#Might look a bit worse but I'm happy with it

[barcaatthemoon]

flustered || ona batlle x reader ||

patri decides that she's over you trying to avoid ona when you come back to barcelona.

you hated the circumstances of your return to barcelona. you had spent so much time in london that you had almost forgotten that it was just a loan. your contract was nearly up, and you'd spend the last season of it back in barcelona, where you no longer felt like there was anything for you. it seemed like the team had completely replaced you, including ona.

your attempts at staying in london were futile. they didn't have the budget the keep you there for another season, not when barcelona had made an outrageous demand for money. jona wouldn't play you, so you didn't understand why they were so insistent on you coming back. still, you returned to spain and tried to get back into your old routine.

training was fairly easy for you. the exercises were different, but you went the same amount of days as you had in london. in your spare time, you went to the gym every single day. it was rare for you to stay in your apartment by yourself. occasionally, you let loose with the team on a bonding night, but never for too long.

it was silly, but you had a hard time being around ona and lucy. not a lot of the girls knew how you felt, but the ones who did left you alone. you had followed ona to england, but ended up staying for nearly two years longer than she did. something had happened up there, and it killed some of the girls not to know what it was.

truthfully, it hadn't been anything nearly as serious as you were making it out to be. you and ona had been friends, best friends at that. there had been seedlings of unfriendly feelings between the two of you, ones that didn't get better with the bit of distance between manchester and london. if anything, they only seemed to get worse for you. you couldn't be around ona without becoming a flustered mess.

it didn't help that when your eyes had met, she'd blush and look away as well. some might have taken that as a sign that she liked you back, but all it did was make you nervous. ona could have been a sure thing for you, but you were terrified of the idea that she liked you back. for some reason, you had convinced yourself that it was easier to pine over ona than to actually be happy with her.

"okay, enough of this!" patri shouted as she clapped her hands together. everybody looked over at her, and subsequently you as well. the two of you had been working out together. for the longest time, ona had been your gym partner at barcelona, and while patri was happy to do it, she couldn't stand watching you look longingly at ona from across the gym.

"patri, what are you doing?" you hissed as she dragged you over to where ona and lucy were running.

"both of you, start talking, now!" patri wasn't usually so forceful with you, and you weren't sure what to do except for obey. you hated that she knew how easily you'd submit with a little force, something you would never forgive leila for telling her. "come on now, i don't have all day."

"patri, please," you pleaded with her. unfortunately for you, the woman didn't relent. she only pushed you even closer to ona, who just barely managed to catch you. up close, you could see how flushed she was, and it didn't look like it was just coming from the workout. "ona, are you okay? you look a little…"

"i'm fine!" ona was quick to shout out at you. both of you winced at the sudden increase of volume.

"god, i can't watch this anymore," lucy muttered. she walked away, patri joining her as the two of them complained about you and ona. the look on your face was nothing short of confused. you could have sworn that lucy was dating ona, and the woman wouldn't have just left the two of you like that if it really was the case.

"a-aren't you going to go with lucy? it's not very nice of her to just leave you here. i'd never do that to my girlfriend," you said. ona's mouth opened and closed as the pieces clicked into place.

she had been so confused about why you were being distant. at first, she had chalked it down to you missing your arsenal teammates. however, as the season went on, she noticed how things were almost back to normal. the exception of you being distant with her had ona's mind absolutely spinning. she couldn't remember there being any tension whenever the two of you had last seen each other. if anything, you'd been a bit more affectionate at the last national camp.

"lucy is not my girlfriend. she thought you were at first," ona admitted. "then she thought it was either jana or patri. neither one of them are yours, right?"

"ona, i haven't had a girlfriend in nearly two years. not because i'm like a freak or anything, it's just hard for me sometimes. there was someone i did like at arsenal, but it didn't seem fair…" you trailed off, glad that you had stopped yourself before you said anything too embarrassing.

"fair?" ona asked you.

"it's not fair to be with someone if you love someone else," you said quietly. ona gently cradled your face in her hands as the two of you stood in the corner of the gym. "i went all the way to england to stay close to you."

"i didn't want to assume at first. and then, well, you never said anything. you just kind of got quiet, so i thought you were mad at me." both of you felt like idiots as the pieces fell into place around you.

"you were making me nervous. i couldn't say anything without mixing up my words. i didn't want to embarrass myself or say the wrong thing," you told her.

"you could never," ona reassured you. "can i kiss you?"

"take me on a date first," you laughed. ona sighed and nodded. she began to turn away from you, but you grabbed her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "patri was my ride, so maybe coffee after practice?"

"you can come see my new coffee machine. the girls are all very impressed by it, even alexia," ona said proudly. you liked the sound of that, unsurprised that ona planned to take you back to her place. she knew that you were a homebody, and a familiar place would make you feel most comfortable.

[greetingfromthedead]

Plantheat (Vash x F!Reader)

Plot: About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.

Series: None (oneshot)

Pairing: Vash x F!Reader

Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI

Tags: no use of y/n, plantheat, rutting, pwp, smut, light BDSM, mention of breeding kink, cum kink ig, hand job, blowjob, p in v sex, joyous use of a couch, copious amount of... cum, rough sex, aphrodisiac, some spanking, blushing Vash → rutting Vash

Word count: 4.3k

Author's Note: If you know me or my other work... no you don't. Idk where this came from and it has already been revised... it was worse.

Vash has been avoiding your gaze all morning, generally curling up in bed and pulling the blanket over his head. He insists he is feeling sick, but you suspect it's something quite a bit different. You go along with his behavior, only giving him a peck on the cheek from behind before you get out of bed again.

"I will bring you something to eat; surely that will make you feel better," you say from the door.

"Thank you, love, but I am not hungry. I'll just go take a shower." His muffled voice sounds from underneath layers of fabric. This answer confirms your suspicions, and you leave for the kitchen. There are only a few reasons your man would refuse food, and being sick isn't one of them.

You eat your late breakfast as you see him slinking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom next door. He held a bundle of towels, and the sweet smell following him leaves no room for doubt about what is really going on. You take a deep whiff and lick your lips, savoring the scent. You can finish your plate and clean up in the time it takes him to shower. He usually refuses to waste that much water, but the grunts you hear through the door reveal he is doing more than just washing.

You bite your lip, wanting to go in there, but stop yourself. Every time he tries to hide his heat, and each time he fails, yet seeing him struggle with it in the beginning always amuses you. So instead, you settle in on the couch, where you have a great view of the bathroom door. From the suppressed noises, you assume he jerked himself off at least twice, surely hoping to put off the effects of his time of the year. You try to think back to the last time, and it seems like it hasn't been quite a year yet, but you aren't complaining. Vash might think he puts you in an awful position with his unquenchable need that arises during this time, but actually you quite enjoy all the positions you end up finding yourself in.

He finally exits the room, a large fluffy towel around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders, catching the water droplets from his hair. His scarred and augmented chest is on full display, and you admire his broad shoulders. His body is a marvel to you, and even on a regular day, a sight like this makes your mouth water.

"Hello, my eyes are up here!" Vash tries to crack a joke, and one of his hands goes to scratch the back of his neck.

"I know. But I am not looking at them right now," you tease. "Come closer and let me get a better look. Do a spin while you're at it."

You see a reddish hue flush over his chest and neck while he walks closer to you. You can tell he's a bit nervous, but he obliges and does a slow turn, giving you a full view.

"Happy? I should go back to bed." He sounds very awkward, as he avoids looking straight at you and instead gazes at the bedroom door. With him came the same sweet smell as before, and it makes you painfully aware of the yearning in your belly, a desire to spread your legs right away. The smell alone is enough to turn you on, but tasting him would spell the end of your little game.

"Later. You took such a long shower; surely you feel a bit better now." You keep a careful eye on him as you speak. "You're all wet still; I'm surprised you're not shivering. Come here; I'll help you."

You reach out and tug gently on the towel wrapped around his waist. He obliges, but the blush is deepening on his face. He glances down at you as you place your hand on his stomach, wiping some droplets onto your thumb before sticking it in your mouth. You suck your finger dry and see his eyes widening.

"What? You used a lot of water; let's not waste any more." You say with a grin and pull him closer to run your lips over his skin, kissing away the wetness. You can feel his heart racing under your touch, and the maddening smell intensifies.

"Darling, I should..." A shudder runs through his body. "Go to bed."

"Don't you like it?" You run your tongue over the curves and valleys of his muscles, your hands firmly holding on to his hips.

"Oh, you know I do. It's just that…" He sounds breathless, and the crimson of his cheeks is accompanied by a pleading look in his eyes.

"You want to fuck my brains out." You finish his sentence with a smirk and pull away a bit to see him better.

"Yes. Yes, I do," he admits with a guilty look in his eyes.

"Why don't you?" You look at his face as his expression shifts from one microscopic emotion to the next. You don't actually need him to answer; you know his reasoning from the years before.

"I don't want you to feel used. I don't want to hurt you. I know it can get… intense," he swallows, and you pull the edge of his towel until it falls down. "And what if you get pregnant?"

"What if? Come on, daddy, don't worry about that." You say with a sultry voice, "Go on, give it your best shot."

"Don't say that," he exhales, and you can tell it gets harder and harder for him to keep his composure.

"Why not?" you smirk as your one hand wraps around his half flaccid cock, feeling it twitch at your touch. You let it slide through your loose grip until you reach the tip, your thumb rubbing against the sensitive spot, smearing the large glob of pre-cum that had already formed there.

"I can't resist you." He studders slightly and reaches out his hand to touch your cheek. "I want you. I want you so badly."

You feel a rush of desire wash over you as his words send shivers down your spine. You lean in closer to kiss his dry shaft, your fingers twisting just below the tip, causing him to let out a soft moan of pleasure.

"I'm right here," you say, barely pulling your lips away from his skin as you look up. "Use me. Any way you want. Any way you need."

He bites his lips hard, the redness not leaving his face as he meets your gaze. He watches you trace your lips along his length as your hand starts to move back and forth. Sloppier kisses leave plenty of spit behind for your hand to glide smoothly. As he is fully erect, the tip leaks with his arousal, providing plenty of lubrication. His eyes never leave yours as you continue to stroke him, his breath quickening with each movement. You are careful not to taste any of him, pulling away and instead adding your other hand to the mix.

His body leans back in pleasure as you increase the intensity. He arches his back and lets out a slight moan as he enjoys your touch. One hand strokes along the length while the other twists around the tip. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the sensation. The sweet smell of his aphrodisiac fills the air, and your whole body longs for it. You feel your own arousal growing stronger with each passing moment, the wetness collecting between your legs. You use your semi-clear head to tease him a bit longer; you know his quirks and know the best ways to build him up. You know exactly how to push his buttons and make him lose control, and with his especially short fuse today, you enjoy this while you can. His moans get louder and less guarded. It gives you massive satisfaction to hear him like that, seeing his muscles ripple as his body is overtaken by pleasure. He's putty in your hands, completely at your mercy. It does not take long to get him to his edge, only to lessen the stimulation and deny his orgasm. His eyes shoot at you again as you grin.

"Oh no, no, you don't get to simply torture me." Vash says, and there is an edge to his voice; the heat is taking him over, revealing his more primal and wild sides. "I won't let you have all the fun."

His left hand grips your jaw, and his right one grabs the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your head back. You can only guess that if you weren't still holding his cock tightly, he would have crashed into you for a fierce kiss, but this is not what happens. As you look up with your mouth pried open, he rolls his mouth and parts his lips to let some spit drip off the tip of his tongue. It lands on yours, and the aphrodisiac immediately fills your senses. You feel a surge of desire rush through your body. You want more. You need more.

He looks satisfied as your hungry gaze moves back on his dick. You feel ravenous for more and desperate to taste the sweetness again. Desperate to pull the pleasure from his body. You lick the fingers of one of your hands, savoring the remnants of his essence that still linger on your skin, but it is not enough. Sticking out our tongue, you place his tip on it, collecting the constantly leaking pre-cum that's a hint of what's still to come. You can't wait to have him inside you, filling you up completely, but for now, you want to taste him in the back of your throat. The desire grows, and the heat in your belly rises with each passing second. He has opened the floodgates, and you're sure you've soaked through more than just your underwear.

