks his confusion is the funniest thing ever. (Up to you if you want to extend it further iykyk)

the mental image this gave me is *chefs kiss* tyyyy so much

the smell of coffee starts to fill spencer's apartment, you give a small sniff to the air, trying to figure out what coffee pods he's using but to no avail, you can't work it out from the bed

with a yawn, you wander down the hallway, smiling to yourself when the sound of classical music pours out from a distant radio, "morning," you hum as you round the corner into the kitchen

spencer startles slightly but turns, back resting against the countertop as he looks at you, all gentle eyes and a soft smile, "morning honey, coffee?" he asks, tilting his head slightly

"please," you answer simply, pulling yourself up onto the corner of the counter. you start to sway to the music, not a personal choice but definitely not the worst thing you could be listening to early in the morning

you watch as spencer finds one of your mugs and one of the pods he had bought specifically for you, "do you want breakfast?" he asks, pushing the mug under the stream of hot water

"no thanks angel, just coffee for now," you mumble through another yawn. he hums, acknowledging your answer while his back is turned towards you.

the coffee machine splutters quietly and seconds later spencer's pushing your coffee mug along the counter with a gentle smile and a nod.

you mornings are always the same. you get your coffee, silently sipping it while your boyfriend moves around the kitchen, making his breakfast without saying a word, just the radio playing softly

by the time you're done with your coffee, spencer has already finished his cereal. you hop off of the counter when he starts to roll up his sleeves, kitchen sink filling with warm water

"thanks pretty boy," you giggle, finally feeling alive and not like you're sleep walking. you reach round one side of his body, dumping the mug into the sink before passing behind his back and without thinking, you slap his ass, not hard but just hard enough to make a sound

spencer makes a noise you've never heard before, a mix of a grunt, shriek and a shout, which makes you jump and whip around to face him again, "what was that? what is wrong with you?" he gasps, eyes wide as his hand flaps to turn the taps off

"have i never slapped your ass before?" you ask slowly before biting down on your bottom lip as you attempt not to laugh at the look of pure horror on his face

his eyes somehow widen even further, just for a second, his head shaking slightly, "what? no!" he huffs, brushing the butt of his trousers with both of his hands

the whole ordeal is too much and it forces you to break out laughing, your hand on the counter as you double over, "i'm sorry," you struggle out between a cackle and a cough

"no you're not," spencer grumbles, arms folding over his chest, "why on earth would you do that?" he asks, seriously, glaring at you fiercely.

it takes longer than you'd like to admit before you're recovering, standing up straight, hands wiping a stray tear off of your cheek, "it's just something people do when they're in relationships, spence," you explain

your boyfriend looks at you completely unconvinced, "why?" he asks again and you're sure you can almost see the cogs turning in his brain

you shrug, "because, people like it, i don't know," you take a step towards him and he takes a step back causing you to snicker, "why, didn't you like it?"

"no!," he shrieks too fast but then his eyes soften and he thinks, hard, "actually, i don't know, it surprised me too much," he says quietly, a red blush passing over his cheeks quickly

your laughing and giggling subsides, "want me to do it again?" you ask, softly, not wanting to make him feel embarrassed about anything

"not now,' spencer says slowly, starting to back away from you, "would probably be awkward now, right? right,” he asks through a nervous chuckle as you start to stalk after him

you hum, not a yes or a no as your eyes travel down to his hands, moving to cover his butt, "spence, i want a kiss, i'm not going to attack you," you do giggle this time

spencer makes a slight oh sound before crowding into your space for kisses, lots of little ones, tasting like coffee before he's kissing you a little longer and slightly deeper. he gets distracted, his hands sliding over your waist, just like you knew he would

"aha!" you cry, victorious, as both of your hands slap at his ass before he knows what's happening. you turn on your heel as he gasps, loudly, taking off back towards the bedroom

"i'll get you," he shouts, only a few steps behind you. it's your turn for your hands to shield your butt now, zigzagging your way down the hall until you're launching yourself into the air and landing on the bed, pressing your back down into the mattress with a giggle

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

❥ spencer reid masterlist !!

+

i like to think that spencer does like it, eventually. blushes when you walk past n gently tap at his ass BUT going up stairs in front of you gives him the FEAR to the point you just tease him about it

#❥ my works #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #❥ my spencer works #❥ spencer reid #❥ spencer reid fic rec #❥ spencer reid drabbles

[reiding-writing]

Hiiii, first of all i wanna say congratsss!! You’re an amazing writer and i LOVE your stuff! Secondly, i would like to mention that i’ve never actually made a request before so bear with me 😬 Okay okay, so i was wondering if you could write cold!reader with angsty prompt 28. "I can't believe I didn't see that coming." and general prompt 23. “I thought I’d lost you.” Maybe spencer gets hurt and reader shows emotion (maybe some tears) and the team is all like ???

(feel free to ignore this btw 💗💗)

CLOSE CALL [CLIMACTERIC]

28. “I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming.”

23. “I thought I’d lost you.”

WARNINGS: fem!reader, guns, hostage situation, character death, reader is her typical rash self, happy ending

spencer reid x cold!reader || hurt/comfort || 2.8k ||

a/n: thank you <3 i’m honoured to be the conduit you chose for your first request and i hope this is what you envisioned 🫶

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ cold!reader masterlist!!

event masterlist!!

Spencer’s hands shake so much as he pulls off his bulletproof vest you’re not sure how he has enough articulation in his fingers to do so in the first place.

“Reid, you’re not ready to do this.” Your words aren’t as harsh as they are truthful, but it cuts him down the same anyhow. “Let me or Hotch do it.”

“No, I need to do this myself,” Spencer shakes his head determinedly, and if he wasn’t so focused on the sheer amount of adrenaline running through his veins right no he’d probably be proud of himself for standing up to you and not just following your word as law, but alas, the only thing he could feel right now is absolute dread. “He won’t listen to you.”

Why was it always him that got personally involved with the unsubs? It was like they were a heat-seeking missile locked only onto his location.

Literally locked onto his location in this case. He’d seen him —Daniel as he called himself— on the train home from work, in the coffee shop he frequented, the local library, and he swears he also saw him parked in his apartment building’s parking lot.

It was like he was silently screaming at Spencer to notice him, and when he finally got to speak to the man, he asked for help. He was afraid. He was afraid of himself because he was having horribly intrusive thoughts that made him want to do terrible things and he viewed Spencer as his only scapegoat. Pros and cons of being all over the news for his job he supposes.

Spencer really did try to help him, but every suggestion he made was shut down like they weren’t good enough, like Daniel wanted Spencer to physically go into his brain and remove all of the faulty parts that were making him feel insane.

Spencer’s help just wasn’t good enough, and it lead to multiple people dying as a result.

And now Daniel was holding a woman hostage in her own house.

How was he supposed to not feel solely responsible for that?

Spencer had to be the one to speak to him. Not you or Hotch and your negotiation training, him and his personal connection to all the deaths that had happened because he wasn’t able to help someone that was begging him to save them from their own mind.

He practically shoves his revolver into your hand as he commits to going inside, taking a second to regulate his breathing before emerging from behind the SUVs to approach the closed front door, leaving you all in wait, guns raised at every window in the event that something goes wrong.

Something was bound to go wrong.

“Reid the minute that something feels off you leave, understand?” It technically wasn’t your call to make, but as you spoke into the small radio on your chest you weren’t really thinking about that. It’s not like Hotch would disagree with you anyway.

There’s a few seconds of silence over the radio, even though you know he heard you from the slight jolt in his spine as he reached the front door of the house. “Reid. Tell me that you understand that.”

“Copy,”

You had half the mind to drag him back into the car from that response alone. He clearly wasn’t listening to you, not properly anyway, and having such an emotional involvement in something like this was going to get him killed if he treated it the wrong way.

“Be careful,” Hotch was less antagonistic in his warning, but it held the same message.

Spencer threw an arbitrary thumbs up above his head before knocking on the door of the house and entering slowly with both his arms raised.

Then it was a waiting game. A stalemate where you had to sit with your guns trained and just wait for any sign of change. It was like absolute torture.

It was virtual silence and tumble weeds for the best of five minutes, and then there was a loud gunshot sound that echoed from inside the walls of the house, and all of that waiting felt for naught as you pressed the button on your radio with a steady stream of trepidation raising in your throat that he might not answer you. “Reid? Reid come in.”

You wait for something to come from the other side of the radio, even if it’s just the crackle of static from him pressing the button without actually speaking into it. But all you get is silence, and it makes that sinking feeling grow until you literally feel like you’re about to throw up your stomach.

You don’t think twice about running towards the front door of the house after you don’t get an answer, ignoring the calls of Hotch for you to back down and let SWAT take care of it so he didn’t possibly lose two agents instead of just one.

He knew you weren’t going to listen to him either way.

You open the door with your pistol raised at your eyes, the weight of Spencer’s revolver tucked into the waistband of your jeans acting both as an instrument to ground you and as a torturous reminder that the gunshot you heard couldn’t have possibly been from him.

It had to have come from Daniel.

Logically you should’ve swept the ground floor first before rushing straight into the dining room where you knew the three had been last, in case Daniel had left the room and approached you from behind.

You don’t of course, and you kick open the barricaded dining room door with enough force to splinter the door frame holding the hinge pin in place, the door hitting the wall with a thud.

The sight you’re met with is not what you expected to find.

“Reid—” You drop your gun to your side the second your eyes land on the back of his head, his back to you and his eyes locked on Daniel, lying on his back on the dining room floor with a bullet hole to the side of his head, his blood slowly pooling on the linoleum.

The woman he had hostage was alive too, thank god, practically trying to melt into the corner as she cried into her hands, obviously still in shock over what happened.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see that coming,” Spencer’s words didn’t feel like they were coming from himself as he spoke, his voice feeling detached from his consciousness as his mind focused on fully comprehending the situation.

“I can’t believe how stupid you are—” Your body forces a sharp breath to leave your mouth as it cools don from the adrenaline rushing through your system, and you pull Spencer backwards by his arm to stop the blood from Daniel’s body reaching his shoes. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I just- I don’t know,” Spencer gives up on trying to find an explanation for his actions before even really thinking about it. He knows there’s no use, because he really wasn’t thinking, it was just acting on instinct.

“You see this Reid?” You give the radio on his chest a pull with your hand, causing him to stumble forward towards you in the process. “It’s a radio, use it.” There’s no denying the insurmountable rage in your tone as you berate Spencer for his carelessness, something that he most definitely deserves as he stands there nodding at you like an idiot.

You let go of his radio with a small push, sending him stumbling backwards this time, and you take a second to compose yourself before pressing on your own radio to communicate with the rest of the team. “I’ve got Reid and the hostage alive. The unsub shot himself.”

“Copy that, we’re coming in.”

Hotch’s voice may as well be a leaf in the wind as Spencer puts his full focus into how absolutely furious you seem with him.

“I’m sorry—”

”Sorry isn’t good enough.” You ignore the arrival of your teammates in the house, how they carefully guide the hostage outside to get her looked over by the ambulance waiting outside and how they secure the scene for the forensics team to deal with. “You cannot throw your life away by running head first into a dangerous situation knowing you can’t defend yourself.”

“I thought—”

“What? That it’d be fine? That you all of a sudden had all the training you needed to talk down an armed serial killer with serious delusions that could leave you as his next victim?” Maybe you we’re being a bit too harsh on him, but it was important he understood exactly what could’ve gone wrong. “You might be a genius Reid, but you are the dumbest goddamn person I have ever met.”

Spencer presses his lips together into a line at your declaration, lowering his head until his gaze is firmly planted on the floor.

“You are not an expendable resource, you can’t be replaced, and you need to understand that before you throw yourself into a possible line of fire do you understand me?” You ignore the lingering gaze of Hotch as you continue your verbal assault on Spencer, and you know you’ll probably get an earful yourself for being so hard on him, but he gave you a real scare, and you were expressing that to him in the way that suited you most.

“Yes I understand, I’m sorry…” The slight waver of his voice as he responds to you is enough to knock your anger down a peg, and you drag your hand down your face with a sigh.

“We were scared for you Reid, you could’ve died.”

“I know…”

You give another soft sigh at the voice he barely keeps his voice controlled as he whispers out his answer to you, on the verge of tears from your thorough verbal assault.

“Don’t do it again. I thought I’d lost you.” You lift up one of your hands to put it on his shoulder, although it lands closer to the curve of his neck, prompting his face upwards to meet your eyes once more. “And as much as you can be idiotic, the team needs you alive.”

He gives you a soft hum as an answer this time, not trusting his voice to not crack if he were to speak properly.

He tries not to focus on the warmth of your hand on his neck, nor on the fact that you’d said ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ when talking about being concerned for his safety under fear of only worsening his attempts at keeping himself composed.

Your gaze softens marginally as you spot the glassiness of his eyes, and for a second he swears that the protective shield you cover yourself with disappears to show the amount of concern you truly felt for him.

“I’m okay… I promise,” He nods softly at you with rounded eyes. He’s mildly flattered by how much you care, but he doesn’t want you to show it as concern, positive emotions suited you much better he thinks.

“You’re lucky, and it won’t last forever,” You use you hand against his shoulder to turn him around, pushing him gently towards the front door and using the opportunity of him not facing you to swallow the start of your own tears, clearing your throat into your elbow as he takes your lead in leaving the house.

“Reid,” Hotch is on top of the two of you before you even walk out the door. “Go and meet Morgan by the ambulance, I want you checked over,”

“But—“

“Go,” Hotch’s inherent ability to be authoritative trumps Spencer’s resistance immediately, and Spencer begrudgingly leaves your side with a small “yes sir,” to go and be checked out by one of the EMTs.

You attempt to follow him at first, but you’re promptly stopped by Hotch raising his hand in your direction, and then gesturing you over to him.

“Berating somebody for running into a dangerous situation head first with how you responded is very—“

“Hypocritical, I know,” You interrupt the end of Hotch’s sentence by finishing it yourself. “But if he hadn’t gotten into that situation in the first place then I wouldn’t have had to respond the way I did,”

“I understand you care about Reid,” Hotch crosses his arms over his chest, and although there is zero malice in his expression or his tone, you can still tell that he’s not exactly happy with you right now. “But you also need to be more careful with how you handle yourself,”

You narrow your gaze at him a little, and he mirrors it right back at you. “You can’t worry about keeping Reid alive if you’re not alive yourself, you need to be more careful, understand?”

“Yes sir,” The words are almost begrudging as they leave your mouth, but you know he’s right really. Running in after Spencer without a second thought and then berating him for being reckless was hypocritical, and you probably deserved to be reprimanded for it.

—

“You really gave her a scare you know,” Morgan speaks, prompted by Spencer’s very obvious lingering glances in your direction as you speak with Hotch.

“I know,” Spencer sighs dejectedly as he finally removes his eyes from you to allow the paramedic in front of him to check his pupillary response. “She made sure of that,”

“She cares about you Reid,” Morgan gives him a squeeze on his shoulder. “You’re gonna give the poor girl a heart attack if you keep this up,”

“That’s quite dramatic, the chances of somebody going into cardiac arrest from shock is extremely low, only 5% of all cases, and technically it would actually be cardiogenic shock, which isn’t a heart attack,”

“It’s a figure of speech Reid,” Morgan gives him a small playful shove after the paramedic has finished his evaluation, rolling his eyes. “Point is, you scared her, and I don’t know whether to be amazed or concerned at the fact that’s even possible,”

“She’s just as likely to be afraid as anyone else,” Spencer bites his cheek at Morgan’s declaration, unsure whether he should feel guilty or flustered at just how much you seemed to care about him, from the words of the rest of the team anyway.

“I mean yeah we were all worried about you, but she ran head first into the house with a potentially manic shooter inside, by herself, after Hotch told her to wait for backup,” Morgan gives Spencer a light nudge with his elbow, raising his eyebrows with an amused expression. “You know what I call that? Favouritism,”

Spencer lets out a small airy laugh, shaking his head as he stands from the edge of the ambulance.

“Face it pretty boy, you’re stuck with her for life, even if it means she follows you into an early grave,” The teasing in Morgan’s voice is unmistakeable, but his words ring truth either way. “Let’s just make sure you don’t end up in an early grave alright?”

“Yeah—” Spencer lets out another small breath through his mouth as Morgan pats his hand between his shoulder blades, gesturing for Spencer to follow him towards the rest of the team with a nod of his head.

Spencer doesn’t want to cut himself short just yet, especially if that means you’ll serve yourself the same fate. Although the idea of having you accompany him, even if it did mean in whatever lies after death, didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #climacteric 🪶

[verstappen-cult]

# PINING IN ANTICIPATION | MV1

Neither you nor Max know how it started but it made you feel better and that was enough for him.

Pairings: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader. Content Warnings: +18, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming, a lot of feelings, hurt/comfort.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬 : okay, so, this was gonna be a porn without plot kinda drabble but this thing came out instead. please don’t expect anything fancy because i really suck at writing smut.

Max opens the door before you could even start to question yourself.

He’s surprised to see you knocking on his door at two in the morning. You start to regret coming to him when you see him rub the sleep from his eyes. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” You look down, choking on a sob. “Hey, hey, what happened?”

Max is by your side in a second, wrapping an arm around your waist to guide you inside his apartment. He doesn’t let you go until you’re sitting comfortable on the couch, tucking your legs beneath you. 

“Did something happen?” 

“Had an awful fight with mom,” You fidget with your fingers, the corners of your eyes already filled with tears. “she said really mean things.”

Max reaches out and grabs your hand, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, he’s very familiar with the relationship you have with your mother because it is pretty much the same relationship he has with his father. Actually, when you first met, you bonded over the awful parents and experiences you had as kids. 

“Couldn’t stay home alone.” You say, shyly. “I’m sorry for coming at this hour.”

“Don’t worry about that.” 

The silence stretches between you two. Max looks carefully as you get lost inside your head, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. He can almost hear your thoughts. He knows what you need, the only thing that makes you feel better and gets you out of your head. 

Max doesn’t know exactly how it happened. One moment you’re in the brink of an anxiety attack and then, in the blink of an eye, you’re sitting on his cock, face buried into the side of his neck as he rubbed your back up and down.

It wasn’t sex because you didn't kiss, there wasn’t some awfully awkward dirty talk and neither of you came at the end — well, not that you know. If Max had to lock himself in the bathroom after you fell asleep because he was still so painfully hard, it’s definitely not something you need to know; he still feels disgusting and will take that secret to the grave. 

You didn’t talk to each other for at least two weeks after that. Max wanted to reach out but you were ignoring him, and he wanted to give you space to sort your head out. And when one day you sat down next to him and started to apologize and ramble about not wanting to lose him because he’s just so important in your life, Max was finally able to relax because you were fine. Everything was fine. 

