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hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago

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Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?”

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice.

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder.

“Follow me little one.” The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient.

Fun.

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try.

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear.

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you.

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head.

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general?

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation.

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had.

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night.

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do.

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before?

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities.

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail.

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement.

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off. A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone.

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out.

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end.

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground.

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you.

“Oh dear. Trouble already?”

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away.

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest.

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing.

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened.

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable.

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked.

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold.

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking.

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply.

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words.

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap.

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open.

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem.

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip.

A doe.

The only doe he knew of in the hotel.

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

....always and forever,

....in yesterday.

....rusty cage

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him.

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology.

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck.

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar.

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him.

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless.

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern.

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face.

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you.

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip.

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal.

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe. His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest.

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.”

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him.

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you.

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up.

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus.

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you.

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place.

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body.

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were … inside you.

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass.

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole.

Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience.

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance.

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment.

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you.

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?”

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.”

With a blink, his eyes were black. His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start.

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct.

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body.

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly.

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes�� somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach.

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you.

Not a new sensation, but a different one.

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open.

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not.

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability.

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.”

Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been.

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising.

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck.

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties.

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord.

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.”

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him.

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core.

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected.

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not. You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth.

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression.

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet.

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late.

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together.

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about.

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used.

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble.

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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#alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel x reader #fanfiction #the radio demon #hazbin hotel fic

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rosyblooom · 7 months ago

Note

I just finished watching Daisy Jones and the Six and I wanted to ask if you could write a Charles SMAU where his wife passes away from illness and leaves a video behind for him to find happiness. They can have a little child together please. Thank you😊❤️

when i die, i want you to live | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: after battling illness, y/n unexpectedly succumbs to it much sooner than expected, leaving behind her husband and their daughter. 8 months later, charles is not coping very well, so your best friend hands him an envelope addressed to him from you. WARNING(S): mentions of death, sad A/N: ooh i love that show!! anyway, this is my first ever request (!!), so hope it's as u imagined 🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading!! <3

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: I sure hope so!😌 ] [ caption 2: my heart is so full🥹💕 ]

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 735,290 others

charles_leclerc Today, 27 years ago, is the very special day that brought me my beautiful wife and best friend. Forever grateful for that. Happiest of birthdays to you, Mon cœur ❤️

view all 3,958 comments

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N WE LOVE YOU😍

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(liked by author)

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yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourbestfriend and 263,719 others

yourusername had the loveliest birthday with my dearest people!💕thank you for all the birthday wishes, they've been such a joy! 🥹 here's to another beautiful year, here's to 27🥂

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yourbestfriend ily to the moon and back ❤️❤️

yourusername love u so much🥹

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charles_leclerc belle👸

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yourusername my girl 🤍

Three weeks later...

tmz_tv

liked by username, username, username and 1,005,862 others

tmz_tv Tragic news emerged in the early hours of this morning as Y/N L/N-Leclerc, a renowned fashion designer and philanthropist, passed away unexpectedly, just three weeks past her twenty-seventh birthday. Her untimely passing has left her family and friends in shock and disbelief.

In a statement released by her family, it was revealed that Y/N had been battling illness for an undisclosed duration. However, medical professionals had initially estimated a longer prognosis, making her sudden passing even more devastating.

During this profoundly sorrowful time, we extend our heartfelt condolences to Y/N's family.

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username wow and to think she was always so smiley even with all this going on behind the scenes

username a literal ray of sunshine🥹

username I can't imagine how charles feels right now omg, please take care charlie🫶

username this doesn't feel real...

username y/n was always working with charities all across the globe, she was an absolute angel. her impact will live on 💛

username is it just me who's thinking about their little girl in all this?? she must be so heartbroken :(

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username y/n, you were a great addition to the paddock, always smiling and just all around lovely to fans. we won't ever forget you!💕

username sending prayers to the family 🙏

scuderiaferrari

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scuderiaferrari Due to personal matters, Charles Leclerc will not be continuing racing for the remainder of the season. Ollie Bearman, our reserve driver, will take his place instead.

This was not an easy decision, and therefore we ask that you handle this news with respect and sensitivity.

Our thoughts and support are with Charles Leclerc and his family during this challenging time. 🙏❤️

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8 months later...

Charles enters the living room, ensuring the door closes softly behind him to avoid disturbing his little girl. Running his fingers over his beard, he examines the envelope in his hand and sighs. Y/N’s best friend pressed it into his hand at a dinner party the previous evening, insisting he watch it as soon as he finds the time. And here he is now, holding the thin envelope.

If someone had told him when he was younger that he’d get emotional over something as simple as seeing his wife’s handwriting on paper, he would have scoffed in disbelief. Not him, that would have seemed absurd. Yet here he is, feeling a lump form in his throat over mere black ink on paper.

As peculiar as it seems, he brings the envelope to his nose, and memories of Y/N flood his mind. He can almost feel her soothing touch as she works the knots out of his back after a gruelling day of racing. Inhaling, he feels Y/N’s sweet scent—it is as comforting as her smile.

A smile tugs at Charles' lips as he pictures that infectious grin that lit up his wife’s face at the most unexpected moments. It was one of the things he loved most about her—she had a way of bringing brightness to even the darkest of days.