Hungrily, you start sucking on him while both your hands busy themselves with stimulating the rest of his cock. His hand, holding on to your hair, tightens, urging you on even as you gag on him. Your head is flooded with nothing but the desire to become his personal cum dump. The intensity of the moment consumes you, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure of submission. His moans of pleasure only fuel your own arousal, pushing you to go further and deeper, with noises of enjoyment escaping your lungs. In that moment, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation of being his willing plaything. You slide off the couch to kneel before him, ready to fulfill his every desire.

One of your hands goes to rub your pussy through your pants, but the friction is not nearly enough. You want him all over your body, but your own pleasure comes second. You're here to please him, to have him fill you to the brim.

His groans intensify as you rub his most sensitive spot against the slightly rougher texture of your tongue. Your hand still works on the length of his cock as you feel him twitch under your touch. You know he's close, and you're determined to make him come undone. As he reaches the peak of his pleasure, you can feel his body tense and his breath quicken. With a final, deliberate movement, you bring him to the edge and watch as he releases with a deep, guttural moan. Satisfaction washes over you as his cum fills your mouth, sending a new rush of desire over you. The sweet taste that fogs your senses and judgment is irresistible as you swallow; another wave comes as you squeeze every drop out of him.

You look pleadingly up at him as you lick the taste of him from your lips. You want more. You need to please him; all that is in your head is him. His body, his cock, his seed. You want to be completely consumed by him. You want him to ravage your skin. The thought can cross your mind as you feel him shift under your touch. He reaches down, sliding his hands under your arms and lifting you up off the ground effortlessly, like one would do with a child. As your feet touch the floor, he releases you only to wrap his arms around your body, keeping you upright even as your legs still adjust. He leans you backwards, his strong hand pressing on your lower back so you're flush with his stomach, and his lips capture yours. Adrenaline courses through your body the moment his tongue sweeps through your mouth, leaving more sweetness behind. You feel your heart racing faster. He breathes heavily into your mouth during the kiss, his hands gripping you tightly and possessively.

He takes a few steps forward, forcing you to stumble backwards, but you might as well have done nothing as he drags you to the edge of the couch, roughly turns you around, and bends you over the armrest. One hand presses on your back as if telling you to stay down. The other hand slides down between your legs to cup your clad sex, feeling the wetness seeping through the layers of fabric. You feel a surge of desire and anticipation; you need his touch like you need air. You stay with your face down in the couch cushion and your ass up even as he removes both of his hands.

"Good girl." His low voice praises you as you feel him take hold of the waist of your pants. He pulls them down slowly, feeling the resistance before your ass pops out. He swallows hard as his mouth waters at the sight, and he pushes the pants and underwear down to your ankles. He slaps you hard on your bare skin, leaving it red and tingling, making you yelp. You feel a rush of excitement as he leans in closer, his swollen cock pressed against your crack as he whispers close to your ear. "No time for pleasantries, Mayfly."

In a twisted way, he warned you to brace yourself for what was about to happen next. Quickly, he pulls away from you, and you feel his tip press against your entrance as he lines himself up. One of his long fingered hands grabs hold of your hip as he thrusts forward into your sopping pussy with no mercy. You cry out in pleasure and pain as he fills you. He wastes no time as he pulls back again and thrusts back in with even more force. Your legs tremble at the delicious pain of friction inside you as you still adjust to his girth. Your body arches in response to his relentless pace, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain with every powerful thrust. As his fingers dig into the flesh of our hips, yours dig into the cushion beneath you.

His pace is intense and unyielding, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Every breath escapes you with moans, even as your walls adjust to him. His long, hard strokes send waves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses with pure bliss. He lets out a few grunts through gritted teeth as your pleasures grow. The aphrodisiac he is constantly leaking makes everything tingle, while your sense of time and self slip away completely. All else disappears; it's just the overwhelming sensation in your cunt that travels up your belly as he rearranges your guts. Every touch and thrust is an exquisite torment that you never want to end.

Wild tremors of lust ripple through your being as Vash releases one of his hands only to grab hold of your hair and pull your head back, making you prop yourself up on your hands, your neck extended as far back as it goes. His blood is on fire while it courses through his veins, carrying the desperation of wanting to fill you up. His other hand, too, glides from your hip, sliding down the slope of your ass onto your back as he rams ferociously into you. Your pussy clenches around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he reaches his breaking point. With a groan, he releases himself inside of you, filling you with his hot cum. You feel the warmth spreading inside you, making you moan with pleasure. He keeps thrusting into you, showing no sign of slowing down, even as he makes you reach your climax, crying out his name in pleasure. Every impact he makes against your cervix pushes some of the hot, creamy liquid out of your body, making it drip over your folds.

He pulls on your hair harder, and the hand on your back wraps around to help you get up. You arch your back, sticking your ass out even as he pulls you close enough to kiss your neck. Vash whispers softly in your ear, "You're mine."

This only makes you ache more, even as the high of your first orgasm still lingers. You slip out one of your feet from the mess of pants to prop your knee on the armrest as Vash's throbbing cock continues to pound into you relentlessly. He has no cooldown period in his current state, continuing to drive you to the brink of pleasure and pain. The hand holding your hair moves down over your lower belly to your aching clit. His fingers brush over it with quick motions, filling the small room with even more wet sounds. The arm around you shifts up so his long fingers can wrap around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. The intense moans of pleasure escape you as choked cries. The next climax chases the last as you tremble in his grip, your fingers digging into the flesh of his right arm. The pleasure is overwhelming, as you barely perceive his own moans.

The satisfaction only lasts until the euphoria fades away, leaving you needing more. He pulls you closer, his cock in you as deep as it will go. He pauses his rutting for a moment, releasing your windpipe, and as you gasp for more air, he sticks the fingers of his other hand into your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your moans as you taste both of you on them, but mostly the overwhelming sweetness, sending you into a frenzy again.

You put both feet on the ground again, gripping his dick tighter as he sucks on your neck. You feel thick liquid dripping down your thighs. Your head is filled with thoughts of how to get him moving again as your tongue twirls around his fingers. You can't wait for him to come inside you again; that's all that matters. His free hand explores your body, tugging at your top as it passes over the fabric. You moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch, but as he reaches your thighs, he pulls away and out of you.

"This won't do." Vash takes a step to the left. The prosthesis pushes you forward a bit to bend again. "Spread your legs." He commands, and you comply. His fingers run up your inner thighs, sending shivers down your spine as he collects the cum leaking from your cunt. Vash fingers smear it on your pussy, pushing some back inside.

"I think you should just fill me up again." you say pleadingly, hands leaning on the armrest of the couch. "Please?"

You feel his wet hand run over your ass cheek before smacking it hard and squeezing it tight. You lick your lips again, missing the sweet taste of him, while your sex longs for him. Your breath is heavy as you wait for his answer.

"Tell me what you want." His voice is quiet but has an edge you don't usually hear. You feel a surge of desire coursing through your body as his lips brush your ear.

"I want you to take me. Use me, please. Do whatever you want; just please fill me with your cum. No, drown me in it. I'm begging you." Your voice gets whinier and weaker as you feel his hand explore your body. "Pin me down and fuck me."

"That's my girl," he growls in your ear before turning you around, ripping your shirt down the middle, and pulling it roughly off. His hands grab your waist, and you jump up, wrapping your legs around his middle. Your lips find his as you cup his face with your hands. The sweetness sweeps you away again, and your tongue explores the cavity of his mouth to find more. Vash carries you to the bedroom to continue having his way with you.

He throws you on the bed and wastes no time before climbing in after you. You look at him, your eyes trailing down his magnificent face and body to the still hard cock swaying between his legs, eager for more. His left hand captures your wrists as he pushes them to the bed above you. Vash's lips crash on yours again in a fiery kiss, causing your body to tingle with desire.

You spread your legs wide as he settles between them. His whole body pins you down, trapping you underneath him as his free hand helps his tip glide along your slick folds, teasing you with his touch before pushing into your depths. The sensation of being filled by him makes you moan in ecstasy against his lips, knowing that he is the only one who can make you feel this way.

His thrusts are shallow at first as he grinds his hip against yours. But soon he picks up the pace, filling you with each powerful thrust, rocking your whole body with each stroke. As the intensity builds, your breath becomes ragged. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slapping of wet skin on skin. You can feel the tension building within you, knowing that you are on the brink of an intense release. With each movement, he drives you closer to the edge, pushing you towards a climax that promises to be explosive. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every fiber of your being. Just when you think you can't take any more, the wave crashes over you, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body shudders with pleasure as you ride out the intense climax. Loud cries escape your lungs as Vash pulls back, releasing your pinned hands to straighten up more.

He doesn't relent for a moment, continuing to pound into you with all the energy meant for turning a whole town into a sinful pleasure paradise. Your mind goes blank as you feel his hand push down on your lower belly, lost in the moment of pure ecstasy. Every touch, every movement sends you deeper into a state of euphoria that you never want to end. Your pussy clamps down around him, and Vash lets out a moan of satisfaction, increasing the speed at which he's ramming into you. It's enough to have him coming into you again, each thrust causing more of his seed to escape your cunt and drip down your crack. You shudder in pleasure as you feel him release, hands gripping the sheets beneath. You arch your back and moan loudly.

Time loses all meaning. It is just pleasure, and one orgasm chasing the other for both of you. It fills you with happiness each time he comes undone inside you. It fills you with a kind of satisfaction your own climax doesn't bring for long. As his releases become more and more frequent, to the point where there is barely any time where he isn't shooting you up, you are in a pleasure induced bliss. You feel like you are floating on a cloud of ecstasy. He has grabbed your hips to raise your lower half up off the bed to slam his dick into your cunt with more urgency than before. His cum, mixed with your own juices, drips down your back, forming a puddle underneath your ass as he continues to thrust deeply and passionately. You moan in pleasure, feeling another climax approach like a freight train. You try your best to roll your hips on his dick as he holds them tight off the bed. Your hands grab your breasts, pinching on the hard nipples. Your body feels exhausted but is fueled by the aphrodisiac still in your system. You crave it like a drug.

Vash grunts in satisfaction as he comes again, and the wave washing over you pushes you over the edge too, your walls contracting around him in a pulsing rhythm so hard while he pulls back that he pops out. You whimper as, instead of slamming back into you, the length of his cock slides over your clit while he cums. You shake as he makes no effort to correct his aim, instead allowing himself to enjoy the rough texture of your lower lips. Each thrust leaves you gasping for breath and covers you with another of his loads. Your stomach and chest are slick with his cum, and some makes its way onto your tongue, making your cunt gush again as you long for him. Your body trembles with pleasure as you eagerly anticipate the next round of passion. You suck on your finger as you taste him on it, and you feel happiness as all the seed meant for populating a town with his offspring is all yours.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST (most of my other stuff is a lot more tame) and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

[beomgyw]

RISE AND SHINE

(IN WHICH GRANDMA PUSHES THE YEONJUN/YOU AGENDA)

welcome your first day of work!! seeing that a lot of you are reading all of the timelines, i'm trying to keep the paths as different as possible, but i'm still sowwy if you have to read through too many similar scenarios apart from the common ones. trying my best !! oh, and sorry for the long wait :( COMMON TIMELINE WARNING: for those of you who are reading through all the paths, you'll get to this scenario more than once. there's no important details added, so you can skip it if you've fount it on another timeline! if you're new here, hi! this is a multi-choice beomjun love triangle au fic !! if you wanna choose your own paths, go back to the beginning!

the morning sun saunters into the room, painting the walls with a soft, golden glow. easy does it, unlike the chaotic wake-up calls of seoul's streets. you had to admit, dragging yourself out of bed felt like a breeze in this beach town, where the sun tiptoes in with a gentle whisper.

you wake up happy, and the promise of working at a bookstore—it just fits right for you. so, after a brief internal fashion showdown (do not refrain from consulting your pinterest for your fic of choice), you are dressed and ready to go. that's when the smell of grandma’s breakfast gets to your room.

“y/n, dear, quick! come down before breakfast gets cold!” grandma's voice chimes through the bottom floor. it's astonishing, the energy this woman has in the mornings.

downstairs, you find yourself face-to-face with a steaming bowl of haejjanguk. a subtle jab, maybe, but grandma doesn't comment on the soju-based-gathering huening kai and you had the night before. instead, she chooses to ask about something else.