You had a long conversation. And it was that day when Max learnt that what you did was called cockwarning and it was actually something people do to feel better. For you, it was about feeling physically as well as emotionally close with the other person, so, that is why it was so easy for you to do it with Max, you felt safe and you trust him. You also explain to him how, when things are just too much, feeling that deep pressure inside of you as well as the warmth emanating from a body under yours is, somehow, enough to stop your mind from reeling with questions, and feelings, and emotions. 

Max actually googled it. He opened an incognito tab and typed the words. He doesn’t know how much time he spent reading about experiences and actual studies about something that he had never heard of before. But it was like you said—many people do it because they feel safe that way, others because they don't want to think and it’s the only way they can relax and go into something called sub-space — Max didn’t do research on that because it was too much information and he just couldn’t handle it — while others do it just because they like it, no real meaning behind. 

You promised it wouldn’t happen again.

And, well, you should’ve known better. 

After the second time, you came to an agreement. Max would help you because he’s that good of a friend and cares about you. And because he didn’t want you to be looking for somebody else who could help you if you already felt safe with him. 

He never found it weird, and you appreciate that. 

So, now everytime you feel overwhelmed and can’t get out of your head on your own, Max is there to help you. Even if all you want is to just sit on somebody’s cock and pass the time, relax. He doesn’t care. 

It’s good that after the second time he was able to gain some control and not embarrass himself and you in the process. Max still feels like, one way or another, he’s taking advantage of you and you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had to assure him that it is not like that and if you ever feel uncomfortable you will tell him. 

“Y/N?” He rubs the palm of your hand but you don’t look at him. You don’t react, not when he lets go of your hand and kneels in front of you and not even when he cups your cheek with his hands. “Hey, Y/N, I need you to get out of that pretty head of yours. Could you do that for me?” Max sighs in relief when he finally sees your gaze focusing on his face after what feels like hours. “There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The corners of your mouth go up to form a sad smile. 

“You need my help?” Max asks, thumbs caressing your cheekbones. You nod, but that isn't enough. “You know we don’t work like that. I need words.”

It’s not the first time that the way he speaks to you sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve just become pretty good at ignoring it. 

“Yes,” You breathe out, closing your eyes to center yourself and stop the whine threatening to leave your lips. “I need you.” 

“Good,” He almost says Good girl, but holds his tongue. “You want to go to the bedroom?”

You shake your head. You don’t feel strong enough to walk there. “No, it’s okay. We can do it here.” You say in a small voice. “I’m really sorry for coming. “I’m fine, okay? I just need to relax an—”

“Hey, don’t, okay? I told you to come to me when you needed me. Night or day.” He reassures you, but you still feel like crying. “You think you can wait for me? I need to go get something.”

“No! Wha—why?”

Max tries not to laugh but you’re pouting and he finds it cute. “I need to get the lube,” Your pupils are wide and a faint bush covers your cheeks, because he doesn’t finger you to help make things easier, even though he has said he’s okay with it, you’re not. “I’ll be back in a second.” He leans to leave a kiss on your forehead before dissapearing.

You hide your face in your hands, breathing in and breathing out just like your therapist taught you. Only when you feel like you won’t pass out, you decide to speed things up by removing your jeans. 

You don’t like feeling like this. It’s almost comical that after all this time, knowing how your mother is and how always will be, she still has so much power over you. A few mean words and you are ten years old again. You can’t hate her, she’s your mother after all, but you’ve tried, only God knows how much you’ve tried to hate her and not come back running back to her when she tells you some nice things. It’s a vicious cycle that not even with therapy you’ve been able to stop.

When Max comes back he finds you sitting on the couch only in your underwear. You avoid making eye contact, feeling a little embarrassed for not wearing your cute lingerie. You chastise yourself for going there because this is not about sex, and it’s definitely not the first time that Max has seen you like this. 

When you look up, he’s already watching you. “You okay?” You nod, not trusting your voice. 

You break eye contact when Max moves his hands toward the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“You need help?” 

You see Max smiling from the corner of your eyes. “No, I already took care of that.”

Max is quick to shove his sweatpants down his thighs and join you on the couch. He pats his thighs and opens his arms for you, and you’re immediately moving to straddle his lap. You steady yourself grabbing Max’s shoulders, hovering over his lap and looking up to the ceiling as he busies himself opening the lube and dripping some over his cock. 

Your heart skips several beats as you look down to find him stroking himself to spread the lube. You’ve seen him do the same thing at least four times but you still feel like passing out every time you see his big and skilled hand move. Not for the first time you let yourself wonder how would his fingers feel inside of you. 

Max grabs your waist with one hand and uses the other to run the tip of his cock through your folds. You close your eyes and stop breathing as he, finally and slowly, sinks into you. You bite your lips trying to get used to the stretch, Max rubs circles on your lower back as he lets you adjust. You’ve done this quite a few times but you’re still not used to it. 

“You can—” You sigh, opening your eyes but Max is not looking at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He focuses his attention back on you, and smiles. You try to smile but your expression changes when you move all the way down, a whimper leaving your lips at finally having his cock buried deep inside of you. 

Max groans, grabbing your waist with more force than normal before letting go and, instead, grabbing the cushions by his sides. 

You lose the grip and wrap your arms around his neck, immediately resting your head on his shoulder and relaxing against his body. “Thank you.”

Max makes a weird noise, but you feel him nod. He lifts his hands and places them on your waist, fingers already caressing your back, sides and neck. 

Max turns his head just enough to be able to leave a kiss on your cheek before going back to his initial position. He reaches for the remote and turns on the TV, choosing to put on some comedy film as a background. 

The only thing you can feel and think about is his cock inside of you, making you feel so full, and the warmth emanating from his body, grounding you and, at the same time, making you feel like you’re floating around. There are no bad thoughts, you’re not thinking about the fight you had with your mom anymore. 

You’re not actually too lost inside your head, the walk to Max apartment helped you clear your mind a bit. You’re still a little shocked by the words and things your mother did, definitely, but once you reached Max building, you were feeling a lot better. If you ended up coming up anyway, well, Max offered to let you sit on his cock overwhelmed or not and you wouldn’t let that offer pass. You don’t know how much time you have together because one of these days Max can find a girlfriend and you will have to go out and look for somebody as understanding as your friend. 

The mere thought of Max with another girl makes you want to throw up. So, you shut your thoughts off. 

You don’t know how much time passes, but your legs start to feel numb and your back hurts, so you shift your weight which makes Max whine, cock twitching inside of you. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, stopping your movements. 

“No, it’s—just,” Max closes his eyes tightly, and you can see a drop of sweat slipping down his forehead. “You just—” He groans, unable to say what he so badly wants. 

You move from your place on his shoulder, eyebrows raised in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing,” Max’s voice is hoarse and the smiles he gives you don't reach his eyes. “Just—lie back down, come on.” He pats your back but you don’t move. 

“Max, tell me.” He shakes his head, dropping his head on your shoulder. “Max, it’s me.”

He sighs, straightening up. His sudden movement makes you both moan. 

“It’s just that,” He takes a deep breath and looks you straight in the eye. “You feel really good.”

His confession makes you want to close your legs which, for obvious reasons, you can’t. You feel your face burning but try to play it cool, like his words didn't have an effect on you. 

“Well, I mean, your cock is inside of me,” 

Max's laugh is strained. “Yeah… I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of this. If you want we can stop and I—”

“Max,” You cup his jaw, feeling the stubble under your palm. “I’m good.”

Max closes his eyes again, this time letting his head fall backwards against the couch. “You know the first time we did this,” He swallows, and you’re mesmerized by the way his Adam's apple bobs. How would it feel to kiss it? “I, God I can’t believe I’m going to say this out loud.”

“Max, come on. Just say it.” You let your fingers fall from his jaw all the way to his neck, just above his Adam’s apple. You can feel under your fingertips how it moves when he swallows again. 

“You will think I’m a perv,” He opens one eye, when you smile reassuringly he opens both. “Please don’t think I’m some kind of pervert but… I had to lock myself in the bathroom to,” He shrugs, doing the movement with his fist. 

“What?” You tilt your head. 

“To jerk off!” He says, frustrated. One of his hands leaves your waist to put it over his eyes.

You blink at Max. 

He looks back at you between his fingers.

His confession makes you feel that something you’ve been trying to ignore ever since that first night. 

“That is totally normal.” You don’t want him to feel bad, so reassuring him that it’s okay is actually the only thing you can do. “As I said, you’re buried inside of me, if you didn’t feel anything then that’s a problem.”

Max sounds a little more relaxed when he laughs again. 

But then there’s silence and eye contact. The only sound in the room coming from the TV and your heavy breathing. 

You feel that shiver running down your spine again, desire pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

“I’m sorry, I’m making this all awkward.”

“No, no. It’s good.”

Max raises his eyebrows in question. 

You decide not to answer with words. Instead, you shift your hips, Max cock impossible deep inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” Max groans, closing his eyes tightly. His hands grab the cushion by his sides again but you want those hands on your waist, your breasts, all over your body. 

“Max,” You whine, grabbing at his shoulder and feeling how tense he is. 

“It’s okay,” He breathes in and out, just like you were doing not so long ago. “it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

You frown, “Max.” You try calling his name again, when he opens his eyes you can see how much his eyes have darkened.  

Max sucks in a sharp breath when you steady yourself by grabbing his shoulders to lift yourself up, pulling almost all the way out and letting yourself fall back down. Max’s moan is obscene. 

“I’m sorry, sorry, oh God, I’m sorry,” You babble, hiding behind your hands. What the fuck are you doing? “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey,” He calls your attention, taking your hands and pulling them away from your face. Max cups your jaw guiding your face to look at him. “You want this? I need you to tell me because,” Max gaze falls to your mouth and he brushes your bottom lip with the pad of his finger. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

You nod, but then remember that he likes to hear you. “Yes,” That’s all Max need because he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, almost hugging you, and lifting you to pull out and then fuck back in. It nearly leaves you breathless. 

You gasp, grabbing onto him for dear life. It’s inevitable for you to look down and watch how his cock pulls out and then back inside, stretching you so good. 

“Look at me,” Max says, grinding his cock deep inside of you. And you have no choice but to look back up at him. The expression of pure pleasure on his face makes you clench around him, which takes another obscene moan out of him. 

He feels so good. 

You want to tell him how good he feels. How good he’s fucking you but you’re only capable of incoherent sounds, moans and whimpers. 

“Max,” You choke on a moan. One hand leaves your waist and slips under your shirt to pinch at one of your nipples. You actually have to put a hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. 

“I want to hear you. Please, let me hear you.” Max practically begs and how could you deny him that? The next time he does it, you let him hear you. And probably the whole building too. “Good girl.” Your cunt squeezes him tightly as he rolls his hips into yours. “You like that, don’t you? You like being my good girl?”

“Yes, yes,” If you had the strength you would be bouncing on his cock, but you can barely hold onto him as he fucks you nice and hard. “Max, Max.” His name falls like a mantra from your lips. The squelching sound of him pounding into you, mixed with the moans and groans fills the air around you. 

“You feel so good— fuck, so fucking tight.” Max groans into your ear. His thrusts are deep and rough, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and nails dig into his skin, knowing you’ll leave marks that will last days. 

Max leans closer and licks a stripe of sweat from your neck and, somehow, is enough to make you hit your peak. You walls clench around him, like you’re actually trying to suck the life out of him.

“Max, Max I’m so close,” At this point you don’t even know if you’re whispering or screaming, but Max hears you either way.

Max expertly finds your clit and, right on cue, your orgasm comes crashing upon you, warmth washing all over your body as Max keeps on fucking you, searching for his own release. 

“That’s my girl,” Max breathes out, movements faltering. “I’m gonna come, fuck, gonna come inside of you.” Max feels his orgasm like he’s experiencing it for the very first time, like he was waiting for this moment his whole life. And he probably was, really. 

Max squeezes his eyes shut, hips stuttering and your name falling from his lips as he spills inside of you. Your whole body gives up. You’re glad Max is there to hold you close to his body. He pants in your neck, both of you trying to catch your breath and thinking about what the hell has just happened? 

“Did so good for me, sweetheart.” He whispers, leaving a kiss behind your ear. He doesn’t move more than to settle against the cushions with you on top of him and his cock still buried inside of you. And you feel so dizzy and stuffed full of his cum that the only rational thing you think about doing is to lift your head and kiss him. 

Max whines into the kiss. He doesn’t care that the kiss is messy because you can’t coordinate and are so tired you feel your body going limp, but he lets you kiss him until you need to catch your breath. 

He smiles softly at you. “That was good, uh? I bet you don’t even remember why you came here in the first place.”

“Oh, shut up!” Max likes making you blush, so he won’t ever shut up. 

“You know,” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, fingers lingering on your neck. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I always wanted to—“ He sighs, and you lean into his touch. Max feels like his heart is about to explode. “I didn’t think I could ever have a chance with you.” 

“What are you talking about?” You squeak because surely he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. Because that would mean— 

“I’m saying that you are,” He kisses your cheek. “the most,” Now, he places a kiss on your chin. “beautiful, and smart, and sexy,” Max leaves kisses all over your face. “girl I’ve ever seen in my life.” Finally, his lips find yours, but it’s quick and not enough. You want to keep kissing him for the rest of your life. 

“Max,” You whisper, tears in the corners of your eyes. “You—I,” You groan, letting your head fall against his forehead. “You know I’ve been crazy for you my whole life, right?” 

“No, that I did not know.” He’s teasing you, you hear it in his voice. “Well, maybe I had my suspicions.” 

“Max! You never say anything?” A thought crosses your mind and you feel mortified. “I feel like I took advantage of you now.” 

“What did you say to me? You would’ve told me if you weren’t comfortable. And I would’ve done the same thing.” You pout and Max can’t help but think, again, that you’re the most beautiful girl in the entire world. “When all of this cockwarming thing happened, I thought it was the only way I could be close to you. And I was helping you in the process, so I was more than happy with being just that.” 

“I didn’t keep coming back to you because of my feelings,” You start saying, playing with the collar of his shirt. “but because I’ve always felt safe with you. I knew—I know I can trust you. I mean, that became clear when you offered to let me sit on your cock the first time.” 

“I did not do that!” 

“You totally did!” You laugh with your whole body because you’re that happy. But that makes you shift your hips which makes you wince at feeling Max softening cock still inside of you. 

“You good? It wasn’t… too much?” He sounds insecure, you see it on his face too. It’s cute.

“It was pretty good, Max. If not I wouldn’t have let you fuck me.” Max rolls his eyes, chuckling, and you rest your head on his shoulder one more time.

“You want me to pull out?”

“No, just—hold me, okay?” Max makes a pleasing sound, lips finding your temple. 

“Always.”

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fluff #f1 grid x reader

[cheriladycl01]

Against the clock - Pierre Gasly x Driver! Reader

Plot: You realize going into turn 12 of the Shanghai Circuit that your brakes aren't working that well. So what happens when they fully break going down the longest straight into a hairpin?

Credit to russellinatussle for the GIF

Y/N Radio: Y/N- Breaks are feeling loose Engineer- Copy that we are checking them now. Engineer- All seems fine, push it down the straight Y/N and you have a chance at a podium Y/N- And the car is okay? Engineer- Data says ...

Before anyone can react warning signals come all up around the car, your breaks had fully locked up and you were currently going over 200 mph down the straight of the Shanghai Circuit.

Y/N Radio: Y/N- Guys i cant do anything. I cant stop the car. I'm so sorry i...

And with that they heard and saw the crash of you skidding over the edging and your car flipping over into the bumpers. The sound of the crash was horrific and your engineer was panicked as he heard your grunt and whimper on impact.

Y/N Radio: Engineer- Y/N can you hear me? Are you okay? Engineer- Y/N Please are you okay? YN? Engineer- She's unresponsive! Horner in the Background- Keep trying to reach out to her while the medic gets there.

You were laying unresponsive in the car, half out of your seat and your head dangling down to the floor on your tilted car. However, the front half had snapped of and the engine was now leaking the racing fuel all down your suit. One spark from your car and you'd be toast.

Piastri Radio: Oscar- Was that Max or Y/N? Engineer- Y/N Oscar- Is she okay? It looks really bad! Engineer- Red Flag Oscar that's a Red Flag

You started to come too, you look around confused as to the position you were currently in. You grunted a strangled cry coming from you as you tried to move from the sheer pain coursing through your body. Tears come out your eyes in frustration of the situation.

You still couldn't breathe properly it was so labored and the balaclava and helmet weren't helping.

Gasly Radio: Pierre- Karel, is that Y/N in the Red Bull? Engineer- Red Flag Pierre Red Flag Pierre- Is it Y/N? Engineer- Come back to the pits Pierre- Fuck

You eventually had got yourself out of the car by crawling, under and around the halo. Someone reached in and helped grab you hand.

"Y/N are you okay?" the medic asks as he sat you upright on the floor and a shake of you head. You couldn't actually speak right now. Your hands shakily came up to try take your helmet off to help you breath better but your hands were numb and as your tried to peel the helmet off your hands refused to function.

"Help" you said in the quietest voice, what you didn't know what that there was a mic on the medic to pick up everything immediately to the ambulance that was on its way.

It was also going to the paddocks so everyone who could hear's hearts were currently breaking.

The medic pulled the helmet off her, the first thing he saw was the tears lining her face. But after inspecting further he could see red coming from the slit in her balaclava. He ripped it off the hair sticking to her wet and sweaty forehead.

Everyone could see from the pits and everyone was holding a breath as they watched a spaced out Y/N start to fall to the floor. Luckily the medic grabbed her in time holding her up. He inspected the place where her visor had cracked on her helmet and cut her across the cheek.

"Y/N Hey come on, wake up. Medic car is nearly here!" he says to you but your body had become dead weight.

In the pits each garage was as worried as the other.

In RedBull Max was beside himself, he saw you as a little sister and the fact that the crash was as bad as it was had him stood with Christian Horner rubbing his hands together. His headphones were around his neck.

In Mercedes, George and Lewis stood together talking, tears in George's eyes wondering if you were okay. Where you were close to Alex you would also hang out with George and you'd become close with him.

Next was the Ferrari Garage with both Carlos and Charles rewatching the crash with hands over their mouths, and similar vibes came from McLaren.

Pierre was sat down on the edge of his car, head in his hands while trying to listen to his engineer who came next to him.

"Tracks been cleared race is about to restart. Y/N has been taken to the nearest hospital"

"Okay" he says sadly getting back in the car.

All the fans could tell that everyone's minds were elsewhere, the reporters stuttering more as they continued commentating even through private live updates on you condition, and the mechanics were constantly checking their phones.

The race had finished and Pierre had come P4 just wanting the race to be over. Max had come P1 with Lando close behind him and George in P3.

