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liveontelevision · 3 days

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Suffer Pt. 5 | Lucifer x Reader

Hoof this one was a doozy. I struggled with it a little, there's a lot going on so :') Apologies in advance if there's any confusion. BUT EITHER WAY, it's here! 🎉

[ Make sure to read Parts 1-4 before this guy :) ]

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 4

No CW! Just angst and plot!

♡♡♡

Things didn't feel out of place at first. Sure, Alastor's little stunt definitely left you shaken, but afterward it seemed that everything returned to normal. While the hotel was refurbished and had made a name for itself, it was still a struggle to get any more residents in. So things eventually went back to how they were. The only difference was Lucifer deciding to stay in the hotel, but even that.. seemed unimportant? Was that the word?

It was the strangest thing, any time you'd step outside and see the sparkling, apple ornamented tower, you'd mentally remind yourself to go say hi. Or those occasions where you'd pass Lucifer in the hallway, you'd say something about catching up or even trying to see eachother again.

Just call me!

You never got any calls, though. Any texts you sent weren't replied to. And for some strange reason, you'd rarely see Lucifer. You never really considered how much work he'd have to do, but it must be a lot for him to not even answer your calls. Or maybe he was avoiding you? You hoped that wasn't the case. You did your best to not think about it, or else you'd spiral into everything that you might've done wrong. That being said, in these brief passages, he still seemed so kind to you. Maybe you were overthinking things..

When he was comfortable enough, he would come down to the lobby and become the life of the party. He'd join everyone for drinks, crack ridiculous jokes, and generally just show off to appease his audience. You noticed he was never really looking at you, on these nights. And when you'd say something to him, respond to some joke he made, he'd look your way but wouldn't respond or he'd outright ignore you. And for everyone else, it seemed to go completely noticed. No one thought it strange for Lucifer to completely overlook you.

Your romantic dalliances weren't spoken of, but it was clear that you two were essentially inseparable at some point. Before the hotel reopened. It hurt. You tried so hard to convince yourself it was just him being busy, but fuck it still hurt.

Maybe I should confront him.

You thought about that ages ago, and no matter how easy that sounds, he really was nowhere to be found. Even at the dead of night when everyone's asleep and your nightmares, which have come back in full force, are keeping you awake; You'd go to him, but even his bedroom seemed vacant.

Thank god you weren't alone. You had your truest friend, Alastor, ready to comfort you whenever you needed it. He suggested you start listening to his nighttime broadcasts again, and as usual, he was right. It became a comforting sensation when your bed was feeling empty. He knew that Lucifer would hurt you again and he warned you multiple times. You should've just listened.

"Fuck, I'm sorry Al, I just.. I feel so stupid. I should've listened to you in the first place. I don't know what I did wrong, I thought I - that maybe we were.." After an especially long night, your willpower to hold back any tears had been exhausted. A puffy-eyed, sniffling, mess, Alastor lets you lean into his side as he embraces your entirety quite easily with his lengthy limbs. You both sat at the edge of your bed, him brushing hair from your face and occasionally cooing you and hushing you.

"No need to apologize, darling, I'm only worried for your wellbeing. But it was probably for the best, I'm glad it came to an end before it got too serious, hm?" As he went on, it only left you bursting into tears again. Things had become serious. If only he knew.. maybe he should know. You can trust him, it's just Alastor after all. You were so restless and drunk, you were desperate for comfort. You told him everything.

"Well! Isn't that..! Something.. " He clears his throat once he sees your expectant, tearful eyes. "Oh, my poor thing. You've been through it all, haven't you?" He pulled you even closer as he spoke, you shifted to your side and leaned into his chest. He fully comforted you in an embrace that was very needed.

"I just don't understand-" He shushes you before you can go on.

"Don't you worry. I'll be here for you, right to the end." You were too exhausted to question his phrase, suddenly feeling the weight of your eyelids pulling your eyes closed.

"Stay- please.. stay..." Your voice was hardly a whisper, as you gripped onto his coat that was already stained with your tears. He nodded, and before you knew it, you were curled up in his arms. Your head resting against his chest felt softer than your own pillows at that moment. He draped your beloved sweater over your shoulders as you muffled more depressing thoughts into his chest. He began to hum some song, one you recognized from the radio. The tone was low and comfortable, the vibrations from his chest, forced a shaky yet relaxed sigh from your lips. He continued to comb through your hair, and maybe if you were sober and alert, you could recognize the sensation of a subtle kiss on the top of your head.

The next morning, Lucifer finds himself sitting at his fancy new desk, a small amenity in the upgrade of a workshop he had received. He moved to the hotel for one reason only; to be closer to Charlie, and help her no matter what's in store. And maybe, another perk is being closer to you.. That’s just a plus, though. Focus on your priorities, Lucifer.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he tossed whatever papers he was holding to the side and leaned back in his chair. Resting his eyes on the ceiling with his head tilted back, the quiet of the room seemed to help clear his mind. For a minute. Then, all he could think of was your sweet voice, scolding him for leaving any marks on you during your little "meet-ups". He would do it on purpose, just to see you flustered. With a nervous hand around his neck, he feels himself gulp at the thought. He had gone centuries without being touched like that and seemed content. But remembering the feeling of your hands running across his chest.. How could just the thought work him up?

"Maybe, I should.. ugh, no! Who am I kidding?” With a flustered curse, he kicked his chair out and began to circle his room.

"Maybe I should go talk to her! Yeah! But.. she's not answering your calls.. so, maybe.. she wants to talk in person..? That's it! Or.. no... Maybe I should wait.. I shouldn't wake her up so early in the morning.. or should I even be going to her? What if she needs space? What if I don't give her that and then I-I ruin it? Again??" He continues this panicked conversation with himself for a while, battling the decision to just go and profess an undying love that even he might be overthinking.

Fuck it.

He fills his lungs with air before walking straight up to your door, fist ready in the air to knock. Sure it was early, he knew you liked to sleep in a little longer than this. It even made him question again whether or not he should just wait for -

The door swings open, with Lucifer's fist still in the air.

Of course. Of, fucking, course.

"Ahh! Another visit from Our Majesty! I'm afraid she's rather exhausted after all the drinks- and crying- from our previous night together, so I would suggest you go elsewhere." Alastor stood in the door frame, blocking the entirety of your room from Lucifer. Even peeking to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of you, Alastor stepped in his way.

"Don't do this, Alastor. I only want to- wh- did you say crying? " He had a whole rant he was about to read off about how inappropriate Alastor was, toying with your feelings somehow, and how he didn't trust him one bit.

"This was good timing, actually! I'm assuming this belongs to you? I found it in the parlor room a while ago. Since it was the same night as your little.. visit.. with our friend- I assumed that it was your doing." Alastor interrupts any other thoughts that Lucifer might have and raises a.. corset. With silky ribbons for laces.

"It's certainly not your style, but to each their own, I suppose!" The belt hangs off one of his fingers as he speaks, swinging it back and forth playfully. Lucifer reaches forward and takes it with both hands, squeezing and turning it in a tight grip.

"I don't know what twisted game you're playing, you slimy prick." Lucifer hovers off his feet, his wings flapping out and keeping him at a height tall enough for him to pull Alastor up by his collar. They share an intimidating set of snarling, pointed teeth at each other. "But if you're doing anything to hurt her, I swear -"

Alastor holds up a finger to his mouth and shushes him. Did he really just shush the king of hell? Before Lucifer had a chance to raise a flaming fist at Alastor's infuriating smile, a muffled groan came from inside your room. With a blink, his previously reddened glowing eyes returned to their usual hue. He made no effort to comfortably drop Alastor, forcing him to land on the ground with a thud.

His other demonic features disappeared as he reached for the entrance of your room, already seeing you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. But something stopped him. Something ominous. Something.. forbidding. It felt like a barrier that weighed heavy on him just by looking in your general direction.

Lucifer stumbled backward at the overwhelming sensation. Catching his breath, he blinked his eyes to their inverted ruby hue, again. He didn't use this often, but on occasion, there were some evils in the world that even he couldn't comprehend without thorough examination. He stood in awe at what he saw. Your room was fumed with some glowing green haze, it was impossible to see anything inside. And good lord, it smelled awful. Covering his mouth and nose, he looked over at Alastor, who was still recovering from being thrown to the ground.

"What did you do..?" His voice was layered with growls, an inhuman filter that forced flames from his lips as he spoke. Alastor's only response was a casual chuckle, he stood and brushed his coat off.

"It's simply a precaution. Just taking care of my dear friend."

"Aaal- shut the door it's too bright..!" You called out, pulling the sweater over your head with a groan.

"Speaking of - it’s best you keep your distance, your highness. I'd hope you have her best interest in mind." You shout Alastor's name one more time, the sound of your voice making Lucifer's heart drop. Even when it was some bastard's name, he missed hearing your voice.

"Coming! My love-" With a final sinister grin, Alastor carefully shuts himself inside your room. Doing who knows what. Twisting and turning the returned corset in his hands, he let his head droop to examine the accessory. He recalled how it looked on you, in that pretty little dress, how it hugged your curves. Then the actions that led to you removing it.

With a flustered groan, Lucifer finally gave up. He returned to his quarters without another word. He would've torn Alastor to shreds right then. But so many things told him not to. He was helping Charlie, and he had no idea how he would explain to his daughter why he was torn piece by piece and fed to some sinners in Cannibal Town; a plan he considered in the heat of the moment. He hated to remind himself of another factor; he was close to you, as well. That made things much worse.

"What was all that noise?" You grumbled, sitting up and clawing at your aching head. Letting out a pathetic groan, you fall back against your bed and lift the sweater to cover your still-straining eyes. Pulling the collar to your nose, you took in another intoxicating breath.

"Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, dear. Are you feeling well enough to finally attend that 'lunch date' you've been avoiding?" You sigh in response to his question, shrugging your shoulders.

"Yeah, I haven't seen Rosie in a while. That could be nice.. and shut up, I haven't been avoiding it.. just been busy.." your voice was muffled by the knit over your nose. With a sweet sigh, Alastor hovers over you, lightly tugging your face free.

"I'm so sure. I'll come find you once you're ready." He said it so gently, fiddling with your hair and staring deeply into your eyes. He reveled in the sight of you turning red by his words. You nod your head, watching him fade into the inky shadows in the corner of your room.

You finally started to wake up, yawning, stretching, doing anything to ease your tired mind. You looked through your phone again, still no new messages. That didn't seem to bug you as much as it would've a few days prior. You focused on the fun activities you had planned for the day. Rosie never failed to cheer you up.

You just had to keep going. You couldn't let some silly fling stop you from enjoying your eternal damnation. Or from trying to be redeemed. Alastor's voice was constantly in your head. Any doubts you’d have, you'd recall his words: It was probably for the best.

You did your best to move on, but what especially helped you through these trying times? Drinks. You were drinking almost every night at this point. It would be a real problem if you were actually able to die. It wasn't so bad when you had some of the other demons join you, it was easier to keep your mind off of.. certain things when you would hear Angel talking about how shitty his day was and going into painful detail, or when Charlie was going on about some passion project. She somehow manages to talk more after a few drinks.. you didn't realize that was possible. But you still loved her either way. You owed her so much, after everything you've put her through. That's what you were thinking when you weren't drinking at least. All those thoughts went away after a few shots.

A golden drink slid into your hand with a sudden stop, causing some of its contents to spill over your fingers. With a quiet curse, you run your tongue across your knuckles. Clearly not noticing the pair of eyes that have been on you the whole night, you down yet another round of drinks from Husk. It was you, Charlie, and Vaggie just having a little nightcap after you had gone out with Alastor to see Rosie. It was a nice little catch-up, even if it consisted of Charlie droning on about something you didn't have the strength to listen to.

Oh, and not that you would have noticed, but Lucifer sat across the bar from you. He couldn't keep his damn eyes off of you. For some reason, that strange barrier was weaker and he’s finally getting the chance to see you, really see you, for the first time in weeks.

You rest your cheek on the counter, listening to Charlie get into a passionate rant about something that would help the hotel. Every now and then, Lucifer would have to break his eye line from you to nod and smile at whatever Charlie could be going on about. He could care less right now.

"Dad. Dad!" A sudden shaking of his shoulder forced his attention to Charlie. An immediate guilt washed over him, as he clasped his hands together in front of him.

"Were you even listening..? Doesn't matter.. I guess.. but, Alastor’s gonna join us, so can you.. play nice? Pleease? I'd love for you guys to get along.." She whispered in his direction, her questioning finally bringing his attention to a casually seated radio demon who appeared at the barstool just next to yours. He looked back to Charlie, with an agitated expression.

"I-I don't know, sweetie, maybe I should just head back-" Ready to drop everything, he watched Alastor run a hand down your back, you let out a little groan in response. You sat up, stretching your arms upward then turning to Alastor.

You smile exhaustedly, greeting him with a quiet hum. You then attempted to beckon another drink from Husk. As the bartender slid it your direction, a hand came up and quickly stopped the glass before it could reach you. Alastor held the drink upward, just out of your grasp.

"I'm sure you're having fun, dear, but I believe it's about time you head to bed." Alastor says. He lifts the drink farther away from you, watching you lean forward in a sad attempt to take it back. With a sigh of defeat, you nod, taking hold of his now extended arm to stumble off the barstool without falling flat on your face.

"No, wait!" Lucifer practically shouts, he pushes himself away from the bar, ready to sweep you off your feet. To save you. That dreaded smog had reappeared with Alastor's presence. But assessing the newfound silence in the room, everyone turning to him for some kind of explanation of his actions, he caught Charlie's eyes. They were confused and worried. He quickly clears his throat, straightening his posture.

"Alastor, buddy! You just got here, why don't you stick around and chat or talk about your feelings or something? I can take her to bed no problem!" He says smoothly, nudging Charlie with his elbow at the mention of talking about feelings. That seemed to work. She agreed, clarifying that as long as you got to bed safe then, she'd love to have Alastor stay and chat.

"Ahahah, I do believe she'd be more comfortable with me taking her away. We've become rather close, truly a relationship I cherish!" That also seemed to work. Charlie was a sucker for the idea of Alastor developing any sort of positive relationship.

"Are you sure about that, pal? Maybe she just needs -" Lucifer is determined, he speaks with clenched teeth, struggling to ever consider him a “pal”.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, I doubt she'd want your help. After everything you've done to her." He hissed out his words, willing to say anything to get a rise out of Lucifer. Oh, and that definitely did it. How much could he possibly know? Lucifer had no problem with you confiding in a friend about.. everything.. But him? And for him to have the audacity to mention anything in front of Charlie? Lucifer was ready to put him six more feet under the ground.

"Dad..? Is- uhh.. everything okay? What's Alastor talking about?" Charlie was quiet, almost nervous to ask any questions. Luckily, before she could worry about that, she got distracted by something else. A little tune you were singing. It wasn't a hum like it's been all these years. You slurred out a recognizable song, as Alastor continued to take you up the stairs. A tune that immediately made Charlie go quiet.

"I-I know.. I know that song...Holy shit, Vaggie!" Charlie frantically grabs her partner’s arms and shakes her vigorously, a pent-up excitement forcing a smile from her.

"Ah, it was so long ago, but - she.. kind of raised me, didn't she?" Charlie forgot who she was with for a moment, quickly swiveling her chair to face Lucifer.

"Dad! What was her job? At home, I mean- I can't believe I've never asked that.. what did she do?" Lucifer caved to her questions, Charlie's pure adrenaline shocking him.

"W-Well, I uh.. she was.. " He finally let out a sigh. "You're right, she did raise you. I mean.. for a few years, at least. Then- uhm! That's it! Then she left for some reason." This was no place for big confessions. Everyone had something to drink, and you weren't even sober enough to stand on your own two feet. We'll get to it later.

Alastor was near your room, still treating you with as much tender love and care as usual. You continued your familiar tune, giggling and hiccuping as you struggled to walk. He eventually swept you off your feet, causing your flushed face to turn even redder. Finally entering the safety of your room, you were carefully tossed into your bed. Sweet Alastor took the time to conjure up your coat from wherever you had left it, draping it over your shoulders yet again. You held onto it, gripping the sleeves and smoothing the plush material through your fingers, then smiled at Alastor.

“Come here, please.” You said softly, moving over to have him sit at the side of your bed. He did so without a complaint, propping himself up with his hand against your blankets and leaning towards you with his usual smile. “You're always so sweet to me, Al.” You slur your words, placing your hand overtop of his and leaning in with a content hum.

“Anything for you, love. I've enjoyed your company just as much.” His voice didn't hold its usual static filter, allowing you to appreciate his natural tone. You've never heard it before. The idea of him trusting you with this side of him caused an ache in your stomach. You sat up, the sweater hanging loosely off your shoulders as you climbed towards him with a glazed-over look in your eyes.