Shaking his head, he snaps out of the trance, shifting deeper into the living room until he sinks into the welcoming embrace of the couch. There, he retrieves the laptop resting on the coffee table, feeling the weight of the moment as he opens the envelope and extracts a flash drive from within. Rolling it between his fingers, he inserts it into the side of his laptop with a determined motion.

Once all is in place, he watches a file labelled “To my dearest Lover, brightest Heart, and deepest Soul” materialise in his list of files. The sight catches him off guard—his throat constricts, making each breath a struggle, and his eyes well up, though he fights against the tears. Not now. He can't afford it. Allowing himself to be consumed by grief would mean losing precious time, time he needs for his daughter waiting in her playroom down the hallway.

He takes a moment to regain composure, squeezing his eyes shut, focusing on the rhythm of his breath until the tension in his chest begins to ease. With a sharp intake of air, he opens his eyes wide and taps the file, revealing a video. Running his teeth over his lower lip, he hovers the pointer over the play button, then taps the mousepad with a steady hand.

The video opens with Y/N seated on the very same pale couch he’s currently occupying. He places both hands onto the soft sofa, yearning for a connection, a way to feel her, even though he knows he can’t—touching the past is impossible.

Y/N walks toward the camera, readjusting it before taking three steps backward and retaking her seat. Inhaling deeply, she hesitates, her mouth opening, then closing again, like a fish out of water.

“Mon cœur,” Charles whispers, moving the laptop onto the coffee table.

“Hmm,” Y/N drops her hands into her lap and smooths down her flowery dress. She stares directly at the camera, tilting her head sideways with a crooked smile. “I don’t know where to start.”

Her eyes widen. “After all this planning, I still don’t know where to begin.” She lets out a few chuckles and then purses her lips. “Well, I suppose greetings are in order?”

Her expression softens as her brows furrow. “Hello, my darling, my world, my everything.”

“Hey,” Charles whispers, his throat tight with emotion, barely allowing sound to escape.

“Although I'm very happy to see you, if you’re watching this, it means you're not living as I want you to,” Y/N's voice trembles, causing her to pause and swallow. “I know it’s hard, baby. I don’t expect this to be easy on you, but I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life looking back at us in sadness, you know?”

Charles leans forward, elbows on his lap, eyes fixed on the screen, his face tinged with a faint shade of red.

“Remember our first date, when we had to cancel our reservations at that restaurant because you felt sick on the way there?” Y/N bursts into laughter but quickly stifles it, her hand covering her mouth.

“No, no,” Charles pleads softly, shaking his head, “please don’t hide your beautiful smile, my love.”

“It’s not like there was anything you could do about being sick, but I remember feeling miffed because I already had a stressful day, so for you to cancel just like that, it irritated me,” she reminisces with a nod. “But you were quite pale, so I wanted to make sure you got home alright. And we walked, barely talked,” she giggles, the joy reaching her eyes, “but then this little kid appeared, his name was…”

“Benny,” they both say simultaneously, a faint smile tugging at one corner of Charles' lips.

"Boy, was he excited to meet you, his idol. It was like seeing a completely different person. You became someone entirely new for this little boy whom you didn’t even know. Nobody forced you to take time out of your day when he came running, his arms wide open," Y/N says, extending her arms along with the words. "You could’ve just walked away. I mean, you had a reason to: you were sick."

Pausing for a moment, Y/N sits up straighter, leaning forward and shaking her head. "But you didn’t. You put on a brave face, and you turned into Benny’s hero and so much more. I think we stood there with his parents for about half an hour, and you didn’t complain once. And that’s when I knew."

Y/N nods, crossing her legs and slinging one hand behind the sofa. "That’s when I knew you could be the man I was going to marry. And turns out you were," she says, smiling sheepishly. "The love you have for people, for our daughter, it’s… it’s so profound, it’s boundless. So don’t limit it. Don’t you dare limit yourself just because I’m not around anymore."

Her expression turns serious as she exhales. “You’re such a bright light. You bring happiness and purity into people’s lives—into my life,” Y/N presses her hand against her chest. “I don’t want you to dim it. I want you to shine for as long as that candle burns. Don’t let it die prematurely because of bad happenings. There’s so much more to love, to live, to enjoy. And while you may not see me at your side anymore, holding onto D/N, I’m right here.”

Charles sniffles, folding his hands over his mouth as he swallows his sobs, while Y/N points to her heart.

“I’m with you forever and always. I’m protecting you and D/N, and I’m watching over you, making sure everything’s alright.” Y/N releases a sigh before chewing at her bottom lip with a wistful smile. “And part of that means making space for more love, for you. You have a big heart, you know? There’s enough room for you to find happiness with someone new. There’s no shame in it, and there’s no guilt in it. It’s what makes being alive such a beautiful thing: your love is yours, and it’s not confined to just one or two people. You can spread it, and still, our love will remain unchanged.”

Tears stream down the sides of Charles' cheeks as he struggles to maintain his composure, his eyes fixated on the screen as if afraid that if he peels his gaze away for one second, his wife will disappear.

Y/N briefly looks off to the side, her attention seemingly caught by something in the room, before snapping her head back to the camera with a bright smile.

“It seems I have to go,” her shoulders sink.