He didn't wait around for the podiums, he went straight to you in the hospital. He saw your parents stood outside the room, they had clearly been crying and you mother was shaking her head at the doctor thanking him. She turned to her husband and cried into his chest.

Pierre however didn't know if this was from sadness or relief.

"Erm hello" Pierre says politely, walking up to them sheepishly.

"Oh Pierre, come here" you mother said pulling him into a hug. He accepted having know your family for a very long time, and he'd only got closer to them since you had started dating.

"Is she okay?" Pierre asks looking over your mothers shoulder to double check.

"Yes, she will be I don't think she'll be racing in Miami but she'll be back for Imola. When they brought her here they thought it was a lot worse, but you know what she's like" she smiles.

"Can i see her please" he asks.

"Of course hun, we'll wait here"

He walks into your room, seeing you sat there doing tests with the doctor where he was shining a torch in you eyes to check your responses.

"Y/N?"

"Pierre! Oh I'm so glad you here! How did the race finish they refuse to tell me! Did Max win!" you ask sitting up straighter seeing your boyfriend.

"Red Bull through and through" he shakes his head chuckling at you coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What do you mean baby?"

"You dont care where you boyfriend ended up?" he laughs looking at you in shock before you slam your hand up to your mouth.

"Look, I'm gonna blame the pain meds they've put me on. That shit is fire" you exclaim looking at the doctor who is looking between you and Pierre who is trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Well, Max came P1, Lando came P2 and Lewis P3. I came behind Lewis in P4" he smiles, thinking that despite the circumstances this was his best drive of the season.

"God, I'm going to have to crash more if your getting P4!" you laugh and he looks up shocked shaking his head vigorously.

"No way. I never want you getting in a crash again ma cherie. We were all so worried" he answers, pulling you in a little placing a light kisses on your head.

"I love you, P but I'm really sleepy" you admit, the meds starting to take affect and make you drowsy.

"I love you too"

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n

[roadkillremi]

Kinktober

2 out of 11

Overstimulation

Ghost face X Reader

MasterList. Kinktober

Summary : Ghostface using you <3. Any male Ghostface from series or just Ghostface. No specific setting in time (1996-2022) characters are 18+

Warning : Minors DNI, mentions friends teasing reader, death threat, knife, language, overstimulating, p in V, oral (f receiving)

You laid on your stomach doing homework on your bed. You hummed along to whatever song was playing on the radio. You sat up closing your binder from school, you got up walking to your desk.

Ring ring

The landline echoed throughout your house. You hopped up walking to the phone.

"L/N residence how can I help you?" You put the phone on your shoulder as you walked to the fridge.

"Uh, who is this?" A deep voice rasped. You laughed softly, "You tell me! You're the one who called.". He chuckled, "That's true.. so what are you doing?".

"Getting a snack. I have loads of homework." You complained. He sighed deeply, "You never told me your name..".

"I don't give out my name to creepy guys on phones." You snapped back. He went silent, "You think I'm creepy?".

"I don't know you tell me." You pulled out a drink from the fridge and closed it with your hip. You walked over to the table placing your drink down.

Thud

You looked down the hall, "Still there?" The voice cooed. You swallowed, "Yeah. Sorry. Listen imma have to go im busy... I'm really sorry but I can give you another number to call." You offered.

"Wait.. no I was just getting to know you." He whined. You sighed, "well maybe if I bump into you around town you can say hey.". You hung up placing the phone back in the receiver. You grabbed your drink walking over to your room. You turned on your radio on your dresser. You began to dance slightly to the music. You placed your binder in your bookbag and pulled out a text book. You hummed and swayed your body to the song.

Ring

You sighed before looking down the dark hallway. You sped walked towards the phone picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Why'd you call me back?" You huffed.

"I got lonely.". You walked towards your room, "Well, I'm busy.".

"Come on just talk to me." He pleaded. You rolled your eyes, "No, I have stuff to do.".

"Yeah like dancing?" He spat. You widen your eyes and froze.

"What?" You glanced around the room.

"You heard me." He teased. You bit your lip, "This isn't funny.. Nicole if this is you-"

"It's not Nicole!" He fussed. You gripped onto the phone panicking.

"Don't worry I won't hurt you ..." he cooed. Your chest burned as you panicked more.

"Don't worry..." he continued to coo at you. The phone hung up, you heard heavy steps from the hall. You backed up towards your window. A decently buff figure stood in the doorway. You breathed heavily, when you blinked tears fell. He stepped closer to you, "Please don't kill me..".

He stopped tilting his head, you looked up at him. He stepped closer causing your back to hit the wall. His pointed his knife towards your chest.

"Please don't... I never did anything wrong! I never even had a boyfriend. I come home to curfew on time! If anything I'm the most boring person to kill.." you trailed off.

"Never had a boyfriend?.." he gently spoke. His voice box covered his actual voice. You nodded feeling a bit embarrassed.

"yeah." You panicked

"We can change that." He grabbed your arm forcing you on to the bed. You sat up staring at his mask. He held the knife up to your chin.

"Die.. or let me have you" he whispered. You stared into the black eyes of the mask. You took a Shakey breath, maybe your friends wouldn't make fun of you if you lost your virginity.

"You.. you can have me.." you whispered.

"good girl" he smiled. He quickly slid your shorts off, he chuckled looking at the damp spot. You closed your legs in defense. He forced them back open pressing the knife against your thigh.

"Sorry..." you whispered. He hummed cutting the sides of your underwear. He shoved the fabric in his back pocket under the cloak. His gloved fingers traced your opening barely touching.

"Better not waste time.." he mumbled. He took the cloak off revealing a long black sleeves shirt. He unzipped his jeans quickly taking himself out. He grabbed your hips shoving himself in.

"Fuck!" You yelped. You closed your legs around him. He opened them back up and slammed into you. You winced, "Not.. not used to this..".

"I don't care." He groaned. He let out a low moan holding himself deep inside you. You squirmed not being able to take his length. He held your thighs up as he continued to thrust. One of his hands went to your clit, he pressed his thumb down.

You whined moving into his touch, he grunted pushing your hip down. You whimpered arching your back, "It's too much!". He kept thrusting into you digging his fingers into your thighs. His other fingers punched your clit as he shoved himself into you. You let out a loud moan and gripped your bed.

He pulled out stroking himself, you whined clenching around nothing. You tried to reach for your clit to continue the pleasure. He smacked your hand causing you to yank it away. You huffed watching him stroke himself at a steady pace. He grabbed your hips standing you up. He laid down, "you're gonna do as a I say." He demanded. You nod softly, "Climb up to my chest " he whispered. You crawled on top of him sitting on his chest.

"close your eyes. And I swear if you open them I will end your pathetic life." He growled. You closed your eyes, he shuffled beneath you before pulling your hips.

He placed your core on his mouth, his nose rubbed against your clit. You moaned out moving your hips along his face. You felt the cold blade against your stomach causing you two stop.

His tongue twisted around your hole. His fingers splayed against your thighs. He sucked your clit lightly rubbing his teeth against it. You shivered at the feeling, he let out a soft groan. He forced your hips further down on his face. His tongue darted in and out of you. His nose continuously bumping into your clit. You arched your back as you tried to hold off your movements.

He lifted your hips up and slid his mask back on. You whined flickering your eyes open. His gloved digits entered you as he watched your face relax. He then quickly took it out hearing a car beep. He picked you up off of him and got up.

"what?" You sat up confused.

"Gotta go.."

"but I didn't even come!" You complained. He looked back at you, "Maybe I'll come back...".

"Oh..." you stood up. He put himself back together as if nothing happened. He opened the window and looked back at you.

"close your eyes." He whispered. You closed your eyes as he said. You waited patiently for anything, you worried he was going to stab you. Instead a soft pair of lips pressed against yours. You gently touched his forearm leaning into it. He backed away going out your window.

All Male Ghostfaces :

Tag list -

@hurlonsororitygirls @sanzumylovee @katie-tibo @horneybeach1

#scream #horror #ghostface #randy meeks #billy loomis #randy scream #scream franchise #scream 2 #billy loomis x y/n #charlie walker #ethan landry #mickey scream #ghostface x y/n #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x oc #billy loomis x stu matcher #scream 1996 #scream movies #scream 4 #scream 5 #scream 6 #stu macher x reader #stu macher smut #scream smut #billy loomis smut #roman bridger #scream x you #scream x reader #scream x oc

[clusterbuck]

"Visiting them at their place of work" for buddie :3

Calling it the shift from hell might, in hindsight, be overselling it a little bit. It’s mostly just… annoying.

They keep getting called out for things that end up not actually being calls.

There’s a fire in a public park, but it turns out someone just had an incident with a birthday candle, and the whole thing was stamped out between someone calling 9-1-1 and the 118 actually getting there. Buck vaults out of the engine, already half-reaching for the hose, and stops like he’d slammed into an invisible wall when he sees the small, scorched-out circle of grass. It’s not even smoking anymore.

There’s a patient who got stung by a bee and went into anaphylactic shock, but by the time they get on scene all that’s left is an overzealous passerby. “I told her I called an ambulance,” he said, “But she stabbed herself with her Epi-Pen—”

“—Injected,” Hen mutters.

“—And called herself an Uber.” 

Buck sighs.

There’s a report of a missing child, only three blocks from where they are, and they race to the scene with lights and sirens blaring only to find the mother clutching her son and crying tears of relief. It turns out he’d just been hiding behind a planter, watching an army of ants march by with their bounty from the nearby food court.

And Buck isn’t mad. Of course he isn’t. He can’t be mad about a child not being missing. 

But he is, however, full of adrenaline with no place to go, which might be clouding his judgement a little as he texts Eddie this is the shift from HELL.

Then the radio crackles, and they’re off again. 

Three non-calls later, there is a decided tension in the air as they pull into the app bay. 

“Did anyone say the q-word?” Chimney asks. “There’s something wrong with this shift. Come on, fess up, we won’t bite.” 

“Much,” Hen mutters, as all eyes turn to Ravi. He holds up both hands in protest.

“Not me,” he says. “I learned my lesson the first time. Promise.” Then he frowns. “Does anyone else smell… cheese?” 

Chimney rolls his eyes. “Nice try,” he says. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, you kn—”

“No, wait,” Hen says. “It kind of smells like—”

“Cheese,” Buck agrees, trying to figure out where the smell is coming from.

Behind him, someone’s phone lets out a camera shutter sound. He turns to find Hen aiming her phone at him, thumbing at the volume button but not looking the slightest bit contrite.

“You’re sniffing the air like a literal dog,” she says, shrugging at him. “I figure Eddie’s gonna get a kick out of it.”

Heat flares across Buck’s cheeks, and Hen grins. “You ever going to do something about that?” 

“I—” Buck says, and dismisses each of the seventy-three things he could possibly say in response. Because—

“Guys,” Chimney says from outside the engine. “It’s Eddie.” 

Buck scrambles to his feet and out of the engine. It’s Eddie could mean any number of things. Eddie could be hurt, or dead, or—

Or standing at the loft railing next to a towering stack of pizza boxes. 

Which makes a lot more sense.

“Heard you guys could use some lunch,” Eddie calls out. Then his eyes land on Buck, and his face cracks into a smile Buck is already starting to think of as home. Any lingering annoyance at the morning they’ve had melts away, replaced with a warmth that floods through him in time with the racing beat of his heart. 

Ravi cheers, and they jostle and elbow each other on the way up the stairs. Everyone descends on the pizza boxes, but Buck joins Eddie at the railing. 

“Hell might have been a tiny bit of an exaggeration,” he admits.

Eddie laughs, bumping his elbow against Buck’s and sending shivers radiating from the place they touched.

“I know,” he murmurs. “I checked with Maddie. But it sounded annoying, so—”

Buck swallows any other words Eddie might have intended to say. 

It isn’t the first time he kisses Eddie, but it can still be counted on just his two hands. He’s still learning the way Eddie fits against him, the current that runs through him when their lips touch. He’s still surprised by the way Eddie’s hand fists in the front of his uniform, like now that they’re finally this close he never wants to let go again. 

Buck grins, and feels Eddie’s mouth curve in unison with his.

“To be clear,” Chimney calls out, somewhere behind them. “I also appreciate the pizza. But I will not be doing all that.” 

Buck laughs, holds his middle finger up in the vague direction of Chimney’s voice, and kisses Eddie again. 

send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸

#911fic #buddie fic #leothil #ask emma #emma writes #hiiiiiii don't know what this is but it is etc etc

[lumi-nescentt]

I'd Run Away And Hide With You

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: mention of Jos Verstappen, a bit of swearing

Words: 1.5k

Summary: Your boyfriend is determined and passionate, you love that about him. But when things get tough, his father's voice is a little too present in his head so you're here to remind him of who he really is.

A/N: I was watching the last season of Gilmore Girls and after seeing Logan and his Dad argue, I thought I could write something similar with Max, enjoy :)

This race weekend had started pretty well as usual. Max was doing great and had qualified first, Lando had invited you and your older brother to watch the race from the McLaren garage since he knew your brother was a big fan, everything hinted that the weekend would be great. Max’ family was here so you being at McLaren was actually a good thing even though Max wished he could have had his good luck kiss. 

However, from the moment the rain had started falling, you could tell something was going to go wrong. Spa was a pretty dangerous circuit with this weather and most of the drivers slowed down a little to be safer, the memory of the accidents still too fresh in everyone’s mind. 

Max and Checo had been battling all race for the lead because of a slow pit stop that had fucked your boyfriend’s advance. You could tell Max was fuming from his radio message just like everyone else but you also knew that when Max got like that, he wouldn’t stop until he had pushed too far.

Your brother could tell how stressed you were because of how Max was driving so he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. While every driver was driving at a reasonable pace, conserving the speed but driving more carefully, Max was pushing harder than ever to pull away from Checo. 

Inter tyres were definitely not meant to be pushed as far as Max was doing and you stopped breathing a few times as he went wide at a few turns, brushing the walls with his front wing. GP was trying to convince him to slow down and settle for the 2 seconds gap he had but Max’ mind was set on doing better, 2 seconds wasn’t far enough from Checo. Not when most of his mom’s side of the family was in his garage watching him. 

After a few more laps of arguing between GP and the Dutch driver while Max pushed as hard as ever without being able to really pull away, you heard Christian’s voice on the radio ordering Max to stop his little tantrum and listen to his engineer, shutting him up for a second before letting out a groan of anger as he finally lifted his feet from the throttle.

The whole message had been broadcasted and you couldn’t escape the comments about Max from reaching your ears. It was always the same thing, your boyfriend had too big of an ego and didn’t know when to back off, he was selfish and relentless. He was always a villain, someone who ruined the fans’ excitement, never a talented driver with a steel strong determination. 

If the comments didn’t seem to touch Max on the outside, you knew him, the real him. Jos was hard on him but Max was harder on himself behind closed doors. He said the comments didn’t matter as long as he was winning but deep down you knew Max wished he could have it all: the wins and the fans’ love. 

Even though he’d never admit it out loud, the Dutchman wasn’t as tough as he tried to appear. You had seen him shed silent tears out of frustration after he got called hideous names again for just being good at his job. You knew the comments from today would hurt him and that he would probably be harsher on himself than usual. 

The end of the race was even worse, Max’ tyres were done for but pitting would have gotten him out of the points so he was forced to stay out as he tried to wrestle the car through the sharp and quick turns of Spa. With so little grip, Checo was quick to overtake him even though Max didn’t go out without a fight. 

His determination had come back to bite him quickly because George had used the opportunity to get closer to the Red Bulls and he was right behind Max’ rear wing for a few laps. On the last lap, George finally overtook the Dutchman as your boyfriend cursed harshly, not realising that his message was broadcasted. 

The podium finish should have been a good thing but Max was brooding as soon as he took off his helmet. Nico Rosberg tried to wrestle more than a two word answer out of him during the podium interview but without success. Max was pissed and everyone could see it. 

As soon as you were sure he’d be done with his media duties, you excused yourself from your brother and sneaked off to the Red Bull garage, hoping to arrive there before Max lashed out.

You quickly climbed the stairs to his driver room, offering a sympathetic smile to his PR officer who was in an animated conversation with Christian before knocking on the door. Not hearing an answer, you got inside slowly not knowing what to expect.

Max was sitting on his couch, eyes closed, fists clenched and headphones glued to his head as you recognised some rock song he listened to when he wanted to forget about everything. He didn’t even flinch as you sat down next to him, only removing one side of his headphones so you could put your head closer to him.

-" I'm proud of you Max." you whispered with your head on Max' shoulder

-" Don't lie to me, please." he answered, removing his headphones completely but still not looking at you

-" When have I ever lied to you ? And why would I even lie, darling ?"

-" I don't know but if you're really proud of me then the bar is pretty fucking low because I was shit out there and you know it. My dad knows it, I know it, my whole family knows it and every single person with eyes saw it." Max muttered standing up abruptly

-" You know being first isn't always what matters most, right ? I'm proud of you because you did your best to hold on. Yes, it didn't go the way we wanted but what happened is done and that doesn't change how I feel about you. Everybody makes mistakes, Max. What matters is how you deal with it afterwards."

-"I can't deal with your pity, stop." he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose

-" I'm not pitying you Max, it's called being supportive and being here for the people you love."

-" I don't need your support now, it won't change what happened !" Max lashed out, immediately regretting his words when he saw the flash of hurt on your face 

-“ I don’t care if you want or need it. Like it or not, I’m your girlfriend and I love you so I won’t let you beat yourself up over one mistake you made.” you snapped back, Max’ face softening at your words

-"Listen love, I know you're trying to cheer me up and everything but I really don't have the energy for it right now."

-" Max come on, I'm not asking you to go out and celebrate with everyone. I just want you to come back to the hotel with me and have a quiet night in instead of working all night and torturing yourself over something you can't change"

-" y/n, stop. I don't want to fight so please can we not talk about this because my dad is probably gonna be here any second and I don't want to argue with you and him on the same night."

-" Darling we're not arguing. If you don't want to talk about it, fine but can you at least let me stay with you ? I don't want you to be alone."

-" I'm not sure, schatje. My dad will definitely be in a sour mood and you being here while he calls me a failure again isn't really something I want happening."

-" Max, look at me." you say, gently raising his chin with your hand when he doesn't comply " You're not a failure, never been one and never will be. You making a mistake doesn't take away from all the great things you've accomplished, alright ? I know racing is your whole life but the Max I know out of racing is pretty great with or without formula 1 and he's far from being a failure."

-" Thank you, love. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you earlier, I know you're trying to help. I just can't get my dad’s voice out of my head sometimes and I guess I don't want him to end up lashing out on you too if you stay."

-" Don't worry about earlier, I know that wasn't really you. You're not your dad, Max, you're so much better than he ever will be. Let him come at me for all I care, I won't let him say a single mean word about you or me."