Alastor had a suspicion that you felt some sort of romantic attraction to him. Even with his charm and wits, he wasn't prepared to feel your lips meeting his. He could taste the drinks you had been downing all night and made the slightest effort to lean away from you. It went unnoticed, as you hummed into the kiss, moving even closer to him to cup his cheeks and keep his attention on you.

You were aching for this sort of attention. And unfortunately, your strength to suppress this underlying feeling for him just wasn't there at that moment. He reached forward, brushing your hair away from your neck and placing his hand on your shoulder. He couldn't let this go on. For several reasons. He shifted his hand from your shoulder to pull your sweater back up, then gently pushed you away.

“I-I’m sorry..” You were hot to the touch, your heated skin becoming worse just from sheer embarrassment. You leaned back, quickly wiping some tears that had welled in the moment.

“It’s.. alright, dear. No need to be embarrassed. I simply haven’t felt.. that way, in quite a long-” A loud crackle interrupted the awkward moment, coming from the radio on your nightstand, and just quietly from his own lips. The sound had you reeling away, your hands pressed against your ears in shock. His own ears shot back, a twitch in his eye showing his own pained reaction.

“A-Alastor? Are you okay? Did I do something?” You stammered out your concerns, seeing a line of his blackened blood drip from the corner of his mouth. He wiped it free before examining it on his thumb and letting out a scoff. He sighed, keeping his eyes off of you as he left your bed.

“Al, you're bleeding..! Maybe you should lay down, or.. or, I-I don't know-” You scrambled off your bed to follow him, taking a hold of the back of his coat to keep him from leaving. He spun on his heels, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I'll be just fine. If you want my honesty, I seem to have made a minor error is all.” His voice was laced with static again, he ran his hand up your shoulder to your neck, then delicately kept your head lifted towards him by your jaw.

“W-What do you mean? Will you be okay?” You asked nervously. He seemed to be examining you, his eyes scanning over your entirety.

“I'll be fine. How are you feeling, love?” He sounded nervous, a shock to you.

Alastor did in fact make a mistake. In his attempt to rile Lucifer up just moments ago, he indirectly disclosed some information about your past. Charlie now knew what you were.

The deal was that Charlie wouldn't find out about your previous job and Alastor would do anything in his power to keep that from happening. In exchange, you owed him a favor. He doomed himself, really. The mention of your history with Lucifer and coaxing the lullaby from your drunken rambles, made Charlie connect the dots. With a poorly made deal, no written contacts, or souls on the line, some loopholes can cause the whole thing to fall through. But, Alastor's never had issues before, he's incredibly careful, even with the smallest exchanges.

The idea of him losing any composure and having it cost him, forced labored breaths from him. Now that Charlie knows, your owed favor is no longer valid. Your favor of staying away from the king. But now, that sickening barrier that had been surrounding you all this time was broken.

You didn't realize what it was, but you did feel that something was off. Like a headache that's been ignored for too long suddenly hitting you. You groan, running a hand through your hair and slipping away from Alastor's grasp. And you're not the only one who felt the deal break at that moment.

Lucifer could feel the environment in the hotel change. It was like a cool, refreshing breeze hit his face, finally clearing out a pesky scent that had been lingering since the hotel was refurbished. He assumed it was just due to the new renovations.. But after connecting this newfound clarity to the musk that's surrounded Alastor - surrounded you - since the extermination day battle, he was anxious to find you. He quietly muttered your name under his breath with wide eyes. Finally slipping from his seat, he rushed to your room immediately.

“Dad!” Charlie was one step ahead, standing up and blocking Lucifer who wasn't even trying to conceal his eager pursuit. He shrunk in front of her, finally realizing his wings had sprouted from his back and had swept a few bottles off the shelves. “What's going on? You've been acting strange ever since you moved in, and I'm-” Charlie was nervously fiddling with her hands, looking over to Vaggie for a reassuring smile. “-I'm worried. About you. And.. our guest..?” His eyes widened, fear running through his veins.

Charlie was smart. She may have the princess bleeding-heart thing going for her, but seeing you and him get along so well always made her the slightest bit uneasy in the back of her mind. After you started drinking more, going out on the town with Alastor again, and generally seeing Lucifer less, she realized something had happened. And this strange behavior from him wasn't helping your case.

“Charlie, don't worry! We’re friends! And I'm worried about her because of all the drinking and the.. uhh.. Anyway, no need to worry about that! I bet she’s fine now..! But I better head to bed, long night, just uh- really tired, yeeah.” He stammered through his words, throwing in a fake yawn, then leaping with the assistance of his wings to pat the crown of Charlie's head. He started off again, making sure to take his time and not cause another scene.

“Dad, wait!” With a frustrated groan, Charlie is left clutching her face in his hands. With a deep breath, she smooths her hair back and puts on a wry smile to face Vaggie. “I think he loves her, Vaggie.”

Spreading his wings as soon as he's out of view, he rushes to your room. It was so much easier to sense where you are now. How could he not notice? It felt like hundreds of memories were flooding back into his mind. Memories of passing you in the hallway while he ignored you, writing texts but never sending them, hearing you talk to him but never responding. He went from constantly longing for your presence, to just.. nothing. But now, it's all back. All the pining had finally erupted And he needed you- to see you- immediately.

“I'm sure you just drank a bit too much tonight, go on and rest and I'll be sure to-” Alastor couldn't even finish his sentence before your door was sprung open. You were sure the force broke your lock with its intensity.

Alastor panicked. You've never seen him panic before. He attempted to fade into his slimy shadows and slip through the darkest corner of the room, but Lucifer quickly put a stop to it, stomping his heel into the black trail before it could disappear. An ear-piercing screech came from all corners of the room. You gasped at the sight, watching Alastor materialize back to his usual self. He laid on your floor, clutching onto the almost forgotten wound on his chest that had been stressed by Lucifer's heel.

“Al!” You stumble off the bed and onto your knees, hovering your hands over him but not quite touching him, like you were nervous he’d break. You watched blood pool and stain his shirt as he hisses at the reopened slash. “Hey, hey, it's okay..! It's um- you'll be okay..!” Your shaky reassurance did little to ease his pain. If anything, he felt ridiculed. Another embarrassing defeat. You helped him at least sit up and lean his back against your dresser.

“Lucifer, what the fuck! what are you even doing in here?” You scolded, still seated at Alastor's side. You looked up at his demonic figure, your anger suddenly replaced with a suppressed and unwanted attraction. You shake your head of any longing thoughts. “He's hurt. You have to help him.” You say, finally breaking your strained eye contact.

Lucifer is cringing at the sight. You were seated close to Alastor's injured form, an arm around his back and a hand resting on his own, helping to compress the wound. You were wearing his sweater, your eyes brimming with tears at the sudden intrusion. Lucifer hated the way you were looking at Alastor, with concern and genuine worry. Lucifer looked into his hands as if he had blood on them. And if you weren't there, that certainly would've been the case.

With a deep breath, his horns, halo, wings, and tail all subdued, leaving a very disheveled Lucifer avoiding eye contact out of shame. He kneeled down, still slightly disgusted by the smell that lingered around the radio demon. Moving Alastor’s coat aside, he presses his clawed hands against the blood stain. He admittedly put more pressure than he needed to, but if he could cause him even the slightest discomfort right now, that would keep his bloodlust at bay. A golden light glistened from beneath his hand, forcing a hiss from Alastor's forced smile.

“Jeez, this wound is from an angelic attack.. a strong one too. What have you been up to, Bambi?” Lucifer tried his hardest to keep a light tone, but despite his casual words, his unenthused frown was very apparent.

“It was Adam. before you came to the battle, Al got hurt. Bad. I.. we all thought he was dead.” You explained softly. You seemed much more put together than before, the fear from this whole ordeal clearly sobered you up. Your lip quivered and you held in a shaky breath, that was only released when you felt Alastor hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Was he doing this just to piss Lucifer off? Because it was working. Lucifer did his best to focus on his healing. It took a while to even stop the bleeding, but maybe he was doing that on purpose as well. Admittedly, he could have healed him with a snap of his fingers, even cleared that nasty scar, but he didn't. Alastor didn't deserve that in Lucifer's mind.

After just a few minutes, you were helping Alastor to sit up, and then eventually to his feet.

“Do you need to lay down? You can stay here tonight, I'll find somewhere else to sleep- or I can help you to your room if you need it..” you were shushed by his hand waving any assistance away.

“I'll be alright, love, no need to worry. I am a bit tired, though.. I wouldn't mind resting here for-” A whirring sound interrupts Alastor's words and draws both of your attention to a portal that leads into his room.

“..Right. Very helpful.” Alastor muttered, still using you as a brace as he approached the portal. He didn't need the help, he felt fantastic, actually. But he’s still having his fun, enjoying the pure jealousy coming from Lucifer. He lifts your hand and presses his usual subtle kiss onto your knuckles.

“You sure you'll be okay?” You ask softly, helping him step over the boundaries of the portal. He hums, then gives a quick nod. “And?” You add. He looks at you confused, before noticing your subtle nudging towards Lucifer. Alastor lets out a quiet groan and rolls his eyes.

“I suppose I owe you a thanks, your highness. Just watch your step in the future.” Alastor says smugly. Having seen more than enough of him tonight, Lucifer shuts the portal without another word.

The room is silent, but the air is clear. Lucifer breathes in, only catching the faintest musk of the sweater you were wrapping yourself in. It was still a relief. Reality hits him and he finally rushes towards you, his hands placed on your shoulders with a worried expression.

“Are you okay? Good golly, I missed you.. did he do anything to hurt you? How do you feel?” He questioned you frantically, scanning your entire body with his darting eyes, but you reeled away from his touch.

“What do you mean miss? We live under the same roof. You could have talked to me at any time if you just-” You let out a sigh, relieving some of the agitation in your tone.

“Thanks for helping Al.. And I guess I missed you, too. Wherever you’ve been.” You muster a smile that's more genuine than you were expecting. You didn't have the same ability to sense the deal or the repellent that Alastor had drenched you in all these months. So to you, Lucifer had gone from your closest friend to ignoring you, then suddenly attacking the only other demon who was comforting you. It was all so confusing. And he was about to make it worse.

With a quick motion, Lucifer had you pulled into an embrace. It was tight and comfortable. You could feel his hands flexing and tightening on your back and waist, his breath just grazing the base of your neck. You didn't pull away. Not yet. You would never admit how good this felt, how much you missed his arms around you. Lucifer shifted his position to cradle the back of your head, hastily and thoughtlessly pressing a kiss to your lips. With a surprised yelp, you shove him backward.

“No! This is too much! You can’t just waltz in here and save the day, and expect things to go back to how they were! If this was all just a fling, finishing off the mistake we made years ago, then you should've made that clear from the beginning!” Your voice started cracking with each statement, tears falling as you spoke. “You've done enough, Lucifer. Don't make this harder for me.” You look away, still avoiding his touch when he goes to swipe your tear-stained cheek.

“No! That's not what's happening at all! That prick did something to you, I'm just trying to-” He stops himself midsentence, seeing the startled look on your face from the sudden outburst. He steps away, clutching his hands in front of him. “I'm sorry, I-”

“No. You have to go, now. Before I change my mind.” You interrupt. He looks at you, slightly red in the face. With a final nod, he snaps a portal to his workshop and leaves your room silently. Falling to your knees, finally alone, your body only responded with quiet sobs. Too much had gone on for you to process the entire evening and you were in pain even attempting to do so. Before curling up in your bed, your radio was turned back on. Playing its usual tunes, you were at least calmed enough to drift to sleep.

Looking vacantly at his office, Lucifer sat down at his desk. He brushed his fingers against his lips, the inappropriately timed kiss from earlier suddenly hitting his consciousness. He let out an embarrassed groan into his hands. As he composed himself with a sigh, he noticed something strange. Smacking his lips together he finally recognized a foul taste in his mouth. It was his doing, Alastor’s scent, coming from your lips. The indirect sensation made it clear that Alastor had his hands on you in more ways than Lucifer had considered.

Another restless night went by, filled with its usual nightmares. You were woken up with your usual hangover and struggled to get ready for the day. As you dressed up, and went through your usual routine to prepare for the day, your memories of the previous night flooded your mind. You got drunk, then Alastor took you to your room, you kissed him, then Lucifer came and-

You kissed Alastor.

“Fuck!” You shouted to yourself, letting your head fall onto your vanity at the realization. You have got to stop doing that. The rest of the night came through afterward, Lucifer's sudden appearance and affection causing you even more distress. You swear, one more nuisance and you'll have a breakdown. A knock on your door, followed by it opening a crack, and forcing you to greet your intruder.

“Hey! Morning! Your lock is busted for some reason, buuut we can fix it, don't worry!” a cheerful Charlie enters your room, smiling nervously at you. You muster up your best smile and turn towards her.

“Morning, Charlie. What's got you all worked up today?” You ask casually, running your fingers through your hair, too lazy to thoroughly brush it. You could tell she was nervous, it was obvious to you.

“Well! About that.. I actually wanted to talk to you about.. my dad.” She spoke softly, you did your best to hide your sudden nerves, and nodded. “Right! Well- I can't believe I never realized or even asked where you used to work, but.. I remember you. When I was kid? I remember you were there with me, taking care of me-” She began to explain quickly and nervously, pacing your room. Your mind was racing with a relief that she finally knew, but also a fear of what was coming next. “I don't know, I was so young and it was so long ago, but I felt like we had fun, right? What.. What made you leave..? Did I do something wrong?”

It was so much more complicated than that. How do you explain to her what you've done? The very act that cost you a dream job, that haunts you with nightmares almost every night? She could see your mind swimming for answers, she watched you struggle for longer than she needed to.

“Was it my dad? Did he do something?” She sounded so serious. But clearly she was on the right path with your wide eyed reaction. “I'm so sorry if he did anything to upset you, you know how he can be… What did he-”

“Charlie, no.. You’re right, we all had so much fun together, and.. he was my best friend! And I-I made a mistake and I kissed him, and.. and Lillith saw and-” you finally let the floodgates down, making sure to leave out any reciprocated feelings that Lucifer may have had for you. That was his discussion to have. Charlie was silent. Even though you didn't tell her that things were mutual at some point, things started piecing together. She could tell you two had rekindled some sort of feelings for each other recently. “It's all my fault, Charlie, I never meant to hurt anyone. I loved him. It was a mistake..”

A sudden hand on your shoulder forced your eyes to meet hers. She was smiling. whether that meant she understood you or forgave you, it was one of your favorite sights. It always has been.

Lucifer paced around his workshop, figuring out how to keep that deer demon away from you, while also avoiding the conjured images of his lips against yours. Before he could react, he noticed the floor underneath him disappear. Falling directly into a suddenly conjured portal, he looked around, before realizing he was suddenly in the lobby. He was greeted by you and Charlie seated on the couch, a confrontation he’s been afraid of for years.

“Hi, dad..! I hope you weren’t doing anything important, I just needed to.. Talk to you..” With a snap of her fingers, the portal above his head vanished. She takes Lucifer by the shoulders and plops him down next to you on the couch. Can't have him running off again.

She’s struggling to get past her initial greeting. You take hold of her fidgeting hand and she seems startled at first, but your smile seems to calm her nerves for the moment. With a large inhale, everything that had been troubling Charlie finally erupted.

“I know you two have.. Some kind of history- Well, actually, I know exactly what kind of history- I know that you kissed her when she was my nanny and then she came to the hotel and didn’t tell me who she was! Still not super happy about that-” She interrupts her rambling to point out your mistakes, making you wince. “-Then! All of a sudden you two are friends? Again? Or.. something more, I guess! Then I noticed you haven’t been wearing your ring, you’re hauled up in your workshop all day, and whenever she’s around, you can’t keep your eyes off of her! And.. and that you’re more focused on her than this hotel! Than me!” The silence that followed her words were filled with nothing but her shaky breathing.

You and Lucifer were too stunned to speak. You took the time to examine Lucifer’s shriveling body language, seeing that he had in fact taken his wedding band off at some point. Charlie practiced this whole speech with you, but she seemed to run off the rails near the end there. Her words were harsh, but.. true. A relaxed sigh finally brings your attention back to Charlie.

“Dad, I know things weren’t great between you and Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore.. And… all I want is for you to be happy, but-” Lucifer has her wrapped in a tight hug before she can continue on.

“Charlie.. I am.. So sorry.” He waited for her to wrap her own arms around him, needing the comfort as much as she did. “You’re right. I haven’t had my priorities straight. I told you that i’ll support your dream, no matter what lies in store and I meant that.” He pulled her away, but only to wipe the absurd amount of tears that had fallen from her eyes. “I’m sorry things got so out of control. Think you can forgive me, sweetheart?” Charlie sniffled, with a small nod. They both turn to face you.