Charles leans forward, the screen mere inches away from his face, as he strokes the outline of Y/N’s face on the screen, whispering desperately, “Please don’t, mon cœur…”

“I love you so, so much. You and D/N are the most precious gifts, the greatest joys I have had the privilege to experience, so please, please,” she claps her hands together, moving them back and forth, “please…when I die, I want you to live.”

Y/N rises from the couch and walks towards the screen, her eyes unwavering for even a moment. “Give my little girl all my love, and kiss and hug her extra tight for as long as you can, for me.”

Offering one final smile, she blows a kiss at the screen. “I love you. Please don’t stop. Don't stop loving and don't stop living.”

The video freezes with Y/N frozen in place, a beautiful smile etched onto her lips, filled with the purest form of love.

Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, Charles collapses, the weight of the world pressing down on him. He drops his face into his hands and releases all of it: sob after sob after sob. There’s something liberating about finally letting go; the burden pours out of him, leaving behind a fragile yet tranquil Charles as he gazes at the still shot of his beloved wife, whom he adores so deeply.

A soft click draws his attention to the door just in time for it to creak open slowly, revealing his little girl standing there, her favourite yellow teddy bear clutched tightly in her arms.

“Papa,” her voice floats like a gentle breeze.

Charles smiles, opening his arms wide as she runs towards him. He's momentarily winded as she reaches him, but he quickly regains his composure and lifts her onto his lap.

“Hello, my love,” he whispers, touching his forehead to hers.

Her tiny hand pats his cheek, her expression filled with concern. “You’re crying?”

Charles shakes his head, trying to reassure her. “Happy tears,” he explains, “look.” He points at the screen, where Y/N's serene face is frozen in time.

“Maman!” D/N exclaims, slipping from his lap and heading towards the screen. Her small hands tap the screen eagerly as she calls out, “Maman! Maman! Maman!”

“Yes,” Charles swallows, ignoring the pang in his chest as he shifts his focus to his little girl. “You want to see Maman, huh?”

He rises from the sofa and lifts D/N into the air, settling her on his hip. “How about we go take a look at the photo albums, okay? There are lots of beautiful pictures of Maman in there, alright?”

“Maman! Maman! Maman!” D/N continues to exclaim, squirming excitedly in his arms as they walk through the door and down the hallway into the living room.

f1gossipofficial

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f1gossipofficial Nine months after the tragic passing of his wife, Y/N, Charles Leclerc has been spotted for the first time on a beach in Spain with their shared daughter.

Witnesses who captured the photographs above mentioned that he appeared to be coping well, and fans respectfully gave them space while appreciating the sight from afar.

We're glad to see Charles out and about again, and we extend our best wishes to him and his family as they continue to navigate these changes.

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username im so glad the fans kept to themselves

username right?? so respectful🫶

username charlie🥹❤️ it's been so long but we'll always be here whenever he's ready

username tbh I was very worried during the radio silence but I think him being out there is a step in the right direction🥲

username still can't believe y/n is no longer here... i miss her sm😭

username omg there's a vid on twitter of them playing ball and u can hear their daughter giggling 💕

username I can't find it could you pls send the link?🙏 username dmed u! username me too pls

username it must be so hard to grief y/n while also trying to be strong for their daughter :( sending him all the strength!!

username 😭😭😭

4:44 ────────────ㅇ 4:44

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hellvcifer · 7 months ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Hazbin Hotel x sad reader. Where the reader is just lying in their bed and hasn’t came out their room. And the Hazbin characters tries to give them comfort. If your not comfortable writing this then that’s totally fine 💗

RECLUSE— ଘ fic

pairing :: hazbin hotel residents x gn!reader wc :: 2.7k note :: hi there! i hope this is what you were looking for and brings you some comfort if you're feeling down. i wasn't sure which characters you were looking for specifically so i did a little of each for the main hotel crew. warnings :: reader is sad, isolation and pushing people away

“Good morning!” Charlie shouted, hands thrown in the air, a giant grin plastered on her face. “I have the per~fect morning planned for us. First, we’ll do our daily affirmations in our friendship circle, then we’ll try the trust fall exercises–this time without the egg boys–” her face wilted at the memory. Poor Tucker. “And then!” She immediately went back to her peppy-self, “I thought we could bake cookies!” She glanced at everyone who sat in the lounge area.

“Uh, we’re missing one.” Angel spoke, his body splayed across one of the couches as he casually scrolled through his phone.

“Y/N hassn’t come down yet.” Sir Pentious added, a few of the egg boys walking around him, seemingly playing a game.

“Oh!” Charlie looked confused for a moment, “Well, uh, that’s okay!” She walked over next to her girlfriend and sat down on the open seat of one of the couches. “We can wait.”

“I’m sure they’ll be down shortly.” Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s bouncy thigh to help ease her pent up excitement for the activities she had planned. All was fine until a few more minutes passed. Then those few minutes turned into thirty. Then thirty turned into an hour. Charlie and Vaggie shared a look.

“I’ll uh,” The princess stood, “I’ll just go check on them! To make sure everything is okay.” She nervously smiled before making her way to the stairs, Vaggie followed closely behind to accompany her.

“I’m sure everything’s perfectly fine.” She did her best to calm the blonde.