-" You're cute when you get protective, you know ? Come here." Max says opening is arms for you

-" I was going for intimidating but I'll work on that before I see your dad again." you smiled, placing a kiss on Max' cheek

-" Do you still want to get out of here ?"

-" With you ? Always."

-" Let's go then, we have a movie night waiting for us, schatje."

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #f1 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fandom #f1 scenario #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n

[bitchinbarzal]

Fuck me, I’m Famous | J Hughes

summary: jack has to come clean about who he really is and it’s not received well.

-

“So what do you do for work, Jack?” You ask, swirling your wine in the glass.

You watch his face contort into something resembling a thought as he said “I work in… sports”

You smile “Oh! So you’re like what? A P.E teacher or football coach?”

He swallows thickly “Something like that”

“Oh, that’s so cool! You must have so much fun with the kids” you beamed.

Jack felt bad, you seemed so interested in his fake job.

He diverted the conversation quickly “So what is it you do? Do you work with kids?”

“Oh no! I wish but in New York a teachers salary won’t cut it. I’m a financial advisor and it’s super boring”

He quirks his brow “oh really?”

“Yeah, i actually just started a new job at Prudential? I don’t know if you’ve heard of them-“

“Um Yeah actually maybe I have in passing” he chokes on his water “I think maybe I’ve heard it on the radio or something”

You look at him skeptical look “If you don’t know it’s ok” you laugh “I just moved to the city so I don’t know much about them but I think they sponsor a sports team thats local to jersey? You might know?”

Jack’s face is stuck in his water glass and he shakes his head while making a nuh-uh noise.

Pulling away he says “No, no I don’t think I have”

By the end of the night you’d left Jack with a few stray kisses and promises from him to call you.

He hadn’t called you.

You thought he was ghosting you and had checked every social media platform for a Jack Rowden but you couldn’t find anything.

He really hadn’t called because he’d been on the road for the past two weeks and forgot in the run up to the cup and all the drama surrounding it.

Your boss had invited you out after work with the team, telling you it was a game for the team the organization sponsored.

You’d been given a jersey, the red with the number 86 on the back with the name Hughes written in white.

“So you’ve really never watched Hockey?” Your boss asked, laughing at the way you ogled at the arena below your box.

“No! Never! This looks awesome! And we sponsor this whole thing?”

Your never ending array of questions had to stop the moment the lights switched off and the jumbotron lit up with the teams intro.

You watched like a child at a show, your eyes lit up. Then his face appeared across the screen, your smile dropped and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

You watched as Jack’s highlight reel played on the screen then his smiling face came on at the end with his name — HUGHES

Throughout the entirety of the game you had a scowl on your face, truly hurt by his actions.

During the third period during a break in play the jumbotron showed random clips of the crowd. Jack was huffing and puffing on the bench, watching the screen when your face appeared.

Jack’s eyes went wide as he studied your pissed off expression surrounded by your colleagues all waving for the camera.

At the end of the game, Jack changed as quick as possible and ran out to the parking lot he knew the sponsors were able to park.

He ran down, spotting you headed for your car

“Did you know?!” He shouts, his voice bouncing off the walls and echoing.

You turn around, glaring at him “No, I didn’t know! And no thanks to you for lying — I was here for work! I was completely embarrassed!”

Jack shrinks at the tone in her voice “I’m sorry, okay?”

You chuckle and shake your head “It’s a bit late now, Jack Hughes”

He hears the iciness in your words “I’ve told women before about my career and they’ve just used me for fame!”

You were now close enough to touch, he reached out and you recoiled “Does that give you a pass to lie to me? Did I give you that impression?”

“No! No, of course not! Y/N, i’m sorry I should’ve been honest with you from the very beginning” he admits, he feels like he’s loosing you.

For the first time in a long time he actually liked someone and now he’d messed it all up.

Tears began welling in your eyes as it dawned on you “Were you ghosting me? Did you lie to me because you planned to never see again?”

It then dawned on Jack just how long it had been since he had texted you, scrambling to grab his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through your texts.

“No, no! I didn’t-“

You put your hand up to stop him “Forget about it, Jack” and turned to find your car.

“Please, stop!” He begged, running down after you.

“Forget it Jack! Go lie to someone else and leave me alone!” You cried.

“I really like you, Y/N!” He replied, finger hooking under your chin to tilt your gaze to him “I didn’t mean to hurt you, you’re amazing I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you”

You gaze averted to the floor and you pushed away from him “Yeah I’m sorry too”

And he watched as you climbed into your car and drove away, leaving him standing there silently begging you to turn around.

“Fuck!”

#jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl imagine

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3

Summary: A series of mishaps has you and Eddie (and Grandma and Harris) in the same place at the same time, leading Eddie to let his guard down a bit. That is, until a secret is spilled.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, injuries (nothing bloody or gory), mostly set in a hospital, mentions of Eddie's dad, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 6k

Chapter 3/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

“Har-Bear?” Eddie calls out from the bedroom, pinning his nametag to his shirt. “You tie your sneakers yet?” His son had insisted that he didn’t need help with the laces, that he could do it on his own, but he’d be late for work if he waited any longer.

“Not…yet!” the tiny voice yells back, and Eddie can sense the frustration in his voice. “I think they’re broken.”

“Broken, huh?” Eddie laughs to himself as he walks out to the living room, where Harris is sitting in front of the door. Sure enough, his shoelaces remain untied, and tears roll down his cheeks. “C’mere, bud. It’s okay. I can tie ‘em for you this time.”

Harris shakes his head, brown curls bouncing on his scalp. He mumbles something unintelligible, and when Eddie bends down to help him, he pushes his hands away.

“Harris, enough!” Eddie hisses through gritted teeth, taking the laces and tying them quickly. “You know that you have school and Daddy has work.”

“B-b-but I’m the only one!” Harris wails, kicking his shoes off defiantly. Eddie picks them up with one hand and scoops up his son in the other, tipping towards the couch and hooking his pinky around Harris’s little backpack. He doesn’t have any time to waste; shoes will have to be put on at school. 

Maybe Ms. Sweetheart will have better luck with him, Eddie thinks wryly, wrangling a screaming Harris down the stairwell. 

“The only one what?” Eddie asks once the crying starts to subside.

“I’m the only–sniff–one at school who–hic–can’t tie my shoes!”

Eddie wrinkles his nose as he places a shoe-less Harris in his carseat. “I’m sure there are other kids who are still learning how to tie their shoes.”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, straining against the seatbelt. “All the other kids tie their own shoes, but Ms. Sweetheart or Mr. Will have to tie mine.”

Eddie’s heart sinks as he thinks of his son being the outcast as the freak, the rest of his friends flying past him as he gets left behind. “Tell ya what,” he says finally, mustering up a smile, “I’ll teach you, and you’ll be able to tie them in no time.”

His offer placates Harris, who spends the rest of the time singing along to the radio. Eddie wishes it could always be like this; happy and carefree, just driving and listening to his favorite metal station with his mini-me. Maybe one day it’ll happen, but the fleeting sense of hope disappears as quickly as it comes. His time with Harris might be limited if he doesn’t get his shit together.

The job was a start; he was lucky that the hours coincided with school drop-off and pick-up so he didn’t have to reach out to Wayne. He’d been working at Rock Records for about a week, and while it was a far cry from the stardom he’d once dreamed of, it was paying the bills and still allowed him to spend his time around music. And when his manager–a twenty-year-old named Ash who used her phone line to talk to friends rather than answer store calls–heard that he plays guitar, she’d all but insisted that he give lessons. If he could get Wayne to watch Harris a few days after school, that would be even more money in his pocket.

But, first, he actually has to start talking to his uncle again.

He pulls into the preschool parking lot, killing the engine and hopping out to help Harris from his carseat. When he opens Harris’s door, he immediately deflates.

“Harris, where is your jacket?” Eddie asks, heaving an exasperated sigh.

The little boy just shrugs. “I dunno. At home?” It’s not his fault; the chilly early October air just began settling in, and he’s not accustomed to including his jacket into his morning routine. A look of realization creases his brows, another tantrum on the horizon. “Now I won’t be able to go out for recess!”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says reassuringly, shrugging off his own denim, patch-riddled jacket, “you can take mine.” It’s comically oversized on Harris’s tiny body, but the smile on his face is enough to distract Eddie from the chill settling on his own arms.

“Daddy, now I’m just like you!” Harris sticks out his tongue and makes the ‘rock-and-roll’ symbol with his pointer and pinky fingers, scrunching his big brown eyes shut.

Eddie laughs, taking his son’s hand as they cross the parking lot. The way he copies him is adorable, but there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he pictures Harris actually following in his footsteps.

As soon as he enters the school, Harris lets go of his father’s hand and bounds into the classroom, the jacket dragging on the ground like a regal cloak. “Ms. Sweetheart, look at my jacket!” he proudly announces, twirling around on one leg. “It’s my daddy’s!”

You smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head teasingly. “Harris, is daddy wearing your jacket?”

“Nooooo,” he says, jutting out his chin and giggling. “It’s too small, silly!”

Eddie shuffles in behind him; after a month of drop-offs, he’s realized that he’s never going to win the battle of getting Harris to walk beside him in the hallway. “Don’t forget your backpack, little dude,” he reminds him, handing him his bag and motioning towards the row of cubbies.

Nodding, Harris hangs it up on the hook, along with Eddie’s jacket. He starts to run towards the toy area, stopping when he hears you call out, “Harris…”

“Huh? Oh, right.” He flashes that innocent smile, slowing his pace to a walk.

You shake your head knowingly, grabbing the clipboard with the sign-in sheet from your desk. Wordlessly, you give it to Eddie, who takes it with a sigh. This is how it goes most mornings: he drops off Harris, scribbles his signature, and stalks off without so much as a “good morning.” It’s not ideal, but it’s better than the barrage of insults and snide comments that he seemed to prefer to greet you with.

He drops the clipboard on top of the cubbies with a clatter, turning to the door, but the sound of a child shrieking stops him in his tracks before he can leave.

“Harris, no!”

Eddie’s stomach turns at the way the little girl angrily shouts his son’s name. Harris is frozen in place, holding a weird contraption that Eddie doesn’t recognize. The boy’s lower lip trembles, and all Eddie wants to do is pick him up and yell at the other kid for making him cry, but you get to the scene first.

“Abby, Harris, what happened?” you ask, crouching down to their eye-level. There’s no accusations, just a soothing tone to de-escalate the situation.

“He took my Bop-It!” Abby pouts, stamping her foot in frustration. “He stole it from me!”

Eddie feels his fists clench involuntarily at the word stole. Harris would never steal. He was a good kid, and having the Munson name didn’t automatically make him a thief. He tries to send a telepathic message to Harris, willing him to stand up for himself, but it doesn’t work.

You eye the toy in Harris’s hand–the Bop-It in question, you assume–and meet his shy gaze. “Did you take Abby’s toy?” Again, your voice is free of judgment, and Eddie allows himself to relax ever-so slightly when you don’t automatically take the girl’s side.

“I just wanted to see it real quick!” Harris mumbles, shoulders slumping. “I was gonna give it back.”

“What should you do when someone has something that you want to see?” you prompt him gently, feeling Eddie’s eyes scrutinizing you, analyzing your every move you make to see how you’re treating his son.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, eyes wide and misty.

“You have to ask them and then wait for them to say yes,” you say, and he nods as you swivel to face Abby Carver. “Abby, if someone forgets to ask to see your toy, you can remind them nicely. With an inside voice.”

“But he didn’t even say sorry for stealing!” she whines.

“It was an accident,” Harris rebuts, scrunching up his nose, “an’ I didn’t steal it!”

Breathing out a soft sigh, you turn back to him to end the argument before it can really start. Hell hath no fury like a preschooler scorned. “Saying ‘sorry’ is important, even when we accidentally make someone feel sad or mad,” you tell him. 

“‘M sorry, Abby,” he says, handing her back the Bop-It. You can’t help but notice the way that he tucks his free hand into the pocket of his jeans, just like Eddie does when he’s anxious.

“It’s okay, Harris,” Abby says flatly, eager to flounce off to her friends and show them her toy, as Harris quietly joins some of the other boys to play with building blocks.

You press on your knees and stand up, finally allowing yourself to glance over at Eddie. He gives a tiny nod of acknowledgment; so subtle that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. You’re not exactly sure what it means–thanks or good job or simply I’ll be back for pick-up–but he’s out the door before you can think about it further.

You really should have seen it coming. Should’ve listened to the proverbial alarm bells ringing when you’d heard the shower running. But you were exhausted from a long day at work; the Bop-It situation having kicked off a series of arguments between various groups of kids. At one point, you and Will had given up on storytime and basically played referee, just trying to keep the peace between tiny feuding humans.

You’re scraping the last bits of unfinished mashed potatoes into the garbage when you hear the crash. There’s a clatter of bottles and the pop pop pop of the shower curtain ripping off of its rings. Your blood runs cold and you nearly drop the plate you’re holding, palms suddenly slick with sweat.

“Grandma?” Your voice catches in your throat, a hoarse whisper, and you clear it and try again as you fly towards the bathroom. “Grandma?!” 

There’s no answer; between the steady pounding of the shower and her own declining hearing, you expected just as much. You push open the door that she thankfully left unlocked to find her laying in the tub, tears mixing with the stream of water. She cradles her left wrist in her right hand, mumbling inaudibly to herself between heaving sobs.

“Grandma, what happened?” you ask, leaning over to finagle the knob to the “OFF” position.

She looks up as if she’s just realized you’re standing there, too disoriented and focused on the pain to take in any of her surroundings. “I fell.”

You reach for the powder blue towel hanging on the back of the bathroom door and pluck it off of its hook. “Here,” you say, draping it over her shoulders, “let me cover you and I’ll help you up.” It seems absurd to worry about modesty, given the urgency of the situation, but you can tell based on her sheepish demeanor that the small part of her that still feels shame is pinging in her brain. You tuck your hands under her arms, lifting with your knees and hoisting her to her feet. “Grab the bar,” you instruct her, nodding your head towards the silver safety bar lining the shower wall.

“Can I dry you off?” She gives a small nod, letting go to hold her swelling wrist. “Keep holding onto the bar. I don’t want you to slip and fall again.”

“But it hurts,” she whimpers, and you know this will be a losing battle. Even if she does agree to grab onto it again, she’ll almost certainly forget, and you'll have to start the whole process over. Instead, you carefully run the towel over her, watching as the cloth soaks up droplets and trying not to think about how backwards this all seems. There was a time where she was the one drying you off, lifting you out of your little bath seat in the kitchen sink and cooing at her beloved baby granddaughter, hope and joy filling her eyes. A time where life seemed limitless, and maybe she’d started to slow down, but she’d sworn that she’d always remember this moment. She couldn’t even imagine forgetting you.

Grabbing the pile of clothes from their spot on the tiled floor, you find her shirt and offer it to her. “I can help you put it on,” you tell her, toeing the line of preventing another fall and respecting her dignity.

Grandma’s lips curl into a frown and she shakes her head. “Those are dirty,” she protests.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to grasp onto the last bit of patience you have left. The words, You didn’t even go anywhere today rests on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them down, force a smile, and say, “Okay. Let’s get you to your bed so you can sit down, and we’ll pick out new ones.”

She reluctantly agrees to this, and you slowly walk her to the bedroom and grab the first of everything you can find. A fuschia t-shirt and green sweatpants might not be her best look, but you’re not trying to style her for a runway show. After sliding her fluffy pink slippers over her feet, you help her up and guide her to the door, where she stops in her tracks.

“Can’t wear these outside,” she says simply, pointing to the slippers.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, grabbing your keys from the small table tucked in the corner. “You can wear them outside this time.”

She doesn’t budge. “No, I need my other ones.” Her gaze lands on the pair of white Reeboks resting on the shoe rack. She starts to lean over to take them, but she’s still unsteady on her feet, and you wrap your arm around her torso before she can wobble.

“Just…just sit,” you mutter, feeling anger rise in your chest like a thundercloud. It wasn’t her fault that she was being stubborn, but it didn’t quell the burning frustration. You toss her rejected footwear to the side, silently reminding yourself to pick it up later, and shimmy her feet into the sneakers. You tie the laces into a double knot, pulling nice and tight, determined to keep it from unraveling.

Eddie’s day at work wasn’t much better than yours. After dropping Harris off at school, his first customer had been a middle-aged woman who claimed that a record had been scratched when she’d bought it a few weeks ago, insisting that Eddie had sold it to her that way. Which could have been the case, except he’d only started the job earlier that week. 

All he wants now is a nice cold beer, but he has to wait until Harris goes to sleep. Years of watching his own father guzzle down Johnnie Walker until he fell into a drunken stupor led him to promise never to drink in front of his son. 

“Bedtime, buddy!” he announces. He doesn’t even have to pretend to be excited; the second Harris dozes off, he’s going to crack open that Coors Light and watch the most mind-numbing show on TV. 

Harris throws his head back in exasperation. “But Daaaaadyyyy, I’m not even tired!” His whine pierces Eddie’s eardrum, making him grimace. 

“It’s 7:30, and it’s a school night,” he tells him, keeping his voice as steady as possible. “But tomorrow is Friday, so you can stay up a little later then.” He walks over to the tiny dresser pushed up against the wall, pulling out the bottom drawer and taking out a pair of dinosaur-print pajamas. “C’mon, let’s go. Pajamas, pee, and brush those teeth.”

“I’m…not…tired!” Harris screams at the top of his lungs. His cheeks flush beet-red, and spit gathers at the corners of his mouth. 

Eddie clenches his fist around the pajamas, feeling his fingernails dig into the soft cotton. He inhales for three, then exhales for three, feeling the oxygen flow through his lungs. “Harris,” he manages through gritted teeth, “I’m going to count to five. And when I’m done, I want you doing your bedtime routine, or you’ll go to bed early tomorrow.” He takes one more deep breath, getting to two before Harris angrily snatches the pajamas from his grip and stomps off to the bathroom. 

The boy only brushes his teeth for a grand total of ten seconds, but Eddie doesn’t have the stamina to argue about oral hygiene tonight. Tucking Harris into bed, he leans in to kiss him on the forehead, but he’s met with the back of his head. 

Logically, he knows that there will come a time where Harris won’t want a kiss good night, won’t need his dad to help him into bed. Eddie just hadn’t planned on it being tonight. 

“I hate you.” Harris’s voice is muffled from his lips being smushed into the pillow, but Eddie received the message loud and clear. It reverberates in his brain like an echo in a tunnel: I hate you I hate you I hate you. 

Eddie backs out of the room slowly, flicking off the light and closing the door. He forgoes the shitty TV and sits in silence as he sips on his beer, letting the bitterness seep into his tongue before he swallows. 