"Can you forgive me?" He asked. His eyes were so soft, still glistening with a few tears that had welled during his confrontation with his daughter. You couldn't help but get lost in them. Finally realizing he was waiting for an answer, you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing wanted to come out.

“I.. I don't know." Before either of the Morningstars could react accordingly, a familiar face interrupts the conversation.

“Now, now, don’t corner her! This is quite the dilemma, isn’t it, dear?” As he stands behind the couch reaching forward, you feel Alastor’s hand on your shoulder, yet he seems to be keeping his eyes on Charlie. “Oh, but how touching! What a great example of forgiveness! Quite commendable, Charlie!” Alastor slowly made his way around the couch as he spoke, trailing his talons across your shoulders before he went on to praise Charlie in this off-putting tone. Lucifer had his arms crossed over his chest. Despite his only annoyed demeanor, he was ready to snap at the slightest misstep.

“But- I don’t know if it’s that simple.. Would you really be able to consider redemption with your ties to the king?” Alastor adds. The three of you went silent, considering the possibility. You became nervous at the thought.

“I mean, m-maybe it doesn’t matter, I’ve still been doing all the exercises and-” Why were you trying to reason with him? Lucifer has done nothing but hurt you. He’s only shown you kindness just recently and even then, he had to confuse you with a damned kiss. Your reasoning didn’t last long, though.

“True! You’ve been making excellent progress, darling! You’ve just been an absolute pleasure to have around the hotel. You’re very.. Important to us here.” Alastor dares to lay another hand on you, bringing your pondering mind to his attention with the lightest tug of your chin to face him.

“Uh.. Thank you, I guess…” You respond, his grasp on your face causing your words to muffle. Lucifer was fuming. As soon as Alastor caught sight of his reaction, he tightened his grip for just a moment, before finally releasing your face.

“But! Your successful redemption could give us what we need to get those pesky angels' attention. Wouldn’t you agree?” He acted out a determined facade, now approaching Charlie and wrapping a hand around her shoulder.

“Sure, but..” Charlie nods along with what he’s saying, laughing nervously at the tension that’s accumulated.

“And you! I thought you, of all people, would know what has to be done to get their attention, your highness.” All eyes shot to Lucifer as soon as Alastor spoke out of turn.

“Watch it.” Lucifer growled under his breath, stepping away from the group.

“Haha.. Let’s just relax! Redemption is about saving souls, remember? The important thing is-” Charlie attempts to chime in, sensing that things are about to go very wrong.

“Do you want Charlie to succeed with her dreams? Or are you assuming she’ll simply give up? Like you did?” Alastor approached Lucifer, bending at his hips to meet his eyes and emphasize the insult he had just made.

“That’s it-” With a quick rolling of his sleeves, Lucifer lunged towards the radio demon, taking him down with ease. It's like he wasn't even trying to dodge the attack.. A crash into the nearest surface left a crack trailing up the wall, his hands rung around Alastor’s neck. Using his usual shadow tricks, he phased from underneath him, silking away. Lucifer quickly rose from the ground, his wings now encasing most of the room, he scanned the room for any sight of the shadowy being.

“What's wrong, your majesty? Worried about your little nanny? Will you miss her once she's redeemed?” His questioning came from all corners of the room, only enraging Lucifer more.

“Shut up!” With a growl, Lucifer surrounded the room in a white light. In that fit of rage, he succeeded in forcing Alastor out of the shadows, but momentarily lost his vision. Blinking and rubbing his eyes, Alastor was fast approaching, his own demonic form growing behind the fallen angel.

You covered your ears at the shouting, only to have your eyes blinded by the light. With all of your senses overwhelmed, and your heart racing, you scramble off the couch to avoid some debris coming your way. All you comprehend is Alastor lifting his arm, ready to essentially slash Lucifer into pieces before the room goes silent. Now only hearing the blood pumping in your ears, you lifted your head up to witness the end of this useless fight.

Charlie had put it all to an end. Her powerful arm had broken through her sleeve, and in its grasp.. something you’ve seen before, out on the streets of Hell. You’ve heard about these sorts of situations, but never witnessed anything like this. A glowing chain was fastened around Alastor’s neck, effectively yanking him away from the fight. The other end was held tightly in Charlie’s demonic fist. The silence was deafening. With Alastor on the ground, essentially leashed by Charlie, you instinctively slid behind Lucifer’s still-powerful appearance. He held his arm out to keep you behind him. Alastor coughed, gripping at the illuminated collar he wore.

“W-Well.. I should’ve known better, I have to admit. Maybe I've lost my touch... But I’m proud of you, Charlie. You’re finally showing some authority around here.” Alastor speaks up. His crumbling voice was weak, his static filter flickering with every other word. But the severity of his tone still sent a shiver down her spine.

“Charlie?” She looked over to her father, more concerned for her than anything. But seeing your face not far behind, seeing your fear, the realization hit her. She let out a weak gasp, her arm returning to normal and the chain fading into nothing but a reminder of a binding contract.

“Charlie.. What did you do?”

♡♡♡

I hope it was worth the wait! ;)

Part 5 is in the works 🙏

!Taglist!

( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest )

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #lucifer hazbin #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fan fiction #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x you

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sunflower-lilac42 · 12 hours

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✧ 𝟏𝟗𝟔 || hughes brothers ♔

summary: after being drafted, y/n feels like she could've done better to prove to everyone she deserved to be in the nhl, specifically her brothers

warnings: feelings of not being good enough, feeling less than someone, feeling excluded, a little sibling tension

publish date: 05/16/24

notes: suprise!! here's a little fic for your late night playoff hockey. i honestly wasn't anticpating finishing a fic tonight but here this is. the end is kind of wonky (as usually) but oh wells. if there's a random 'the' somewhere, i forgot to change where my cursor was. also, the pics are above are the one she has on her nightstand. anyway, i have taglist news. i have started a hughes brothers taglist! but i must emphasize that this is only for fics where she is the sister of the hughes brothers and not everyone luke, quinn, or jack fic i write, so please keep that in mind. anyway, you know what to do, if you have any other ideas you want me to write or if you just want to talk, hit up my inbox. and i will see you lovely flowers later! | add yourself to the taglist ➺ taglist!

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Pick 196. Pick One hundred and ninety-six. A failure, that’s what she was. How did she fall that far down the draft? It didn’t matter what the real reason was, everyone loved to make up their own reasons. The most popular one being that she was a girl. Apparently, the only redeeming quality about her was her last name and the five other people who shared it with her.

She didn’t even know why they were having this party for her. There was nothing to celebrate. Her mom would argue differently, saying she paved the way for women in the NHl but to y/n? What more did it matter if she was drafted 196?

Standing outside in the backyard, a red solo cup filled with peach tea snapple and a few ice cubes clutched in her hand, y/n watched as everyone interacted with everyone else but her. Aunts and Uncles interacted with her brothers, her mom and dad caught up with more extended family members, her own friends off in the corner talking with each other, her brother’s friends were scattered about all drinking some type of alcohol (except for a few of Luke’s friends).

The only words she had gotten from people tonight was, “Congratulations” and “Sorry you got drafted to the Sharks”

While the Sharks weren’t technically the worst team in the league - there were the ducks, the hawks, columbus -, they sure made the list of bottom tier teams. It was just another constant reminder that the team that had basically chosen her as a last resort was a crappy one at that, another reminder that she was in fact labeled as not good enough by everyone and their grandma.

She had to get out of there. Everything was starting to become too suffocating. The outcome of the draft, the plethora of news articles, the thousands of trolls wanting to bring her down, the party that was for her but no one seemed to actually be there for her. She maneuvered through the crowd of people, walking into her house.

The moment she stepped into the living, she felt a brief weight of relief wash over her. However, it wasn’t enough, she needed to be alone (with her thoughts). So, she continued her pursuit up the stairs and down the hallway to her own room. Everyone’s doors were closed and hers was as well. She walked in and flopped down on her bed, sighing in contempt.

The room quickly became her safe space for the night. She had a few snacks leftover scattered from when her friends came over earlier in the week, some unopened water bottles littered about as well. Her bedroom connected to the bathroom so she wouldn’t have to worry about running into someone if she ended up drinking too much water or just had the urge to shower later in the night.

She stared at the picture frame on her nightstand. It was the night of Luke’s draft, everyone was in their jerseys except for her. She was wearing an old white cardigan, a gray shirt underneath it. Her jeans were white as well, a little stain slowly appearing at the top of her knee. She was standing next to Quinn, Luke next to him and Jack at the other end. She was smiling brightly and in hindsight she couldn’t figure out if she stood out because of the white she was wearing or the jersey she wasn’t.

She remembered that night, the night she promised herself and silently promised her family members that she would be just like the three brothers. That she would be drafted in the first round, that she could hold up a 6 or a 9 or even a 2, right alongside them in her own jersey. That night she promised her family that she would not let them down, and now here she is two years later doing exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do.

It must’ve been an hour before she heard voices outside her door, one male and one female. The female one was distinctly her mom’s, she knew that before she could even think about it. The other was harder to decipher, there being four males it could’ve been. But the way he talked and the language he used, it was very obvious that the voice had been Quinn’s.

“Mom please, let me talk to her.”

“Quinn, I know how much you want to help… But I think I should handle this one. No offense, honey, but it’s different for her. Not only is she a girl, but she’s your sister, and Jack’s and Luke’s. She’s always going to be compared to you, just like how everyone compares Luke to you and your brother. It’s worse.”

Quinn teared up a little but quickly blinked them away, “Please.”

She sighed, looking between her eldest child and the door to where her youngest was sitting, “Fine. But come get me as soon as she says she wants me.”

He nods and turns to the door himself, knocking softly on it, “Y/n/n?”

“Go away.”

He gave Ellen a look but she only shrugged and walked away, “You asked for it.”

“Come on, bug.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Nugget. Munchkin. Squirt. I’ve got nicknames for days, bug.”

“Come in.”

Quinn pulled on the handle but realized it was locked, “It’s locked.”

“You want to come in, you figure out a way in here.”

He groaned in annoyance, “Please, y/n/n. Just let me in.”

He heard footsteps and then the lock unlocked and he opened the door. She was sitting up on her bed, the frame on her nightstand was now cracked. He frowned before closing the door and making his way over to the bed, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you upset, bug, it’s not.”

“I feel like a failure.”

“You what?” Quinn’s heart broke at her confession, “Why would you say that?”

She reached over, grabbed the frame, tracing over the cracks, and watched as a tear slid down her face, onto the glass. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and then she finally spoke, “Because I made a promise to myself that day.”

The boy’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, silently telling her to continue, “I promised myself that I would be just as good as you three. That when I was drafted I could hold my number alongside you. That I could prove that I deserved to be here.”

If his heart wasn’t broken before, it sure was now. He quickly took out his phone to text his brothers to come to her room, asap. Pocketing his phone, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him. She leaned her head on his chest as silent tears dampened his shirt.

He simply kissed her head and rubbed a hand up and down her one arm. A few minutes later they both heard the patter of footsteps and she pulled back to look at him, wiping her tears away, “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“It’s just Jack and Luke.”

“Even worse.”

The two younger boys stood in the doorway, “What’s happening?”

Quinn motioned for them to come in and then close the door. The two followed the directions and both sat on the bed beside the others. Jack looked between his older and his youngest sibling, “You were crying.”

She only nodded and Luke frowned at her response. Moments passed of just silence, no one daring to speak. Jack and Luke desperately wanted to know what had caused their sister to be upset but they were too nervous to ask, so they sat there. And then she said, “It’s fine, guys.”

“It’s not, y/n.”

“Okay can someone tell us what happened?”

“Noth-”

“She feels like a failure.”

“She what-” “You what-”

Y/n looked down, playing with her fingers to distract herself as the frame still sat in her lap. Luke’s voice cracked, “Why?”

“Because, I’m not as good as you.”

“Who said that?”

“Only everyone in the hockey world.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act fucking stupid, Luke. All of you. You’re on your phones way too much not to see it. The comments, the articles, everything. ‘Oh she only got drafted because she’s a Hughes’ ‘She’s not good enough’ ‘No wonder the Sharks picked her’ God it doesn’t stop. And all because I’m a girl.” More words spewed out of her mouth and the three sat there, silent, not moving in an inch, scared that if they did it would trigger her more.

When the tears and other emotions caught up to her, she felt like she couldn’t breathe again. She was embarrassed she had let out her true feelings, ones she knew would hurt them. Quinn reached out for her but she shook her head, “I’m- I’m going to go find mom.”

And then she walked away, leaving the boys in her room, speechless.

✧༺✎༻∞

Y/n spent the night with Ellen, crying into her arms as she comforted her, questioning whether or not she even wanted to play in the NHL at all. It all seemed useless to her, what good could she do except make herself look like a fool? Ellen was heartbroken at the words that came out of her daughter's mouth but she knew how she felt. It was common for any woman, no matter which sport or which workplace they were in, they would feel inferior to those around her.

Slipping from the bed, Ellen made her way downstairs to start making breakfast for y/n. When she got down there, she was surprised to see her three sons already in the kitchen, Quinn making pancakes as Jack helped Luke set up a tray they had sitting on the counter. She ran a hand through her hair before walking over to stand next to her eldest, placing a hand on his back, “Hi mom.”

“Hi, what are you guys doing up this early?”

“Making breakfast.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why are you up so early making breakfast?”

Quinn looked between his brothers before looking back at his mom, “For y/n.”

Jack nodded from his place at the table, “We felt bad for last night.”

Ellen frowned briefly before smiling, “You boys did nothing wrong. It’s just that when you’re constantly compared to your siblings, especially when you're always going to be undermined anyway, it gets a lot. She still loves you.”

They all let a small smile grace their lips turning back to what they were doing. It was only a few more minutes before Quinn was setting the last pancake onto the plate alongside some of her other favorite foods.

They somehow managed to make their way upstairs without dropping the tray and knocked on her door. Their mom called up the stairs, “She’s still in my room!”

The three looked at each other in annoyance at having to now carry the tray slightly further down the hallway. Y/n let out a soft ‘come in’ when she heard the knock and sat up, running her hands through her hair in order to get it less messy. She looked confused when she saw her brothers enter with a tray full of food, “What’re you guys doing?”

“We made you breakfast.” Jack said happily, jumping onto the bed next to her.

Quinn set the tray down over her stretched out legs before also sitting down next to her, Luke taking the place near her feet. She tilted her head, “Is it bad?”

“Quinn cooked.”

“Ah, so decent at best.” She laughed a little as she picked up the fork and took a bite of the eggs on her plate.

After she ate a few bites, Quinn spoke up, “We’re sorry for last night.”

She took a sip of her drink and then looked at them, “You guys didn’t do anything wrong.”

“We know, but we’re sorry for not understanding how you feel.”

“And for excluding you at your party.”

She only shrugged and went back in for more of her food, but Jack stopped her hand, “Hey.”

She looked between them annoyed, “What?”

“You’re the best hockey player we know.”

“Sure-”

“It’s true, y/n/n. You have had to put up with so much and you continue to prove yourself to you, to your team and your coach, who cares what anyone else thinks.”

“And you don’t have to prove you deserve to be in the NHL, you do. Whether you know it or not.”

She teared up at their words, tackling Quinn into a hug afterward. Jack steadied the tray, careful not to spill anything onto the sheets. They joined the hug shortly after, smiling at the task of cheering her up was accomplished.

“Thank you.”

In hindsight, it wasn’t the approval of everyone else she needed, not the praise from anyone else, just her brothers. And if her brothers thought she was good enough, she did too.

𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝑱𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝒀 𝑫𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺 + 𝑽𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑼𝑪𝑲𝑺 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

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wildemaven · 1 day

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first anniversary | dieter x poppy

A Sweet Creature

Ava Greene sits down with actor and friend, Dieter Bravo. Hollywood’s new leading man gets candid about life in front of and behind the camera. He talks about his latest movie, his commitment to his sobriety and his newest role— husband?!

Ava Greene: You're approaching three years sober now, how are you feeling?

Dieter Bravo: Probably the best I’ve felt in a long time. Sobriety is a day to day progression that I take very seriously, and I try to not lose sight of that even when I’m having bad days. Though, I’m grateful bad days have been few and far between at this point in my sobriety. I can attribute that to the support system I have built for myself through friends, family, my sponsor that I still work with and most importantly my wife who keeps me grounded daily. They all continue to keep me in check and remind me how awesome my life is, especially right now. Staying clean is a full time commitment, and it’s really a beautiful thing.

AG: You followed in your famous parents footsteps by going into acting and your career and struggles with sobriety have been well documented but your parents have rarely commented publicly, are they supportive of your work and your journey?

DB: For me, I don’t need them to make a show of it by commenting or sharing their thoughts publicly to know they support me. There was a point in time where they did all they could do for me, but ultimately it had to be my choice to make the decision to get clean. Thankfully, we’ve been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. And being in the public eye for most of our lives, the last thing we want is for outsiders thinking they have a say in our lives. In short, yes I have very supportive parents in all aspects of my life and I’m so happy for that.