“You’re right!” Charlie smiled. “They probably just slept in a little. Nothing to worry about!” Once they reached your door, Charlie cleared her throat, adjusting her posture before knocking. A few raps of her knuckles on the dull door and nothing was heard in response. “Uh, Hello~! Wakey-wakey, Y/N!” A couple more knocks. “Are you in there?” Her question was hopeful though she couldn’t help the slip of concern. You had always been on time, happily participating in her exercises, and helping around the hotel. It was increasingly odd to not see you around. “Maybe they’re not at the hotel?” She turned to Vaggie.

The girl shook her head. “No one saw them leave.” The answer only caused Charlie to huff in a pout.

“Okay then.” She stood straight, eyes glimmering with determination. “If they won’t come out, then we’ll just go in!” She reached for the knob and grasped tightly.

“Wait, Charli–” The door was locked. She wiggled it a few more times, thinking maybe it was just stuck. The jostling grew more and more louder as she continued to try to open it. “Charlie, okay wait, stop.”

“Go away!” A muffled voice called from behind the door causing them both to pause. Your muffled voice.

“Y/N?” The blonde called out. “Uh, are you okay?”

“Please, just…” Your tone quieted. “Just leave.”

“Okay but I rea~lly think you should open the door! And we can talk! Or…” She nervously looked around, trying to come up with something. “Or~! you could join everyone downstairs! And we can, uh… We can…” She trailed off, eyes flitting to Vaggie.

“Maybe we should just give some space.” She suggested and Charlie sighed in response. Her head drooped.

“Yeah, okay.” They walked off, with more questions than answers, and worried expressions.

“I’m sure after today, things will be back to normal. Okay?” Vaggie side hugged Charlie.

Inside your room you laid in your bed. Everything felt heavy, swallowed up in darkness. You let the blankets cocoon you in their warmth as you lie there, unmoving. Unmotivated. Drowning in the gray clouds of your mind. Surely, a few days like this and you’d be out of your funk.

Nothing really put you there to begin with but you felt yourself becoming low-spirited over the past week. That morning, you knew it was impossible to get out of bed. You sunk further and further into the springed mattress, the lumps now cradling you and your sorrows. You heaved out a deep breath. Just a few days. And maybe, this dark storm will have passed.

“It’s been four days!” Charlie worriedly paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. “And after all we’ve been through together I think it’s time we step in!”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Sweetie.” Vaggie stood up, walking closer and placing a comforting hand on her girlfriend's shoulder. “When you ask to be left alone, sometimes you just gotta leave them alone.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m with toots over there.” Angel gestured to Charlie, walking over with a drink in his hand. “I get wanting to shut out for a few days but not this long.” He leaned on the back of the couch.

“Perhapss they’re in need of ssome assistance?” Pentious’ tongue peaked out to end his words.

“Good idea, boss!” One of his egg boys shouted from the ground.

Charlie’s face lit up, eyes widening upon hearing his words. “It’s a GREAT idea!” She turned towards everyone, hands held out in excitement.

“No, Charlie!” Vaggie grabbed both her hands. “We already tried that and got told to leave.”

“Yeah, but that was you two.” Husk added, “And we know how you like to handle things.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolled his eyes, “It means you don’t know how to read the situation.”

Vaggie was glaring at him fiercely when Angel straightened his back, “You know what, Kitty’s right.” He got closer. “Why don’t we try our hands at talking. Figure something from us might make ‘em feel better.”

“But the door’s locked.”

“Eh,” Angel waved his two right hands. “We’ll get 'em to open it.” He began walking to the stairs, Husk close behind him.

“And how exactly are we supposed to do that?” Husk asked.

“Oh, I got an idea.” He flashed a look before leading the bartender to his room. He made a short pit stop to pick up fat nuggets and then they made it to your room. A few knocks on your door and they were only answered with silence.

“Hey Y/N~!” Angel called out. “You know, it’s been so lonely without you around and I have someone here that’s been dying to see you!” As if on queue, nuggets made two cute squeals of delight.

“Really?” Husk narrowed his eyes at Angel. “You’re bribing them with the pig?”

Angel snapped to look at him. “Hey! Everyone loves this pig!” He sharply spoke in a low tone.

“Leave me alone!” They both snapped to stare at your door.

“We brought booze?” Angel tried again, suggesting Husk’s bottle of whiskey. Which may not have been the best idea considering the slow turn the cat gave him. Entirely offended with his mouth open.

“I don’t want your stupid cheap alcohol!” Why… You rolled your eyes, turning away from the door, Why! “Or your pig!” Why are you saying these things? “Just go! Away!” Your chest was filled with an abnormal pressure as you threw the blanket over your head, water brimming your eyes. You muffled the sobs into your pillow. Why are you feeling like this?

Angel and Husk left defeatedly, entering the lobby similar to how Vaggie and Charlie did the first time. Husk went behind the bar, not wanting to talk and Angel laid down on the red couch.

“Well?” Charlie almost knew the answer already but hoped for something better.

“Got nothing.” Angel moped. “Bribed ‘em with Nuggets and booze.” He turned to look at the group. “Nothing’ll work if we can’t get passed the door.”

“Then we must bring the show inside!” The radioed voice was cascading throughout the room as he appeared in the lounge area. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, he crossed his legs. “Sometimes a little jazz is all you need to reignite the light.”