“you didn't come back home alone last night, did you?” she pours herself some coffee, cool as if she had just asked about the weather, and settles across from you with her newspaper. "boyfriend, maybe?"

you nearly choke on your stew. “what? oh, uh, yeah– i mean, no. no way. grandma, i just got here.” you have absolutely no idea of how she knows, but somehow, she does.

your grandma raises an eyebrow, not even bothering to look up from the pages. “so what? you knew people before you left.”

“yeah, but i didn't even have time to– i couldn't have gotten a boyfriend in the span of one night, grandma,” you mutter. your grandma's seeming tranquility is what's taking you out of it.

"i don't know, kids are premature these days.” grandma muses, more to herself than to you. "so, who walked you home?"

you shrug, trying to play it cool. “just someone i knew from middle school. choi yeonjun.”

“just someone? you used to have a big crush on him when you were little, didn't you?” she lets the words hang in the air, fishing for a reaction.

“oh, come on, grandma, that was ages ago,” you protest. "and i didn't even like him that much..."

"really? because when we got your room repainted a few years back, you had this corner next to your bed with his name scribbled all over the wall..."

you curse yourself in your head. you really were an absolutely cringe kid. "that's just... children stuff..."

“could be... but, you know, your dad used to have a similar corner, with your mom's name.” she remarks casually. "he liked her since middle school, too. god knows why. his crush corner was worse; he drew little hearts around her name, even."

“why are you telling me all this again, grandma?” you ask, sipping on your stew, trying not to show how creepy her psychic abilities are.

“no particular reason,” she replies, "you're just costing me a fortune in repainting. and also because i don't think yeonjun is not that bad,"

"why would you not like him?" you ask. if you sounded defensive, your grandma ignored it.

"you know, he's a bit too much of a free spirit, but if you like him, i like him too... i'm a modern grandma." she says, and you keep quiet. this feels like a trap. “he might be unorthodox, but he's good looking, and he hangs with your cousin sometimes, which must mean he has a kind heart." she tells you. but then something dawns on her, "speaking of your cousin, why isn’t he up yet?” she questions, springing up from her seat with surprising vigor. she's got the energy of ten yous.

"the sun isn't even fully up yet..." you chime in, relieved for the change of subject. but the peace is short-lived. she's finished her coffee; ergo, she's finished her break. she's done with the interrogation bit. like a drill sergeant, she storms upstairs to wake kai up.

when she returns, she dives into the kitchen for clean-up duty without wasting a second. you attempt to lend a hand but receive a sharp slap on the wrist. "it’s summer, gran, cut him some slack," you say, rubbing the affected area with your other hand.

"slack? it's summer for you too, and you're off to work. unlike him. he works but doesn't get paid. he's a pushover, your cousin." grandma grumbles, her voice slicing through the clatter of dishes.

“what do you mean?” you prod.

“he does volunteer work,” she spits out. "spends more time at the geoje social centre than in his own bed. and it is nice of him, yes. but one must be kind, not stupid.”

curiosity burning, you press for more details. “volunteer work? what's he helping with?”

with a dismissive wave, grandma brushes off your inquiries. “who cares? all i know is he’s not getting paid for it.”

before you get a chance to dig deeper, huening stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep, looking like he’s just fought a battle with his bedsheets. “you’re up already?” he groans at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“yeah, first day at work,” you reply with a sympathetic grin.

“oh, good luck." he smiles lazily, his words interrupted but a massive yawn. "wanna hang out later? i can come pick you up.”

“sure, hyuka. once you've fully woken up we can hang out,” you chuckle, slinging your bag over your shoulder and starting your way to the door.

you grab you things and leave the house after ruffling huening´s hair in exchange for a dismissive hand gesture, as if he was trying to keep a bee away.

now off to work! or should you get coffee first?

NEXT PART !!

[mayyosgallery]

Continuation

It's all to easy to think Scarlet always had a plan, her control felt so tangible. But, then, what did she really expect?

[jedi-bird]

Slow progress. Finally built the outdoor tool storage. It's not in the place I want, but we need to redo the seal around the house on the other side of the patio first. So in order to get the giant box and the fertilizers out of the house, I just set it up temporarily where it is. Sadly, since our patio is not level, the doors won't stay shut on their own. I'm going to need to get a lock and probably some waterproof caulking to seal the seams (they're definitely not made as well as the ones my grandma and I set up at her house years ago). On the plus side I have several small plastic containers who's lids have broken over the years that will fit in it perfectly to hold smaller tools and the bonsai wire.

[never2tired4u]

OBEY ME! Dateables x Reader

One night, out of nowhere, you started to feel an ache all over your little sheep body. It got worse and worse and you were just about to call for help, until your vision got surrendered by smoke! Once you opened your eyes again you… were turned back into your human form!

Characters: 《°•[ Solomon , Simeon , Diavolo , Barbatos...]•°》

Summary: 《°•[ Sheep MC turns back into human... ]•°》

Warnings: 《°•[ Simeon , Barbatos' part contains suggestive themes...Also Simeon's part contain a spoiler from lesson 76, sorry to anyone who got spoiled 😭]•°》

“Oh no.”

“What do you mean ‘Oh no’?” you grumbled, crossing your arms as you glared at the shady magician. His face contained a frown, making you confused, “Not happy that I turned back into human?”

“...Are you happy that you turned back into human…?” Now he sounded confused too, “I thought you might be sad considering when you were a sheep no one expected you to walk long distances, cook meals, or clean. And you were always carried by one of the brothers, weren't you?” he sighed, making you realize how much attention he paid to your sheep form. He was right, people let you off the hook more easily when it come to chores. After all, you were small, and had no fingers, but the downside was that you were small and had no fingers.

“Yes, but both forms have their ups and downs… Being a sheep wasn't as fun as you seem to think.”

“Maybe I should turn myself into a sheep?”

“...What?”

“Well, I wouldn't mind being carried by you. I used to love carrying you around, you might like having me in your arms too.” he smiled, you didn't know what to think of his smile though. He doesn't seem to be actually interested in this topic, it was more like he was trying to hide something.

And yes, Solomon actually IS trying to hide something, nothing important, really. Just his jealousy. Like usual.

He noticed how people's eyes lingered on your form more after you turned back into human, and they always had this weird mesmerized look in their eyes whenever you walked by which made him furious. Only he is allowed to look at you that way. So maybe if he became a sheep and made you carry him around he could scare your new suitors? Played little harmless pranks on them?

“Solomon, please.” your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “You are fine the way you are. And I was…really looking forward to the day we could walk hand in hand.”

…

Ah. He is sure he had the same mesmerized look on his face he was talking about.

Your warm hand enveloped his as he blindly followed you, not really caring where you are taking him, “I'm sure your sheep form would be very cute though.” you said with a smile which made him chuckle.

“Haha, yes, I think so too.” he looked at you with a faux innocence, “maybe we can both turn into sheeps and run to the horizon hoof in hoof?”

“Solomon.”

(*** suggestive)

Simeon was sitting on the sofa in the Cocytus hall and browsing through his phone, more used to the technology now. However the calm atmosphere surrendering him disappeared when a sudden weight on his shoulder made him jump a little. He turned his head to see what it was to only find you resting your head on him.

You hummed, not looking sorry for scaring him at all, “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“Ah.” right, you weren't a cute little sheep anymore. You were in your human form, able to reach places, like his shoulders, “I forgot that you can reach my shoulders now.” he chuckled.

You joined in his laughter then let out a fake angry huff, “You better get used to it.”

Simeon looked at you, unfortunately, he was only able to see a little bit of your face since your hair was in the way. It was a little upsetting that he couldn't see it fully but your hair tickling his jaw made his sadness quickly disappear. He sighed happily as he placed a hand on top of your head, “Then, perhaps you should spend more time with me to help me adjust quickly.”

“...So~ does that mean you prefer human me?” you said with a smirk as you looked up at him.

“Hmm…I have to say, as a sheep you were very cute.” he mumbled innocently, but the teasing smile on his face said otherwise. However, it quickly became wobbly as soon as he saw your frown, “Of course, you are cute like this too.” he quickly added.

“I see…Not ‘very’ cute though, huh.”

“H-huh?”

He tried to meet your gaze as you stared at the floor, seemingly in deep thought. He hoped he didn't make you angry. Simeon opened his mouth to apologize only to find himself suddenly lying on his back. A shocked expression appeared on his face, and his cheeks warmed up as soon as your face came into view.

You got on top of him, body creating a shadow over him. How fitting, considering you do really bring dark thoughts in his mind.

“Shall I give you different reasons to love this body, Simeon?” you said, voice calm maybe a little playful, it was nothing to be afraid of but for Simeon you were really intimidating at this moment. Even if he wasn't an angel anymore he still felt like he was about to get corrupted by you -again-. Which seems to make him embarrassingly more excited.

“Yes… Please do.” he could only whisper, not really thinking straight. He shut his eyes and waited for you to do whatever you please with him.

Once you turned human the very first thing Diavolo did was laugh happily and offer you lots of, I mean, LOT OF clothes. Rambling to himself and not hearing your protests as he went around the shops to get even more, “Maybe this dress? Oh! This suit is made with such fine fabric too! And these shoes would go nicely with them! What do you think of these accessories- actually. We'll just take them all, please put it in the basket!” he chuckled.

“Diavolo, where would I even wear those?” you let out a tired sigh as you walked behind him, starting to miss your sheep form with how much walking you had to do. If you were a sheep, you could've just made him carry you in his arms…Now that you think about it, it's been a while since he… showed his affection physically. He was acting more like a sugar daddy instead. It's been so long since he hugged you that you were actually starting to miss his crushing hugs.

“Can you try these for me?” he turned around to give you the bags, inside of it was probably the clothes he was talking about, “I promise these are the last ones.” he said, sounding apologetic, probably noticing how tired you seemed. You just nodded and went into the cabin. Once you were done, you stepped out. Only to be greeted by Diavolo's sparkling eyes and huge smile, “Just as I thought, it looks great on you!”

You were kind of getting nervous at this point, he was really starting to act like...a stranger, “Uhm, you think so?”

“Yes, it can stay on you if you want. Let me just go and pay-”

“Diavolo, why are you trying to dress me up?” you decided to finally question him, at first it was a nice way to spend time with him, no matter how tired shopping was actually getting, but now…

“Do you think…I look ugly? Is that why you are dressing me up in expensive clothes…?”

“What?!” you have never seen Diavolo look this horrified, “Of course not- I- No, that's… Did I seem like that?” he sighed, “Love…I apologize deeply. I was just really excited. After seeing your human form I just couldn't help but imagine how you would look like in different clothes, but there are just objects to make your beauty shine more, nothing else.” his warm hands grabbed yours, giving them a little squeezed as he gazed into your eyes.

You were starting to feel a little bit okay, but still wanted to tease him as a punishment. So you crossed your arms and huffed, “And you've been acting a lot distant too! Everytime I try to hug you you are running off to somewhere, very rude!"

He chuckled when he noticed how you were playfully scolding him, “Oh dear. I didn't even notice. Looks like seeing you like this, really did make me…” he suddenly stopped, eyes locked into yours as his cheeks slowly darkened. Diavolo turns his head, “As I was saying…” he mumbled, voice shaky, “I'll be sure to act more carefully.”

“That isn't what I want…” you sighed, frowning. Seems like the future king is still unable to understand your requests, “I don't want you to act more carefully, I want you to act like my lover.”

“Oh!”

“Now, give me a hug?”

“Of course!”

(*** suggestive)

Barbatos is someone who prefers to stand back and observe people, hence why you didn't see him much after you turned. Only after everyone had their moment and talk with you did he come to you, and even then it still a very short interaction. He smiled and said, “I'm happy for you.” with his usual charming smile on his face when… talking to people. However, you were hoping for more from him. Especially with something like your outer appearance. You wanted to see him become surprised with your appearance or something, like those cheesy cliché scenes in romance movies.

“Reality can be really disappointing…” you mumbled as you watched Barbatos cook dinner.

“Hm? Where is this coming from? You sounded a lot like Leviathan just now.” he didn't turn around, continuing to stir the pot.

“Barbatos, do you ever get surprised or embarrassed?” you asked without thinking, but guessed it would be fine since he won't understand what you are talking about anyway. Just a random question. Yeah. Nothing weird about that.

“I do, of course.” he put away the spoon, finally turning to you, “I do get…Surprised. From lot of things.”

“Really? That's hard to believe…” you muttered to yourself, “Like what?”

“You.” he smiled.