AG: This is your second project since rehab, are you viewing this as a comeback or a fresh start?

DB: Comeback? I didn’t know I left… Kidding! Sure, some might say it’s a comeback. A fresh start. Whatever analogy best fits the narrative is fine by me— and I don’t mean that negatively in any sense. I mean, you’ve known me long enough to know I just try not to focus on any of that stuff, messes with my fucking brain waves. I just see it as me doing what I love with a new perspective and a different approach to choosing what projects I’m going to give my time to than I have in the past.

AG: What can you tell us about this project and the character you're playing?

DB: I had the best f*ckin’ time while shooting this film— sorry, but the emphasis was needed. I was really drawn to the vibrancy that this script evoked, even with the serious nature of the storyline and characters. I couldn’t stop thinking or talking about for weeks afterwards. I’d sit with my wife at breakfast and we’d discuss the script and my character for what felt like hours. I knew after I heard her feedback that I needed to be apart of this film— she might have said I’d be stupid to say no to it, in her own loving way.

The film is really about the process of rediscovering yourself. Navigating the challenges that come along with being at your lowest point and leaning on the ones who have been there for you. It’s about finding love in its purest form when you never thought you were deserving of it.

I found bits of myself in this character as we were filming, it was very much a cathartic experience for me. I guess you could say it was art imitating life in a weird way.

AG: There's already been some buzz about this year's award season, do you think this is finally your year?

DB: Ooooh! Is it too presumptuous for me to say yes?! I’ve started dusting the spot where I plan for it to go. I sound like some sort of pompous idiot! Now no one is going to go see it!*

I take it back!

In all seriousness, ‘cause I’m sure Poppy and my agent will be rolling their eyes when they read this. If all I get is a couple nominations, that alone feels like winning. A shiny statue would be nice though— just saying.

AG: You've talked often about your love of art and you recently purchased a gallery. Are you planning to publicly pursue other creative endeavors?

DB: I won’t be joining American Idol anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. Oh, you weren’t referring to my ability to hold a note during our many karaoke nights— noted!

How did you put it? Other creative endeavors? I’ve got a few art pieces in the works right now that I’m itching to dive back into when I get home. I’ve got a major gallery in LA lined up later in the year for an artist spotlight exhibit, they’ll be housing some of my work through the next year. Shoutout to my wife for getting that all lined up while I was away shooting this film.

AG: What's next for Dieter Bravo? Any other projects lined up you can tell us about?

DB: I’m looking forward to some downtime I have coming up. Poppy has the summer off, so we’ll get to finally live that newlywed life. Settle into the role of doting husband while she does her thing at the gallery.

AG: Off the record, if you got married and didn't tell anyone I will kick yours and Poppy’s ass!

DB: We’re celebrating our one year this month actually. We eloped quietly last year right after we got engaged— wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. Which reminds me, you and Bryony should hop on a call with Poppy after this. Seeing as I let the cat out of the bag and this is our announcement— surprise!

Huge shoutout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for allowing me to borrow her Ava from Conversations with a Movie Star for this. Ava was so gracious and even wrote the questions herself. I’m so grateful for Lellen and all her support and advice she had given me throughout the writing process of Sweet Creature!

Sweet Creature Celebration

#dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #sweet creature series #sweet creature celebration #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #pedro pascal

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plussizefantasia · 18 hours

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Don't Call Me Kitty

Bucky Barnes x Black Cat! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Reader is plus size and it's talked about being somewhat of a negative thing (its not) , language, I think that's it

AN: This is part one of the BlackCat!Reader x Bucky work that I've been working on for a while. It was a request although I can't seem to find the original request anymore. This is part one of six, all fully written but I decided to split it up because this is by far the longest thing I've ever written and I wanted to publish it in chunks. Let me know if you like it, or if the rest of this should just stay hidden in my drafts for all of eternity.

If you had to spend one more fucking minute in the same car as James Buchanan Barnes, one of you would be dying. And you are pretty fucking confident that it won't be you.

He won't get off your back. Every chance he has it seems like he launches himself at the opportunity to remind everyone that you weren’t always the goody two shoes he thinks you are pretending to be. But God forbid you call him out on the obvious hypocrisy he's spewing because then you’d have to face Rogers and the inevitable tirade he’d go off on about how his best friend was never a bad man, just deeply broken and how the actions he’d taken while under Hydra’s control were not his own.

You don’t take issue with Barnes bringing up your past, it's not a secret. Everyone on the team had at one point been the focus of your ire on one of your bad days and that more often than not led to some sort of discussion where you would disclose more and more about the things you were trying to forget. Your issue with Barnes was that he was trying to insinuate you were one of the good guys. And you’d rather die than admit you were an Avenger.

You are not, nor will you ever be a good guy. You aren’t necessarily a bad guy, but you are not a goody two shoes. Barnes knows that, he also knows that it pisses you off to no end when he tries to tell everyone that you're acting like one.

“Shoulda seen the way she was sucking up to Fury Stevie, she’s trying to be teacher’s pet I’m tellin’ ya.” You were not sucking up to Fury you were stealing his wallet and trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice the fifty bucks you lifted, but Barnes didn’t need to know that.

The worst thing about this hate that you have for James Barnes was the fact that you know deep down you don’t hate him at all. Sure, he pushes your buttons and knows just what to say to get you to want to knock his pretty little teeth out. But he's also a genuinely good guy and most of the time isn't all that bad to be around. But god it's so much easier to hate him than it is to sift through all those feelings.

There was also the fact that the two of you work well together. You can be bickering one second and covering each other’s sixes flawlessly the next. You have a theory on that though, you think that because both of you had been forced to work with people you didn’t trust very much at one point or another you got used to getting the job done no matter what other feelings were floating around in the background. That's what you try to convince yourself is the case. The idea that you and Barnes simply make a good team is nauseating.

Barnes isn’t only good to have in the field though, he has proved his worth off the battlefield when he knocked around some poor recruit who had been running his mouth about you in the training gym. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty and honesty you weren’t going to hold his ignorance against him. If he underestimated you because of your size, then that was on him and in a way, was only gonna help you in the long run.

That was something that you had noticed early on, that most people couldn’t fathom that someone who wasn't a size four could be as good at your job as you are. “Most People” also included people on your team, it had taken you saving Tony’s life in the field more than once for him to admit that he was wrong about you. You are still trying to convince Thor that just because you look soft does not mean you can’t still kick his ass.

You have made people’s lack of faith in you into a good thing. Rich guys aren’t worried about their wallets or watches when a meek little thing bumps into them on the subway and who would suspect the overweight chick to be the one who scales the sides of buildings to get her hands on some unreleased tech from Hammer’s R&D department? Bucky Barnes.

Bucky has never regarded you with the same kind of hesitance as the others. He has never once made it seem like he thought you couldn’t get the job done because you were bigger. And you had to admit, it's refreshing. Not that you need his approval but it's still nice to not be looked at with some kind of doubt, or incredulity. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t piss you off though.

“I swear to God Barnes, if you change the radio station one more time I’m gonna cover your whole arm in fucking extra strength magnets while you're asleep.” An interesting threat sure, but one you will one hundred percent follow through on.

“The station keeps changing to static, kitty, you want to listen to static for the next three hours?” He asks. He's right, you are both on your way to some ball in Alabama and according to Tony, all the Quinjets are in use for this weekend (bullshit), which leaves you and Bucky to get there the old fashion way, a road trip.

You're already eight hours in and are currently driving through the small towns and mountains that cover a good section of the south. Which means that the radio is cutting in and out. And yeah he's right, you don’t want to listen to static but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’d prefer the goddamn static over the song changing every five fucking seconds.”

“Well, it’s either that or silence, kitty.”

“First of all Barnes, I’ve told you not to call me kitty. It’s demeaning. Secondly, maybe some silence will do you good, you might be able to hear yourself think for once. If you’re capable of thinking.” You shoot back at him.

“Oh, kitty I have plenty of thoughts I’m pretty sure I think enough for the two of us.” He looks at you without turning his head away from the road, giving you a sidelong glance.

“Oh yeah, about what? How to get more beefy? Whatever the next idiotic insult you’ll hurl at our resident birdbrain will be? Whether or not you'll get wrinkles from the perpetual furrow in your brow?”

“I don’t think you want to know what goes on in my head, Mittens.” He pulls his bottom lip up in between his teeth to stop the smirk that is spreading across his face.

“You did not just call me fucking Mittens” Your jaw is practically on the floor. The audacity of this man.

“You said I couldn’t call you kitty. What are my other options?”

“Maybe my name? Asshole.” You also have to fight back a smile. Teasing Barnes is nice, it was the closest thing you have to a genuine relationship. Too bad you can’t stand him.

“You memorized your cover?” He asks you. You almost scoffed at him, you're not a goddamn amateur.

“Of, course. I’m Debrah Longborne, Georgian peach and heiress to my Daddy’s large fruit processing fortune.” This mission is a simple one. You're here to take down a corrupt governor and what better place to do than at the gala he and his wife organize every year? You had Tony donate to his wife’s foundation under your cover name. Large enough to draw attention but not too much attention that you can’t get your job done. “And you…?”

“Brantley Moore, Law professor at Vanderbilt, and your arm candy for the night.” You like going undercover, and this assignment is a short one, just one weekend. It's almost like being another person, just with all your skills and an ulterior motive.

“Who the hell picked the name Brantley?” You ask.

“I know right, I sound like some preppy douchebag”

“Not too far off then.”

“Fuck off.” He laughs. You like his laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he does it, a brief glimpse into the years he has lived through, not all sunshine and rainbows, but enough joy to have laugh lines.

“So Debrah and Brantley met where?”

“Vanderbilt has society mixers every winter, where the professors and some select students get the chance to network with some donors and other important people. It’s a believable story plus there’s over a thousand attendees at these things which makes it easy to slip our names onto the list.”

“And whose idea was that?” you lift an eyebrow. “Mine.”

“How do you know about the Vanderbilt mixers?”

“I had a life before I met you, didn’t you know that.”

“I knew you had a life I guess I just didn’t assume it involved rubbing elbows with southern socialites at prestigious university parties.”

“I wasn’t rubbing elbows, it was for a deal made by Peirce with the university president, I was there as a bodyguard for Pierce and to cover our tracks when things inevitably got bloody.” Any hint of teasing falls from Bucky’s voice. He says shit like that sometimes. Shit that you think he says to scare you or to remind you how dangerous he was. All it does is make you sad. Nobody deserves to go through what he had, and you hate that those evil bastards had taken a great man and mangled him.

The conversation peters out after his revelation. The two of you ride in silence for the next two hours. Thirty minutes in, you get closer to the city and the radio sputters back to life. Bucky reaches to turn it off.

When you finally reach the hotel both of you are a bit on edge. You’ve been driving all day, switching back and forth every few hours but Bucky’s silence for the last little stretch seems to have affected both of you more than you’d thought.

Still, you have a job to do and you’ll be damned if you let the metal-armed nuisance ruin your reputation for perfect follow-throughs. You grab your small weekender bag out of the backseat and make your way to the front desk. You school your features and dust off the southern belle persona that has been stashed away in your metaphorical conman toolbelt.

You can feel Bucky trailing behind you, and an idea pops into your head. Swiftly turning on your heel you pass your bag into his unoccupied hand. Not giving him a chance to say no you rotate back around and march forward at a pace fitting to a very busy society woman.

Bucky sputters behind you and you toss over your shoulder, “If I’m playing an heiress this weekend, I'm not lifting a goddamn finger if I don’t have to.”

Marching the rest of the way to the desk you flash the young woman behind the counter a polite smile, “Room for Longborne”. She immediately matches your smile and begins typing away on her keyboard pulling up the reservation that was made for your cover.

“Of Course Ms. Longborne, I have you down for the Iris sweet for three nights is that correct?”

“Sounds correct to me, although if you could hold the room for one more day that would be just peachy of you, we don’t know how long our business here is going to take and it’s better to be safe than sorry. You understand of course.” You put every ounce of Southern charm into your words and pray to God that this interaction can be over sooner rather than later.

“Of course Ms., Here are your keys. Your room is on our twelfth floor and the number is embossed on the front of the card.” She hands you a package of three cards across the desk. “If you need anything at all don’t hesitate to call.”

You nod, taking the key cards from her hand, and motion for Bucky to follow you to the elevator.

The ride up to the twelfth floor is silent, much like the last stretch of the car ride. What you aren’t expecting is Bucky’s exclamation when he walks into the room before you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.”

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stinmybubs · 2 days

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"Do It For Us." Pt.4

AN: I LIED SHE IS IN UA CUZ SHIKETSU IS TOO STRICT AND SHE NEEDS CREATIVE FREEDOM.

Summery: quirkless and weak, two words treat have defined this girl for too long. She can be useful to her friends, she can finally carve out a way into the hero life. From the sidelines. But…Izuku has a quirk? When? How? He’s a liar….

M. Izuku x AFAB! Reader x B. Katsuki

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3

Being an inventor had opened your eyes, so many possibilities with creating things you realize heros will need. Some quirks can’t be regulated without support items which means you would be a vital part of history!

And some quirks weren’t hard to replicate. In a way you could research quirks and make your own. You had so many plans and ideas to share, especially after taking your first step in your classroom.

You felt your heart racing, transferring a month into school was stressful, everyone already knew each other and probably had clicks.

The support course, you were able to branch off after your main classes into the little indoor laboratories or whatever they’re called to create. Of course of of them were taken, two people in one garage.

Of course you were lucky enough to have one more spot so you didn’t have to walk across the entire school to get to an empty one. The teacher had told you that your partner will be a girl since of your record.

You nervously approach the lab, a box of blueprints and tools in your hands and you push the door open to see a girl with a big smile on her face laughing maniacally while creating her creations.

“My babies will be perfect! After I showcase these babies they’ll have to recruit me and buy my precious babies!” The pink haired girl cheered holding one of her ‘babies’ in the air.

You simply sneak into the room, making your way to the long desk across the room. Surprisingly it was empty, you thought since she was alone she’d take up the whole space.

“Hiya!” You felt a hand suddenly on your shoulder making you scream. “Oh my god!” You drop your box on the desk turning around to see the pink haired girl who had grime all over her face smiling at you.

“I was told a female transfer student will need space! So I kicked the guy who was in here outta here!! Of course I wanna work with a girl! We can create precious babies together! By the way the names Mei Hatsume! Wanna see some of my babies!? Oo what’s in here!” The girl was spouting so much you couldn’t even comprehend anything she was saying, everything was happening so fast.

It kind of reminded you of Izuku.

“Oh! That’s just my blueprints…I wanna see if I can replicate complicated quirks maybe even see if you can like I dunno…change some? An example would be if Mount lady could control her size! It would be super useful especially when navigating a large city with cramped roads. Mount lady would-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the girl listening intently, you face flushing realizing you were rambling like Izuku normally would.

“That’s a brilliant idea! Me and you are gonna get along just fine! You’re also just in time for the sports festival! It’s literally in 2 days!” She cheered helping you set up your side of the room.

Mei was a doll, you loved her bright energy and her ability to create was grand! You two spent the day going over blue prints and possible tools you could bring to the sports festival.

This is where you heard that class 1-A was the most popular class right now, the hero course. That’s where you could assume where Bakugou and Izuku was, well either 1-A or 1-B.

“Yeah that Bakugou guy is a real snob!” You flinch at the name, currently you were fetching some history books with a fellow classmate to stock up in your home room class.

“Yeah should’ve known class 1-A would be to egotistical. Only a select few get into the hero course.”

Class 1-A huh? You thought, spacing out at the thought of visiting Bakugou. He’s only a few halls away, you could totally just pop in. But we’re you ready?

“Ah!” You didn’t know what was happening, one minute you were walking with a stacks of books the next you were falling. Turns out a whole group of students starting bombarding the halls.

“What the hell!?” You look around, picking yourself up noticing the group of students making their way down the halls. “They late for class or?”

“Nah, they’re checkin out class 1-A, not only did they survive a real villian attack but in the sports festival they can switch you into the hero class if they see you fit for it. Meaning some kids, gonna get moved out.” Your class mate stated, helping you pick up your books that you had dropped.

“It’s not like I wanna get in so…-“ your class mate continued talking while you stared down the hall. Thoughts racing through your mind. You hadn’t seen Bakugou in months.

I wonder how he’s doing…

I’m just not ready.

The days before the sports festival past quickly, you told mei that you didn’t think you could participate in the sports festival due to your anxiety. She understood right away and told you she will represent your babies at the festival in your steed.

Mei was such a sweet girl, she always knew exactly what to say to you and how to make you feel better. You felt so lucky.