“Oh no! No, no, no!” Vaggie was quick to stand in, “We can’t just invade their privacy!” She turned to the group. “I care for Y/N as much as all of you, but sometimes you need to respect them wanting space.”

“But aren’t you two the oness telling uss to be there for our friendss?” Pentious asked. “How can we comfort them by giving them sspace?”

“It’s called boundaries.” Her hands assisted the assertion of her words.

“Uh, Yeah, boundaries.” Angel mocked, “Smiles is gone by the way.” He pointed to the now empty seat as everyone snapped their heads to it. Vaggie slapped her hands to her face, letting out a frustrated groan.

Charlie nervously laughed before clasping her hands together. “Oh no.”

Alastor rose from murky obsidian shadows, revealing his everlasting sinister grin. His eyes slid over to the bed, brow raised once he saw a cluster of blankets. He spun his mic, walking over and waving his hand. The unused fireplace was suddenly lit and crackling, causing you to jolt.

“The fuck–?”

“Why Hello!” The sudden radioed cadence was all you needed to hear. You rolled your eyes. “Closing away like this is no way to present yourself!” He leaned forward. You noticed the soft soothing trill of jazz in the background, no doubt brought on by the man beyond your blanket barrier. “Where’s the joy in being locked away in this room?”

“Will you just–” You hastily uncovered yourself and sat up. “Get out!” The glow of the flames flickered against your skin as you sought out the intruder.

“Don’t you look swell!” His incessant grin was accompanied with an overt blink. You groaned, forcefully lying back down in a huff against your pillow. Glared glued to the ceiling.

“Why can’t anyone understand that I want to be left alone!”

Alastor walked over to the fire, a chair and an end table appeared with a cup of coffee. He took a seat and grabbed his cup. “Why be alone when there’s so much to do outside!”

You released a heavy sigh. “What’s the point…” Your voice came out in a strained whisper. Throat knotting as you struggled to swallow away your swollen tongue.

Al took a sip from his mug, “My my, what a depressing thing you are! I’m nearly getting flashbacks.”

“Alastor…” You felt your eyebrow twitch, “With every single drop of the draining patience I have left. Get. The fuck. Out.”

Your words had zero effect on him, “But I’m here to help, my friend!”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re saying you’re here because you care?”

He laughed, “Oh dear, no!” He set his drink down and stood up, “Being a witness to you drowning in your sorrows is quite entertaining.”

You turned your head to look at him, “Then why are you here?”

“I’m merely a parrot to our constituents! The worry over your newfound reclusion has become the talk of the town! I wanted to see it for myself.” He walked closer. “But by all means, continue your isolation! Watching the others scurry about with concern and become defeated time after time again is delightful! It’s not as if it’s hurting anyone…” His eyes slid towards you, his smile filtering to that of a smirk. “Including yourself.” He melded into the floor, the fire and music extinguishing with his exit.

Now alone in the thickened darkness, the silence of your own thoughts gnawing into the corners of your mind. Hurting. Were you really hurting them? That wasn’t anything close to what you wanted. Staying in your room. Locked away. That was supposed to be the solution until you felt better. Somewhat better. Just… Different than how you were feeling now.

But the days don’t feel different at all. If anything, the mucky feeling only cemented itself further within your chest. You felt it begin to sink, the thought of everyone trying to break through to you brought that welling feeling back. And you just yelled at them. You yelled at the only people trying to show you kindness.

The tears pooled over the edge, racing down your face. Everything released from within, the melancholic storm brewed over the past few days erupted. Your thunderous cries echoed throughout the dark room.

After a few more whales you finally simmered down to a low whine, taking deep breaths to relieve yourself. It wasn’t a cure-all but you were finally able to gain some bearings. You grabbed your blanket and stood up, wrapping it around your figure. That damn radio head may have had a point after all. You released another long-winded breath and began making your way to your door.

The hallway walls were a sight for sore eyes, you pupils dilating as soon as you stepped out of your room. The heavy feeling in your lungs felt like it was building once again as you journeyed to the lobby. What would you say to them? Would they even want to talk to you? You stopped walking. What if they’re mad at you? You closed your eyes, shaking your head before continuing. You committed to this. No backing out now.

You finally made it to the top of the stairs that descended into the lobby. The blanket around your body felt like it was nearly constricting you with how tight you had it pulled. You sniffled quietly, eyes scanning the area and finally seeing them crowded around the old TV for movie night.

Shuffling closer, you found that watching your feet take each small step closer made you less scared to address them. As soon as Vaggie caught sight of you, she paused the movie, elbowing Charlie and nodding towards you. Everyone soon followed her line of sight.

The silence signaled it was finally time to say something. An overwhelming heat pulsed throughout your body, ending within your cheeks.

“I…” the tears began bubbling the rim of your eyes. “I don’t know why I said those things. I don’t k-know why I’m feeling like this. I just feel… I feel sad, and I don’t know why!” Everything broke once again, large drops cascading down your cheeks endlessly as you began to cry. You used your blanket to wipe away the trails.

Charlie and Angel stood up immediately, coming to your side and embracing you. “It’s okay, Y/N.” The blonde softly consoled. “You don’t have to be happy all the time! And you never need a reason to be sad.”