The venom in Harris’s voice was unmistakable. Eddie knew all too well how it felt to hate a parent. That raw anger swelled within him each time his father got them thrown out of another apartment, or conveniently forgot to pick up groceries (but always managed to remember his booze and drugs), or put his hands on Eddie. 

My son hates me, Eddie thinks, taking a last swig of his drink and absentmindedly wiping the foam from his lips. I’m a shit dad, and my son hates me. 

He’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts, leaving the sound of squeaking bed springs unnoticed until a loud thud followed immediately by the sound of Harris’s distraught wail snaps him to attention.  

“Daddy!” Harris cries out, and Eddie’s sprinting to the bedroom before he can even finish the second syllable. 

“What happened?” His voice is louder than he intends from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and it only makes Harris cry harder. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he says, softening his tone as he flicks on the light. His eyes widen when he sees the way his son’s arm is twisted. 

“I couldn’t—sniffle—sleep, s-so I—sniffle—t-tried to j-jump my awake out,” Harris explains through hiccuping sobs. “An’ I h-hurted—sniffle—my arm.”

“C’mere, sshh, ‘s okay.” Eddie reassures him as he scoops him up, carefully avoiding his injury. “We gotta get you to the hospital so the doctors can fix it.”

Harris’s lower lip trembles again. “Are th-they gonna g-give me a sh-shot?”

“Nah, they’ll just have to do an x-ray,” he says, grimacing when he thinks of how much it’ll cost, even after Medicaid kicks in. “But those don’t hurt.”

Harris gives a tiny nod, still ambivalent as he nestles his head into the crook of his father’s neck. His curls tickle Eddie, who presses a kiss to the boy’s forehead and murmurs, “Daddy’s here, okay? I got you.” He feels Harris’s uninjured hand grab onto him a bit tighter as he brings him to the car.

“Can we go home now?”

You breathe out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in the chair and bouncing your leg anxiously. Hawkins General Hospital wasn’t crowded, and you and Grandma were taken to a room fairly quickly, but it still isn’t fast enough for an elderly woman who has no idea why she’s here. 

“We have to wait a little longer for the doctor to see us,” you explain for the fourth time in as many minutes. “They have to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” Your answer seems to placate her, at least until she asks again within the next sixty seconds, as she hums her acknowledgment.

There’a a soft knock on the door, and a perky blonde nurse pokes her head in the room as soon as you give her permission to enter. “Hi, I’m Chrissy; I’ll be your nurse,” she says, looking at your grandmother. “What brings you in to see us tonight?”

“I’m just here with her,” Grandma shrugs, pointing to you.

“She slipped and fell in the shower,” you explain patiently. “I know she hurt her wrist, but I’m not sure if she hit her head, and she has Alzheimer’s…” You glance at her uneasily. “She doesn’t even remember falling.”

Chrissy nods understandingly, offering a sympathetic smile as she makes a note on her chart. “I can take you in for an x-ray of your wrist, and then we’ll run some tests to rule out a head injury as best as we can, okay, Mrs…” Her gaze shifts back to the chart before she brings her attention back to you. “Do you teach at Hawkins Preschool, by any chance?”

“Guilty as charged,” you give the best semblance of a laugh you can muster.

“I recognized your last name,” she says as she helps Grandma off of the examination table. “My daughter is in your class. Abigail Carver? She absolutely adores you.”

The compliment buzzes in your chest as your smile becomes more genuine. “Well, thank you. That means a lot. And she’s a great kid, too.” Except when she’s screeching at her friends, you think, but you keep that tidbit to yourself.

“I work nights, so my husband handles the school stuff,” Chrissy explains. “But I’m glad we finally got to meet, even if it’s under these circumstances.”

She hooks her arm through Grandma’s, who promptly shakes her off. “Let go of me!” the older woman snarls, shuffling back towards you. She may not know exactly who you are, but there’s at least a level of familiarity that brings her some comfort.

“I’ll walk with you,” you offer, and Chrissy agrees gratefully as the three of you gradually make your way down the starch-white hallway.

Unbeknownst to you, in a room just across the hall, Harris Munson is showing his dad how he can hop up and down on one leg without losing his balance.

Jesus H. Christ; does this kid ever run out of energy? Eddie silently wonders, but he plasters a smile on his face. “That’s really cool, Har-Bear. Just, uh, sit down before you hurt yourself even more.”

Harris is about to pout when a nurse enters the room. She’s probably in her mid-fifties, Eddie surmises, with brown hair that’s streaked gray and pulled back in a low bun. 

“Harris Munson?” she asks shortly, and Eddie points to the little jumping bean standing next to him. “Come with me to the x-ray room.” She doesn’t offer her name, but Eddie catches a glimpse of the badge on her scrubs pocket that reads “Anna.”

Anna has Harris place his arm on the table, gingerly moving it to take x-rays from different angles. Standing in the doorway, Eddie winces at the tiny yelps his son lets out with each minimal adjustment. “You’re hurting him,” he manages through a bone-dry throat.

“If there is a break or sprain, we need to ensure that we find it,” she explains impatiently, retreating back to the room where she snaps a few more images before bringing them back to the room.

“Dad?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sleepy now.” Harris punctuates his statement with a yawn, laying back on the examination table and dozing off just moments later.

Eddie takes his jacket–the same one that Harris wore at school that day–and places it over the boy’s sleeping body in a makeshift blanket. By the time the radiologist comes in to deliver the results, Eddie’s struggling to keep his own eyes open.

“How’re we doing in here?” she says, watching as Harris stirs, stretches his little legs, and promptly falls asleep again. “Is it past someone’s bedtime?”

“His and mine,” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes and sitting up straighter. There’s a pinch in his lower back from slouching in the uncomfortable chair, and he grimaces as he tries to massage the sore spot. 

“Well, you’ll be out of here soon. It looks like Harris did break his wrist, so we’ll need to get a cast on it, but we can discharge him as soon as it’s done.”

“Brilliant.” Eddie presses on his knees as he stands up to gently shake his son awake. “Hey, bud. It’s time to wake up so you can get a super cool cast.”

“Mmph,” Harris grunts, throwing his good arm over his eyes dramatically. 

Eddie just laughs, not catching the concerned look on the doctor’s face as she flips through Harris’s chart. “C’mon, I’ll carry you, but you gotta help me out here.” Harris begrudgingly complies, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist and holding onto him as tightly as he can.

“It’ll only take about fifteen minutes,” the doctor explains, rubbing Harris’s back for good measure. “You can drop him off in this room, Mr. Munson. One of our nurses needs to speak with you.”

He doesn’t like the look on her face; the one that simultaneously gives away nothing and too much. Her lips press together in a thin smile, one that’s obviously forced, as an orthopedic technician guides Eddie into the next room.

The unfriendly nurse from earlier, Anna, is waiting for him outside the door. 

“Mr. Munson, could I speak to you privately?” Eddie nods wordlessly, traipsing behind her back to the room where Harris had just been sleeping.

“Mr. Munson,” Anna begins, and Eddie swears he’ll punch a hole through the hospital’s wall if she keeps speaking in that condescending tone, “as you know, ensuring the safety and wellbeing of our patients, particularly our pediatric ones, is our top priority here at Hawkins General.” She pauses, as though he’s supposed to have some response to that, but he remains silent. “Given the nature of your son’s injury, coupled with the report that a nurse smelled alcohol on your breath when you entered our facility, we have to report this incident to Child Protective Services.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head; his fists clench involuntarily, and he has to remind himself to steady his breathing. In for three, out for three. “There–there must be some mistake,” he stammers. “I had one beer after Harris went to bed–well, he was supposed to be in bed–and I was well under the legal limit when I brought him here.”

Anna cocks her head, and rage surges through Eddie’s bloodstream at her subtle gesture of disbelief. He didn’t even drink when his son was awake, let alone drive drunk. And the thought of him hurting Harris, whether under the influence of alcohol or not, was enough to turn his stomach. For fuck’s sake, he felt guilty if he accidentally stepped on the kid’s toes.

“Be that as it may,” the nurse continues, and Eddie swears she’s trying to suppress an eyeroll, “I also see that there was a previous report from 1992–”

“When he was born?” Eddie sputters. “That–that had nothing to do with me. His mom…”

Anna glances back down at Harris’s chart and frowns. “It looks like both you and Harris’s mother were listed in that report.” She looks up at Eddie again. “This is out of our hands now. CPS will take over from here and determine the next steps to take.” With that, she walks away, leaving Eddie leaning against the door with tears in his eyes.

All he can think about are the custody papers Wayne gave him. The way he’d angrily torn them up, taking them as a threat, rather than an offer to help. The way he’d blamed Wayne for his life going to shit.

I hate you, Harris had said earlier that evening.

Maybe Wayne was right. Maybe Harris was better off without his dad around to fuck up everything in his path.

You’re waiting at the front desk for Grandma’s discharge papers when you hear an excited voice call out your name; rather, his nickname for you.

“Ms. Sweetheart!”

You turn around to see Harris Munson running towards you, sporting a bright orange cast on his wrist. “What happened to you?” you ask with a smile–a genuine one, this time. That little boy always manages to cheer you up.

“I was trying to jump my awake out and I breaked my wrist,” he says. “So then my daddy taked me here and I got this cast. See?” He holds out his arm two inches from your eyes, as though the neon color wasn’t already a dead giveaway.

“That is the coolest cast I’ve ever seen,” you tell him. “I broke my leg once, and I just got a boring white one.” You pout your lips exaggeratedly, making Harris laugh. “I bet all the kids in school will wanna sign it tomorrow.”

Harris breaks out into a giant grin. “They can sign it?”

“Sure can!”

He thinks for a moment and asks, “Will you sign my cast, Ms. Sweetheart?” He looks up at you with those soft brown eyes, and you feel yourself start to melt.

Before you can answer him, your Grandma speaks up. “I’m leaving,” she declares, already trying to take off the sling that the nurse gave her for her sprained wrist.

“I just need to sign you out, Grandma,” you explain. “And remember, you need to keep the sling on so your wrist can heal.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” she hisses. “I hate you.”

Your face heats up, embarrassed at her outburst and at the fact that it happened in front of a student and his parent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, though you’re unsure if you’re apologizing more to Eddie or to Harris. “She has Alzheimer’s…she doesn’t know…”

You expect Eddie to laugh at your misfortune, but when your eyes flicker to his face, you only see sympathy.

“‘S okay,” he says softly, putting a ringed hand on Harris’s shoulder. “I feel like swearing, too, after the night we’ve had.”

You offer a weak smile, still processing the unfamiliar kindness that he’s showing. “Thanks,” you manage, just as the receptionist hands you the discharge paperwork. “I’ll see you both at school tomorrow?”

“And you can sign my cast!” Harris exclaims, flashing a toothy grin. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You ruffle his hair, leading Grandma out to the car before she can conjure up another slew of swear words.

Eddie wakes up the next morning still exhausted. He rolls over, catching a glimpse of Harris still sleeping soundly in his racecar bed. He’s tempted to let him sleep in a bit, maybe take the day off from school, but he knows how badly he wants Ms. Sweetheart to sign his cast.

Ms. Sweetheart.

He’d been thinking about you all night. The way your calm, confident demeanor had faltered when your grandma cursed at you and said she hated you. The way you caved in a bit, as though her words had punctured you.

You hadn’t reacted like that when Eddie called you a bitch; you’d simply carried on as though the words meant nothing to you.

Because they did mean nothing to you. Because he meant nothing to you. He was just another drop in the douchebag bucket, and once you’d gotten over the initial sting of rejection, you’d moved on. And so had he.

Right?

He tries to shake these thoughts from his mind as he gets Harris ready for school, but it’s nearly impossible when all the kid can talk about is how he saw Ms. Sweetheart at the hospital and how she’s going to sign his cast today.

“She’s the bestest teacher I’ve ever had,” Harris tells Eddie, shoving a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth.

“She’s the only teacher you’ve ever had, buddy,” Eddie reminds him, but Harris remains unfazed.

Sure enough, you’re waiting outside the classroom door, black Sharpie in hand. Harris’s eyes light up when he spots you.

“Ms. Sweetheart! You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered,” you say, uncapping the marker and crouching down to his level. Both Eddie and Harris watch intently as you write your signature, complete with a little heart.

Ms. Sweetheart ♡

“Go ahead and unpack,” you tell Harris. “Once you finish your morning routine, we can have your friends sign it, too.”

“Okay!” He starts to run, but crawls to a stop. “Gotta use my walking feet in the classroom.”

You give him a thumbs-up, turning back to hand Eddie the sign-in sheet.

“I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head incredulously. “I’ve been trying to get that kid to slow down since he learned how to run. Swear to God, he skipped right over the ‘walking’ stage and went straight to sprinting.”

You laugh at his remark, taking the clipboard back from him. “Try the walking feet trick. I’ll let you borrow it, free of charge.”

“Much appreciated.” He starts to leave, but stops before he can fully turn his back to you. “How’s your grandma, by the way?”

His kind gesture catches you off-guard, but you recover quickly. “Already giving me a hard time about the sling, but that’s the home health aid’s problem until I get back.”

Eddie steps forward, awkwardly resting his hand on your upper arm for just a second. He’s not exactly sure what he’s doing, or why, but it felt like the right move. “Well, uh, good luck. With the whole ‘sling’ fiasco.”

“I’ll need it.”

He smiles, and you easily return it. It’s an olive branch, one that you eagerly reach out and take. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever given you.

Eddie’s walking back down the hallway, feeling as though a weight has been lifted off of his overburdened shoulders, when he hears it:

“...reported to CPS. Apparently, this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

No. No. There’s no way that they could be talking about him.

He rounds the corner towards the school lobby to see Carol Perkins talking to Steve Harrington, her hushed whisper not soft enough to prevent other people from hearing.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Yup,” Carol nods. “Something about when he was born? Like, how bad of a parent do you have to be to get reported to CPS as soon as your kid is born?”

Eddie feels the bile rise in his throat. His suspicions are further confirmed when she adds, “And get this–he was drinking when he brought Harris to the hospital. That’s why I’ll never let Frankie play at his house.”

There’s no way he can just walk past them and act like he hadn’t heard anything, so he decides to wait until they finish their conversation. They made him sound like some sort of neglectful alcoholic who disregards his son’s safety. They made him sound like his dad.

As Steve and Carol say their goodbyes, Eddie takes one last glance back towards the classroom. You’re cheerfully greeting an adoring student, ruffling her hair like you did to Harris at the hospital last night.

Eddie sucks in a quick breath. You were there last night. You were also in the orthopedic wing, as evidenced by your grandma’s injury. You had been humiliated in front of him for the second time; the first was when Eddie hadn’t called you after the one-night stand. And now you wanted revenge.

No wonder you were so friendly this morning. This whole time, you were just waiting for him to slip up. Waiting for him to have his moment of weakness. Now he knows better than to trust you. He won’t make that mistake again.

--

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[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You find more comfort in Bradley's home and in his arms than anywhere else. But time is ticking down, and only a win by the Angels on Saturday evening will give you more of both. Bradley tries to make a compelling argument, because he knows it's finally time to start speaking his mind.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, angst, oral and smut (18+)

Length: 7600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You woke with a small jump as soft lips and a bristly mustache met your cheek. "Bradley?" you mumbled as his deep chuckle next to your ear made you shiver. When you started to push the covers off and open your eyes, you felt a hand on your shoulder. 

"I'm leaving for work, but you should stay in bed. You deserve a day off."

Now you were looking up at him standing next to his bed in his khaki uniform with all of his pins and his name tag. And he looked so good, you knew you were staring. It was almost startling seeing him like this when you were so used to all the Padres shirts and snug fitting jeans. Most of the people in his life were probably more used to this look. The Lieutenant Bradshaw look. But it was rendering you speechless. 

"Can I come to work with you today?" you asked him, earning another chuckle. Spending the day at his house doing your laundry, relaxing and eating everything in his refrigerator sounded actually pretty perfect, but you'd just rather be doing all of that with him here, too.

"It's not Take the sports writer you're completely infatuated with to work day."

Now you were the one laughing as you set up in bed and reached for him. "When's that day? I'll make sure I'm off."

He kissed you sweetly as his hand found your hip. "I think it's in April."

You were giggling against his smiling lips when he suddenly groaned. "I need to go. Text me if you need anything? Or if you just want to distract me?"

"I will."

"See ya, Ace."

When you heard the front door open and then close, you rolled over in his bed and buried your face in his pillow. Then you squeezed it to your body. Bradley smelled incredible, especially since you were so used to the sterile bleach scent of hotel bedding and the stale air of ballpark press boxes. You wished you could bottle this up and take it on the road with you. Take a little bit of Bradley wherever you went. 

Before that thought could take further shape, you climbed out of his bed and shivered in just his TOP GUN tee shirt. Since he told you to make yourself comfortable, you allowed yourself to root around in his dresser drawers in search of a pair of socks. Your eyes caught on the frame of his mirror hanging over the dresser, and you smiled at your reflection as you reached up and touched the ticket from game one. It was the media pass he won from the radio program, and you traced the corners of it before you sat on his bed and put on a pair of his comically large socks. 

It was early, but you were hungry, and you found a fully stocked refrigerator when you went to the kitchen. Bradley's home was a treasure trove of things that were normal for other people but not for you: bedding that smelled like heaven and a delicious assortment of fresh food. You pulled out a container of berries and then found oatmeal in his cabinets. Your stomach was growling loudly as you poured yourself some coffee from the pot he left out for you. 

You sat on his living room couch with your breakfast and looked out the window. It was probably always this sunny here, always this inviting. Bradley's cottage was easily five times the size of your apartment, which you rarely thought about beyond it being a place to hold all of your things that didn't really matter. You didn't have time for stuff; just the clothes on your back and your computer. 

When you finished the last bite of oatmeal, you felt tears in your eyes. You were so lonely. You were so tired of forcing yourself to work harder and harder to make up the deficit between yourself and your colleagues. You just wanted to hide here, in San Diego, with Bradley. You felt safe and desirable, and he wasn't yelling at you or telling you that you needed to go to Boston.

You took a deep breath as you went to the kitchen sink with your bowl and mug. There were a few other dishes there, so you washed everything for him and set them out to dry. It had been years since you hadn't done at least a little bit of work on a day off, so you went to get your computer out of his bedroom. But it smelled too good, so you carried your computer back to his bed and snuggled in where you could work on the beginning of your next article before the game tomorrow afternoon. 

Your inbox was completely filled with offers from recruiters with other newspapers and online outlets. You knew some of them would send you a job offer in an instant without even asking you to interview with them. Some of them had even managed to corner you when you were on the job; they knew your schedule as well as you did. You were always sent to the most high profile matches and events. And while some aspects of what they were offering you sounded very enticing, you were already at The New York Times. 