“Me??” you almost fell from your chair, maybe your appearance really did affect him but he was good at hiding? “Uhm… Why?”

Barbatos tipped his head to the side as he closed his eyes and smirked, “Just the way you act. Your personality. And how you overcome difficulties.” the way he said it seemed so…polite and kind. Which made you weirdly annoyed since you already heard something like this from him. However, you shouldn't get frustrated at him for that...

“I…” you tried not to sigh, “Appreciate it.”

“And how you are seeking my compliments is also very surprising.”

“I- wait, what??”

He chuckled, appearing in front of you in a blink of an eye. Giving you no time to gather yourself, “The brothers, the angels, other demons, and even the Demon Lord... They all complimented you but here you are sulking because I didn't say anything about your human form?” he leaned in closer, taking his gloves off and placing his hands on your cheeks. His sudden warm touch on your cheeks surprising you as he held your face. Without his gloves it was strangely very… Intimate.

The feeling of one of them sliding from your cheek, to your jaw and slowly to your hand to bring it to his lips is even more exciting, “I can't say I dislike it.” he whispers, his breath tickles your skin which causes your whole body to shiver as his piercing eyes look into yours, “If you are curious about what I think maybe I can tell you, or maybe you would like me to show you? Which one would you prefer?”

��2O23

[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

[another-lost-mc]

the characters finding out about mc's fwb but instead of it being with a random demon, it's solomon >>>>

them being flabbergasted not only about the situation but that you have the arrangement with that shady sorcerer. also frustrated because of course you'd take comfort on the only other human in the devildom!

➤ when they find out solomon is your fwb

characters: the demon brothers + dateables

1k words | gn!reader | nsfw | snarky and suggestive

c/w: jealousy, non-explicit sexual content, implied voyeurism, implied threesomes/moresomes

related: finding out you having a fwb: the demon brothers | the dateables

disappointed but not surprised: lucifer, beelzebub, diavolo

They warned you, didn't they?

Solomon is the shadiest sorcerer to ever exist. He's powerful and unpredictable and he can't even be called human anymore. Why in all the Devildom did you have to pick him? You could've had literally anyone else!

Unheeded warnings about not getting too close to Solomon turn into vague reminders that the demons are there to save you from that white-haired menace if you ever need them to.

Lucifer sneaks behind your back and gives Solomon the world's scariest shovel talk, which is a little silly since this was only supposed to be a casual arrangement for comfort and intimacy. (Of course, no one realized that you and Solomon managed to catch feels along the way.) Lucifer's thinly-veiled threats promising a painful demise should be enough to scare anyone away.

None of them expect Solomon to abruptly end your casual relationship so that he can date you officially instead. He looks far too smug with himself when you hold his hand at RAD in front of the others or when he becomes a semi-regular visitor at the House of Lamentation.

Your undeniable happiness is a constant reminder to the others that they underestimated both humans in the exchange program.

why didn't anyone stop them?! (yeah, they're jealous af): mammon, leviathan, satan, belphegor

This is awful. Isn't this why they were supposed to keep an eye on you, to keep you from getting mixed up with people like him?!

"Weren't you supposed to do that, Mammon?"

"Shuddup!"

They hate Solomon's guts. They don't think he deserves you. (They might not deserve you either, but you could do a hell of a lot better than him!)

They roll their eyes and gag dramatically when Solomon kisses your cheek or cozies up beside you in the cafeteria at lunch. When you're not looking, they shoot daggers at him and make not-too-subtle gestures that translate roughly to I'm watching you and if you hurt them, you die. They're less subtle and more aggressive than Lucifer is, and Solomon thinks it's hilarious.

He knows how lucky he is that he caught your eye first and not them. He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't enjoy rubbing it in their faces just a little bit. Maybe he forgets to use a silencing charm on your bedroom door when he fucks you in the House of Lamentation.

Maybe he wears low-collar shirts to show off the fresh line of marks you made around the base of his neck. He leaves a toothbrush in your ensuite bathroom and spare clothes in your closet.

Sometimes you wear his clothes when you don't have class because they still smell like him. You don't notice the demons sitting beside you at breakfast twitch in their seats and suddenly lose their appetites.

You feel so fortunate that you found friendship and love in the Devildom. Your friends tell you (and themselves) that they're happy for you too. You don't notice how fake their smiles are when they see you together (but Solomon does).

they're surprisingly okay with it and no one understands why: asmodeus, barbatos, simeon

They don’t know whether to blame fate or their own bad luck that brought you and Solomon together. They grudgingly admit you could do a lot worse than the white-haired menace that seems to adore you. As long as you’re happy and treated well, they don't feel it’s their place to interfere.

The others might sulk and pretend they’re not disappointed, or they might be openly belligerent about it, but some of your friends still support you above all else.

Asmo drags you into his room and gossips with you about Solomon while he does your nails. Tell me, you can be honest—how is he in bed with you? I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else! Oh, I bet he's so romantic, isn't he~ He’s curious about your relationship and teases you for intimate details that are too personal to share, but you know he's genuinely excited for you.

Barbatos doesn’t say much about your relationship openly, but he enjoys reminding the others that if they were less distracted by their own foolishness, they wouldn’t have taken you for granted.

Simeon welcomes you with open arms as a guest to Purgatory Hall when the atmosphere at the House of Lamentation grows too stifling. He does his best to make sure Solomon doesn’t completely ruin dinner when you visit in the evenings. He enjoys discussing books and your other shared interests when the sorcerer is busy; Solomon knows you're safe with the angels in his absence.

Like Asmo and Barbatos, you grow closer with Simeon as well through your mutual connections to Solomon. You might not realize what they’re up to when they try to spend more time with you outside of class, but Solomon does. Their sweet gestures of comfort linger far too long to be considered platonic, and the way desire creeps into their eyes when they gaze at you from afar would irritate him if they were anyone else.

He has long, colourful pasts with both Asmo and Barbatos, and Simeon quickly became one of his trusted friends while living in the close quarters of Purgatory Hall together. It wouldn't be the first time Solomon invited one of his acquaintances for a little bit of fun in the bedroom, but that was only to share casual partners he didn’t have feelings for. The thought of sharing you with anyone else nearly drives him to violence.

Time dulls those jealous impulses, and he admits how appealing it would be to watch you with one (or more) of them together. You’re so lovely in the throes of pleasure, and there's a certain thrill from watching on the sidelines. He knows they'll obey without question when he tells them how to touch you, and he can savor watching you fall apart under their hands and his sinful commands. He gets hard just imagining you crying out his name when you cum, even if one of the others is between your legs instead of him.

If you admit to feeling desire for any of them, he'll discuss those delicious possibilities with you too.

read more: headcanons masterlist | obey me! masterlist

[selineram3421]

*new version of Alastor takes over the Internet* Hehe.

Cursed Cat Headcanons

Curse Cat Alastor & Human Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ mentions of death, "normal" cat stuff ⚠

You find a strange looking cat at the shelter.

The red creature was separated from the other cats and behind a heavy duty glass with multiple scratch marks.

"Can I interact with this one?", you asked.

"I don't think we are allowed to let that one out...", the worker says. "We're not even sure if its a cat."

You were also not sure as the little creature had antlers.

"Might have been dead this morning.", they mumbled but you caught it.

"Uh...ok.", you say, feeling a little put off how calmly the employee said that. "I'll take them."

And that's how you got a cat.

Once having the necessary items and a cat tower order placed, you bring the red cat home.

It sounds a bit angry. Growling, hissing, scratching and biting the inside of the cat carrier.

Maybe they didn't like small spaces..

Their first day was...something.

You ended up having to fix or toss out a lot of furniture.

They seemed to like sitting on top of your bookshelf. Often watching as you cleaned around the room or when you slept.

Kinda creepy. And you swore you saw their eyes glow once.

But other than the strange shadows and weird noises, you didn't have problems. In fact, they took care of the spiders and other pesky bugs that managed to get into your home.

Eventually, you tried to call them by names from a list that you made but they mostly ignored you whenever you tried.

It wasn't until you were watching Hazbin Hotel that the red cat perked up.

"I'm Alastor!", your favorite character introduced himself.

The red creature then hopped onto your coffee table and stared at you, effectively grabbing your attention.

"What is it?", you asked before noticing your T.V. glitch and loop.

"I'm Alastor!", it said again. "¡'m Al@$tør!", it started to distort. "Ĭ̢̜͝'m̬̟̑͗ Á̘͉̉l͈̯̾̀á̘͉̉s͚͈̭̦̈́̈̄͒t͙́ó͎̥͡ṙ̻!", the audio was getting worse and worse as it repeated. "ł'₥ ₳Ⱡ₳₴₮ØⱤ."

Glancing at your cat, you noticed it was grinning like the oh so famous cheshire cat.

"Uh..Alastor?", you said.

As soon as you called them the name, the episode continued to play regularly and your cat had its normal happy demeanor.

"Ok...", you paused the show and went to the kitchen for snacks. "I might have picked up a cursed cat."

After that, Alastor actually seemed to like you. No longer hissing or scratching you when you tried to pet them and sought you out for some cuddles.

Hehehehe..

You had to take him to the vet for a check up and well.. It turned out exactly how you expected it to. Also, you found out they were a he.

He was number one..of the worsts cats in the vet hospital's care. They had to order new gloves meant for hawks.

After that, you got him a little bow to match the character Alastor and he seemed to really enjoy it. Of course, the red cat was quite fluffy and only the bow part was visible.

The cat tower finally arrived and you set it up. It was mostly black, coming with a feather toy as well.

"Done!", you stepped back and smiled at the finished cat tower.

Of course, like any cat, Alastor was not amused. Sitting in the packaging box comfortably.

"You know what? I'm not even mad. I used to sit in boxes as a kid.", you said and cleaned up the bubble wrap.

Things were turning out pretty well. That is until your neighbor got a weird looking pet. Now you knew Alastor was strange but he looked like a cat. Whatever the neighbor has was something else.

It was black with blue and some red. Flat looking face and a strange tail.

Maybe it was an exotic animal?

You weren't sure but Alastor hated, HATED, them.

And you made sure not to walk your little furball when the other pet was out. Making that mistake once. Once being enough.

I bestow upon ye cat Alastor!

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

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ML II for Alastor🎙️

[al1fers-haven]

I have a request :)

Maybe the reader owns Alastor's soul and calls him nicknames he doesn't like, but he puts up with it since they at least only do it in private.

He only gets them to stop after he calls them "sir/madam" in which they're like "😳 do it again"

(Fluff)

I absolutely loved writing this, i might incorporate it into a story I'm writing for him lol

“Of course Madam.”

Alastor x soul owner!reader. Prompt: After calling Alastor nicknames for so long and showing up in the most random places to do so, Alastor finally starts doing it back. Fluff

Alastor had literally owed his life to you, seven years ago when he was on death's doorstep you found him and nursed him back to health.

The rumors going on about some radio demon going missing and how they were so thankful really got you looking for him, and when you found him in that state? You couldn't just sit there and watch him die. About a year since the incident happened, Alastor offered his soul to you as a thanks for the help, bowing, and everything as he fixed the suit you fixed up for him.

And how could you say no to such a handsome man offering himself like that? Let alone an overlord.

He spent 7 years around you as thanks, cooking for you when you asked, doing the shopping, and then returning to his little radio shack that you adored oh so much. The man was completely oblivious to the signs you threw at him. When you asked him to accompany you to the Happy Hotel the princess was running, he almost wanted to say no till you poked out your lower lip and pouted. His leash was in your hand as he grumbled a yes.

Of course, whenever you two got to the hotel, it started with little things, calling him Al in front of everyone else and nothing else. Little snickers left Angel's lips at how quick he reacted to your asks. Constantly at your beck and call. But then it started to get worse.

Instead of Al, whenever you two were doing literally anything together alone you'd start calling him 'Puddin', or even 'Hon.' A lot of different reactions coming from Alastor each and every single time. His ears twitched as he expressed his obvious dislike for all of the nicknames you called him. Pudding? No

Sweetheart? Hell no

Berry man? Nope!

The only one he somewhat tolerated was 'Honey'. A warm feeling settled in his chest every time he heard that word fall from your lips. It wasn't until he spoke to rosie about it that he realized he might've fallen for your annoying habits.

It wasn't until he started that your feelings for him were obvious. Your face turned red as you called you mon cher and placed your plate in front of you. He couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. Your eyes go straight to the food.