“Sometimes, we just feel sad. And that’s okay.” Angel spoke, his voice mellow and comforting. “Just share the sadness with us so you’re not alone, okay?”

“Yeah, and we’re always going to be here for you.” Vaggie stood and took a few steps closer.

“Come now,” Alastor gestured with his hand. “Join us while we continue watching this terrible picture show!”

“Yess! Come, come.” Pentious patted the middle seat of the couch as everyone awaited your answer.

A surge of warmth blossomed throughout your body as you stared at them. Ever so gently, your lips pulled upward as you slowly nodded. They returned it before directing you to sit. Angel sat on the other side of you while Charlie returned to sit down with Vaggie and Niffty.

Pentious bent down to the ground and scooped up three of his egg boys and held them close. He leaned over to you, holding one out as an offer. Simon, the egg boy, opened his arms up towards you, awaiting to be held. You gently cradled him against you and smiled.

“This feels much better.” Charlie hummed, cuddled up with Vaggie. Your head fell onto Angel’s shoulder as you released a sigh. Even though you aren’t feeling a hundred percent all the time, at least you're surrounded by those who care about you.

A beamy eye popped into your line of sight. “I made you this.” Niffty shot out her hand, a dead roach was disassembled and strung into a necklace. You flashed a strained smile. It really was the thought that counted.

“Thanks, Nifft.” She flitted back to her spot with a happy giggle and hearing it made you sigh in content. You glanced around the room, seeing everyone watching the movie.

Yeah, this really was much better.

likes and reblogs appreciated !! ♡

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #charlie morningstar x reader #angel dust x reader #vaggie x reader #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel x gn!reader

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lovecla · 2 months ago

Text

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter six:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 4.1k

➴ author’s note: thought it’d be great to give u guys jack’s pov please don’t kill me—or jack. also wanna say thank you to each one of you who take the time to read this series and give me your thoughts abt it. i cannot thank you enough. pls be patient with jacky, he’s just a boy :p nice reading yall!!!

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sophiamontenegro 'rip to my feelings' is out now 🪄 i want to start this by saying thank you to everyone who helped me make this dream of mine come true.

all of the songs here mean the world to me, and i truly hope they help to heal some of you, like they healed me. please, don't let anyone make you feel like you don't deserve good things. you do, all of us do.

thank you grace, thank you john, thank you hannah, a special thank you to charlieputh and a huge thank you to all of you.

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charlieputh You’re a genius and it was my pleasure 💙 congratulations, Soph!

morgan.grace I love you so much I might turn into a puddle. Soph, you’re one of the strongest, sweetest people I’ve ever met and I’m so grateful to call you my best friend. I watched you put so much effort and energy into this, and i am proud. Happy RTMF day 🪦

billboard I am crying, you’re crying, all of us are crying.

user1 i knew this was going to hurt but DAMN Girl what the hell

user2 it’s been hours and I’m still crying because of this goddamn music video. And i HATE charlie puth

user3 user2 NO GIRL BC SAME?? it’s so SAD

user4 Harris Dickinson if i fucking catch you on the streets you’re DONE

user5 off topic but do you guys think any of these songs were written for jack hughes…

user6 user5 honestly no,, soph said this album has been in the making for one year and apparently they just broke up last week?

_quinnhughes Congrats, Soph 👍

sophiamontenegro _quinnhughes thank u, quinny

user43 @sophiamontenegro @_quinnhughes CHAT WHAT DOES THIS MEAN???

— ♡

“HUGHES, the hell was wrong with you today?” Keefe’s voice sounded harsh and angry.

Even though there were two Hughes in the team, everyone knew who the coach was referring to.

“It’s just not a good day,” Jack mumbled, removing his uniform and not bothering to look up.

The locker room was dead silent, so everyone heard Keefe’s scoff. “Not a good day? More like not a good week,” he stepped closer, hands on his hips. “You’ve been off for the entire week and let me tell you something, son, we’re not making it to the Finals with you playing like you did tonight.”

Jack wanted to talk back so bad but deep down he knew Coach was right. He had been playing like shit, ever since that night at your house.

You. Just thinking about you made Jack feel like straight up shit. Something that never happened before.

He is handsome, he has thousands of fans. People paid to watch him play, people wore his jersey proudly. He could have any girl he wanted but still. Everything changed at that dinner, six months ago, when he saw you performing up close for the second time.

At that moment, he was mesmerized by you. Back then, he thought he was just horny and in the need of a good fuck but looking back now he knows that it wasn’t just that. It was something bigger than himself, yet something he couldn’t name.

“I get it, Coach,” Jack muttered, putting on his suit.

“I hope you do, kid, otherwise, you can just say goodbye to your NHL career and the Stanley Cup.” Coach barked before getting out of the locker room.

Ignoring the stares he was getting, Jack moved on autopilot, like he’d been doing the entire week, shoving his things inside his duffel bag and frowning.

“Cap, wanna go out and grab some drinks? I wanna get wasted!” Someone, Jack didn’t care to know who, shouted, talking to Nico.

“‘Can’t today, man,” Nico answered, duffel bag already on his shoulder. “I’m going to a concert tonight.”

That caught Jack’s attention, pulling him back from his thoughts.

“Concert?” He asked, looking at how everyone went quiet and stared at Nico. “Whose concert?”