You watched from the area your class was assigned, you were basically the only one there as all the classes walked into the large stadium. You heart raced, you immediately could see the two you longed to see the most.

They haven’t changed. You smile watching as the classes line up to listen to the hero Midnight announce the rules and who’s going to sing the pledge.

“Bakugou Katsuki!” The skimpy suited hero yelled, unexpected. You thought that Katsuki would be the last person to represent a class, due to his very aggressive behavior. You simply watched as he walked up into the podium, hands stuck in his pockets.

“I just wanted to say. That I’m gonna win.”

Oh my god…

Your jaw drops and you cover your mouth, trying to hold your laughter in. God damn it Katsu! Honestly you should’ve known he’d do something like this, his bold confidence was something I’m you used to admire. Come to think of it you were doing fine seeing him.

MaybeI am ready…

But you just didn’t want to risk it, ruining your own life after another episode, you don’t think you would ever recover from another episode. Especially after finding your calling.

As the games went on, you watched the first event intently, seeing Bakugou fighting for first place gave you a rush of your own. You couldn’t help but be internally rooting for him.

Until you saw Izuku flying past the the two boys fighting for first place. Your eyes widen, like in slow motion you saw the boy you admired all your life. Izu..

You stood up in your chair, now you had no clue who to root for! Woah! Izu is so smart…he used the bombs to propel himself in front of the rest of them. He always was the smart one, you know instead of a hero he couldn’t taken the support course. With that brain he could make fine equipment for hero’s.

Your smile fades, how did he get into the hero course..? Only the best of the best, with quirks can get in…

Before your mind begins to race, you quickly calm yourself down, settling back in your seat to continue watching the race play out.

As the games went on, the Calvary battle gave you a good laugh watching Bakugou fly around and angrily yell at his teammates.

You smile as both your childhood friends made it to the finals, Bakugou was fighting a cute girl! And Izuku was fighting a todoroki. Well the only fights you were interested in paying any attention to, you kind of spaced out for the rest of the fights until theirs came.

Well of course you had a very good laugh when Mei toyed with that glasses guy!

Finally it was Bakugou’s fight, of course you were voting for him. Watching as he basically bullied the girl, her quirk…they said it was gravity right. Yknow if I had it I would. Then you realized what she was doing, looking up to see the broken pieces of the stage floating above the stadium.

I fucking love her. You thought excitedly, you kind of hoped this would work, the girl was tirelessly charging herself at your blonde haired friend. Hearing the crowd booing Bakugou broke your heart, not only for Bakugou but the fact that they’re totally underestimating this girl!

One of the announcers lectured the heros booing him, as the rocks came falling down, it was an amazing sight. Woah! The hero course is so…amazing. But with one blast Bakugou countered her attack basically ending the fight there after the girl collapsed due to exhaustion.

You felt a hand land on your shoulder startling you as you realize it was just Mei. “Did you see our babies Y/n! They did so good! Don’t worry if any agencies ask about them I’ll let them know you helped me too! And of course some of them are your design.” She cheered giving you the biggest hug as you watch Izuku step out onto the stage.

You tuned out the world during this fight, there was no way he was going to win. Especially without a quirk. Your memory remembered the time where he told you that he had a chance to get in. Does that mean…? No…so was he not quirkless? Did he find out he had one?

So he wasn’t like you?

As the fight when on, he managed to counter every attack which made your heart sink. Confirming your thoughts as you watch his bones break with each powerful use of his quirk.

He had a quirk? When? Since when did he get a quirk?

You didn’t know how or when. All you knew is that he wasn’t like you anymore, he wasn’t quirkless. A weakling it be pushed around all your life, a defenseless bug to be squashed underneath everyone’s feet.

Or was he just lying…did he lie about not having a quirk? Laughing behind your back all these years as he pretended to be your friend? Your alley? Your only hope? Your mind raced with thoughts you didn’t even know you had streams of tears rushing from your eyes down your face, Mei calling out your name.

Since you weren’t budging, staring at the fight as she Mei quickly rushed you out into a waiting room. “Is everything okay Y/n!?? What happened?” You snap back to reality, just breaking down in tears.

You felt like a fool. You felt so betrayed, your heart felt so broken in that very moment. You couldn’t be here anymore, you couldn’t.

“Did you hear?”

“Yeah some girl from the support course was in tears over this fight.”

“Heard it was a quirkless transfer.”

“I wonder what that was about.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes at the bumbling rumors going around the students, watching as Izuku and todoroki fought.

“Her name I think was.. Y/n L/n?” He immediately perked up, turning to the class that was sitting above them to try to listen closer. She must’ve saw Deku usin that stupid quirk. What a fuckin idiot. Katsuki clenched his fist, getting out of his seat to fines you.

He needed to see you.

At least one more time.

AN: maybe this will be a long term series I keep cutting off the romance 😭 IM SO SORRY I LOVE YOU GUYS Xoxo Stinmybubs

#mha x reader #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #mha fanfiction #mha writing #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha angst #bakugou headcanons #izuku midoryia x you #izuku angst #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x reader #mha izuku #deku angst #deku x reader

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eijirousbestie · 2 days

Note

since ur one of the realistic bakugou writers (just like what that anonie said) what do u think about: 1.him being jealous over his s/o. we always see those possessive or jelly bakugou writings, but i think it's kinda over exaggeration sometimes. 2.with affectionate s/o? like, i know things may be very awkward at the start of their relationship but what if his s/o suddenly has the urge to pepper kisses all over his face & hug him so tight? srry if it's stupid😭

Jealousy + Affection

Jealousy

——————————————-

He’d unsuspectingly pull them into his room when they aren’t looking, closing the door behind the two and standing tall with a displeased frown on his face. Jealousy is one of the feelings Katsuki rarely ever feels. And when he does, he absolutely hates it. It doesn’t make sense to him. He has everything he could ever need. An incredible power, insane strength, intellect like no other and a tongue as sharp as a knife. What the hell would he ever be jealous about? Or at least that’s what he would’ve thought before he got close enough to someone to call his own.

“We needa talk,” he’d grumble, brows knit together. “That ‘new friend’ of yours is pissing me off. I swear they only ever need you when I finally have you to myself.”

He’s realistic. He knows they’re not just gonna drop someone for him just because he doesn’t like them for unproved reasons, but that still doesn’t mean he won’t stop wishing they will. Until then, he’ll keep taking extra measures to make sure they can make up for lost time spent together. He’d spend extra time giving TLC he usually wouldn’t, feeling like he’d need to remind his partner where home really is.

In no way is he being overtly possessive or trying to tie his partner down. That’s just crazy as hell. He’s just worried about the third party’s intentions with his person, untrusting of what their motives may be or what their influence is on his partner. He knows they can handle their own but still it’s just a normal concern.

Then again, this is Katsuki we’re talking about so when he has his mind set on something it’s hard to change his mind about it, but he tried to be flexible for them. He tries. Jealousy is a bitch.

————————————————————

Affection

Having an affectionate partner isn’t always the easiest for Katsuki to deal with but that doesn’t mean he won’t try. Most likely this person would be one of the very few relationships he’s had throughout his life. Being career and goal focused for years on end left him with no time to think about all that lovey dovey bullshit other people his age would drown in. But everybody wants somebody, even if it’s just a friend.

And that’s how the two had started. Being friends with Katsuki is no easy feat. Having to put up with constant yelling, bickering and outrageously childish arguments, it wasn’t a cake walk. But it sure as hell was still fun just like any other friendship. The two had gotten along unsuspectingly well even though their personalities were near opposite. Him being reserved and self righteous; them being outwardly friendly and super connected to people.

In most cases Katsuki wouldn’t give someone like them the time of day, but of course they’re a rare case. His rare case. Katsuki could find solace in them knowing that whatever stupid shit he might spew could easily be returned with matched energy. The sense of mutual respect would then blossom them into a budding relationship, one where he could feel safe enough to fall with them completely.

At the beginning, yes it was a bit awkward. He wasn’t the skinship type at all and didn’t really understand why someone had to be glued to another person’s skin damn near 24/7. But after being slowly acclimated to hand holding, he starts to warm up to mutual touch. Having gotten used to being hugged up by them since the earlier stages in their friendship, of course he knows all their tells months into their new relationship.

Occasionally coming in for a hug, he’d accept, letting them do so as long as it wasn’t overly performative. There’s a happy balance in everything so he’d gotten to learn how to take it with stride after a while. Well, only if they hadn’t pestered him with too much physical contact in one day. One too many hugs? He’d put a palm to their face and lightly shove them away, not using any real strength to hurt them. Only enough to send the message that he’s all hugged out.

Of course, if he noticed he’d been neglecting their love language of touch, he’d concede, but in his own way. Loungin on the couch with them, he may glance down and notice their hands resting in their lap as they focus on the television. His gaze would drift up to the side of their face, watching their expression closely before taking their hand in his and putting it in his lap instead, lightly stroking the back of their hand with his thumb.

Katsuki can be a hardass sometimes. Most of the time. But he’s incredibly perceptive of people, especially those he holds close to his heart. So of course he’d do what he can to make them feel comfortable around him all while keeping himself comfortable and preserving his own boundaries.

————————————————————

#I’m late I know #sorry for the hiatus #mha headcanons #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou #my hero academia

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crdteezv · 3 days

Text

Frat House - Xiaojun Ver.

DISCLAIMER (important): This is a continuation of a fratboy series I’m doing for all the Wayv members! I recommend you read the prologue here first so everything can make more sense. You can also choose the other members here or a the end if you are interested in seeing someone else!

Paring: !fratboy! xiaojun x f! reader

Genre: college! au, frat! au, smut

Synopsis: You continue playing an interesting game of Spin the Bottle/Truth or Dare with Ten and his friends. You were dared to spend the night with one of them. When the bottle was spun, it landed on Xiaojun. You wondered what type of things you and him were about to get into tonight…

Warnings: smut. !switch! sub to soft dom! xiaojun, dirty talk, praise, slight degradation, teasing, kissing, fingering, hair pulling, oral (receiving), edging, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.6k words

A/N: It’s been a while since I last posted something (like 2 months…) I apologize for being inconsistent in uploading each part. I lacked motivation a lot of times hence why I haven’t been consistent like I used to be. Now that it’s summer, I have more time to write and I have a lot of good things coming soon!! But this series will soon come to an end! All I have left to do is Winwin and I’m done the Wayv Frat Series. I appreciate it if y’all just be patient with me 😭

After Hendery spun the bottle, it landed on Xiaojun.

You didn't feel bothered by it since you and he were once close friends, and there wouldn't be any awkwardness between you two.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you; now let’s head over to your room. I'm so tired.”

Xiaojun nodded his head and led you into his bedroom. Meanwhile, the others wished that the bottle would’ve landed on them instead of Xiaojun, especially Hendery. He is the reason all of this happened because of the dare he created.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“So here is my room!” Xiaojun said with enthusiasm.

You entered into an earthy tone and organized space. His room had almost a comforting feeling to it. You made your way over to his bed and got comfy.

“H-hey, if you’re not okay with us staying in the same room, I wouldn’t mind sleeping-”

“Uh, what are you talking about, dude? We used to be best friends and be with each other all the time. You should come to bed, silly. Don’t tell me you’re all shy about it now.”

“Pft, me, shy? Never. It's just different now, you know? We haven't been as close since we left high school," Xiaojun said.

He does have a point.

The friendship you once had with him was totally different now.

He was like Ten for you, always being at each other's houses after school and would sometimes stay over. Things between you and Xiaojun have always been purely platonic. But ever since you met Ten, you’ve been around him more.

“Yeah, I feel you, but hey, it will be just like old times, alright?”

He nodded his head and made his way over to you and laid down on the bed.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves reminiscing about old times, sharing stories and laughter. It was as if no time had passed since you last spoke as if the years of distance and silence had never existed. Memories of your past friendship flooded back, reminding you of the inside jokes, shared secrets, and the countless hours spent hanging out together. You both needed this chance to reconnect and remember the friendship you once had.

The room fell silent as Xiaojun slowly made direct eye contact with you. Your heart beat with anticipation, not knowing what he was going to say.

“What happened to us?”

You gave him a confused look and asked him what he meant by that.

He then proceeded to say, “You know, our friendship. We used to always goof around and be around each other all the time. Now I barely see you anymore. I really miss—”

He stopped himself from talking and did not want to embarrass himself anymore.

“You know what? Nevermind. I was just rambling about nothing important. It’s getting late, and we should—”

“You miss what, Jun?”

He had a sincere look on his face, almost as if he was holding himself back. He gently caressed your hand and said, “You. It’s you that I miss the most. Being with you all the time is what I miss.”

His statement caught you off guard and left you feeling flustered. You didn’t realize how much Xiaojun missed being friends with you. You always spent your time with Ten that you didn’t even realize it.

“Wow, I didn’t know you felt that way. I feel so bad because I was supposed to be your best friend.”

“No, don't feel bad, it’s okay. You have Ten now, and you see him way more than me anyway.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and continued to hold eye contact with him.

“Still, you were there for my first, and I shouldn’t have gotten so distant with you—”

“I like you.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at his sudden confession. You fell quiet for a second, which started to make Xiaojun even more nervous.

“Wait, you do? How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since we started to become best friends. I know this is sudden, and I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but it’s just we finally have some alone time together and—”

You silenced him with a kiss, to which he gradually responded, and passion quickly sparked between you. You found yourself sitting on his lap, straddling him, as things intensified. He began to whimper softly as you exchanged kisses. Pulling back, you gave him a sinful look, leaving him utterly captivated and longing for more.

“Is it okay if I keep on going, Jun?”

He was too shy to speak, so he simply nodded. You began to shower kisses all over his neck, leaving marks. His whimpers and moans of pleasure echoed as you skillfully heightened his sensations. Lost in pleasure, he tilted his head back, prompting you to gently grasp his neck, urging him to meet your gaze.

“Oh, this is only going to work if you keep on looking at me. The moment you take your eyes off me, I will stop everything that I’m doing, understand?”

"Y-yes, I understand, I'm sorry," he stuttered.

You silenced him with another passionate kiss, then spoke firmly, "It better not happen again."

You felt something start to become hard underneath you.

“Aww, you like it when I treat you like this, don’t you, Jun?”

He nodded his head, feeling flustered and unable to help himself.

You started to grind against his crotch, making him even more of a mess for you. He began to softly whimper and melt into your arms. He loved that you were taking control and looking up into your eyes. You began to kiss him and wrapped your hand around his throat. He seemed to like that because you felt him harden underneath you once again.

You decided to take it further and started to move down onto his neck, marking him up. He bit his lip in an attempt to stifle his moans, but once you began to lower your hand and touch his erection, he couldn't contain himself.

"Mhm, you’re joining enjoy this, aren’t you, Jun?"

All he could do was nod his head in response.

You lifted up his shirt, and he did the same. He looked at you with such desperation, still unable to believe that all his fantasies were about to come to life. After one more passionate kiss, you proceeded to kiss down his chest. Moving lower, you pulled down his joggers and underwear.

His dick made contact with your face as it sprung up against it.

“Wow, you seem really excited about this.”

He nodded his head and started to shake a little. You noticed and gripped his waist with one of your hands to keep him in place. With your other hand, you began to slowly stroke his cock. He tried his best to stifle all of his sinful noises, but he couldn’t keep it together. He began to stroke up into your hand and get lost in his pleasure.

“Mhm, who would’ve thought that you were this needy for me? How long have you thought about this, Jun?”

“S-since I f-first met y-you. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You started to stroke him at a faster pace than before.

"Oh, really? I didn't know you were this obsessed with me," you remarked.

You started to gently kiss all over his dick, and he began to whine and beg for you to stop.

“I find it very cute, honestly.”

That almost did it for him. Your teasing and taunting were pushing him to the edge and he wasn't sure how much longer he could resist you.

Then, you took him into your mouth.

He arched his back in pleasure, practically screaming out for you

You bobbed your head up and down on him, and he loved every second of it. You started using both hands to stroke the base of his member while sucking on the tip. You could feel him pulsing around your hands and in your mouth.

He couldn’t hold back, and he grabbed your hair and he started thrusting himself into your mouth with full force. You began to gag on him and felt your eyes start to water. As he was about to finish, he decided to lift you off of him and stop himself.

You were confused as to why he did that when he was so close. He then flipped you over onto your back and pinned your hands down above your head. He knelt into your ear and whispered,

“Now it’s my turn.”

He said it in such a husky and deep tone that it took you off guard for a second. You'd never seen Xiaojun look so serious and almost intimidating. His voice sent shivers down your spine. Even that desperate look in his eyes changed. It was as if he had become a completely different person now.

He started to wrap one of his hands around your throat and lower the other down into your shorts. He let out a cocky smirk and said, “Oh wow, honey, don’t tell me you got wet just from sucking me off. Here I thought I was the pathetic one. But you, my love—”

He took your shorts completely off and left your panties on. He pushed your panties to the side and inserted one of his fingers into your aching pussy. You let out a soft whimper and tried your best not to be too loud.