After you took some deep breaths, you deleted all of them and opened up a blank document and got to work. But you didn't get far before you closed your laptop, because writing baseball stats was a lot more fun when you were sitting on Bradley's lap. You decided to text him.

How's work?

Then you remembered he told you that you could check out his collection of baseball cards in the garage. You jumped out of bed and walked down the short hallway, peeking in the extra bedroom on the way. You opened one door, but it was just a linen closet which he actually had organized by color, which you found charming. The next door led you out to the small, attached garage which was also very tidy. You looked at everything on his shelves before you found some boxes that said Nick Bradshaw- Baseball Cards. The marker was very faded on the cardboard, so you slid the first one down very carefully.

When you carried it back inside to the living room, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand. Once you set the box down, you saw that you had a new message from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: Work is not as fun as playing hooky with you. What are you up to, Baby?

You took a selfie with the box of baseball cards which you assumed had belonged to his father. You added the caption 'About to dig through these and swoon all over your living room.'

The collection was impressive to say the least. You didn't collect cards, because you didn't have the time or space for them, but you knew which of his were valuable when you looked through them. You thought about how much fun it would be to organize these a little better with him. Your phone was vibrating again.

Bradley Bradshaw: You look gorgeous. Send me another picture?

You sent him another selfie, and then he asked for another one. This game went on and on until lunchtime when you decided to mess with him a little bit. 

Now send me one, and you'll get something sexy in return.

He didn't respond immediately, and you figured he must be busy. You made a sandwich for lunch and ate it with some potato chips. Then you found his washer and dryer in a little closet across from the bathroom door and started a load of your dirty clothes. And then you got ready to get in the shower. 

Your phone vibrated on the sink vanity, so you grabbed it before you stepped under the spray of hot water. And you almost dropped it when you saw a set of two photos of Bradley out in the bright sunlight in his uniform. In the first one, he was wearing some aviator sunglasses and smirking. In the second one, the sunglasses were gone, and he was smiling. 

"Fuck," you moaned as you looked at the photos, making sure you didn't get your phone wet.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now where's my sexy Ace?

Before you could tell yourself what a big mistake you were making, you snapped a photo of yourself, water cascading down your breasts and a grin on your face. You sent it with the caption 'You look so good in those aviators, I'm about to start touching myself.'

You were standing there thinking about it. Your nipples were hard, and you were thinking about the scratch of Bradley's mustache on your skin. But his next message had your hand pausing before you could touch your clit.

Bradley Bradshaw: Jesus Christ, Baby. How am I supposed to focus when you send me something that good? Don't you dare touch yourself. I want you dialed up to eleven for me when I get home.

And now you were a whimpering mess as you tried to shower without letting yourself get off, wishing you had brought some sexy underwear on this trip with you.

-----------------------------

Well now Bradley was a mess, thinking about your body while he was supposed to be listening to a safety demonstration out on the tarmac. Why had he bothered to come to work today? He should have taken a second day off and spent it with you. 

But you were leaving soon, and that was why he decided to try to keep to his normal routine. And you were exhausted whether you thought so or not, so he wanted you to have time to relax and unwind. 

"Hey," Nat whispered, nudging his arm. "You okay?"

Bradley sighed and nodded, and then he held up his phone with a photo of you with the baseball cards for her to see. Nat pushed him a little further away from the group and hissed, "She's at your house? Are you insane?"

"Nat," he started, running his hand through his hair. "I know-"

"No, I don't think you do, Rooster. You're going to get your heart broken."

He nodded and looked down at their feet. "It's already unavoidable at this point. And she makes me feel so good."

His best friend sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know you're supposed to come to the Hard Deck for Mickey's birthday tonight, right?"

His plan was to bring you along, buy you a few drinks, maybe dance to the horrible collection of songs in the jukebox with you. "Yeah," he replied. "I'll come if she wants to join me, but I don't want you giving her the stink eye all night."

She scoffed. "I'll be perfectly nice to her."

Bradley shook his head, starting to get pissed off. "Will you though? See, the thing is, I'd like to think that I'm not the only one headed for some heartbreak here, Nat. I'd like to think she feels the same way I do. Like maybe I'm too good to be true, too. And maybe spending time with me now is worth the pain later."

Her face softened immediately. "You are, Rooster. You're too good to be fucking true. I promise I'll be nice. At the Hard Deck and next week if you want to talk about it then."

After that, Bradley just left early instead of hanging out on the tarmac with the others. He skipped the showers since he'd barely even done anything today. Then he could get home sooner and see you and just shower there. When he climbed in the Bronco, he texted to let you know he was on his way. And then he sat there with his key hovering next to the ignition. 

You'd be gone by Monday morning. This was the only time he'd ever get to tell you he was on his way home to you. More than anything, he wanted to know if you were falling in love like he was. He wanted to know if there was even a tiny part of you that wanted to stay. 

Ace: Hurry! I'm making dinner. And you should keep those aviators on when you get here... I'm dialed up to eleven.

He shoved the key into the ignition. He was pretty dialed up as well, but he knew it was at least in part because his heart was invested. He lived so close to base, it only took him a few minutes to get home. When he reached to remove his sunglasses and leave them in the cup holder, he smiled. Then he dashed up the walkway to his front door with his keys in hand and his aviators perched on his nose.

You were right there when he walked inside, wearing one of his favorite tropical print shirts and a pair of his socks and a bright smile. His house seemed more inviting than it ever had before. It even smelled like you were making something delicious. And then you were in his arms, and his hands were inside the unbuttoned shirt all over your soft skin.

"I missed you. Been thinking about how good you look in this thing all day long," you moaned, running your hands up and down the front of his uniform shirt. "But the sunglasses make it magical."

"I missed you, too." Bradley kissed you as your hands made their way slowly down to his pants. "You had me dialed up all day and I wasn't even with you." He wanted to ask you so many questions right now, but you were kissing his mustache and bumping his sunglasses with your nose while you wrapped your hand around his cock and started jerking. And then he couldn't remember anything except how happy you made him.

When you sank to your knees in front of him, Bradley yanked his aviators lower on his nose. You were smiling up at him as you yanked his pants down a little lower and licked away the bead of his precum before you kissed his tip. "Why is this so hot with you in your uniform, Lieutenant?"

Bradley groaned loudly as you took a few inches of him with a smirk. "Why is this so hot with you in my shirt and socks?"

You popped him free and giggled. "All my clothes are in your washing machine. Even my underwear."

"I love that for myself," he grunted as you took him deep. With gentle fingers, he stroked your face as you gave him head in his living room. It was like some depraved housewife fantasy, the way you felt so familiar to him. The way he could smell dinner cooking. The way you bobbed your head and moaned for him.

You sucked on his balls and ran your tongue slowly back and forth as you looked up at him. You had one hand wrapped around his length, and you were touching your tits with the other. Your gaze was the neediest thing he had ever seen as he stroked your cheek. Every time you released him, he groaned for you, and then you just started sucking on him again. He could feel himself tightening up as you kissed his balls and whimpered. 

"Fuck," he growled, hauling you to your feet and getting his lips back on yours as you gasped in surprise. "I wanna fuck you."

"Please," you gasped, nodding and looking toward the couch. 

He shook his head and lifted you up with both hands on your bare ass. "In my bed, Ace." 

"That's even better," you whispered, sucking on his neck and raking your fingers through his hair. "Your bedroom smells like you. I love it in there."

"Fuck," he grunted again, his cock slapping against your ass as he carried you to his bed. And then you were on your back with your head on his pillow as he took off his aviators and tossed them down next to you. His shirt was hanging open on you, and his socks looked ridiculously adorable on your feet, and your legs were spread wide, your pussy already so wet for him. "You are the hottest thing I have ever seen," he announced before burying his face in your pussy and making you scream his name. 

"Bradley!" you screeched and gasped over and over again as he got his face all wet from you before bringing his lips up to yours for a kiss. His uniform pins were brushing against your breasts and you were grinding your pussy against his cock. 

"Shit," he gasped, pulling your lip between his teeth and releasing it. "Where are the condoms?"

"In my suitcase in the hallway," you whimpered. "Skip it if you want. I have an IUD."

And if Bradley thought he was losing his mind ten seconds ago, it was nothing compared to letting himself slip inside your warm, wet pussy with no protection at all. "Ace," he rasped, watching your face as he pushed himself deeper until your back arched off the bed. He fucked you with his hands on your hips until your legs were shaking. You had your hands all over his face, continuously pulling him in for kisses. 

"You feel so good," you gasped, running your feet along his thighs.

He pressed his lips to your ear and asked, "Are you getting close for me?"

"Yes," you moaned, reaching for his hand and drawing it up to your lips. You sucked on his fingers for a few seconds, taking him painfully close to the edge, and then you pressed his fingers to your clit. 

He worked in quick strokes, listening to the sounds you made as you got louder. When you pulled him closer for more kisses, he indulged you before he said, "I wanna watch you come for me, Baby."

And then you did. You came apart with his fingers on your body and his name on your lips. Your face was beautiful as you gasped and babbled nonsense as your pussy drained every drop of cum from him. You were perfect as you reached for him and said, "Now you better kiss me."

You and he had your lips all over each other for so long after you both caught your breath that he was surprised and delighted all over again when he started to pull out of you and remembered he came inside you.

"You're blushing," you whispered as you looked up at him on his knees between your legs.

His cum was slowly oozing out of your opening and dripping down to your ass. "Baby, if you could see what I see, you'd understand." He was transfixed. Obsessed. He leaned down to kiss your pussy and taste himself there, licking along your skin with a soft grunt. 

You propped yourself up on your elbow and tugged him by his hair, and he just knew you wanted to taste it, too. So he kissed you, letting you suck on his tongue. Then he jerked away from you and turned toward the door.

"Is something burning?"

-----------------------------

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Bradley said for the hundredth time as you sat on his couch with him eating pizza. "This isn't as good as yours would have been."

You just laughed. "Seriously, this is probably better. I'm not great at cooking. I was just trying to impress you."

Why exactly, you weren't sure. What difference did it make to Bradley if you could cook a chicken casserole that was good or not? He wasn't yours to impress. You weren't going to be here past Sunday night at the very latest, and that was only if the Angels won game six tomorrow. 

"I'm impressed," he replied, his cheeks a little pink again.

"Yeah," you said, trying to push your feelings to the back burner. "I could tell how impressed you were with me in your bedroom."

"That's not what I meant," he said, looking down at his lap with a frown that made your heart ache. You tossed your pizza crust into the box and climbed on his lap. You and he had taken a quick shower together after he called in a pizza order, and now you were both in your own clothing. 

You kissed him and tried to change the subject. "What time are we leaving for the bar?" you asked. 

When he met your eyes again, he said, "We can go whenever. And we don't have to stay long. Just long enough to say happy birthday to my friend and have a drink?"

You could hardly believe he wanted to take you with him. His friends would want details about who you were and why you were together, so you would just follow his lead. 

It was a short drive in his cool Bronco to the bar, and he sang along to the radio and held your fingers laced with his the whole way. And then he paraded you inside with him like it was the most natural thing the two of you could be doing. "That's Mickey, the birthday boy wearing the blue Captain America shirt. And that's my best friend Natasha wearing the annoyed expression because someone is talking to her."

You laughed, and he leaned down to kiss you as you walked toward the pool table. As you walked past the bar to meet everyone, you noticed the bartender's gaze following you and Bradley as you went. Her expression was one of curiosity as she mixed a drink. 

"Ace, this is Nat," Bradley was saying, and you turned in time to grasp hands with the woman that he referred to as a 'mean little spitfire'. 

"It's nice to meet you," Natasha replied. She didn't look happy exactly, but she didn't look like she was upset that you were here. "I've heard a lot about you."

You looked up at Bradley, a little surprised. "Oh. I've heard a lot about you, too. Bradley said you're smarter than all the guys."

She nodded and smiled. "Yes. Yes, I am. Thanks for acknowledging it, Rooster. You two want drinks?" she asked. 

"Go ahead," Bradley replied. "We'll get some in a minute."

"Hey, Rooster!" Mickey shouted as he waved in between taking shots. 

You laughed. "I don't know if I'd ever get used to everyone using your call sign," you told him. "It's so amusing to me."

Then Bradley wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer. He kissed your forehead softly, but he looked serious. "If you stick around in San Diego, I bet you'd get used to it, Ace."

You swallowed hard as you looked up into his brown eyes. You could tell he was being sincere, which made everything hurt a little more. But you were saved by the group of guys all calling for him. Bradley sighed and kissed your forehead one more time before you and he were absorbed by the group. 

A few minutes later, your head was swirling with names and faces when Bradley asked, "Do you want me to get you a drink?"

"I'll come with you," you told him, and he nodded before taking your hand a little hesitantly. You were confused, because then he wrapped his arm around you just like he always did, and his fingers were softly stroking your side through your shirt. But then when the bartender turned your way, it clicked. She and Bradley had slept together before. You could just tell. 

"Hey, Bradley," she said, already reaching for a pint glass and pouring what must have been his usual beer. The way she looked at him and talked to him was just a tiny bit too familiar. 

"Hey," he grunted before turning your way. "What do you want to drink, Baby?"

You met the bartender's eyes and couldn't help but smile as Bradley brushed his lips along your temple. You weren't his, but he was choosing you right now. And it felt incredible. "I'll have the same thing," you told her before turning your face so he could kiss your lips. 

Bradley dug out his wallet without really looking at her, and she ran his credit card as you sipped your beer. He wasn't being a jerk, and she didn't seem overly jealous, but you just knew they had a past. 

Then the two of you threw some darts and played some pool, and Bradley was more than happy to point out that mini golf was probably your worst game. "Happy to see you can handle a pool cue better than a putter," he whispered with a grin.

"Be nice, or I'll leave my golf ball behind at your place," you replied. 

He looked a little sad as he shook his head. "I want you to keep that." You knew you would, and he knew you would. You could picture the perfect spot for it in your apartment, but you already knew it would never make it there. You'd keep packing that stupid blue golf ball from your date with him in your luggage and take it everywhere with you. 

"Can we go now?" he asked suddenly, his face a little sad. "Back to my place?"

"Yeah," you agreed, and after a round of goodbyes, he led you back past the bar with his arm around you. The bartender tracked your movements, but you didn't care. He was yours right now, the way he was touching you. 

And he was yours when you got back to his house, the way you were touching him. "Ace," he sighed as you rode him in his bed. His body was delicious, but his voice was what had you a mess. "Baby, you're so good. Can't get enough of those little noises. Keep going." The feel of him once again inside you without a condom as he verbally coaxed you to orgasm was only part of what you knew you were going to miss. 

Because the rest of it came next, when he was curled up with you in the dark, quiet room, his arm draped around you, pulling you close. The only sounds were his breath next to your ear and his deep whisper. "Night, Baby."

-----------------------

"Stay in bed," Bradley whispered again. It was Saturday. Game six was this evening, and he was trying his hardest to draw you back to him again. He had successfully made you snuggle in and fall asleep with him again after the first time you woke up.

"You'll mess up my sleep cycle for when I'm in Boston," you murmured before you snuggled against him with the covers pulled up to your chin. "But you're so warm."

Bradley indulged in a brief fantasy where you would fly out to Boston, complete your assignment, and then fly back to San Diego to be with him until you had to go somewhere else. And you'd be here when he got home from a long deployment. Ready to take him to bed and hold him just like this.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked as you ran your nails along his cheek and kissed his nose.

He couldn't tell you, no matter how much he wanted to. "Thinking about how I'm still the worst Padres fan ever. The Angels better win today. We deserve seven games, Ace."

"We do," you agreed, and Bradley was delighted that you fell asleep in his arms again. 

When you and he finally got out of bed, you went to his dresser and pulled on one of his tee shirts like this was a normal occurrence. "Will you let me make you breakfast?" you asked with a smile.

"I was going to make breakfast for you," he replied, patting your ass on his way to the bathroom. "But we could make something together."

You were already in the kitchen, kneeling on the countertop and looking in his cabinets when he came out of the bathroom. "Do you have chocolate chips?" you asked. "We can make chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, maybe some oatmeal. Sorry, I'm just so excited for something other than a free continental breakfast."

He wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you down as you squeaked. "Not up there," he whispered, kissing your neck as he set you on the floor. "In the pantry."

You turned and scampered across the kitchen, and now Bradley was sincerely hoping he had all the ingredients you'd need for pancakes just so he could make you happy right now. "Found them!" you announced, holding up a bag with a smile that made him weak. 

"Let's get started." 

It was too much fun being with you. The pancakes you made turned out beautifully, and you and he ate on his couch again. This time he accidentally dripped maple syrup on his bare abs since he wasn't wearing a shirt. "I feel like you did that on purpose so I'd either buy you another shirt or lick it off of you."

He smirked. "I mean, I wouldn't be mad if you did."

You sighed dramatically as you set your plate on the coffee table next to the box of baseball cards. "Fine. Extra large shirt? You want the Padres this time?" Bradley laughed at your words, and then you leaned down and licked him clean as you looked up at him. Then you climbed into his lap and kissed him. 

"The Angels better win tonight," he murmured against your lips. "I need them to."

"Do you want to go back to bed?" you asked, and he carried you there, expecting maybe some more tongue exploration. But what he got was you curling up in his arms again, your lips pressed to his chest. You were quiet for a bit before you asked him softly, "What would it be like being in a relationship with you?"

This was an echo of his question from Thursday night, and now he could appreciate that he had really put you on the spot then. How could he describe something spectacular that he wasn't going to get to experience with you, in a way that would make you remember him fondly. Bradley made sure his breathing was calm and even as he said, "Probably just like this, Ace. A whole lot of this right here."

You didn't say anything for a long time, and you kept your face buried against him. But eventually you nodded and said, "I would like that."

-------------------------

When Bradley held your hand during the game at Petco Park, everything seemed a bit more somber today. The press box was quieter than usual even though the crowd was going crazy. During the seventh inning stretch, when you leaned in close and kissed his cheek, Quincy turned around and asked, "You bring him to every game now?" as he nodded at Bradley. 

"He's my intern and my sex slave, Quince. And that's strictly on the record." 

But Quincy was undeterred today even as you and Bradley laughed quietly together. "Heard Greg was thinking about pulling you out of here early to send you to the Bruins? He only pays you so much because you're useful to him. Being a woman and all."

Bradley watched your head snap to face Quincy with a look of barely concealed rage. "Try not to cry too hard over the fact that I make more money than you even though you're twice my age." 

Quincy grunted and muttered, "Same old, same old with you. Always gotta be on top. Always gotta get the last word in."

Bradley watched you press your lips together like you were trying your hardest to not have the last word right now. It was obvious that wasn't why you made it as far as you had. It was also obvious Quincy was trying to bait you. Bradley just felt a little bit bad that he could be used as ammunition against you. "You want something to drink, Ace?"