“Well, you see…” Nico stuttered and somehow, even if he hadn’t said anything, Jack knew exactly whose concert it was. “Just. A singer?”

“Yeah, no shit is a singer, Hischier, I thought we went to concerts to watch electricians doing their shit,” Jack bited back, the frown just bigger now. “Whose concert, Cap?” He said the word like he was mocking Nico and even though he wanted to take that back, he didn’t. Nico was an amazing person and it wasn’t his fault you didn’t want anything to do with Jack anymore.

“Hum, well—”

“For fuck’s sake, man, just spit it out,” Bastian said, rolling his eyes. “We’re going to Soph’s concert. Launching party, whatever.”

“We?” Jack’s eyes doubled in size. “Who else is going?”

“She invited the entire team,” Mercer answered, and Jack could swear he was one step away from passing out. “And Zegras.”

“Yeah, the entire team minus you!” Zegras shouted, clearly not reading the room. None of the players said anything about your and Jack’s situationship-break-up but Trevor made it clear he was happy with the situation. “Zegras is out in the hunt again, baby, ‘gonna give Soph the real D!”

Jack didn’t even notice he moved until he felt a heavy hand on his chest, looking down and realising it was Nico’s hand and he was now toe to toe with Trevor.

“Watch the shit you say, Zegras. I’m not fucking with you.” Jack spoke slowly, eyes not leaving Zegras’.

“Like you’re going to do anything, Hughes. You lost the prize, now it’s time for her to know what a real man is.”

Jack stepped foward again, only to be stopped by Nico’s hand.

“She’s not a fucking prize and this is not a fucking game, asshole,” Jack said through his teeth, ready to punch Trevor right there and now.

“How old are you two?” Hischier hissed, separating Jack and Trevor like a dad would do. “Trevor, shut the fuck up and don’t talk about Soph like that. And you,” he looked and Zegras before looking at Jack again. “You can’t and you won’t do shit. You and Sophia aren’t a thing anymore and there’s no one to blame but yourself. Suck it up, Hughes.”

Jack wanted to punch all of them in their fucking faces. It wasn’t his fault! He wasn’t the one who published the article and he wasn’t the one who sent that fucking picture of him and Ava leaving that party.

So what if she was his ex? That was in the past. He didn’t even remember her name, for fuck’s sake. She meant nothing to him while you—

“Whatever,” Trevor shrugged, before leaving the room.

“Hischier,” Jack called before Nico left. He turned back and stared at Jack, eyes tired. Jack felt bad for acting like that and giving even more trouble to Nico but Trevor was a fucking assface. “I need to go to that concert.”

“Unless you have an invitation or a ticket, I can’t take you there, man.” He bit his lips. “I’m sorry, but I won’t do that to Soph.”

Jack hated how Nico was clearly choosing sides and he also hated how he said her name and how everyone seemed very comfortable with calling you Soph but he pretended that he didn’t care.

“I’m not going to talk to her, I just…” his lips formed a straight line. He wasn’t sure of what he wanted exactly, but he needed to see you. Ever since your album had been released, he had been playing it nonstop, trying to memorize every breath you took, every line you sang, every beat you produced. He just needed to see you. “I want to see her.”

“Man, you know I can’t do that. Grace will kill me.”

“I’ll deal with her, Hischier, I swear,” in that moment, Jack was glad everyone else had already left, otherwise it’d be humiliating.

Although he noticed, with shock, that he wouldn’t mind begging in front of people if he got the chance to see you.

Nico ran his hands through his hair, muttering something in German before nodding with his head once.

“Fine, but I swear to God that if you upset Grace or Soph or worse, both,” he got closer to Jack’s body, looking like he did when he was on the ice. Terrifying. “I’ll personally make sure you won’t do that ever again.”

Gulping, Jack nodded once, before following Nico.

— ♡

THE line outside the venue was gigantic, making the men inside the van yell and whistle.

Much to Jack’s dismay, all of the Devils who were your fans had been invited to your concert— except him, of course. Which he thought was really, really shitty, by the way— and they were all excited, wearing shirts with your face on it and holding banners with your name.

Jack had to wear an all black outfit, with a cap hiding his hair and sunglasses. He thought he looked ridiculous but unfortunately, Nico was right: you couldn’t see him. He knew that if you did you’d be upset and the last thing he wanted was to ruin your night and concert. So yeah, hiding himself it is.

They left the van, entering the building from the back entrance, not wanting to cause a commotion out there in the front. Jack had been told this was just a small concert but the place looked packed with people.

“Okay, so,” Nico started, wearing his Captain belt once again. “Grace will be here in a second, and she will give us the VIP necklaces so we can go to our sets,” he turned around, facing Jack. “I honestly don’t know what to do with you. Grace will probably kick you out but at least I did my part.”

Jack just nodded, already thinking of millions excuses he could say to Grace so she would say yes.

True to Nico’s words, Grace showed up not even a minute later, wearing a red, tight dress and heavy makeup. She looked beautiful.

“Hi, fellas!” She walked in, smiling brightly. “Nice seeing you all, Soph will be happy with you being here and— what the fuck are doing here?” Her smile was gone, and now the only thing left was a scowl on her face.

Jack smiled awkwardly.