“You, my love, are just as desperate as I am.”

You knew he was right. You always had a crush on him, but you were always too scared to act on it. Since you and him stopped seeing each other as much, your feelings for him started to go away. But some part of you knew you still liked him regardless of that.

He started pounding his finger into you, and you wanted to melt in his arms instantly. He added a second finger into the mix, and you let out a loud moan. He knew that you were enjoying every second of this. He even started to rub your clit with his thumb. You didn’t care how loud you were being; you practically whined and screamed out in pleasure. You couldn’t control yourself anymore. You returned the same desperate and needy gaze he had given you earlier.

“Aww, you’re so pretty when you moan out for me, darling. Keep on making noises for me.”

You reveled in everything he was saying to you, and he loved seeing you in this state. He had been wanting this for so long, and now that it was finally happening, he couldn’t believe it. He felt that you were close to the edge and decided to pull out his fingers.

You whined from not feeling full anymore, but that didn’t last long when he positioned his cock against your pussy and shoved himself into you. You threw your head back in pleasure and wrapped your legs around his waist. He was giving you long but hard strokes. He took his time with you and wanted to savor this moment between the two of you.

“God, you're so beautiful, and I love when you look at me like that.”

You loved it when he would always praise and compliment you. All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. You felt almost connected to him in this moment and didn’t want to let go of him. He seemed like he was getting anxious and wanted to speed things up a bit. He grabbed onto the bedframe and started to thrust into you at a faster pace.

“Mhm, this feels so good, Jun—”

“I know, baby. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

You felt yourself start to loosen up around him, and he pushed your legs back around your head. He explored deeper into your core, touching places you never imagined could bring such pleasure. He found your sweet spot, which drove you more insane than before.

You didn’t know how long you could take this anymore.

“P-please, slow d-down, Junnie, I—”

It had been a while since you called him and he loved it so much. In a sudden burst of energy, he accelerated, moving as quickly as possible.

“Fuck, sweetie, if you keep calling me that, you’re going to drive me completely insane.”

You let out a smirk, and you had so much lust in your eyes as you said, “But I love calling you that. It makes you all flustered and you look cute.

You saw that his face started to become red, and he couldn’t even look you in the eye anymore.

“Aww, what’s wrong, Junnie? Where did all your confidence go? Don’t tell me you’re going to give up on me now…”

He didn’t like how much you were patronizing him, and he didn’t hold back. He started to choke you again, and he had this serious look in his eyes. He knelt down into your ear and said, “Now, darling, I'm not going to last very long, and you can run your mouth all you want, but if you don’t finish at the same time as me, you’re on your own.”

He looked as intimidating as before, and you knew he wasn’t messing around anymore. So you gave in to his demands. He thrust into you with such force and vigor, and you both reached your breaking points and came at the same time.

He collapsed onto your chest, he felt his whole body become weak.

“Hey, Jun, get off of me, you're too heavy.”

He let out a chuckle and rolled you over to the bed, and now you’re both facing each other side-by-side. You lay there for a minute and thought back on all the things that just happened. You didn’t know what to say, and then he finally spoke.

“Hey, look, if I was too rough or got carried away, I want to say I'm sorry for that—”

“Junnie, you don’t have to apologize for anything. That was all so good. I especially liked the part where you took control towards the end. I didn’t know you had that in you.”

He blushed at your words, still surprised that you allowed him to do all this to you and that you felt the same way about him.

“Aww, thanks, really. So what do we do now? I hope this doesn’t get in the way of you and Ten. I see the way he looks at you—”

“Oh, he will be fine. He is pretty understanding, and I don’t think he would have a problem with this. At the end of the day, he is my best friend, and he would support me no matter what.”

Xiaojun felt reassured about the situation. He understood that you were closer to Ten now and he just didn't want to cause any problems.

“But we should start hanging out more, Jun, and maybe even… go on a date?”

He froze for a second. He couldn’t believe that this was finally happening.

“U-um, I would really love that, actually!”

You kissed him on the lips and said, “Okay, so where do you want to go?”

**A/N: **If you want to see what would happen if the bottle landed on a different member, choose here: [KUN] [TEN] [WINWIN] [HENDERY] [YANGYANG]

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sexysadie23 · 4 hours

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚Lady Killer ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rafe Cameron Oneshot

Your First Meeting

Tags | Bestfriend!Rafe Cameron x innocent!reader / bunny!reader

Synopsis | Despite having moved to Figure 8 on Kildare in your early teens, you never had many friends. Certainly not in the kook academy, the only place you really had the chance to. But upon attending one of your parents’ country club events, the island suddenly doesn’t seem so lonely.

Warnings | Underage drinking and drugs - misogynistic comments (more exciting things to come in the series!)

Note | This is my first time writing a Rafe fic! This will be just a one shot of how these two characters met, but I will be making this a series eventually! I do include certain elements to reader ie. Being an only child and ‘doe eyes’. If you don’t like that - don’t read it! Reader is like so cute and obsessed with Rafe and he’s like wtf okay?

——————————— ୨୧ ————————————

For a long time, you thought there was something explicitly wrong with you. You’d moved a couple times in your life, so you’d never really had friends which stuck. You were simply just a phase in other kids your ages’ lives, only to be remembered as ‘that girl which was in our grade’.

It was lonely for a while, and you had learnt to find comfort in the little things. Friday nights in watching your favourite movies, reading in the library at lunch, the birdsong on the walk home from school. Yet moving to Kildare seemed to be where your parents finally decided for you set up camp, and you’d sparked an iota of hope that this is where you would find your people.

Your parents were moderately well off, though certainly not as rich as some families seemed to be at your new home. But you had always had the essentials. On top of them however, was a nice home, a vacation at least once a year and never any need for a part time job. After all, being the only child your parents wanted you to focus solely on your studies at the Kildare Academy, otherwise known as ‘Kook Academy’ - why, you didn’t know really.

You’d never had to wear a uniform before. You were so excited though at 14 years old - wearing your mary janes and blazer which was slightly too big. Your pink JanSport backpack which was bulkier than necessary, a Winnie The Pooh keychain dangling off of it.

“Mom, do you think they’ll like me?” The unadulterated hope in your eyes made your mother smile. She worried about you sometimes. With your wide eyes and kind heart, she feared you were too trusting, sheltered for your age.

“Just be your sunny self, sweetie and they will love you.”

But that was not what happened.

You tried, honestly you tried to make friends. Still nothing seemed to stick. People at the academy had been there for years, with it being a relatively small school full of people from Figure 8 with pre-established friend groups and social standing. You’d entered at an age where teenagers were enraptured with what their peers thought of them, and the girls at the school only judged you for your lack of designer handbag or lack of makeup, lack of status - or whatever problem they could seem to find.

You even came back to the gym lockers to change only to find ‘Chanel’ written over the exed out ‘Jansport’ of your bag. Your mother was infuriated, and insisted you use one of her designer bags to fit in.

You denied, however much you wanted to and were somewhat materialistic, you knew they would just call it a fake or find some other way to deface it. You’d simply washed the backpack, and continue to use it until graduation 2 months ago.

Summer vacations were hard for you. When you saw so many others at parties in big mansions or even on the other side of the island, ‘the cut’ as you learned, or people surfing with their friends, it only served as a reminder of your solitude. So much so that you had resigned to reading in your garden, window shopping online or following your parents around.

This included Midsummer’s. It was a sort of soiree to celebrate…well, actually you weren’t sure what. Being rich, it seemed? That’s what it looked like, as you sat there in your pink tulle ankle length dress, flowers woven throughout your hair tied simplistically with a white ribbon. You idly watched, sipping on a bottle of coca cola as your dad talked business with a fellow doctor from the island.

Obviously, there were kids from the academy there. Many of which you had just graduated with, and all of which were ignoring you - or just didn’t realise you were here. You never pondered too much on your friendlessness, looking at the positives in your life rather than the negatives.

The atmosphere at the party was thriving, and you adored the pageantry. One lady in particular, a blonde fussing over a curly haired tween with glasses was wearing an extravagant headpiece which looked like it could poke out your eye. A girl from the academy around your age stood nearby, wearing white with flowers in her hair as well. She looked pretty, but being from the academy you knew to keep your distance.

It was starting to wear you out, the fact that nobody had asked you a question in 45 minutes. Then and there, you’d decided to at least explore the venue, which had waiters and bar staff scuttling in and out every so often.

“Hi- excuse me.” You tap such a boy on the shoulder, and he swings round to meet you with shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes. “Would you happen to know where the ladies’ bathrooms are?”

He looks somewhat startled, as if he doesn’t actually know what you asked him. “What? Um, sure thing. Just uh- this way my lady.” He nods, in a somewhat boyish way, and leads you to the patio where you follow him through to where the ‘Ladies’ sign hangs on the door.

“Thank you so much, um…” you were selectively shy, but still had manners.

He grins. “JJ - Maybank.” He winks, before he sees something behind you, a blue jacket from whose owner rumbles,

“The hell’s the pogue doing here?”

The blonde smiles at you before dashing off, leaving you to the bathroom where you rearrange the ribbon in your hair and add some extra lip gloss.

You’d hid out there for about 10 minutes, not wanting to return to a party you were already invisible at.

The door to the ladies oscillated as you walk out, determined on telling your parents that you weren’t feeling well and wanted to return home. It sounded better than sitting here, suffocating in your own silence as you watched people from your grade slip each other sips of brandy while they laughed and joked with one another.

You walked past a locker room of sorts, and saw the very same blue jacket from your peripheral before. He appeared to be roughed up: shirt crinkled, a bit of blood on his nose which he held up to the ceiling.

It was curious, but sad to you. Maybe he was bullied like you too? Though you had never been physically assaulted. He looked a similar age to you, but even sitting down seemed much taller. Bigger in general, as his shoulders strained against his tux jacket.

You returned to the ladies and got some tissue from the dispenser. Before entering the locker room, you hesitated. Maybe he would be mean like the other rich kids. But your father’s doctor in you couldn’t let him sit and suffer.

“Hi, are you okay?”

Not looking at you, the boy- man, should you say replies, “God, Sarah I’m fine. Don’t fuckin’ tell dad about this shit alright? I don’t need him hounding me again.” His deep voice reverberated. Despite the harsh language, the smooth drawl was distinct. You liked it.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused at whoever he thought you were. “M’ not- I just came to give you this. You look hurt.” At the hand which was pinching his nose, and failing to stop the stream of blood - you shove a bunch of tissues into.

His eyes widen at the sudden handful of tissues and he lowers his head to look at you properly. He looks you up and down, realising that you are very clearly not his annoying sister.

“Oh, right. Sorry, thought you were my sister but uh, I’m a little bit…out of it right now.” He winced as he sniffled and tried to get the words out, happy that the blood seemed to be absorbing and steadily stopping. “Thanks for, you know this.” He said, gesturing with his free hand to his nose.

It was odd. He seemed weirded out that someone offered him help.

Happy that he didn’t tell you to go away like the other people from the Academy, you sat down beside him with a smile. He looked at you as though you were a bit crazy, but you attributed that to the bruise which was forming on his nose.

“You’re welcome!” You gave him your name, excited at the possibility of making a new friend. “What’s your name?”

This man, in the blue tux and white shirt which had splatters of blood on it now, looked increasingly confused at your eager demeanour. His immediate thought was that you wanted to fuck or hit a bump, given his reputation- yet you asking his name dispelled that thought. You really had no idea who he was. He was pleased about that, for some odd reason.

He could tell by your flouncy dress that you were definitely not a Pogue - thank god - but Midsummer’s was an exclusive islander event, so the other idea of being a touron was out. If not a pogue or a vacationer, then who the hell were you?

“I’m Rafe.” He said. The corner of his mouth twitched, finding it comical how he’s leaving his last name out. He needed to figure out if you had an ulterior motive or something. As most girls, even some of his friends- heck even his own father, often did.

You blushed at his eye contact, you’d never seen such a handsome boy.

He sniffled his nose and winced once more, holding his hand out for you to shake. Truth be told, he found this interaction hilarious. It wasn’t often that people didn’t know his name, or who his father was.

“Rafe.” You whispered, testing it out. “I like it.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Do you live on Kildare?” You asked, though you quickly felt stupid because you were pretty sure everyone at this party did.

“Yeah, yeah I do- look are you looking to hit up a bump or something? I don’t got anything on me right now.” He cut straight to the point. As much as he appreciated the tissues, he had to go and fuck up that Pogue.

This boy, he kept leaving you confused. “M’ sorry, I don’t know- a bump?” What was he talking about? You were only trying to help.

“Yeah princess. A bump. Coke?” He asked, looking equally as confused as you are. He couldn’t imagine why someone would wander into the club’s male locker rooms, not wanting anything no less. It wouldn’t matter anyhow, Barry’s been fucking around and sampling a little too much to get any product pushed at all.

You smile, suddenly understanding his generous offer. “Oh no it’s okay! I already got one the bar but I don’t like to have too many because it’s bad for your teeth.” You supplied, ever the daughter of a doctor and a dentist.

Yet Rafe Cameron sat there, rather stunned. He couldn’t figure out if you were stupid or just sheltered. Half the people his age at this party were already high, or certainly on their way there. Either way, he didn’t really have time to sniff that out.

He chuckled at your obliviousness. “O..kay. Yeah uh- look, I don’t really-”

“Ooh, pretty. Can I?” You got distracted easily, by the stacked rings adorning Rafe’s - very manly - hands. Not awaiting his answer, you grabbed his free hand and started spinning a ring round his finger. This particular ring was a class ring, fairly large and engraved with the wheat symbol.

He was very weirded out by how forward you were being. You looked like you were wearing princess peach cosplay : pink flouncy dress, kitten heels which couldn’t be ignored and a melodic voice that was almost soothing. So what the hell did a cute thing like you want from him?

“Most of em’ are heirlooms, you know generational.” He replied. It was like he wasn’t allowed to have his own hand back, seeing as it had become your new fixation. He felt as though he had a phantom limb, it was there but it sort of just had to sit limp until you were done with it.

“Is it real gold?”

“Course it is.” He smirked. He wouldn’t be caught dead with disingenuous jewellery.

“So pretty.” You whisper to yourself again, seemingly mesmerised by such a beautiful design. You blushed at his very masculine (why did you keep fixating on that?) hands, with lots of veins.

“Veiny…” you ran your fingers along one of his many veins. Then you looked at your own and just saw slightly chubby, much smaller than his, hands.

“Why do you have more veins than me?” You wondered aloud.

“Well, I don’t know don’t guys have like - more muscle n’ shit? I play golf sometimes too. Lotta handiwork.” Rafe shrugged. One thing he did not expect at Midsummer’s, a fucking bore fest every year, was to be interrogated about his veins and have his bling closesly inspected.

“Oh! Here? At the country club?” You ask, a glimmer of hope striking your eyes.

“Couple times a week if I can.”

You nodded. Maybe this Rafe could be your friend!! Because, “I just got enrolled at the country club too. My dad says I need to get out more…maybe I’ll play tennis. Or golf! Like you.” You were not one for exercise, but you can’t simply stay at home all day every day.

“I mean- that shit’s more like a guy thing in the club. Most chicks just go to the brunch or the sauna.” He says, being honest. It’s mostly just housewives who like the spa and gym facilities.

That dejected you. “Oh.” You said, looking down and finding his hands again.

Rafe noticed this and felt a twinge of guilt; “But, y’know, maybe you could still try it out. They got teachers n shit to help you.”

He was glad to see the smile return to your face at that. “I dunno. Just need to do something this summer.” Other than reading or dwelling on how your parents couldn’t hang out with you. It was becoming pathetic.

Rafe’s bleeding had finally stopped so he threw the tissue in the trash. “Is my nose all fucked up?” He asked. “My dad’ll kill me if he sees I got in a fight.”

Upon inspection of his face, you realised that he was very handsome. Perfectly symmetrical with a good jawline. “Uh-uh,” you replied. “S’ just a lil’ red. Like a reindeer.”

He smiled at the comparison, looking to the ceiling as he poked and prodded his nose. “Okay, it ain’t broken so that’s good.”

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Who’d you get in a fight with? Is someone bullying you?” You question with conviction in your voice, full of compassion and sympathy. That made the Cameron smile a genuine smile. Not many people cared or paid mind to his antics. Never had he been seen as the victim before either.

He laughed at the idea of someone bullying him. He was a Cameron - he was untouchable. The scrunch of your eyebrows which indicated your genuine worry for him was rather endearing though.

“Bullied? Nah. S’ just- s’ just these freakin’ Pogues y’know? Can’t trust em’, even on our side of the island.” He shook his head, turning to face you more on the bench. He got viscerally agitated at the mention of these ‘pogues’, whoever they were.