When you nodded, Bradley stood and went to get you a water bottle. "Thanks," you muttered, looking down at your keyboard as he handed it to you. 

"Hey, don't let these assholes get to you," he whispered as he slipped back down into his seat. 

He was drawing little shapes along your back with his fingers as you looked up at him in surprise. "I don't fucking care about Quincy.... the Padres are up three to zip." You laughed sardonically. "You know I'll have to leave in the morning if they win, right?" you asked him.

Bradley nodded. He couldn't even say the words out loud. So he focused on the game and held your hand tight. The Padres were using their relief pitcher a little early, and he looked fatigued. His pitches were wild, and he was walking batter after batter. Then right at the top of the eight inning, Bradley heard the crack of a perfectly hit ball. 

"That's a grand slam," you whispered before the ball was even beyond the fence. Instead of marking it down on your stat sheet, you tossed your pencil aside and kissed him. "Angels up by one run," you said against his lips. 

"They need to hold the lead," he replied, letting his forehead rest against yours. "They need to. I don't care who wins the World Series, but they need to do it in game seven, not game six."

His words made you smile so much, he wrapped his arm around you to keep you as close as he could. And when the final score was the Padres with three runs and the Angels with four, you were practically on his lap. You were even smiling when Greg called you a minute later to tell you to get to Boston first thing on Monday morning after game seven on Sunday night. 

"I'll have to book my flight," you said to Bradley as everyone started to flood out of the press box ahead of the crowd. "But we have two more nights together instead of just one."

You and he were quiet after that, your fingers laced together as you walked out to the parking lot and rode back to his house. He didn't feel like he needed to rush right now as he unlocked his front door and followed you inside. You pulled him in for a kiss that was so sweet, he was surprised. Just your arms around his neck and your lips moving gently on his. 

"We have some time before my midnight deadline. Can we get changed and snuggle in bed like earlier?" you asked him, your eyes closed as your lips hovered near his. "I want to change into your Padres jersey."

Bradley had goosebumps on his skin as he whispered, "It's your Padres jersey now." 

You looked so damn pleased with yourself as you ran toward his bedroom, shedding your clothes on the way. Bradley undressed down to his underwear while you did the same and then slipped his jersey on before heading for his dresser. "Your floor's cold," you mumbled as you grabbed a pair of his socks and put them on before jumping into his bed. "And now I look ridiculous."

Bradley shook his head as he stared at you. He'd been holding back enough, and he just didn't want to do it anymore. "Nah, Ace, you look... like everything I want." 

"Bradley," you whispered, pulling his blanket up over your face. "You can't."

He slipped in bed and burrowed under the blanket with you. Your eyes were bright as you looked at him in the dim bit of light. "I can't help it," he replied, and you eased yourself into his arms. "There's nobody like you. You're the Ace for a reason."

"God," you whimpered, kissing his lips and his cheeks, and teasing your fingers through his hair. Your palms were warm on his cheeks as you traced every single scar and the curve of his lips. You ran your nose along his mustache, and you just snuggled closer and closer to him. "I can't think straight when I'm with you. It's like, I feel like I could..."

"Like you could what, Baby?" he begged. He needed you to finish that sentence, but you didn't. You just kissed him until you were the one begging and pleading. It was so easy to give you what you wanted right now, because he wanted it, too. He yanked his underwear down and pulled yours to the side, and when he slipped inside you, he watched you pull the blankets down. And now he could see you a little better, and you really were exactly what he wanted. 

It was slow and sweet, and he knew he'd never feel this good with anyone else. He didn't want to let you go. He held your thigh on his hip and rocked into you, thrusting as he thought 'stay, stay, stay'.

"Bradley," you moaned, pushing him onto his back and riding him until you came. He was afraid he was saying exactly what he was thinking now as words like need and permanent surfaced in his mind while he babbled. You told him to cum inside you again, so he did. And when you curled up on his chest, he kissed the top of your head. 

Your lips were on his neck as you silently ran your fingers through his hair. "Ace," he whispered, but you just shook your head. So he pressed his lips together and rubbed his hands up underneath the jersey, and you shivered against him. 

A few minutes later, when he was nearly soothed to sleep with his cock still nestled inside you, Bradley felt your body jerk. "Oh no. What time is it?" you gasped. You climbed off of him abruptly, a look of panic on your face as you searched for your phone. "Fuck!" 

Bradley climbed out of bed as you fumbled your phone and ran for your computer which was charging on his chair. His cum was on his abs and your legs, but you didn't stop to get cleaned up before you ran for his kitchen table. "What can I do to help?" he asked as he followed you.

"Nothing," you snapped, booting up your computer. It was almost 11:30, and Bradley wasn't sure exactly how much you'd written before and during the game; he had been too concerned about the Angels winning tonight. 

He got you some water and whispered, "I can help you proofread it," but you didn't respond. You just typed away frantically while he hovered around the living room, glancing in your direction constantly. Your brow was creased in frustrated determination, and Bradley felt like an asshole for not suggesting that you or he set an alarm before climbing in bed. Because he could absolutely lose all track of time when he was with you, whether you and he were fucking, talking or cuddling. And he knew it.

When he looked at the clock on the microwave, he winced. It was nearly midnight, and you were still typing and looking at your stat sheet. "Anything I can do?" he asked again, but you just shook your head, so he went to the bathroom. He got himself cleaned up and then just leaned on the sink vanity with his head cradled in his hands. 

Fuck. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel any stress when you were with him. He felt like an idiot. When he finally returned to the table, the clock said 12:01 and you were still typing. He was waiting for your phone to ring. Greg would be calling you to start screaming any second now. And he had to stand there and watch it all unfold. You submitted your article at 12:07, and you looked up at him with sad yet determined eyes before you answered your ringing phone. 

"Greg," you said, your voice sounding strong and sure even though your face was defeated. And then Greg was hollering nonstop as you held the phone a few inches away from your ear. Bradley hated it so much. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and then your cheek while Greg reminded you not too kindly that you missed your deadline by seven minutes. Then Bradley cupped your face in his hands and held eye contact with you while you told Greg it wouldn't happen again before you ended the call. 

The silence was almost deafening as you held your phone and looked up at him. Bradley swallowed hard, but his voice was still a harsh whisper as he said, "I hate it when he yells at you."

You shook your head and grimaced as tears filled your eyes. "Well, I missed my deadline, so he had every right to-"

"No," Bradley said, dropping to his knees in front of you on his kitchen floor. "He doesn't, Ace. He shouldn't do that. It's just seven minutes."

"But it's a deadline for a reason," you supplied immediately, looking down into his face. "One minute is the same as seven is the same as sixty. It shouldn't happen at all."

Bradley scoffed. "So he sits up until three in the morning in New York just to call you and scream? That's fucked up."

You swiped at your eyes as you whispered, "I let myself get distracted by you. This is my fault. But when I'm with you, I can't think straight. Which is bad."

"Ace," he whispered helplessly as you cried. "But if we were together-"

"We can't be together," you told him. Your voice was soft and sorrowful, but it felt like a gunshot to Bradley. His ears were ringing from the sound of it. He could tell you were stubborn, but right now, he felt stubborn, too. It wasn't very often that he allowed himself to want something, and never on the scale of how badly he wanted you, but he thought right now it would be worth fighting for this.

"I've seen your email inbox," he whispered, and your eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't need Greg or the New York Times to be successful, Ace. You bring everything to the table, and clearly other people see that."

"Bradley," you said, shaking your head sadly. "It's the New York Times. The pinnacle. There's nowhere else for me to go that wouldn't be a step backwards in my career, and that's a fact. My job is important to me. Writing is important to me."

"But you're more than who you write for-"

You cut him off as you raised your voice. "You knew immediately who I was when you saw my name, because I work for The Times!"

Bradley buried his face against your thigh as he tried to will his heart to stop pounding so hard he could barely hear. He kissed you there before he looked up at you again in agony. "People would follow your writing anywhere, because you're that fucking good. Have you ever thought about writing for someone else?"

You swiped at your eyes as you whispered, "No." "Baby, you could make a big name for yourself on an independent platform. Your style is fun and it flows. You can find something better for yourself than the New York Times. This doesn't have to be that hard."

"It's not that easy either. I told you how it would be, Bradley," you said, your voice taking on a pleading tone. "You would hate it when I was away for long stretches. You would want someone else. Someone easy to be with. Someone who was always in San Diego."

"That's a fucking lie," he growled. "And you know it."

You were silent for a minute as your eyes settled on your lap. "New York is my home. I'm settled there. And you're settled here."

He felt sick. The words had too much finality. But you were waiting for him to confirm, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was let you down. "Yeah. I am." Then he realized he was crying as well when he reached up to cup your cheek again. You melted into his touch before you slid off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. "Ace. Look at you," he whispered, and you met his eyes as your lip quivered. "You're perfect. The perfect woman. I want to be with you. And I think you want to be with me, too."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he held you while you cried. "I'm sorry, Bradley," you murmured against his shoulder. 

He knew you were scared to even think that something might be a better fit for you, and maybe he was wrong. Maybe it would be career suicide if you left your job. He didn't know a damn thing about it really. All he knew was everyone wanted you with them. Including him. It was hard for him to breathe as he asked, "What do you have in New York that you couldn't have in San Diego? Here. With me."

But you didn't answer him. You just stayed curled up on his lap until after one in the morning with your arms wrapped around him and his securely at your back. He tried his best to memorize how good and yet terrible this felt, because in a few days, he knew he'd probably give anything to feel you in his arms. 

When you finally eased away from him and kissed his lips, you tried to smile as you said, "Let's just enjoy our last day together."

Bradley closed his eyes against the pain. "Sure, Ace."

--------------------------

All I feel right now is pain. I miss feeling joy. The final game is next. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #how you play the game

[rintoshis-archived]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃 - ft. miles morales

🀄、pairings: miles morales x reader warnings: mentions of paranoia, death, mentions of blood, slightly angsty, fluff at the end, slow burn, legit doesn't make total sense, not proofread, lyric references, venom, profanities, kissing (nothing smutty), mentions of gwen and hobie, poor spanish (blame duolingo...), with translations, no actual current plot of atsv, own plot, might not make sense if you didn't watch the movie, mutants, giants, mentions of skinned bodies, false accusations, arguments, a lot more within these lines, peter being a bad mentor, involves miguel, margo, peter. w/c: 4,297 notes; i really did not expect this to be long ... but yeah! this might not make sense and there might be whole lotta ooc BUT THIS IS MY PLOT I DO WHAT I WANT RAHHHH 🤣🤣🔥🔥 anyways i didn't know what i went with the storyline but there are a lot of depressing moments here ... i hope y'all are ok btw .. okay bye ily

'SOMETHING BAD IS 'BOUT TO HAPPEN TO ME' You thought. Your paranoia didn't help you sleep at night, the empty feeling of always being secluded from the world. Your dimension didn't have any Spider-people, and in contrast to Miles's dimension; it was harder to pick yourself up and fight for the city.

The feeling of cold sheets wrapping around your limbs, the fabric only bringing you more comfort. His smell lingered on your pillows, his jacket hanging on the back of your door. You didn't wanna leave Miles. The banging headache raised when you cried for the rest of the night, tears flowing down your cheek.

This might be pathetic, sure. But you weren't happy with the world you were born into. You missed the vibrant city of Miles's dimension, the moments you spent together to train him to become the best Spiderman of the century. You could only laugh at that thought.

Your eyes are glued onto your ceiling, the empty white color reflecting your current mind. Hell, if you could go back; you would. Your eyes close heavily, and the feeling of your hot eyelids resting on your eyes.

'I DON'T KNOW IT BUT I FEEL IT COMING.' The returning feeling of being helpless, a deep voice circulating in your mind. As much as you didn't wanna admit it, you were fragile. The Spider that bit you wasn't as ordinary as you thought. That goes without saying; Miles got bit by an unordinary spider, too. But something about that insect made it a little more special than other Spider origins.

The Spider actually talked to you. Its venom projects into your blood cells, infesting your mind and body. ''The city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs-'' If you could spray bug repellent inside of your head, you would've done it already. The echoing voice inside of your brain didn't subside even after you've covered your ears with pillows.

You were restless. Your spider suit resting on your chair. The radio your dad previously had woken you from your slumber, the screams and sounds of innocent people screaming, a cop reporting for backup.

''This is Agent- Shit! Get away- We need backup, now! Call for the nearest-'' The voice cuts off, only leaving you with the sound of a broken stereo. Out of instinct, your webs sling the radio to your hands, turning some of the knobs to get more surface of the situation.

Nothing comes out, the last person who reported to the station was that 'Agent'. You hop out of bed, took the suit, and quickly put it on. You contemplated for a while, but the sudden shiver of guilt only awoken the voice that whispered in your ear. ''The city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you.''

The sounds of police car's sirens echoed in the street, a building being griefed by an explosion. Big claws and bloodied cement was the scenery when you arrived. You heard a lady scream in an alleyway, and all of the police cars emptied out of people. No cop was left alive, they were all skinned out of their bodies.

''G-Get away from me!'' The lady's voice stung your Spider-sense, the sound of big feet stepping towards the lady. You were on the walls, peeking at the villain. It had a broad back, spikes decorating its spine, and green and vibrant reptile skin. You land on the floor, attaching your webs to the spikes of its back. ''You heard the lady.''

Your webs were strong enough to pull the reptile back, jumping high to let it sling behind you. A loud thud could be heard miles away, the cement of the building cracking from the giant's impact. You approach the lady, putting two hands up. ''Are you okay?''

The lady's eyes widened while looking behind you, your spider sense didn't detect the big chunk of cement that was coming your way. Your hands almost act instinctively, grabbing ahold of the cement before it crushed the two of you.

Your webs threw the brick back, crumbling on the body of the reptile. ''You should run.'' you flash a small smile of assurance to the lady, webbing the two buildings to get closer to the villain. Your eyes catch a small glimpse of a black and red suited person in the sky, spider sense tingling at the sight. Your head turns to the building where it landed, getting distracted from what was in front of you.

''Move!'' A voice echoes from the roof of the building, your head quickly turns back to the lizard, his hands almost grabbing a hold of you. A sudden bolt of lightning almost blinded you, causing your eyes to close at the brightness.

A huge hole in the sky opens, the edges of it being coated with pink, purple, and hints of green. It looked like it glitched into the sky, with strings of what looked like webs inside of it. Miles had already electrocuted the lizard for a short time, as he approached you.

''Y/N! I'm here!'' His hands wrap around your torso, feeling your warmth over your suit. ''Miles?'' Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him into a hug. ''H-how are you here? What the fuck is that?'' You ask of the hole in the sky, some of the cars and poles flying inside of it.

''Listen, we need to go.'' His hands grab yours, webbing to the closet rooftop. ''No... No! I need to see my aunt-'' Your eyes widen, his hands pulling you into the black hole. Your argument with your aunt didn't lull even after the 'talk' you both had.

''¡Dios mío, Y/N! Te lo dije una vez, dos veces, trice! Y no nos escuchaste ni a mí ni a tu mamá!'' (Oh my gosh, Y/N! I told you once, twice, thrice! And you didn't listen to me or your mom!) Your hands slam the door on your aunt, refusing to continue this talk with your aunt. You had just lost your dad, you couldn't save him from that stupid mutant that appeared right in your dad's station house. Your dad's friends whom you even considered your own; dead before your eyes, bodies laying and pierced in her stomachs. ''Do not slam that door on me, we are not done!'' Your aunt opens your door with pressure, her words poisoning the whole room. ''Tía, yo también te lo dije un millón de veces!'' (Aunt, I told you a million times too!) It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault that your dad still wanted to be the hero even when he can't. It was his fault. ''¿Cuántas veces tengo que decir esto? You can't be meddling in the policía's jobs! You killed your-'' (How many times do I have to say this?) ''Get out!'' Your webs shut your door with force, webbing the door handle closed. ''No entiendes, tía, I didn't kill Papa!'' (You don't understand, Aunt) ''You just don't understand, Y/N! Your mom is crying, the whole police is after you! They think you murdered your father! You need to stop, Y/N. You are not the 'hero' of this city!'' Your auntie bangs on your door, but your hands remain on your ears, cuddled up to your pillow.

It 'MIGHT BE SO SAD, MIGHT LEAVE MY NOSE RUNNING.' You couldn't leave your auntie, and your mom didn't stop crying, she stopped coming to her job and didn't speak to anyone else.

'I JUST HOPE SHE DON'T WANNA LEAVE ME.' Those words ring inside of Miles's head, he had already fought his battle with Miguel just to see you again, and he was willing to go through it all over again.

''Listen, your aunt will be fine! You'll be safe there!'' Miles tries to pull you in, and you let him. You take his words and put them inside of your heart. The feeling of being airborne in the galaxy takes over your senses, a huge tube leading you both into another portal. Your hands tremble inside Miles's grasp.

You both land in an elevator, a platform bringing you to up top.

His thumb rubs your skin, hoping to have calmed you down. You both fall into an elevator, Miles's hands still intertwined with yours. ''I should probably explain, huh?'' You didn't respond, your mind almost wandering away staring at the wall. ''Y/N?'' When the warmth of Mile's skin leaves yours, your head turns to him.

''Did you say something?'' ''Yeah... Did you listen?'' ''No... Sorry, could you repeat that?'' You hear Miles sigh, his hands knotted with each other to his chest. ''Well, Miguel wanted me to pick you up... Kinda.'' Your head tilts a little, and a tinge of unsureness laced Miles's words. ''Kinda?'' You ask, almost surveying him. ''Well I did kinda sneak out and asked Margo to take me to your dimension but that's not the important part!''

Miles raises his hands as if it were for defense and you laugh. ''You're so stupid.'' You nudge his shoulder. ''Why'd you take me here-'' You feel almost a big punch in your stomach as if you'd glitched out in a game. ''Woah!'' Miles panicked, rummaging through his pockets. You were surprised he had put pockets in his suit. Maybe you have to do that, sometime.

''I forgot to give you this.'' He takes your hand before you glitch out again and put on the bracelet on your wrist. Nausea stopped, feeling a little bit better from the piece of silicone around your skin. You laugh a little, seeing Miles's panicked expression even from over his mask. You took off your own mask, breathing in some air. ''So.. Why'd you take me here?''

Miles took off his, too. ''Well, I missed you, of course.'' A window appears behind you both, the land seemingly upside down. ''Woah...'' ''We're in Nueva York.'' The door opens, and Miles captures your hands in his, leading you to the upside-down hallways.

''T-there's so many...'' You didn't expect almost a hundred- maybe more Spider-people. All of them were different, some were on wheelchairs, some were riding horses, and some were incubated in a yellow-orange barrier.

After what seemed like a million light-years, you both reached a dark part of the building, a girl who seemed like she was purple waved at you two and started working back on her computer.