"Alastor, be a sweetie and grab me a glass of water?" You looked back at the tall man. Alastor nodded his head and bowed a bit playfully. "Yes ma'am." You blinked a couple times, face flaring up once more as you suddenly appeared in front of him. Surprise written on his face. "What'd you say?" He tilted his head. "Yes ma'am?" You went quiet, squinting at him. "Say it again Alastor." "...Yes ma'am?"

You've never pounced on a guy that bad before, kissing him and nearly knocking him over actually.

The next time the group sees Alastor he's a mess, lipstick stains all over his face and shirt collar. His face was a bit pink as you stood next to him, lipstick smeared and smiling ear to ear. "ug...So..Mr.Smiley has a game?" Angel pointed at Alastor with a bewildered face.

[ddejavvu]

This might be terrible, but Eddie and Steve relentlessly teasing you because they think the reader has a crush on someone but the crush is them and Eddie is just being pervy about it while Steve is making light hearted jabs like "I know who you like" and the reader freaks out a bit.

Sorry for the ramble 😅

part I | part II | part III | part IV

—

"Why so tense?" Eddie's ring-clad fingers grip tight at your shoulders, the heels of his palms digging into your neck. You tense at the sudden contact, his frizzy curls dangling over your face as he leans over you from behind.

Your shoes raise off of the sticky food-court floor, a sickening squelch coming from the soles. You stiffen under Eddie's touch, feeling his fingers prod relentlessly into the sensitive muscles in your shoulders. He has no idea what he's doing to you.

"She's looking for the guy," Steve offers with a sly smirk, "She's got a crush."

Your heart stops in your chest. Steve knows. Eddie knows. They know. You tense impossibly tighter at Steve's bold statement, and Eddie picks up on it, a shit-eating grin sneaking over his face.

"Oh," Eddie practically purrs, "Do tell, Harrington."

"I'm not telling you who it is," Steve scoffs, and your heart leaps in your chest: he knows who it is?

"Baby," Eddie cranes your neck up with a finger to your jaw, peering down at you indignantly, "You told him, but you won't tell me?"

The pet name sends butterflies swarming in your tummy, "I didn't tell him," You insist, "Honest! And- and I don't have a crush on anyone! You guys are mean."

You dismiss them huffily, poking at your pitiful pasta. You shouldn't have gotten spaghetti, the sauce is watery and the meatballs are dry. But it keeps you distracted from the hot water you've just landed yourself in, and you stuff your mouth so they can't get any further answers from you. The mischievous smirk on Steve's face had been wildly attractive, and Eddie's finger is still hooked under your jaw.

"Right," Eddie drawls, his well-manicured digit slipping beneath the strap of your bra and giving it a sharp snap to your skin, "That's why you wore your pretty pink one?"

"Dude," Steve grimaces at him, "You know which bras are her good ones?"

"'Course I know," Eddie boasts, "I pay attention."

To your tits?

Your cheeks flare with heat at Eddie's flirtatious statement, and Steve watches you squirm. He reaches over to swat Eddie's hand away. The metalhead sits down with a huff, propping his chin up in his hand and staring imploringly at you with his big brown doe eyes.

You're not sure which is worse. Steve's kind concern for your comfort, or Eddie's relentless banter. But then both happen at the same time, and you realize they're both equally terrible for your health.

"You know if you get a big dumb boyfriend," Eddie speaks, his voice soft to your ears, "You can't leave us in the dust."

"He's right." You know Steve will regret saying those words for the rest of his life, but he squints suspiciously at you, "We want you to be happy, and all. But if you stop coming over for movie night, we'll start a riot or something."

"A riot," You scoff, busying yourself by poking at your cold pasta, your voice downtrodden, "I'm not gonna get a boyfriend, Steve."

"Hey, don't say that!" Steve reaches out to swat gently at your shoulder, "He must be really dumb if he's gonna reject you or something."

He is, you think, watching Eddie's amused smile at your growing embarrassment, though concern hides behind it. Then Steve, who, bless his heart, hasn't ever picked up on blatant flirting, now claiming himself to be the pinnacle of stupidity.

Something is absurd about the situation, and you let out a snort, "Yeah, he's fucking brainless."

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Matching - Portgas D. Ace

Find more of my work here: Tumblr MasterList

This is a little idea I had for a larger Ace fanfic I'm working on. I might revise this! Please let me know if he's in character or not...I'm starting to have my doubts.

It had been the better part of a week. No, maybe a whole week at this point. While before you’d spend most of your free time around him, now you were constantly “busy.” Heck sometimes he even finds it difficult to find you on the Moby Dick! Was this the end of the honeymoon phase everyone warned him about?

Were you starting to get tired of him?

You kept sneaking around...without him! Before you used to sneak around together! Worse still is…every time he pops up to see you, you always seem like you're hiding something. It's like quickly stashed papers, and tightly clenched fists. It’s the way you spin on your heel, and tense up, when you used to not do that at all.

What was maddening was how when the evenings would hit, or even at random parts of the day, you’d run and crash into him with a huge hug. You’d beam at him bright and genuine just upon seeing him, heck you’d be practically vibrating with joy as you’d squeeze the life out of him. He’d almost turned to fire once.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him?

When you did cuddle with him, your eyes seemed to linger on the tattoo on his arm. He’d even woken up to you tracing it with your finger once before. You’d looked sheepish that he’d caught you admiring it…actually you looked a little…panicked too…

You’d squirmed in his grasp when he asked you about it. Saying things like how it’s pretty, and how it’s a tattoo unique to him, so you were admiring it. You're pretty good at dodging his line of questioning whenever he voices his suspicions about your behavior. You were also incredibly sneaky about distracting him with your affections, and by the time he’s regained his original line of thought, you’d already be gone. 

There's something fishy in the air and it's not the sea king he caught the other day.

He only finds out what it is you'd been scheming behind his back when he gets back from a mission. He was so distracted for most of it. He couldn’t figure out why you were so clearly avoiding him sometimes…were you having second thoughts? What was going on? Was this an elaborate prank?

He was still in a daze as he made his way back to the Moby Dick. You used to bring peace, yet right now you’d thrown him into turmoil. He hated the way he was doubting you. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

“Hey look Ace’s back!”

“How’d it go champ?”

“Aaaaaaacee!” It was your voice that pulled him back completely.

He’d barely had a moment to look up than you’d thrown yourself on him with a hug. The force of it all almost send him toppling backwards. His hat had been knocked off his head, and he could feel the press of its medallion on his throat. He's relieved at how genuinely happy you are to see him, yet still an unease twists up his stomach in knots.

You pull away much too quickly, pulling his arms and rotating them, checking for any damage. The way you're checking up on him to make sure he's not hurt and that he's okay floods his entire system with warmth. Yet he can't help the constriction in his chest and the nagging as to what it was that had you sneaking around before he left if you missed him this badly?

He can hear the crew laughing at the obvious display of affection.

“Being bold there little missy,” they taunt you.

You shrink in on yourself a bit, embarrassment catching up to you. However when you take his hand in yours, and whistles and cheers break out, “I was doing it for Ace,” the timidity in the lines of your shoulders and face brings the heat to his own face, “I thought he might like it.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Yet his brain screams at him, then what was all that sneaking around about?

Unsure how to deal with things, he just studies you closely as you ask him about how things went and how the mission was. You're not up to anything really, or at least it doesn't seem like it. You're as attentive and engaged as ever, things are just as they used to be before.

You drag him to the kitchen, knowing he must be hungry as he usually is after a mission. You even sit with him in your little corner of the mess hall while he eats, something you hadn’t done much prior to his departure. He's talking to you about the guy with the interesting abilities that he'd fought with his mouth full, and you're indulging him.

Yet even as he tries to fall into your old pattern, the confusion only festers further. What had been going on with you?

He feels absolutely awful, doubting you with the way you’re listening to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. To be fair, to you, he really is. He keeps talking and chewing and answering your questions, yet the thing he really wants to talk about is bubbling just below the surface. Somehow all the tension and excitement peaks and he goes head first into his plate of food.

When he finally comes back to, there’s no food on his face, and he’s resting on his arms on the dinner table, his plate off to his side. You’re still next to him, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, patiently de-tangling any clumps you come across. He groans while sitting up and blinking the sleep away.

“You’re up,” you observe aloud, “here let me clear these out of the way for you.”

You get up from beside him, unthinkingly pulling your sleeves up your forearms, and reach for the plates around him. He notices something odd about one of your hands as you walk away with the stack of plates in your hands, but before he can say much you're already on your way to the kitchen counter. He watches you, lethargically shoving food in his mouth as you hand the dishes over to Thatch, who looks at your hands, then looks his way for a moment with an amused grin.

He could actually hear the next thing as the cook raised his voice, “nah leave those dishes to me, go hang out with your loverboy.”

Had the pirate not shoved you away with a plate of food in hand, Ace got the feeling you would have pointedly ignored Thatch’s teasing to do the dishes. You walked back, your brow and lips pursed in a kind of indignation. He couldn’t help the little huff of amusement. You’d gotten much better at handling their teasing over time, but he wouldn’t deny it was cute how it would get to you sometimes.

You took a seat beside him again, sliding the plate the cook had given you towards him. Your…well he could only hope he was still really your beloved, just stared at you in silence as he chewed. For some reason it made you squirm.

That’s it. He’d had enough. He has to figure this out. You’d said it yourself, it’s really important to communicate things! That’s how relationships last!

“You’ve been real weird lately,” was what came out as he grabbed the new plate of food, “you been avoiding me?”

His brow furrowed at the way your gaze immediately fell, taking your expression with it, and how you began to fidget with your fingers - a nervous - wait. Ace’s hand extended to grab your left one, bringing it up to his face.

There on your left wrist, right where your pulse sat, in black ink sat the letters ASCE, arranged horizontally and smaller, but a perfect replica of his own otherwise. Instinctively he rubbed his thumb across it, almost as though he was checking to make sure this wasn’t an illusion and that wasn’t just normal ink from a pen.

You were looking back at him, he could see it in the way your shoulders bunched near your ears, and the wobble of your lips, and how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long, but kept glancing back at him…you were nervous. He absentmindedly began drawing circles on your wrist, just staring at you.

“I was avoiding you, I guess,” you admitted, “I was hoping to surprise you with that,” your free hand moved to play with the hem of your shirt, as you shrunk even more, “was it presumptuous of me? Should I have asked first?”

“For a second I thought I’d managed to chase you away,” he admitted quietly, looking back down at the mark of permanence you’d etched into your skin, “that you’d gotten sick of me.”

You snatched your hand away before he could think, moving in to embrace him, “get sick, of you? Then I’d be a tasteless heathen or…whatever, unworthy of you- totally - completely - absolutely unworthy of you!”

Your arms tighten around him, “I’m so sorry I put you through that love.”

“All that sneaking around was for this tattoo?” He couldn’t help the involuntary little crack in his voice. “You really did surprise me darlin’.”

He pulls away from you first and his hands find your wrists, and his eyes again fall onto the symbol, the symbol of him, lovingly tattooed into your skin. A mark to let people know just who put the ring on your finger. 

He didn’t look up from it, even when you spoke up again, “Ace,” he just traced circles over the mark that sat proudly in bold black letters, “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way - wait does that sound? It’s not-no wait. It’s my fault!” He glanced up at you for a moment as you struggled to put what you wanted to say into words, working strenuously to apologize sincerely.

His lips wobbled upwards.

He couldn’t help it.

You’d gone out of your way, to tattoo his mark onto your body. He couldn’t help but stare at it as he continued to rub circles with his thumb. Not only that, you were straining yourself so much all because he voiced that damned insecurity of his.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that?” You tried again. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” You paused, and he felt you move closer. “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you-no-I’m sorry that I did hurt you.”

There was a pricking at the corners of eyes, as he finally took his eyes off your little gift to him to look at you. There was a kind of relief, or maybe it was appreciation? Maybe even a tinge of surprise? He was touched, that was one thing he knew for sure-if the fire that burned in his chest was any indication. He was a sick bastard for appreciating this, wasn’t he? Seeing you so genuinely apologetic - it was alarming really, did he really deserve this apology when he was doubting you? How could he ever hope to compete with this?

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, doll,” his voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to rub circles into your wrists.

“No I do,” you insisted, “Ace, I’m happy you’re communicating how you felt to me,” you responded quietly, but firmly, “so don’t downplay how it felt when I was the one being sneaky.”