“Pogues?” You question. You’ve lived here for roughly three years and have never heard of this group. Were they a band?

Rafe noted your confusion once more. “Yeah, from the cut. Just a bunch of lowlifes and basket cases. Don’t associate with them, okay?”

You appreciated how he was giving you advice. No one ever really told you the ins and outs of Kildare, so you were grateful for his guidance. “O-okay. How do I know who is a Pogue?” You wondered.

“Well y’know. They’ll prolly try and steal from you. They look roughed up a lot. Not a lot of money on that side of the island.”

“Ohh. Okay. If they’re Pogues then what are we?”

He looked you up and down - yeah you were definitely part of that ‘we’. “I guess they’d call us kooks. Kooks and pogues sort of don’t mix. S’ why they’re on the cut and we’re here on figure 8 y’know. They just forgot tonight to stick to their land.”

Your eyebrows scrunched up, “So the Pogues beat you up? Should I talk to them?”

Rafe Cameron let out a closed mouth laugh as he was becoming increasingly endeared with your naïveté. Moreover, the way you seemed to truly care. Your big wide eyes focused on him as he considered how to answer.

“I mean they tried. You should see the other guy. But uh- nah. Don’t bother talking to them. They’re pretty set in their ways. Don’t bother going to the cut either. Nothing there for a girl like you.” He warned. He could only imagine the ways a guy like JJ Maybank could take advantage of you and your obvious innocence.

“Alright. Thanks for the advice Rafe.” You gave a tentative smile and blush. This Rafe was really handsome. You could tell from beneath his shirt and jacket that he was muscular. The way his thighs strained against his suit. His neck which had veins branching out all over and a prominent adam’s apple.

He nodded while pursing his lips. He went to speak but a figure appeared at the door.

“Rafe man, cmon’ let’s get out of here. Sarah’s ignoring me and the Pogues crashed. We need to go.” A boy wearing a similar suit to Rafe was. He was tall and blonde, but definitely not as cute as Rafe was! Not to you anyways.

“Uh,” Rafe looked at you and then to his friend. He looked like he wanted to say something. “Y-yeah Top m’ coming. Jus’ meet me outside alright? Shit’s in the glove compartment.”

You saddened at the thought of your new friend leaving. You were just getting to know each other!

He turned back to you and assessed you one more time. Doe eyes met his as you waited for him to speak.

“Maybe I’ll see you around huh? At the club or something.”

Your smile gleamed once more as the prospect of seeing Rafe again. He was just so nice and helpful! You were definitely going to have to use that membership now. Your head moved up and down to indicate a shy yes.

He smirked as he stood, looking down as you remained on the bench. From this angle, he looked just so much bigger. Like a predator eyeing its prey as he loomed over you.

“Alright then. Remember what I said, no pogues.” He warned again, sniffing his nose.

You nodded, still not fully understanding but trusting this Rafe guy’s word. He seems smart. “No Pogues.” You echo back, effectively bringing out his boyish grin.

“Okay, good. Good girl. I’m gonna go so just enjoy the rest of the party okay? Be seein’ you.” He said as he exited the room backwards, jutting his chin towards you before taking off entirely.

There was a fuzzy feeling brewing in your stomach. Glee. It was pure, unadulterated glee. What had started out as a boring party had turned into a monumental moment for you. You’d just made your first real friend on Kildare. And he hinted that he would want to see you again! And he was super pretty and muscular and tall! Though you didn’t know what that had to do with it.

You decided that you’d go home and go shopping for some country club outfits. Something to make you look cute, probably pink. You wilted at the thought of actually trying to learn golf, but if it meant you could maybe one day play with Rafe - then you would do it.

You just couldn’t wait.

——————————— ୨୧ ————————————

Author’s Note : Ahhh! My first fic. I love reader she is just so cute and wholesome like LOL she thinks this guy wants to be her friend. Later in this series she’s really only comfortable w Rafe since he is basically her only friend and is super shy w other people. This was just to set up and show how they met!! I hope you enjoyed :-D

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe obx #bsf!rafe #rafe outer banks #obx x reader #dark!rafe cameron #soft!rafe cameron #bunny girl #bunny reader #innocent!reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fic

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calaisreno · 2 hours

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Save John Watson

1098 words / Prompt: Chaos

“Go to Hell, Sherlock.”

The DVD shuts off. He remains fixed, staring at the screen.

Miss me? He’d thought it had to do with Moriarty. Definitely an attention-getter. He’d needed a diversion. But this…

Mrs Hudson sighs. “Sherlock…”

Her voice startles him, reminds him where he is and that she’s been watching too.

“What are you thinking, dear?”

“Hm?” He looks up at her, standing above him, arms crossed, a frown on her face.

“I’m thinking… how to save John.”

How to go to Hell…

She takes John’s chair, opposite him. He remembers putting it away, then bringing it back. He never can make up his mind about John. What to do about John getting married, what to do about his own vow, now that he’s failed to protect Mary.

You promised. You made a vow.

He never could make up his mind about Mary, either, even before he knew what she was. He’d chosen a dramatic way to let John see for himself, hear her confess what she’d done, and then hoped he was right. John was stubborn, but eventually yielded. But then she died, the thing he hadn’t foreseen.

Days have already been wasted, trying to solve this. Even in death, she presents him with puzzles.

But what she means here is obvious. John is the person they love most. Both of them understand that it’s not in John’s character to allow himself to be saved. He will stubbornly go to hell, insisting that he’s fine. Sherlock must get there first.

Once, Sherlock saved him. He got in a cab with a murderer—and John came to life, followed the cab, and saved Sherlock. The cane was forgotten and never reappeared.

There’s no murderous cabbie this time, no Moriarty threatening to burn his heart out. But there are other ways to go to hell.

Another sigh, a hard look in his direction. “Sherlock, I know you think I’m just a dotty old woman, but I need to say this: going to hell is not good advice. I have no doubt that she loved John, in her own way, and considered you a friend, but she is wrong.”

“In what way?”

“You and John— well, you’re both lovely people— but you have a terribly dysfunctional relationship. Coming from me, a person who’s had her share of relationship disasters, this may not sound like good advice, but who better to recognise a disaster in the making? Mary thinks that if you get yourself in trouble again, lose your mind, risk your life, John will rescue you. That’s his role in your relationship, to save you. Yours is to be brilliant and to need saving from your recklessness. But it’s not healthy. What Mary said is wrong, Sherlock.”

“But she knows John.”

She shakes her head. “Mary was one of those people who needed things to be chaotic. How else would she have become what she was? Assassins aren’t exactly homebodies, you know. She wouldn’t have lasted as a stay-at-home mum. Chaos was her first love, and she married John because he loves danger. And because of you.”

“Me?”

“Because she saw the potential of being a chaos agent between you two, disrupting the partnership you’ve always had. Look what she did to the two of you! Making you both jealous, putting herself between the two of you all the time. Shooting you, then getting John to forgive her because of the baby. And here she is, reaching her hand up from the grave to stir that pot again. She couldn’t help herself. You two have done nothing but abuse one another since you returned.”

“I’ve never hit John. And at the restaurant, he did hit me, but he had reason to be angry. I don’t blame him for his reaction.”

“I’m talking about emotional abuse. Bruises and cuts heal, but when you let people think you’re dead for two years, that’s abuse as well. Yes, Sherlock, it is. When you make him believe things about himself, that he’s not good enough, not loved— that’s abuse that doesn’t easily heal.”

“You think I gaslighted John?”

“It doesn’t matter that your intent was to keep him safe. She encouraged it, always teasing him about you, making herself out to be the smart one. He believes you didn’t trust him, that he wasn’t good enough. He believes you don’t love him.”

“He doesn’t—”

“Yes, he does. It’s as plain as day.”

“I killed his wife.”

She huffs, crosses her arms. “You did not shoot her. It was her choice.”

“No, but I goaded Vivian Norwood into shooting me, and Mary took that bullet.”

“And why do you suppose she did that?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it constantly, and it doesn’t make sense. John loved her—”

“John loves you. She was no idiot, and she knew whose death would destroy him. Remember, she knew him when you were dead and understood what it would do to him if you took that bullet. She put herself in its path out of love for him. And he’s angry, of course. He’s lost his wife, and has a daughter to raise alone. But he loves you, and his anger is really guilt: when he saw you alive, and his wife dying, he felt relieved that it wasn’t you. That made him feel guilty.”

Sherlock is shaking his head. “Mrs Hudson, I know you’ve always seen us together romantically, but John isn’t gay. He—”

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter,” she replies, leaning forward. “We love who we love, and he loves you. Now, I’m not saying you meant to harm each other. Things have been out of kilter, and neither of you has dealt with it. He’s angry, and your feelings are hurt. Making it worse it not the answer. The only way to escape this is to step out of it.”

Sherlock stands and walks to the window. He stares into the street for a long time, thinking.

They were broken when they met. He’d been out of rehab for a few months, and was trying to learn sobriety. A junkie is always a junkie, and substituting cases for cocaine was healthier, but not a cure. Every day, he’d struggled to distract himself, and felt himself weakening. The case of the pink lady was an excellent distraction, but John—

He’d seen it that day in the path lab. A man with a cane for a psychosomatic limp. A doctor whose heart was still on the battlefield.

He turns to her. “What should I do?”

Another chapter of "Things Somebody Should Have Said in Canon." Sherlock's question will be answered (eventually) in another story.

@keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @totallysilvergirl @raina-at @friday411

#mayprompts2024 #chaos

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pomegranate · 14 hours

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I rewatched “Hanky Panky”, an episode I don’t revisit very often - in my opinion, it’s not a very good exploration of BJ and his faithfulness, and the concept kind of falls flat for me. The lovely @captainhunnicutt explains it perfectly in this post.

What it does do, however, is provide a fascinating depiction of Hawkeye reacting to his best friend being unfaithful. This turned out way longer than I wanted it to, so:

We see Hawkeye go through several phases, re: BJ and cheating. First, he teases him about it and the viewer is reminded (clumsily, see Shan’s post) that BJ is the ultimate family man - directly contrasting the charmingly lecherous Hawkeye.

Then we see the scene in the mess tent where they all get mail (BJ gets three letters! what a family man). BJ notices Carrie getting upset and leaving the tent, and he follows her, while Hawkeye silently observes BJ getting up from the table and leaving.

We don’t see Hawkeye again until the mess tent the next morning, where BJ shows up and Hawkeye plays up the worried parent angle before saying this. Note his posture during this scene; he crosses his arms when BJ shows up and when he says the line below, he shifts ever so slightly closer to BJ.

When BJ says he was sitting up with a sick friend, Hawkeye gleefully says “tell me all about it”, still enjoying getting a rise out of BJ. And then Carrie shows up and it’s obvious to everyone that something happened between her and BJ.

I know other people have talked about this scene so I’ll try to be brief, but Hawkeye is suddenly more awkward than we normally see him.

Hawkeye: “Donovan, you look like a new woman! Not that there was anythingwrong with the old one.” Carrie: “Thanks, I feel better.” Hawkeye: “Well, why shouldn’t we all feel good? Our work is so rewarding. Always lending a helping hand. Doing unto others.” BJ: “Hawk, your mouth runneth over.” Hawkeye: “I'm just teasing. I mean, do I know what I'm saying? Whatever it is, I don't mean it. Should I go?” BJ: “Just stop talking.” Hawkeye: “I will as soon as I get my foot out of my mouth. I think I'll put it someplace else. Ah, I'm being paged at the pool! Well, you two carry on. [laughs nervously] Strike that. This is me leaving. Here I go. Bye. So long.”

Hawkeye flees the mess tent and we don’t see him again until the Swamp, where BJ is writing a letter to Peg about what happened. He shows up and makes himself a martini before sitting down to be the comforting friend that BJ needs him to be.

(btw: in trying to goad BJ into opening up, Hawkeye says, “Pour your heart out. I'm a doctor, I can fix it.” Which is a line that makes me go nuts but anyway.)

So BJ opens up to Hawkeye and vents about how he doesn’t want to be unfaithful to Peg! He loves his family and is lucky to have what he has! Hawkeye is, of course, soft and sympathetic.

He realizes BJ was busy when he came in and asks him about it, and is immediately outraged when BJ explains that he’s confessing to Peg.

Hawkeye then makes BJ take a vow: “I promise to be a good and faithful husband, to write nice, cheerful letters home, to think of Peg often, and to keep my fat hands off Nurse Donovan.”

and then makes a vow of his own: “I, Hawkeye Pierce, vow that some day, I will take a vow just like his.”

Then we come to another awkward Hawkeye moment, where he finishes making his little vow and throws on a scarf, saying he’s “a little late for a very important date”.

Idk but Hawkeye didn’t seem like he had any plans when he entered earlier, and I know the obvious Doylist answer is “well they didn’t really think this scene through and we are simply meant to assume Hawkeye is going on a date”. But to me, it comes across as though he’s once again uncomfortable about the whole situation and has to flee BJ’s presence again.

It’s interesting to see how Hawkeye was very much having fun teasing BJ with the theoretical idea of him being unfaithful at first, but when he realizes that it’s actually happened - that BJ is not infallible and can & will have sex outside of his marriage if he lets himself - Hawkeye becomes incredibly nervous.

To go full Beejhawk in my interpretation of this episode, it feels like Hawkeye has been harmlessly flirting with BJ and enjoying having an unattainable crush on his best friend, knowing nothing could ever happen. And when he realizes that BJ can be pushed to be unfaithful, it rattles him. He has BJ make that vow and then vows to make his own version of the vow BJ made (not even touching that) and that’s that. What's the point of this post? I don't know tbh but I had to dump these thoughts somewhere and I've already done enough shouting at my pals on Discord. TL;DR: Hanky Panky is a weak episode in terms of exploring BJ's brush with infidelity but it's so interesting to look at with Beejhawk goggles on.

#beejhawk #mash #m*a*s*h #hunnihawk #mashposting #hanky panky #typed a lot of this while walking + on the bus + missed my bus stop & had to walk more. so sorry if it's not as clear as it could be

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lees-chaotic-brain · 24 hours

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𝙵𝙰𝙺𝙴 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 (𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 𝙼𝙸𝚈𝙰 𝚇 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁)

summary: he overhears your friend saying something unkind

wc: 1.5k (oops this was supposed to be a drabble)

cw: mild swearing, reader has adhd, stigma against adhd

haikyuu masterlist | blog navigation

“...What makes you think I wouldn’t lose it? I have the worst case of ADHD anyone has ever seen, you seriously think I’d be able to keep track of it?”

Your lighthearted laughter as you teased your friend floated over the din of the cafe as Osamu entered it, there to pick you up. Unable to tamp down his lovesick smile at the sound of your voice, he immediately perked up when he spotted you and began heading over to where you were sitting with your friends.

You had a little bit of trouble controlling your volume, so he had been able to hear what you were saying earlier, but since then you had gone weirdly quiet. But as he made his way over to you, he became close enough to catch the tail end of what your friend said in response.

“...I mean come on. You can’t just blame everything on your ADHD. Like, when are you going to actually take responsibility for your problems instead of using it as an excuse as if half the population doesn’t have it?”

He didn’t have to see your face to know what your expression looked like. Just like every other time someone said something shitty like that to you, he knew that the hurt would only show on your face for a moment before morphing into a sarcastic and uncaring mask.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your voice had lost its boisterous joy from moments ago, and that alone made him want to storm over there and tear that girl a new one. Unfortunately he was well aware of the fact that you preferred to fight your own battles, and loathed feeling like you needed some man to come in and defend your feelings.

“I’m just saying.” Your friend rolled her eyes. “You’re so put together, and one of the most intelligent people I know. When are you going to stop using your ADHD as an excuse for your terrible work ethic?”

While the first part of what she said sounded deceptively nice, the hidden connotations in the barbed sentence did not go over his head, so it most certainly did not go over yours. Remembering all of the nights he spent holding you as you cried because someone had called you lazy, or told you that you could do it if you just tried, he made a mental note to himself to remind you of how amazing you are every day. As if he didn’t already.

“Wow.” Your voice had taken on a mocking, almost cruel tone. While most people overhearing would think you’re just being really nasty, he knew better. This was how you protected yourself. You pretended you didn’t care and mocked the person for their ignorance, then went home and asked him to hold you until your heart stopped hurting and the voices in your head stopped talking.

You took a slow, leisurely sip of your drink, before slamming the cup back onto the table with more force than necessary. “For someone who claims to have undiagnosed ADHD, you sure don’t know anything about it. Just so you don’t embarrass yourself in the future by spewing more bullshit like this, let me give you a few pieces of information.”

Leaning back in your chair, you began ticking off items on your fingers as you spoke.