''Miles Morales.'' A dark voice grew out of the dark, a floating platform lowering from the sky. ''Miguel, we're back.'' ''Another outsider.'' Miguel turned to face you both, the man looked like he hadn't slept in years. You frown at his comment, he didn't know who you were.

''Miguel O'Hara, this is Y/N L/N.''

An infant webbed around the room and caught you three off-guard. ''Mayday! Good job Honey!'' A man with a baby carrier enters the room, phone pointed at the child. Mayday, cute name. You smile at the sight of a cute baby webbing freely, she'll be a good Spiderwoman when she grows up. ''Miles! I haven't seen you in so long!'' The man put his phone back in his pocket, putting two of his hands on your shoulders.

''Peter!'' ''Miles! Hey, bud! Who's this?'' Peter smiles at you, and you give him another smile back. ''I'm Y/N.'' You shook his hand, and he immediately pulled away to catch Mayday. She was climbing on Miguel, a funny sight to see. You didn't fail to see how Miguel was so... Muscular. His webs looked different, it looked like it glowed with a orange light.

You knew to not fuck with him, especially when he was the only one in the room who didn't wear a bracelet to keep him from not glitching out. ''Y/N L/N. You must know what kind of place this is, I assume?'' Miguel says, capturing Mayday in his hands. Miles looked at you, slight panic arising in his eyes.

''Uhm, I brought her here. She can help me, Hobie, and Gwen-'' ''There are enough problems that I have to deal with. Put her back, Morales.'' You didn't know who Hobie or Gwen was, but Miles mentioned that they went on missions together. That Miguel had a foul mouth, for sure.

''You've caused enough shit, Morales! The start of the spot, breaking a canon event, and even rebelling against my rules!'' Miguel webbed down to the floor and threw a bomb on the floor. Once it hit your foot, it opened up a dome.

''What the fuck-'' You try banging on the walls, the sounds outside almost being muffled from the inside. ''Miles!'' ''Enough is enough, Morales. I guess I'll have to send you both back then.'' You see Miles trying to bargain with Miguel, but Peter interrupts. ''Miguel, loosen up pal. Let them experience their puppy love in the HQ, gosh they're so cute together-'' Miguel shoots a web to Peter's mouth and put him in a dome as well.

'DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP.' These words fill your mind, still trying to get out of the barrier. Your words couldn't reach Miles as he backed up beside you, his hands on the dome. ''Miguel, for someone who's the so-called 'master' of HQ, you really don't know how to stop making the same mistake all over again.''

Miles shatters the projected dome and takes your hand to escape out of the HQ. Peter waves at you both as a goodbye, seemingly proud of Miles for what he did. ''You're a bad mentor,'' Miguel says, chasing you both. The dome fades away, and Peter takes off the web on his mouth. Peter grabs Mayday's pacifier and put it in her mouth. ''Let's go, honey!'' Peter chasing you both.

''If I would've known we'd be running from a Headmaster of an HQ full of Spider-people, I would've come prepared, Miles.'' You two web from wall to wall, knocking some people over and leaving them with a short 'sorry'.

''It's not like- Woah-! I planned this to happen!'' You laugh at his words, keeping up with his pace. ''You can't let me leave you in the dust, Miles!'' You pass Miles, but he quickly catches up. ''I won't!'' He grabs your hand and slings you on his back, sticking onto him like a koala. You both giggle a bit while making your way to Margo. ''I missed you... I missed... Us.''

You rest your head on Miles's shoulder. ''What you said earlier... Who's Hobie and Gwen?'' ''Some friends of mine.'' You smile, kissing his cheek. ''Gwen, huh?'' Miles laughs at the pout that he felt on his skin, ''HONEY, I BELONG WITH YOU AND ONLY YOU, BABE.'' Miles's words made you smile as you both land in Margo's office, seeing her work away on her computer.

''Miles. What did you do now?'' Margo didn't look back, she already knew what you both wanted. ''Send us back to my world,'' Miles says, but your eyes almost want to disagree with him. Miles notices the slight worry in your eyes, he only captures your hands in response.

You knew you'd always wanted to go to Mile's dimension and spend time with him and Mrs. Morales. ''Alright. But I can't guarantee you'll be able to go back to HQ in one piece.'' Margo stated, her spider was already ready for you both.

''Miles, why are you doing this to yourself?'' Margo asks, as you both hop on the platform, hands still in his. ''I JUST DON'T WANT HER TO LEAVE ME.'' Margo only rolls her eyes with a smile and started her machine. The spider started knitting a cocoon around you two, and your hands tighten in nervousness.

''It'll be okay. As long as you have that bracelet, we can live together forever, happily.'' Miles reassures you, tucking hair behind your ear. Miles snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss once the spider finished webbing.

Miguel and Peter could only stare at you both, Peter looking like he was lovestruck. Peter's hands rest on Mayday's eyes while Miguel only rubs his temples. ''Oi! No lovey-dovey in the machine!'' Margo teases before it teleports you both.

A FEW MONTHS AFTER ...

''Miles, Y/N! Dinner!'' ''Innaminute!'' Miles screams out while you two were playing on a PS4 in the living room. Lieutenant Morales watched you two, occasionally taking photos of you both. ''That's unfair!'' You laugh at Mile's whining when you threw a banana on the road, causing his character to slip.

''See 'ya! Eat my dust!'' Miles bit his lip in concentration, leaning his body on where his character would go, bumping into each other. ''Dinner is getting cold, you three!'' Mrs. Morales approaches you three in the living room, catching her husband taking a video of you two playing games.

Her head rests on his shoulder, smiling at the view. ''Amor de cachorro, eh?''(Puppy love, huh?) Mr. Morales laughs and kisses his own wife once you two finally finished the game. You jump in celebration, laughing at Miles's frown. ''I won! I thought you were the best of this game-'' Miles grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap, kissing your lips.

Once Miles's parents finished smooching Mr. Morales interrupts you both. ''Oi! No kissing in the house!'' You smile on Miles's lips before pulling away from his lap. ''I'm hungry.'' ''Let's go eat?'' ''Race 'ya there!'' ''No fair!'' ''Don't run in the house!''

Because in the day, you both are just teenagers attending school, but at night you both have duties to save the city.

woahwoah this was so long ... ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

#ㅤ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི ⟢ 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃﹒ㅤ #@fusaes #miles morales fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x fem!reader #miles morales fluff #spiderman x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #spiderman #spiderverse #atsv #across the spiderverse x reader #Spiderman

[noraunor]

BURN A MOTH

Characters : angel dust, alastor, vox, valentino x human reader.

๑ | synopsis : angel came back to the hotel with a beaten bruises on his face, once you saw this your heart dropped at the sight that you started bombarding him question which he refused to answer, but you kept pestering him. Once he finally admitted, oh dear Satan hell have never been more hotter than your rage.

๑ | tw : cursing, bit blood will be mentioned.

๑ | a/n : this is actually an adaption of the small comic I made, click here to see the art!

Master list | master list

Sipping your coffee as you him yourself a tune while reading the book in your hand as the hotels door slammed opened revealing your favorite spider demon.

Upon seeing his figure, your mood brightened seeing him as you dropped your book and skipped to the tall spider.

" Angeeeel! " you beamed, but after seeing his whole form stopped from you from pouncing on him as your felt your heart dropped.

Angel was covered in bruises and a busted lip and a black eye on his right eye.

" holy shit- angel, what happened to you?! " you scurried closer to him trying to reach for his cheeks but failed due to his height and leaning away.

" I'm fine toots, just got into a fight. " he murmured as he held your shoulders refraining you from jumping on him.

" nah nah, don't give me the "just" angge, you're literally a mess! " you huffed as your grabbed his hand and pulled him to the sofa. " sit. "

" toots- 's ok- I'm fi- " you cut him " sit. The. Fuck. Down. " that was enough for him to shut his mouth and flipped himself to the sofa.

He flinched when he felt your fingers into his busted lip, his other arms went to grab your waist while his other set of arm were on your shoulders and his other arm was on your wrists, stopping you from touching his face further.

" what the f- angel! Let me look! " you groaned as you climbed into the sofa in between his legs as you reached out to his face.

" 'm tellin' you! I'm fine! " he groaned as he pushes you away but you kept pushing yourself into him.

" fine?! Bitch- you're literally bleeding! "

" angel... Please? "

Angel groaned more as his grip from your waist and hand lessen finally giving you an access to him. Your hand softly touched his cheek with him flinching in the process, angels head turned away from you, away from your eyes. You could see tears swelling up into his eyes as your eyes scanned his injuries more.

Angel felt terrible, he felt worse, he felt... Dirty, he hated it.

He sighed deeply before turning to you.

"Satisfied? " he asked but stopped once he saw your dark expression.

".... Y/n?.. "

" angel.. I want the names. "

" huh? Why? - "

" names. Please. "

Angel sighed in defeat " fine.. It's my boss, valentino.. Don't know the fuck happened to that dick but that jerk suddenly barged in 'ta my room and started roughin' my shit up. " he groaned, at the story he just told you, everything around you gone blank as your vision started to go red.

"... Uh y/n?.."

Alastor was just in his room, playing soft songs to his radio while he enjoyed his venison when he heard footsteps outside of his door before his door was barged open.

His smile became strained as his brows knitted as he saw the certain spider demon out of breath in his door step.

" ever heard of knocking before or have you just loose your manners entirely. " alastor scowl but his smile still remains.

His antlers becomes larger as symbol starts to appear around him as the statics became loud.

" this better be very important or I'll have your head on my wall for disturbing my dinner like that and barging into my door without my permission. " he growled as his neck snapped side way.

Once angel finally catches his breath he raises his head to face the radio demon.

" i-its.. Pant it's the human! Fuck- hurry and get your ass out of here! "

The sound of the television bugging and short circuiting and crashes filled the bee's tower.

" OW- WHAT THE FUCK- HOW ARE YOU THIS POWEFUL?! " valentino screeched as he tried to fly away but only to be stabbed by a thrown butcher knife on his wings by you. " FUCK! " he cursed as he glanced at his pierced Wing trying to tug the butcher knife off of his wings, he glanced back at his fellow tv demon but his eyes we're blown wide only to see a hanger piercing into his screen. Val stopped from his movements when he saw your shoes.

He slowly tilted his head up to see you glaring at him with another butcher knife on your hand.

Before all of this chaos, the vee's were just peacefully doing their thing when screams and crashes echoes below their floor. When vox came to check it out, he saw his staff beaten up and then a human in the center of the room, walking towards his direction, vox tried to stop you but only to be shoved away by you. Vox didn't like that so the two of you fought for a moment before the moth overload finally came down and aw the two of you in each other's neck, once you saw the sight of him, your attention quickly changed to val. And then this happened, but with vox now laying on the floor with a hanger on his screen.

" I'm gonna fucking tear that shitty ass wings and give that shitty lookin cottond to nifty and make it my door mat and hang your head into my wall. " you grinned as you raised your butcher.

" might as well chop your dick off and feed it to the cannibal~well if you have one. " you giggled as you saw val paled.

Valentio screamed as you swung the butcher towards him only to be you pulled back.

" alright that's enough. " a familiar static voice called behind you.

Alastor held you by the back of your T-shirt as you still tried to advance to Val as he screams.

" AAAAAAAAAAAAAA "

" as entertaining this is but I cant have my little human wiping out the vee's just like that! Imagine! Getting killed by a mere human! " alastor humored as his eyes landed on a defeated vox.

" oh how pathetic! "

Angel was just behind alastor, his mouth was dropped open as he saw the massacre you made.

"... Holy shit.. "

#hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel vox #ˠ . ° . 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢! 𖤐

[gawkingatyourface]

Set in Motion | preview

summary: back in the 1930s, a certain waitress was barely making a living. She went to a popular club that one of her friends owned, Mimzy. That night changed everything. She caught someone's eyes. A familiar radio host that was intrigued by the second. What would happen when this waitress and radio host meet?

characters: human!Alastor x waitress!fem!reader

warnings: gore, angst, romance, swearing, mentions of death and murder, kidnapping, yandere

notes: hi loves :3 this is a new story I'll be working on once I'm done with Sweetest Tail. hehe so excited for this! But I don't want to work on so many ideas all at once lol I'll burn myself up xD so decided to give you guys a little preview about this story. Exciting news, I'll be posting the new chapter of Sweetest Tail this weekend so keep a look out for that! Enjoy loves! <3

"[Y/N]! Sweet Pea! You finally made it!"

Hearing a familiar voice, [Y/N] had turned away from chatting with the bartender as she noticed Mimzy walking towards her with a wave and big smile.

"Mimzy, darling! After your countless times coming to the café demanding me to come and see you perform. Kinda forced me didn't cha?" [Y/N] teased her playfully before taking a sip of her glass.

"Aw sweet pea! You wound me!" She faked her tears before laughing and giving [Y/N] a side hug before sitting beside her. "How you enjoying my club? You like it?"

[Y/N] nodded in agreement. It surely was the most popular place in town. Yet, that wasn't what caught her attention. The place was surely had an ease environment. Calm and very jazzy in her eyes.

But something else caught her eye.

A certain person that was clearly popular judging from the crowd that was surrounding them.

Mimzy noticed her attention somewhere or rather someone. She had turned around to see what caught her friend's attention. Once she found it, she smirked at the realization.

"Ohh..I see someone has caught your eye Sweet Pea."

[Y/N] hardly heard her as her eyes was glued to a certain someone. He was surrounded by women and men. All with smiles and laughter. She couldn't help but be awe at his smile. It was the most beautiful one she's ever seen.

"Um..Sweetie? Don't tell me you've fallen in love with him already." Mimzy commented with a laugh.

That broke [Y/N]'s trance of the mysterious man as she turned to Mimzy whom was still laughing at her. She hid her face in embarrassment that she had been staring too much at him. She gulped her whole glass as she looked at the bartender for another drink whom nodded at her.

"Don't be silly, Mimz. You know I don't do relationships."

"That's what everyone says Sweetie. But once they meet that certain someone, BOOM! They are suddenly fools in love!" Mimzy said as she took another sip of her glass. "If you must know, that's Alastor. The famous radio host and obviously everyone wants a piece of him."

[Y/N] was shocked to realize that it was actually him. The famous Alastor, the radio host that got so popular. She knew from hearing his radio station that his voice was so mesmerizing and alluring to everyone especially hers, but now she actually saw him. Saw what made everyone love him. She would be lying if she said that she didn't find him attractive. He clearly was.

"I'm not like that Mimz. You know that. I can see why everyone is so smitten about him. I'm surprised you haven't."

"Oh no sweet pea. He's just an old friend of mine. Nothing more. He's a doll but not my type, you know that."

"I do." [Y/N] let out a laugh which caused Mimzy to laugh with her.

"Well, it's almost time for my performance. Cheer for me would you sweetie." Mimzy said as she stood up, fixing her hair.

"Don't I always Mimz. Have fun up there."

"I sure will. I'll come over afterwards sweetie."

After that, Mimzy walked backstage to get ready for her performance, leaving [Y/N] alone at the bar. She sighed as she glanced back at Alastor whom was still surrounded by even more people. She was so lost in thought that the bartender placed a new glass in front of her which caused her to jump slightly.

"Apologizes dear."

"Oh no, I apologize. Got lost in my thoughts once again." She said with a nervous chuckle as she took a sip of the new glass.

The bartender nodded as he was cleaning some glasses, keeping the conversation going about who knows what.

[Y/N] smiled at him as he was making her laugh from his corny jokes. It distracted her until Mimzy's performance. After that, she would call it a night since she did have work in the morning.

As she kept her attention at the bartender, she didn't realize a pair of eyes on her.

Those pair of eyes had been on her ever since she walked in the club. Alastor had been in the club for quite a while. After his radio show, he would come here to socialize here and there. Sometimes to find some fresh meat for dinner. Most of the time, it was to see his old friend Mimzy and her performance.

But today was different.

He caught a sight of [Y/N].

Once he noticed Mimzy walking towards her and giving her a hug; he grew curious about her. Who was she? How did she know Mimzy? Is she new in town?

So many questions about her that he needed answers.

He had never seen her before especially in Mimzy's club since he is always here. He kept the people around him entertained by the stories that he would report in his radio show while keeping his eyes on her. He wanted nothing more to leave everyone behind and march up to her, introduce himself and hoping to get her name.

His grip on the glass tighten as he noticed one of the ladies getting a bit too close to him, touching his arm which he didn't like. He wasn't too fond of touch from strangers. It irked him. He only allowed certain people to touch him. He quickly pulled her hand away from him with a smile before pretending to pay attention to one of the men that was telling a rumor going around town.

But the other reason why his glass was so close to breaking was because the sight of her and the bartender sicken him.

The way he was making her laugh. The way they both were looking at each other.

He didn't like it one bit. He needed to go to her quick.

Before he could make his escape, the lights dimmed and the stage lights came on revealing Mimzy.

It was time for her performance.

It was a perfect time. He would be able to escape and head towards her.

As Mimzy's performance started, he would always watch her being her usual self. She was always such a grand performer. He'd give her that but tonight, he was distracted by a beauty that was sitting by herself at the bar. He glanced to see her smiling at Mimzy whom was so lost in her performance as claps and whistles were heard all over. He watched as how she clapped throughout Mimzy's performance. She looked so happy as she watched her friend's performance.

That made him smile.

He wondered if she would smile at him as she watched him on his radio studio. Smiling as he hosted his radio show. He could just imagine her being there with him, supporting him, inspiring him. Just the thought gave him goosebumps.

He broke the sight of her as he turned back to see Mimzy had finished her performance.

Everyone stood up and clapped for her. Such an astonishing performance like usual. He smiled at his friend and clapped for her performance. He looked back to see his mysterious darling but his smile faded as she was gone. He stopped clapping as he looked everywhere for her. She was no where to be found. He walked towards the bar and looked around to see if she was nearby, but nothing.

She was gone.

"You need anything sir?"

Alastor looked at the bartender with a frown on his face for a second before flashing him a smile.

"I'm looking for the lady that was sitting here just minutes ago."

"Ah yes, you just missed her. She just walked out in a hurry."

His eyes widen and nodded at the bartender as he ran out, not listening to people calling for him. He didn't care about them. He needed to see her. Needed to hear her name, her voice. He ran outside in the cool weather as he looked around for any sight of her.

None.

He ran a hand thru his hair as he ran to the corner to see if he could catch up to her somehow but luck wasn't on his side.

She was gone. Gone of his sight.

He couldn't believe it. He had just seen her a few minutes ago and now it was like she disappeared out of thin air. He let out a deep sigh as he leaned back against the wall. He looked up at the dark sky, stars shining brightly. His lips curved into a smile as he watched the sky.

"I hope I see you again darling. My sweet darling…"

#alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #human!alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin imagines #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x you