“You didn’t mean any harm though,” his lips pull into a gentle smile as he slowly brings your tattooed pulse up to brush his lips against it before flicking his gaze to meet yours, “you were here prepping this lovely gift for me and I was only thinking of myself.”

A smirk tugs at his lips at the way you have to shake yourself out of whatever spell he’d placed you under, “just because I didn’t mean any harm, doesn’t mean I didn’t do any harm,” you press on, shuddering a bit when he brushes another kiss to your pulse, “if you did the same, I’d probably have felt the same way too, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, cariña?”

He almost laughs at the affronted look you give him, firing back a, “forgive me for hurting you, love?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he’s smiling more now, “I’m glad you were being so sneaky, made this surprise all the better.”

“Don’t downplay your feelings Portgas D. Ace,” he could hear your frown, “your feelings are important to me, you’re important to me.”

“My full name cariña?” He couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes,” you answered immediately and he looked up to see how upset you looked - it was almost annoying - he’d rather not dwell, “I want you to get just how upset you were off your chest.”

That got a chuckle out of him, despite the irritation that was rising.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” his smile fell for a moment, “I don’t want to ruin this happy moment with stupid emotions in the past.”

“But I don’t want them to fester-” 

“Mi amor,” he looked at you, almost pleading, “it’s true I felt like you were ignoring me, but seeing your little surprise makes me the happiest man on the five seas.”

Seems that was enough to quiet you. Though… “six, if you include the All Blue.”

When you chuckled at him, he felt his smile returning. He honestly couldn’t care less about the past. He’d said his piece, you’d talked it out, he didn’t care anymore.

“So, you know I love you right?” The timid way in which you asked was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Yet, he grinned, and brought your marked pulse up to lips again, “I love you too.”

“Oi get a room!” The two of you startled at the sudden shout coming from the other end of the mess hall. “Sure we can barely see you in your little corner, but the lovey-dovey energy in here is off the charts!”  

“Shut up Thatch!” Ace fired back. “You’re just mad you can’t gossip to Marco about it!”

“You’re the one blocking the show!”

“Good!”

“It’s real funny though,” there was a pause, “who’d have thought the wild Fire Fist was actually a huge pile of mush!”

With the newfound yelling, people started to file into the mess hall. Which was when he noticed it was mostly empty prior to that. Of course among the people who filed in was the aforementioned first division commander.

“You like your little surprise Ace?” He asked the younger man.

“Wait you knew?”

“Who else would she ask yoi?” The medic gave him a lazy grin before turning to you. “So, did you get to say what you wanted to say yoi?”

Ace studied you as you shook your head looking both disappointed and sheepish.

“What did you want to say?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You huffed, a sheepish smile wobbling your lips, as you moved to his left side, your right hand pushing his upper arm to show more of his tattoo.

"See,” you held up your own tattooed wrist next to his arm, “now we match."

Extra:

Ace later: “I’m gonna marry her.”

Marco (who is next to him): “aren’t you already married?”

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Lucifer x Maladaptive Daydreamer, Sinner Reader

Not me self-projecting or anything 👀. Plus I love the whole "dreamer and broken dreamer" dynamic I can make with this, even if it isn't the same type of dreams. This is based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make it more generalized lol.

TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, mentions of depression and anxiety, escapism and dissociation, poor self-care from forgetting, fear of disappointment and disappointing others

• You probably met him at the Hazbin Hotel, to be honest. Normally, he wouldn't even look at a sinner. You're also not outwardly that different, either. The only thing that he might notice is that your eyes always look a bit distant, but he'd probably not question it. Why have a conversation with someone who is not present and in the moment?

• Charlie would have to introduce you, too. As said before, he wouldn't see the reason to talk to someone who doesn't seem to be paying attention. If Charlie wants him to talk to you, though, he'd do so. He wants a closer relationship with his daughter, and if simply introducing himself to you makes her happy, he would! Though, he is shocked to hear you are, according to her, an interesting person to talk to.

• So, he follows her over to you, all while she's saying "(Y/N), this is my dad, Lucifer! Dad, this is (Y/N), a guest at the hotel! They're a bit spacey, but they're trying their best... They're pretty unique, too! I'm sure you both will get along!"

• Once he gets a closer look at you... yes... you're very unique, to say the least. You look a little disheveled, but at the same time, like you're trying to look presentable. The look in your eyes also seems to flicker between paying attention and drifting off into your own head as he talks. When you respond, though, it sounds like you're at least retaining the basic information of the conversation.

• It takes a long time for him to actually become interested in spending time with you. Sure, you're an odd sinner, but still a sinner, and sinners are the worst in his opinion. However, he does visit the hotel every now and again to check in on Charlie in person. He's realized that calling her is not helping them get closer, even if he's still a bit confused as to why, so he's been visiting in person. Over time, he begins to notice odd things you do...

• You usually sit in the lobby, with a few other sinners, but don't talk to them often. Instead, you just sit there, making odd facial expressions every now and then. At first, he just assumed it was you reacting to the conversations the others were having, until he realized many of your expressions don't fit the topics. They'd be talking about exterminations, while you look calm, or about a pleasant event, with you looking sad or angry. Then, they'd be talking about fashion, and you'd look mortified. This sort of behavior interests Lucifer... You aren't like any other sinner he's seen. He, honestly, probably just assumes you're hallucinating or something. He'd rather ask Charlie, though.

• Unfortunately, she doesn't give away much about you. Something along the lines of "not wanting to talk to much about someone's personal problems without their consent", or whatever. He understands, but come on! He's her dad! A little gossip would be better than what he sees as a long silence between them. She does assure him, though, that you are not hallucinating. That, and she pushes him to interact with you, saying that his perception on sinners might change if he talks to some of the ones at the hotel.

• It's something that frustrates him... however, he pushes himself to do so. Anything for Charlie. Though, to him, it feels less like he wants his views to change and more like she's trying to to avoid talking to him. She never calls, after all... He still tries talking to you, though, and every time you seem extremely distant. That same flickering attention and that same disheveled look. Though, you definitely look worse than when Charlie called him to visit the first time, probably because you were caught on a regular day.

• You do make a few interesting statements, though. Mentions of days flying by fast, barely remembering parts of your life, a journal Charlie recommended you begin writing... Now you're getting interesting! Like a little mystery. He wants to figure you out.

• He'll try prying to get you to speak about yourself. What was your life as a human like? What were your sins, or biggest sin? Why do you look so... distant, all the time? Give him an answer! He'll take what he can get, and won't get upset.

• Daydreaming. That's the answer you give for looking distant. You don't really explain your answer, as if it should speak for itself. Though, you do mention that you're aware it's a "big problem", at this point. Dreaming... ugh... He doesn't even like the word, at this point, even if your type of dreaming isn't the same as his.

• You don't seem to want to tell him what you daydream about, outside of saying it's the types of things you can write a book about, instead of a simple self-fulfilling fantasy. You've got him hooked, now. This mystery has shifted gears. No longer is he as interested in you in general. Instead, your dreams are what he must know about. Which, granted, they probably will tell him a lot about you if they're so personal that you won't tell him.

• Whenever he spots you writing, he tries to sneakily look over your shoulder to read it. Usually, though, you spot him walking over before he can even try and close your journal. You do the same when anybody else walks by... except for Charlie. It honestly doesn't surprise him, since most everybody in the hotel seems to trust her, to some extent. He's just so frustrated. He wants to know more, but you won't say a thing, and Charlie won't, either!

• So, he decides to bite the bullet, and ask Charlie for help. Not the answers to his brewing questions, but instead about things you like. Interests the two of you might share with one another. Surprisingly, he learns that you and him share a lot more in common than he'd have expected a sinner to...

•He decides to try to talk to you about music, instead. What types of music do you like? Can you play an instrument? Do you have a favorite song, perhaps? The entire conversation is fascinating. Do you want him to play you a song, sometime? He'll be sure to bring an instrument the next time he visits.

• Once you do, eventually, listen to his music, he's absolutely entrance by the way you react to it. He's never really bothered to take notice of how you react listening to music before, assuming it's just like anyone else. He should've known that wasn't the case. Instead of a smile, or an attentive gaze, you're completely zoned out. Your expression is dull, which he'd normally be offended by, but he's quick to put it all together, now. That distant look isn't necessarily boredom or a disliking of the music... It's a dreamy look. You're daydreaming to his music. It only becomes more obvious once he changes the tones and your expression changes a bit, as if your daydream is changing alongside it. He's seen people dance, he's seen people sing, he's seen many types of reactions to music. However, to sit there and daydream is one he hasn't seen... At least, not so obviously and intensely.

• He doesn't want to embarrass you, so once he finishes playing his song, he won't mention it to you. He'll simply ask if you liked the song or not, then ask why. He'll slightly giggle, though, if you call it something along the lines of "inspiring" or "thought-provoking". A tiny little hint that he's slowly figuring out what is happening.

• Alongside your reactions to music, he does notice other things. Such as how sometimes, when he walks by your room in the hotel, he can hear the sounds of constant footsteps from behind the closed door. Sometimes he even hears tiny whispers, too, which sounds like your voice. Again, he doesn't say a word. If you're so secretive about such things, he won't pry... Which he, himself, is finding a tiny bit odd. He usually doesn't hold a sinner's privacy to such high regard, under the idea that he's King and needs to know what is happening... That, and his own anxieties making him feel the need to know as much as possible... But, for you, he's becoming a bit more aware of how odd that behavior can be when brought to a certain degree.

• So, he waits for you to tell him about it, yourself. And once you do, mentioning your little prancing, pacing, and your slight habit to act out your daydreams, he's ecstatic! For one, he's earned your trust enough for you to tell him such a thing. The other reason is that he has an idea! Why don't you try dressing up as the characters? It'd be an interesting way to engage in it. He's a musical man, he's probably heard of musicals, if not been in one! He could try getting you an outfit. If you don't want to, though, he's fine with it. It might be strange, after all...

• It takes a while, but soon, you both become close friends. Close enough that he's probably talked to you about feeling a bit lost and depressed, feeling very anxious for Charlie's well-being... In which case, he's probably a bit shocked to hear you relay the fact that, similarly, you are lost. Be it you feel depressed and or anxious, as well, or perhaps it's because you can't stop daydreaming. Either way, you let him know you feel similar, and he's shocked. He's always kind of assumed you daydreaming would help you escape from those types of feelings, not contribute to or possibly cause them.

• He listens more to your concerns and worries... and he relates more than he'd like to admit, in certain situations. Dissociation? You both kind of do it, in your own ways. Your daydreaming, you mentioned, might be that. You've never gotten checked, though, because therapists in Hell aren't the best. He knows all too well that he dissociates, from time to time, because Lilith pointed it out to him shortly before she left to do... whatever she's doing. You both forget to take care of yourselves, in your own ways. You daydreaming for so long, causing time to fly, and eventually forgetting whatever you forget... And him working on his rubber ducks to cope, focusing too much, and forgetting to do whatever it is he needed to do.

• He does get worried for you, and you probably get worried for him, as well. However, while he's not so sure about you, he's taking his worries for you and his daughter to try to better himself... Though, with you and him sharing things in common, he sees you as being a big reason to specifically better his mental health while Charlie is his reason to try to be a better father. How can he provide any sort of help to you when he's suffering, himself? Any advice would either, in his opinion, be bad, or be good but seem bad from the hypocrisy of him not following his own advice. So, he's got to help himself, yeah? He can do it all on his own, too! Watch him! He's not going to burden anybody else!

• Yeah, no. He's failed. Now, he feels worse. Luckily, though, you're there for him to go to! He would go to Charlie... But, he doesn't want to burden her with it. Quite frankly, he doesn't want to talk to you, either, but you can at least relate to him a bit. That, and he knows that keeping it all in is a part of what's made him feel horrible. So, again, you have your talks about life together... You mention your problems and he mentions his. You give him advice. Pretty good advice, actually. He gives you small tips on a few things to make life easier. Then, as always, the conversation shifts to happier topics. What made you happy, recently? Did you have any nice food today? Stuff like that.

• Though, one day, you seem to be thinking about something. You look from him, to nothing, then back to him almost on a loop. He simply assumes it's one of your daydreams, and instead speaks about whatever comes to his mind, being patient with you. From how his relationship with his daughter and her girlfriend is going along, how his rubber duck creation is going, to what he thinks of a few of the other guests at the hotel. However, he is a bit shocked when you begin speaking, very suddenly.