“One. Telling someone with ADHD to “just focus” is like telling a person with glasses to just see better. We want to, but we can’t.” You level a pointed look at her glasses and Osamu notes with satisfaction that her face is beginning to get flushed with embarrassment. You continue.

“Two. A lot of people with ADHD are actually insanely smart. They have to be. People in classes like ours who have ADHD and struggle with paying attention and staying on task need to be intellectually gifted to survive in school. It’s the only way they can keep up. Which brings us to point three.”

The overly sweet smile you give your so-called “friend” tells him that you’re about to say something you’ll regret later, but he can’t bring himself to stop you because anyone who hurt your feelings deserved what was coming for them. If that made him a bad boyfriend then he didn’t really care. He would just comfort you later and tell you that you aren’t a bad person for putting a judgemental asshole in their place.

“Point three: don’t go around telling people that you have undiagnosed ADHD. Like I said before, people with ADHD typically need to be smarter than the others in their class to keep up, especially in an engineering major. Which is exactly why no one is going to believe you. Frankly, you’re just not smart enough. You’re barely hanging on as it is. If you really did have ADHD you would have flunked out by now.”

Checking the time on your phone you gathered your stuff and stood up. “Sorry. My boyfriend is probably here by now. Although, something came up. I think you’ll need to find your own ride back. Sorry.”

Surveying the area where you had sat, you double checked to make sure you had everything, pausing and looking back over your shoulder just as you were about to leave.

“Oh, and by the way.” You shoot her a saccharine smile. “I really appreciate you thinking that I’m really put together. Unlike my intelligence, that’s all an act, so I’m really flattered that you thought that about me. It means a lot.”

With that, you turned and came face to face with your boyfriend's chest, nearly falling on your ass. One of his arms wound around your waist, pulling you against him and keeping you upright while the other snagged your bag and threw it over his shoulder.

“Samu?!” You look up at him in surprise and he just smirks and guides you out of the restaurant. Once you’re in the privacy of his car, you speak again. “...How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to hear the bullshit she spewed.” You look down, pretending to pick at your nails, but he knows you’re just trying to hide the tears welling in her eyes.

“I really thought she was my friend.” Your voice is quiet and watery, completely different from the one you used with your friend just seconds ago in the cafe. “Maybe she’s right. I was probably too mean to her. I apologize to her-”

He was going to let you apologize, knowing that nothing he said would take away the guilt clawing at your insides, but then he saw the contact name.

“Her??” He pointed incredulously at the contact name. “The girl in there was her?? The one who was super mean to ya last year? I thought ya said ya weren’t friends with her anymore!”

Flushing, you tilt your phone away from him. “Well, I didn’t want you to worry. She got nicer, I swear.”

His eyes narrow. “Uh-huh. And what she said to ya back there definitely reflects just how much she’s changed.”

With a quick stretch of his arm, he snatched your phone out of your hand and slid it into his pocket, fending you off with one arm as he started the car and pulled out, causing you to cease your physical attempts at reclaiming your phone.

“Osamu Miya!! You give that back!! It’s not up to you who I’m friends with, and whether or not I apologize!”

“I know that.” He mumbles, keeping his eyes on the road. “I just don’t like seeing ya sad. And yer always sad when yer friends with assholes like her.”

“Oh, Samu…” Your voice softens and you take his free hand in your own. “I’ll be okay. Really. Honestly she’s probably trying to help me. She just wants me to fix what’s going on-”

“That’s exactly what I mean!” His knuckles turn white with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, but his grasp of your hand is nothing but gentle. “There’s nothing wrong with ya! She says shit like that and you believe her! Yer perfect the way you are, and I hate that you spend time with people who make you feel less than that! I don’t care who yer friends with. I just want them to treat you well. The way ya deserve.”

You deflate, your grip on his hand tightening and he sees you wiping your eyes out of his peripheral. “I know. I know you're right. Can we just...talk about this later? I just want to be sad right now."

'"Of course we can babe. We don't have to talk about it at all if you don't want to. I'm just not letting you apologize to her because she doesn't deserve it."

You laugh, and the sound does things to his heart. "I love you so much Samu. You know that, right?”

He squeezes your hand tightly, knowing that no matter what, the two of you would be okay because you had each other. “I know. And I love ya a million times more than that.”

taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight

#lee's brain writes #osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu x y/n #haikyuu fanfiction #fluff #i think??

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vasito-de-leche · 2 days

Note

a little prompt, if you don’t mind

what about mercenary!reader and symbiote!Pavia? it’s just Pavia’s ult/wolves kinda remind me of Venom and i think it would be fun to imagine him being something like Venom

;R1999 PAVIA - "under your skin"

Symbiote!Pavia x Mercenary!Reader 2.5k words body horror What you and Pavia have is nothing more than transactional—you need him to make a living, and he needs you alive to ensure a comfortable life. It's taken some time to get used to these changes, to share everything you have with him for the sake of convenience: your home, your food, your job. And most importantly, your body. Perfect symbiosis, or dysfunctional parasitism? You've yet to figure out where you two stand. One thing is clear, though; he's the best at getting under your skin.

i just want you to know that this prompt speaks to MY SOUL bc i love venom and pavia so fucking much. you dont understand how hard i think about the concept of a symbiotic relationship between symbiote and host. so I went extremely self-indulgent with this one <3

as usual, this is written to be read as platonic or romantic, whatever floats your boat!

Bang!

A clean kill.

The only reason you watch as the body drops to the ground is out of respect for the work you do, nothing else. You've done this a dozen times, and you will do it a dozen more -- the gun in your hand has become a reliable friend rather than a tool for mindless murder, its familiar weight a fleeting comfort in the tedious routine. A shame it came from the most annoying person you know.

Screaming ensues as everyone surrounding your target runs around in panic. You remain, eyes locked on the target. When someone moves their body, attempting to cradle that lifeless corpse, you see it; a bullet right between their eyebrows, the perfect shot.

You feel a tug, but it comes from within your chest cavity. Something squirms inside you, pulling you back, and you understand this as your cue to slide back into the shadows. It begins with a single step backwards, then another, until you feel the texture under your shoes shift -- what was once solid ground is now a dark, velvety mass, floating upwards and fading away like smoke. It licks at your ankles, providing an initially cold sensation that permeates your clothes, and then it continues upwards to your calves, your knees, your thighs. The gun slowly dissolves into slime, taking the shape of what you assume to be a hand, horrible and sticky fingers intertwined with yours, pulling you downwards.

By then, you feel that burning sensation, and then you're dragged into the abyss.

"That was a lousy shot."

A voice echoes in your mind, it is not your own. It feels like a thousand ants marching alongside your cranium. Or rather, what you assume to be your cranium -- in this current state, you can't separate yourself from the embrace of the void. The voice might as well reverberate all around you.

You scoff and insist. No, it was a perfect shot.

"Perfect my ass. You were off by 2 centimeters," the biting remark makes you clench your jaw. You don't reply. The voice does the same, it remains still, only a semblance of white noise, but you understand its silence as a smug victory.

Suddenly, vertigo takes hold of you. It only happens for a split second, always unannounced, but you know better than to brace yourself. Doing so, as you've learned, would only make you nauseous, dizzy and weak -- instead, you let go and the shadows gently coax you back into the light before dissipating in the air.

You find yourself in front of your apartment door, an odd and anticlimactic way of ending a productive day. What, no snack run today?

"Not feeling it today. So you either open the door on your own, or I'll do it myself. Get a move on."

Some of these threats tend to hold more water than others, but more often than not, they're just empty words and loud, useless barking. And so you've learned to ignore them all -- however, you feel a faint prodding inside your back pocket, like a tentacle in search of something. Right, your keys. The roll of your eyes and the slowness in your movements are the only means of rebellion you have against this annoying entity in your head, it continues to breathe down your neck, impatient as ever, until the door opens and you step into your safe haven.

"Finally! Guess there's some activity in that brain dead head of yours."

You're forced to make a bee-line for the kitchen and the fridge, puppeteered by a force much more stronger, much more ancient than every insignificant emotion you've ever felt: the damn parasite inside of you is hungry.

As you both scan the leftovers -- your leech of a roommate seeing through your eyes, smelling through your nose -- the voice returns, this time in a more playful tone, less grating than before.

"Scusi, what's with the silent treatment today?" You bite the inside of your cheek and it laughs at you. "Don't tell me, wolf got your tongue? Are you mad that I saw right through your poor, shitty technique?"

A suffocating presence crawls inside you, starting from somewhere below your rib cage and making its way upwards through your esophagus and trachea, shifting until you feel the prodding of cold, slimy fingers in your mouth. They are tasteless and you can still breathe, your body not even bothering to perceive this as an obstruction or an intruding force that must be coughed and spat out. They are careless in their movements, pinching the tip of your tongue and pushing against your clenched teeth in an attempt to get you to open up.

And the worst part is that this is nothing but a mocking gesture, you've come to understand this over the years. To you, this is no different than someone poking at your sides, childishly asking for your attention. You obediently open, enough for a single digit to slip out, one you recognize as the middle finger. It presses down on your lower lip.

And then you bite down, hard.

It dissipates instantly, it is absorbed back into your body through every inch of skin it makes contact with. There is a new sound in the back of your mind, one you weren't quite expecting. Your parasite laughs, amused, no trace of that usual condescending tone.

"Good, you still know how to use that petty mouth of yours. I don't have to worry about teaching you how to chew down your food."

This makes you stand up straight, turning your head and glaring at an empty space, where you assume this presence would manifest if it chose to stop taking residence in your body, "I'm not eating while you're still in there. If you want dinner, then get out."

There is a beat, a momentary silence. You don't give the parasite any time to bargain, "I'm serious. Use your own damn mouth if you're so hungry. I already have to do everything on my own, I'm not going to start spoon feeding you, too!"

The reply comes out faster than you expected.

"Fine."

For a moment, your vision doubles and your body feels like it's being painlessly torn apart. For a moment, you have two sets of eyes, two sets of arms, two sets of legs and two minds. You are both yourself and him, simultaneously. It is like someone is cutting your soul in half, shoving each part into two different bodies.

It is over in the blink of an eye, and there is a presence looming behind you, made from the same material that took you here, the same material that often travels in your veins and every other crevice, nook and cranny available between your organs and bones. The lights of your apartment flicker, and you take notice of his shadow cast over you.

His predatory gaze burns holes in the back of your head, and in the stillness of it all, you hear his steps, the sound his leather pants and the shifting of his shirt fabric as he steps closer -- until you feel his chest against your back. An arm slides into view, closing the door to the fridge and resting there, preventing you from escaping. It is decorated with all the useless, silver jewelry he's taken from your targets, a hand covered with tattoos you've often traced with your very own fingers in the past.

Oddly enough, you do not feel like prey. Not anymore. Your instinct tells you that you should, but truth be told, you could not care less. Especially when you feel his chin dig into the top of your head, his weight pressing lazily on you.

"…But in exchange, I'm cooking tonight. You got 10 seconds to get outta here." He shifts, and his cheek nuzzles into you as he yawns, like he's ready to move on from this conversation.

"Huh?" You slide from under him, finally looking at the parasite concealing as a man -- one you recognize as the bane of your existence, Pavia. "Uh, like hell I'm trusting you with the food! I've seen the stuff you put on your pizza."

"Like you're one to talk! You add too much salt to everything you make. If you wanted to ruin your liver, you should've just let me eat it from day one. 5 seconds left before I throw you out. C'mon."

"Do you even know how to cook? Any actual recipes that don't require winging everything?"

"Does pasta with a side of 'mind your fucking business or I'll make us eat rat poison' sound good to you?"

"I swear if you put anything funny in the food--…"

"Time's up. Out!" Pavia picks you up, manhandles you even, and tosses you out into the living room. As soon as you land on the couch, the door to the kitchen closes and you're left all alone.

It's easy to forget that you have no fucking clue as to who or what Pavia even is.

No last name, no records, no personal information at all. You've touched him before—he looks and feels just like any other person. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn he bleeds the same way you do. But there are times when that outer layer of normalcy is peeled back just enough to remind you what you're dealing with. Sometimes, the outline of his form darkens, as if the light around him couldn't affect him in any way, and his eyes go dark, so very dark.

You've seen him in this form, unhinging his jaw to uncomfortable degrees and revealing endless sets of saw-like fangs and teeth. His nails have grown longer, thicker and sharper than expected in many occasions. You would find those on the ground, like a wild dog who has never known, let alone needed, a trimmer.

And most importantly, you've allowed him entry to every pore of your body, every piece of cartilage, every muscle, every vein.

That's when you get a small glimpse into the eldritch monstrosity living under your roof—sometimes, he's a thick fog. Sometimes, he's an oozing pile of slime. Sometimes, he's the big, bad wolf. Sometimes, you can't even understand what you're looking at when he manifests in front of you. Regardless, you're certain of something.

Pavia is darkness, eternal and haunting as the night.

He is also a huge, ungrateful, bastard.

"Hey! Where'd you leave the gelato!? This freezer's a damn mess!" His voice is heard, muffled. It doesn't carry the same cadence and weight as it does when you hear it from within your mind. He sounds more annoying, in fact.

It's a strange experience, to have him coexist right beside you as if he weren't some sort of parasite, one hair away from eating your organs. But at least like this, he cannot read your mind nor attempt to puppet your body like a moron in broad daylight. You don't answer, fully aware that he's only trying to piss you off and lure you into another argument -- as if he'd ever lose sight of his precious dessert, anyway. Instead, you busy yourself with the usual routine; finishing what is left of your work, contact your employers and whatnot.

Soon enough, the kitchen door opens and Pavia slides into the room with a single plate of warm food. You look at him, eyes wide in indignation. Oh, he wouldn't …

"Huh? What, I thought you didn't trust me to cook, so I just made something for myself. There's some leftovers from your poor excuse of a lasagna, though." The smarmy expression plastered all over his face as he licks the sauce off his spoon is unbearable, and you rush to the kitchen either to find the biggest knife to drive into his chest or to resign yourself and eat those leftovers.

And then you see it, another plate resting by the counter. Full of delicious looking pasta.

Son of a bitch.

"Bring me some of that orange juice you bought yesterday while you're in there, yeah?" Pavia never gives you time to settle down, demanding your attention and your frustration time and time again, unable to form a single coherent thought nor opinion about him.

He's annoying, that's all you've been able to figure out so far.

He's annoying, and he's made a mess out of your kitchen to cook this meal for both of you. He's annoying, and stingy when it comes to sharing his favorite snacks and desserts, but he never attempts to steal your own. He's annoying, and he offers you a power beyond your wildest dreams, to get rid of inhibition and embrace the abilities of an eldritch beast. He's annoying, and he hogs all the fucking blankets at night, planting his cold feet against your legs or back to add insult to injury.

He's annoying, and he's calling out to you once more, telling you to hurry or else you'll miss "that one stupid show" you like, that he'll switch channels if you don't sit down with him to eat. You sigh. The nerve, the hypocrisy. You know the things he likes to watch -- he has no right to criticize your taste like this.

"I'm coming, calm down! Christ …"

You notice that he never lingers nor invades any of your usual places, always picking the same spots for himself, and this is ironic in every way possible given his fickle nature. There's no doubt that as soon as you two retire for the night, Pavia will make a show out of sliding back into your body, to rest with the warmth of your blood and the soothing rhythm of your heart. And you will tell him to fuck off and sleep on the couch, reminding him of that one time he got a little too comfortable, clutching your heart in his claws, causing you to believe you were having a heart attack. Then, morning will arrive, and you will find Pavia either sprawled out or gone, but never truly leaving you alone. You will feel him, that inky slime, both cold and warm in your veins. You will go to work, and you will return home to start all over again. This is the routine, one you stopped questioning a long time ago.

This parasite who gets under your skin, both figuratively and literally, is annoying. He's annoying when he teases you, forcing you to admit that he can cook a mean pasta. He's annoying when he laughs, loud and boisterous, at those stupid moments he often criticizes in all of your favorite shows. He's annoying when he gets clingy, using you as a pillow because he can't be bothered to reach out for one of the many other pillows scattered around.

He's so very annoying when he looks at you with a curious gleam in his eyes, obviously noticing the way you've chosen to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Time stands still as you simply look at each other, as you lose yourself in those bright, sharp eyes.

You stick out your tongue at him, and Pavia blows a raspberry at you. Sure, he might be plenty annoying on his own, but together you're both insufferable and unstoppable.

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 pavia #reverse 1999 x reader #pavia #dreamy sigh. i love overly complex relationships that can be interpreted in 20 different ways #yeah you hate each other. yeah you love each other. yeah you cant stand each other. yeah you cant literally live without each other #yeah hes your best friend. yeah hes the bane of your existence. and yeah youre his only lifeline. yeah youre the only one he trusts #love having relationships with The Eldritch tm #if some of this sounds suggestive its bc i love romantizicing body possession and body sharing and symbiotes theyre my favorite thing ever

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