• You start talking about a seemingly random daydream you had, recently. Beautiful music, nice outfits, fun dances... You describe a scene of you dancing with someone on a glorious night. However, you don't say who it is you're dancing with. You just describe a beautiful scenario, which is about you dancing with someone. When he asks who it is, after you finish talking, you kind of just stare at him awkwardly.

• It takes him a few moments, then once it hits him, he begins to laugh hysterically in disbelief. No. You couldn't possibly be implying it was him! Once you outright say it, and add that you love him as more than a friend, though, he's both ecstatic and terrified. He feels the same way, yes, but he knows he has his own set of problems he'd be adding into your life if he got with you... And then you start talking about how you are worried you'd make him feel bad, as you know that your daydreams can hype up future events, like dates and such, to an unachievable expectation... then everything is disappointing, despite it being perfectly fine.

• He, however, wants to change that... or, at least your outlook on it. He will happily hold out his hand and admit that he feels the same. He feels the same love for you, the same worries for the future, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying. Just because something wasn't to your expectations, doesn't make it bad, yeah? Once you realize that you still had fun, you'll learn to still enjoy your life, even if it'll never live up to your daydreams.

• That's how you two began dating. You're both used to helping each other through rough times, and comforting each other, so there wasn't really a big adjustment period of having to learn to do so. Instead, the first few months were spent on sweet dates, as well as helping you with your daydreams causing expectations that can't be met. As each date goes by, he asks if you had fun, even if it wasn't all you dreamed up to be. As you realize how often you say "yes", you begin to feel much more confident that everything will be fine and doesn't need to be perfect.

• He's gotten into a little habit of planning a secret date or surprise every once in a while. That way, you don't have the chance to build up such high expectations of what it'd be like. You'll come home to see that he's made the most delicious looking dinner buffet, and spread it out over his dining table. Or, you'll come home, and he'll say that he wants to take you out to go dancing somewhere. Small little surprises.

• He's going to make a rubber duckling based on you. Or two. Or three... Or twelve dozen. He can think of so many designs based on your lovely stories. He knows that he shouldn't feed into the habit, and he's actively doing his best not to, but he wants to show you that you can create beautiful artwork with your daydreams. Music, paintings, books, plays... If you find that you can't daydream less, you can try to at least transform them into a real, tangible thing that others can see or hear. His duckies are just an example of that.

• He sometimes wishes he could create something that catches your attention more than your daydreams, but he can also understand that you may not have complete control of it. So, instead, he'll try to gently get your attention if he needs you, just wants your attention, or wants to remind you of something you need to do. Be it a little tap on your shoulder, him calling your name, or walking into your field of view and doing something silly.

• He's sure to check in on you daily, asking if you've been making sure to take care of yourself. Did you eat today? Did you take a shower? Did you drink a glass of water? You gotta stay hydrated! In return, whenever you can, you do the same for him. You both take care of each other as best you can.

• If you're one of those daydreamers who has trouble falling asleep because your brain won't turn off, he'll do whatever he can to at least help you relax. He'll cuddle you, try humming a little soft tune, or get you something to drink to help you relax a little.

• Sometimes, although he'd never admit it, he's a little jealous of your daydreaming. Yes, he's aware the grass is always greener on the other side, and that's why he wouldn't say it. He knows you'll chew him out and reminding him of the issues it's caused you. He can see them, so you don't really have to remind him. He's just... missed the feeling of having such an imaginative mind. Sure, he still has had one. Ever since he was dropped into Hell, it's been a bit harder to do so... then, once Lilith left, it has gotten worse. He's been a bit too depressed to dream...

• Though, he knows that you can dream enough for the both of you, and that you'll happily share ones you think will cheer him up. He loves you for how much you've reminded him of the importance of dreaming... Just, in moderation. He'll be there to ground you, whenever you need it.

[stevebabey]

question on my lips

kia ora my loves, i'm stuck with writers block on another piece and this is hopefully the cure <3 its all sweetness as usual [established relationship + fluff + 2k words] mucho mwahs as ALWAYS <3!

Steve’s in a bad mood.

Which might be very fair considering the state of the weather outside. Flurries of snow batter against the windows and a hair-raising chill leaks into the panes, painting them in condensation. It’s cold. You don’t want to be caught outside on a night like tonight.

But, somewhere across town, there’s a reservation under Steve’s name that is being wasted. At a pretty restaurant, with 2 too many forks for your taste — but Steve had insisted. Even put on a suit.

And even though Steve has told you he prefers the quieter nights in with just the two of you, he seems quite… miffed that you can’t go anymore.

Maybe not quite a bad mood but… well, it’s a hell of a pout he’s wearing.

Amber drenches the wall of the room, lit by your bedside table lamps — a cozy cocoon that feels worlds away from the blizzard coming down outside. You’re actually quite excited; there’s seldom a comfort like being in Steve’s arms when it’s cold like this. Tangled together in your bed, letting his perpetually blazing heart heat the both of you.

But… he’s still pouting. You’re both unwinding a bit, taking off what you’d managed to put on before the weather took a turn for the worse — but Steve’s stuck, hands in his pockets. He seems to be fumbling with something.

His silence worries you more. Maybe you hadn’t realised how actually upset he was that your plans were cancelled.

He had been mentioning it all week, all month actually- since he’d first made the booking. Some claim that you’d love the food and he loved any occasion to see you all dressed up and drool-worthy— (“Not that that’s not all the time, babe.”)

“Steve?” You say. His head jumps up, hands in his pockets going still. “C’mon, come to bed.”

He softens at your coaxing words. Like the very sound of them, the sweet nature of your words, melts his hardened edges. He nods, tugging off his tie and beginning to work on his belt.

In the meantime, you creep into the bed. It smells like a smattering of something sweet that you know to be Steve’s hairspray, fabric softener, and maybe what you think love might smell like if it had a scent. You sink into it lovingly. Warm. Safe.

Your eyes find him instinctively. Watching, observing, drinking in the sight of your lover soothes you like nothing else. Love spools messily in your chest, like a knotted ball of yarn strewn through your ribs. It aches sweetly. Steve catches you as he’s pulling a pair of sweatpants up his calf.

“You’re staring,” He states plainly, but he’s smiling a bit, lips turned up in the corners. He jumps, hiking his pants up over his hips, and wanders closer.

You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow. Your voice comes out a bit muffled when you speak. “That a crime?”

Steve grins this time. He pushes the covers back, kneeling on the mattress beside you — pausing to push back the hair covering your eyes. He smiles down at you, eyes fond. “If it is, lock me up, baby.”

He pauses, thumb drifting over cheekbone lightly. “I could look at ya all day.”

Something delightful purrs behind your ribs, warm and all-encompassing. Where you would’ve once hidden your face away, this time you just let your glee wash over your face — and let Steve see every second of it. You’re happy. Steve makes you happy.

Steve gives an awed exhale and flops, bouncing down on the mattress beside you. He works the duvet around, bundling up as best he can before his hands begin to search for you. Traversing across the sheets, seeking, til they meet skin. He hums happily. Pulls you into his chest and lets you figure out how you want to wrap around him, like unkempt ivy. He’s warm, as always.

You’re not even trying to sleep yet, either of you, just having a moment huddled up in each other's embrace. The wind whirls loudly outside. You wonder what you’d be doing if your plans had gone through.

“M’sorry,” you say into his chest. It rises and falls with his breath, soothing and constant. “That we couldn’t do dinner. Y’seemed really excited.”

Steve makes a little noise, saying that he agrees. For a moment, your words hang in the air and then he clears his throat, pulling you closer.

“S’okay, not like you can control the weather.” He murmurs his reply. He pulls back to peer down at you with suspicious eyes, a tease on his tongue. “Can you? Because as your boyfriend, I should totally know that, and considering what we’ve seen—“

“Shut up,” you giggle. You poke him in the ribs because you can’t think of a good jibe back.

“Shutting up,” Steve says, before snuggling back closer. There’s another moment of quiet. The window rattles in the absence of words. Steve sighs.

“Just…” He starts. You can already tell he’s got his thinking face on, a little furrow between his brows. “Had some good plans for tonight, is all. Not a big deal.”

“A plan within a plan,” you muse thoughtfully. Steve chuckles. “How layered this night could of been!”

“And instead, you just have to have this, huh?” Steve murmurs, dejection creeping into his voice. Your heart twists. He must’ve planned a lot just to watch it go down the drain.

You pull back from his embrace and catch his eyes, searching his face. Disappointment lingers in his expression and it pushes a pout onto your lips.

“Well, is there anything we can do? That was like your plans?” You ask.

Steve breaks into a grin, giving a chuckle — but a glint in his eyes says he’s grinning for another reason. He stares at you lovingly, eyes dragging up and down your face as he seemingly thinks of his answer. He shakes his head.

“Nuh uh. Nothing we can do tonight.” He says, a tad forlorn. His hand on your back sketches a soft stroke up your spine. You shiver in a good way and Steve speaks again, eyes searching somewhere behind you, imagining something. “Well, not— not the way I want to do this.”

There’s a long pause. At the same moment a soft realisation blooms in your chest and on your face, Steve seems to realise he’s said too much. His eyes widen, the apples of his cheeks turning scarlet.

“Were you gonna—?”

You push back from him, suddenly sitting up in the bed. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest, risking bruising the inside of your ribs with each resounding thud. You don’t even mind because… because…

Steve sits up too, wide-eyed expression still on his face. He looks flushed, taken off guard — he clearly hadn’t meant to tell you today. Well, he had meant to tell you today but he wanted to ask you at dinner, on one knee, and then the storm—

“You were gonna ask?” You squeak. A smile wobbles on your face as you try to rein in your reaction, even as joy floods every nerve. “Tonight?”

Steve seems unsure of the right way to answer. “Yes,” He stammers. Then crushes his eyes closed, dropping his eyes closed to curse. “Shit, I wasn’t supposed— I had it all planned! This isn’t—“

Steve pushes his palms into his eyes for a moment, dragging his hands down his face. You feel a pang of remorse for ruining your own surprise but it’s completely overshadowed by the rampant happiness. You can’t help yourself for what you say next.

“Yes.”

Steve blinks. “What?” A grin grows on his face, like your own is contagious even as he shakes his head. “I haven’t even asked you yet!”

He’s laughing, a glorious sound, and so are you. You're so full of love you feel stuffed like you’ve just eaten, it fills every crevice of your body. You nod. You think your teeth might be aching with how sweet the boy before you is— pouting and giving away his own surprises.

“I know,” you breathe. “But if- when you do, it’s a yes.”

And you’ve known it before. You have known it long before tonight that yours and Steve’s futures are knitted together so intricately that where one goes, the other follows. Still, knowing it and saying it— the difference steals your breath. You feel like a teenage fool again, back to the first time Steve ever asked you, ‘Be mine?’

Steve sinks into the pillows, deflating into them with a blinding grin. Like he hadn’t been sure up until right then. He giggles. Another awed sound, like he can’t quite believe what’s happening.

“Okay,” he breathes. You sink down too, curling up into him. His warmth feels burning hot now as he pulls you back into his arms, the same as he had a minute ago; this time, you swear your hearts are an inch closer.

“I gotta come up with a whole new plan now, don’t I?” Steve asks, eyes shining as he peers down at you.

You laugh a little bit, delirious, and shake your head. Gathering courage, even as your stomach twists up in the best way.

“Nope. You can… you can ask now, if you really want.”

You hope your voice betrays everything you mean; that he could ask anywhere and you would say still say yes. That it didn’t need to be somewhere fancy, didn’t need to be a big spectacle, he didn’t even need to get on one knee and you would still say yes.

Steve stares down at you, drinking in the sincerity of your expression and he softens impossibly more. Smile lines you adore get scrunched up as he gives a shuddering breathy laugh, punched out of him by his own enormous affection. Christ, he loves you.

His hand raises, cupping your jaw sweetly and he tugs you closer to meet him in the middle. You come home to him, lips meeting lips as he kisses you deeply and maddeningly. There are a thousand sentiments in his kiss, I want to marry you and I love you among them.

He pulls back and rests his forehead against your own. His hand on your jaw rubs soothing, fingers tucking some stray hair behind your ear.

“Got a plan.” He murmurs, a wickedly handsome smile on his face as he taps his temple.

You’ll have to wait, it seems. You think you can stretch your patience a little longer, especially for this. Your cheeks are beginning to ache from your smile.

Another quiet moment. Then, your eyes light up with the recollection of an earlier memory. They skirt across the room and land on their target, Steve’s crumpled pair of slacks on the ground. You recall his fumbling with his hand deep in his pocket.

Steve follows your eye-line and the moment he spots what you’re looking his head whips back.

Steve fixes you with a stern look, a warning that says don’t. You move an inch, more to tease than anything — you don’t want to see anything til he’s the one giving it to you — but you don’t get very far anyway.

“Oh no, you don’t—” Steve’s arms around your middle tighten, pulling you closer as you pretend to reach off into the distance.

He shifts you easily, setting you down into the pillows and then squishing himself atop you. You let out a strange noise, a surprised yelp as Steve lightly crushes you beneath him, a slightly maniacal grin on his pretty mouth. His hair is a mess, cheeks still glowing, and he looks utterly in love.

You wiggle a bit, seeing if you can free a limb. Maybe to pretend to escape, maybe to dig your fingers in and hold him closer. Either way, it’s fruitless.

Somehow, you’re not all the mad with the situation; squished lovingly beneath your hunk of a boyfriend so you don’t go scampering around searching for a- for your engagement ring.

“Can I at least get a kiss?” You ask, knowing he’ll say yes. If there’s one thing, it’s that Steve never denies you a kiss if you ask. His eyes look a tad misty as he looks down at you so so fondly, eyes drawing down to your lips.

He doesn’t disappoint.

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1

Silently, they swap seats. It feels ridiculous, how perfectly the whole exchange goes, how no-one else stirs, how the RV glides smoothly with Eddie's hands on the wheel.

“What about, uh, the walkman?” he asks, tries to sound matter-of-fact. Time for a new plan, time to think.

“No,” Steve says. There's a finality to his tone. “Max should keep it.”

Eddie exhales. “Okay, okay. There's—here, there's a radio.” He doesn't mention the fact that he's closer; knows that his hand would shake if he tried to reach for it. “Be great if you'd develop an emotional attachment to, like, all of the Top 40 right now, Harrington.”

There's a soft sound that might almost be a laugh. Eddie listens to Steve quietly moving around then returning to his seat, hears the static of the radio being turned on—volume low, as if Steve doesn't want to wake anyone up. The thoughtfulness, even now, makes something in Eddie's chest hurt.

But there's nothing, not even a whisper of a song, and then even the static stops. Steve has turned the radio off.

One second.

“No signal,” Steve says, and even though he's not looking at him, Eddie knows he's shrugging again, like it is what it is.

The panic Eddie had briefly kept at bay while trying to strategize comes flooding back. “Jesus Christ, this—this can't be happening.” There's another long pause, and Eddie inhales shakily, remembers how he hadn't noticed when Chrissy fell silent. “Hey, man, you've gotta—keep talking to me, okay, or I'm gonna lose it.” Let me know you're still here. Please.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “Talking. Um.”

“Um,” Eddie parrots. “Wow. Didn't finishing school teach you conversation skills?”

Steve laughs again—hushed but real. “Fuck off.” He sighs, then says, “God, this might be a weird thing to say—”

“Colour me intrigued.”

“—but I'm so relieved, dude, you have no idea.”

“You're right. That's an extremely fucking weird thing to say.”

“I didn't want it to be Max,” Steve says, so heartfelt that Eddie tightens his grip on the wheel. “Didn't want it to be... anyone, you know? It's—yeah, it's better like this.”

“‘Better’ is a strong word for it.”

“Mm. Like, come on, what's the worst he could have in store for me? The summer our AC broke, that was pretty rough—”

“Don't,” Eddie says sharply, and all at once the joking tone they'd built up evaporates. “Don't do that.”

“Do what?”

“Don't...” Eddie swallows. Recalls when he'd cut through the gym to get to Drama Club, how he'd glance over at Cheer Practice and think, They've all got it made, haven't they? Shiny fucking picture-perfect lives. “Don't bullshit me, all right?”

“...Okay.”

Eddie scoffs weakly, tries to regain the banter they were sharing. “Hey, if you can't be honest now, when can you?”

“Sure, that's—that's fair.” Steve shifts in his seat. “I was talking to Max, about the... when it happened to her. And she said she thought of happy memories, so. Got an idea of what to expect, at least.”

“Cool,” Eddie says, the mild tone only barely covering his anxiety. “Know what you're thinking about, then?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. He's smiling; Eddie can hear it. “Got a few things in mind.”

“Good, that's... that's good.”

The road is getting more familiar: it won't be long until they're nearing the Welcome to Hawkins sign.

“Kinda impressed with you, Munson. Was expecting you to drive like a bat out of hell.”

“Ha, ha. Special occasion, and all—”

A pained gasp cuts through the air, and Eddie's stomach lurches. “Shit, shit, Steve—”

“I'm fine,” Steve says quickly, “I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine.”

“Tell me the fucking truth. Please.”

“It's just my head. Hurts a bit. Not a big deal, I've had worse.”

From the clipped way Steve is speaking, Eddie knows it's more painful than he's letting on.

He slows and brakes at a stop light before taking the chance to, finally, look over.

Steve is staring straight ahead, eyes in focus, and Eddie suppresses a sigh of relief at the sight. But then he sees how Steve's jaw is clenched.

“How's the clock?” he says cautiously. Prays for a miracle.

“Still there. It's closer. And, um...” Steve's mouth opens, closes, opens again. “I'm guessing the black widows on the dashboard aren’t actually...?”

God, he says it so easily. Eddie can't comprehend the bravery of it. “No, there’s nothing there,” he says.

“S'okay,” Steve says, “I'll just look at you.”

“I've been told I'm a sight for sore eyes,” Eddie says dryly.

“Oh, I’d believe that,” Steve returns, somehow both matching Eddie’s tone and sounding completely sincere. He turns to Eddie and smiles. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“This bit really isn’t so bad, Eddie,” Steve says gently. “Just some spooky pictures, really. That’s kids’ stuff. And you’re—you’re good company.” The light changes. Eddie looks away with reluctance, starts up the engine again. “I try my best,” he says lightly, and wonders how someone can be so close to… to… (he can’t say it; he won’t say it). So close to that, and still smile about it.

You’re incredible, Steve Harrington.

“Home sweet home,” Eddie murmurs as they pass the Welcome sign. “Hey, we made pretty good time, too.”

“I didn’t mean to be late,” Steve says nonsensically.

“What the—?”

“I didn’t, Dad, I didn’t. I’m not lying.”

There’s ice in Eddie’s veins. “No, no, no, stop—stay with me Steve,” he says, which is so fucking stupid, what, did he think he could solve this through sheer force of will? No matter how many times he begged, Chrissy never woke up.

But then Steve gasps, and it sounds like he did at Lover’s Lake, just before he got dragged back under. “Sorry, sorry. I’m still here.”

“Jesus. We’re—we’re here.” “We’re…? Right, yeah.” A deep breath. “Okay. New plan. My place first,” Steve says firmly. “We'll drop the kids off.” There's an unshakable resolve in his voice.

Eddie takes the next turning, doesn’t even enjoy the double take that Steve does at that, the fact that Eddie already knows his address. When he glances over, he sees beads of sweat on Steve’s face. Eddie speeds up.

Please, please. Just hold on.

[barcaatthemoon]

just a kid iii || jenni hermoso x teen!reader ||

jenni finally meets your girlfriend, but it doesn't go according to plan.

part i part ii

"chiqui!" alexia flinched at the volume of jenni's voice in the very public place. you jumped up from the table and ran over to jump into the woman's arms. back at the table, alexia shot carmen an apologetic look. your girlfriend had been warned by alexia, olga, and several of your barcelona teammates how you got around jenni. they had failed to mention how much worse it seemed to get after jenni had moved away.

"jenni, i missed you," you told her. jenni smiled as she cupped your cheeks and kissed the top of your head. tucked beneath her arm, you walked with jenni back to the table. "carmen, this is jenni. jenni, this is carmen, my girlfriend."

carmen stood up, standing just a couple of inches taller than jenni. alexia smirked at the look of surprise on jenni's face. she wasn't used to people being taller than her, especially not someone so much younger. it took jenni by surprise, enough so that she didn't mention the very obvious resemblance.

"nice to meet you. i've heard a lot about you," carmen said. she held her hand out for jenni to shake. things seemed to go back to normal once everybody had sat down again. alexia almost wished that jenni had stayed quiet, but she wasn't going to complain when it obviously made you happy to be around the striker again.

carmen seemed to get kind of quiet as jenni took over your attention. alexia tried to engage your girlfriend in conversation a bit more, but it didn't seem to work very well. as much as carmen looked like jenni, she acted just as much like alexia did. according to most of your older teammates, carmen would grow out of being so awkward around people eventually, you just had to be patient.

"hey, i think that i might head home soon. it's getting kind of late," carmen told you. for the first time in what felt like forever to carmen, she had your attention. however, it didn't feel as good as she had hoped it would. you looked hurt, a pout on your face as you prepared to ask her if everything was okay. "have fun, okay?"

"you're leaving now?" you asked. carmen nodded as she stood up from the table. she got money out to pay for her part of the meal, despite alexia's protests that she had it covered. "you're leaving alone?"

"yeah, i'm going to the gym early tomorrow. have a good night." carmen leaned for a moment, and you foolishly thought she was going to give you a kiss. instead, she offered handshakes to alexia, olga, and jenni.

"bye, i love you," you muttered quietly. it really wasn't loud enough for carmen to properly hear, but you were still hurt when she didn't say anything to you. alexia noticed your shift in mood and turned to olga for help, her girlfriend being a better choice of comfort for you.

"do you want to come stay with me for a while?" jenni offered. you shrugged, having hoped to stay with carmen at her new place. it had taken you nearly two weeks to get alexia to agree on letting you spend the night over there, and the one night you get permission, carmen left hastily without you.

…

"am i boring you, chiquita?" jenni asked as she nudged you with her elbow. the two of you had spent the day catching up with each other, but you couldn't tear yourself away from your phone for more than a few minutes. you were going crazy waiting for the good morning text from carmen that didn't seem to be coming. you knew that she was awake, you had seen the posts on her story from the gym.

"no, sorry. it's just that carmen usually checks in with me by now," you told her. jenni frowned as she understood what you were going through. "i'm scared that she's mad at me, but i don't know what i did."

"they say that she looks like me, but that girl is all ale. trust me, it takes time to realize what little things set her off. maybe you should go see her. talk to her, make sure that she knows you love her," jenni suggested. you were nervous about showing up to her place unannounced, but you couldn't just sit back and wait for her to text you anymore.

"who says that you and carmen look alike?" you asked. none of the team had brought this up with you yet, so you were a tad bit confused.

"alexia, olga, eli, pina, jana, mapi, ingrid, and um, everybody else who has met both of us." jenni's tone may have been a bit sarcastic, but she wasn't joking. you scoffed, not believing that at all. sure, carmen was tall with dark hair and a few tattoos, but that was about it. you hadn't put that much thought into her similarities to jenni at all whenever the two of you had started dating. you were just glad that the hot girl in the gym was giving you the time of day.

"whatever," you huffed. jenni teased you a little more as she took you to carmen's apartment. you made jenni drive off, promising to call alexia if things went badly. a part of you was terrified that carmen wouldn't want anything to do with you. if what jenni said was true about everybody believing that they looked alike, you realized that you had probably made carmen jealous. and so, you very nervously made your way up to carmen's apartment.

"(y/n)?" of all the people carmen expected to see as she came out of the stairwell, you were the last one. "what are you doing here?"

"i had to come check on you. it's been three days, and you haven't answered any of my texts or calls. i've been out of my mind worrying about you," you told her. carmen rubbed the back of her neck as she shifted from one foot to the other. she could easily see the evidence of what she put you through as you played with your fingers.

"i, uh, i'm sorry too. it was stupid, but seeing you and jenni interacting, i got kind of jealous. do you want to come with me to dinner?" carmen asked you. you nodded, happily taking her hand as she led you out of her building. you were finally able to enjoy your night as the weight of your worrying was lifted from your shoulders. that night, as you let yourself get comfortable in carmen's bed, you made sure to send both jenni and alexia texts that everything had been sorted out with carmen.