“Grace, listen, he asked me to bring him here because he wanted to see Soph—” Nico started, only to be interrupted by Grace’s harsh words.

“I don’t give a single fuck, Nico, what the hell!” She was starting to leash out on Hischier so Jack knew he had to say something.

“She’s not going to see me, I promise,” he replied.

Grace laughed. “Of course she isn’t going to see you because you’re going to leave!”

“Grace, come on,” Jack muttered, ready to beg to another person just to see you. Fucking shit. “I can sit in the back, there’s like a thousand people outside. She won’t see me.”

“Baby,” everyone looked at Nico as he approached Grace. Jack frowned. Since when were they together? “I told him that if he did anything bad I’d punch the shit out of him myself. He will behave.”

“I’m not a dog—”

“Fine,” Grace sighed, loudly, already looking like she regretted saying yes. “Nico I swear that if Sophia sees him or if someone takes any pictures of him here, I’ll snatch your dick out of your body.”

All of the men there made an ouch sound, faces amused and terrified. Nico only nodded, after giving Jack the scariest look ever.

Grace gave them their badges and asked for another one for Jack. Everyone there was running around and shouting things, probably all worried about everything being perfect, and Jack found himself smiling because you were surrounded by people who cared about you and your work.

Turns out that sitting in the back really meant sitting in the back, because Grace gave Jack a really shitty seat that despite being small as fuck, had a really good view of the stage, even if it’d be impossible for you to spot him.

Jack’s hands were sweaty and his heart was racing in his chest. The place was packed with all different types of people, from children to adults, and some grandparents here and there.

He was proud. He remembered how excited you were for this album, for this little concert, and watching how you’ve managed to ace all of that, made him smile under his hand.

The rest of his teammates were sitting in the VIP section, really close to the stage, and hell if Hughes didn’t envy them. But he knew this was for the best.

Thirty minutes after he sat down, the lights dimmed and only the stage was on. The screams were so fucking loud and if Jack wasn’t already used to people screaming his ears off during games, he’d probably have a fit right there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Sophia Montenegro.”

Nothing could ever prepared Jack for the sight of you on that stage. It’d been two weeks since you last saw each other and the last time was awful, his heart hurting every time he remembered the sight of you crying and remembering he was the reason why.

But watching as you stood on top of some kind of platform, wearing a black, glittery body suit, with heels and black, see through socks. Your hair was styled in a way that drove him absolutely crazy, and now he wasn’t so sure that coming to this concert was a good idea after all.

“One year, ten thousand bad moments

But it was dressed up in heated emotion

And I tried to look for the best in the worst

But like, fuck me, that caused a commotion.”

Your voice was perfect, of course it was. Somehow, you knew how to sing live even better than the recorded songs, and your stage presence was out of this world. Jack looked at you as you moved around, singing and dancing and waving at people and interacting with the band, not knowing what to do with the weight on his chest.

He was happy to see you, he really was, happier than he’d felt in this entire week, but fuck if he wasn’t hurt. Watching you from afar was even worse than not watching you at all, because he was reminded again and again that he lost you.

Even if he still thinks it wasn’t exactly his fault.

The crowd was loud, people were dancing here and there and Jack could swear the girl in front of him was crying.

“Oh, you're so vicious

Love me, then pretend you didn't

Crush my heart and wreck my image

Why you gotta be so, so, so

Oh, you're so vicious”

You were sitting in the middle of the stage, microphone in your right hand, singing with your whole heart. Anyone could see how alive you felt whenever you sang and honestly, it was beautiful to witness.

The song continued, and every second Jack was taken aback by how beautiful you were. So fucking beautiful. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, inside and out, full of life and happiness and joy.

He only noticed that the song had ended when he heard people cheering louder than they were before, and he started to pay attention again.

There you stood, in the middle of the stage, trying to even your breath. You were smiling so hard, cheek to cheek, eyes shining so bright even Jack in his shitty ass seat could see it.

“Hi, guys,” you were out of breath but your voice still sounded like honey to Hughes’ ears, and he had missed the sweetness. So. Much. “Oh my god, there’s so many of you in here, what the hell.”

People laughed, and Jack found himself smiling.

“Hi, I’m Sophia,” you said, shyly, like the people there hadn’t paid to see you. “Thank you for being here, guys. It’s been a while since I last saw you guys face to face. Last time was in Coachella, back in April, right?”

People shouted many things, you smiled.

“So a week ago I released my fifth album, rip to my feelings,” more cheering. “I know the title is corny but I couldn’t find better wording. This album, and I’ve said this countless times, means the world to me,”

“Fuck Harris Dickinson!” Someone shouted and everyone started laughing, including you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you agreed. “I hope you like the show. I’ve also heard that we have some special guests tonight…”

Jack’s heart stopped. For some idiotic reason, he thought you’d say his name. Until he reminded himself that you and him were no longer a thing and you didn’t even know he was there.

“Please, please, please, make some noise for my favorite hockey team, the New Jersey Devils!”

The camera focused on the fifteen men sitting on the VIP section, who got out of their seats and started shouting, while showing off their merch, making the other people cheer too.

Jack knew he shouldn’t, but he felt jealous all the same. He should be there, cheering for you and kissing you in front of all of them. Maybe punching Zegras in the face while he was at it too.

“Thank you for coming, guys,” you smiled again, before you started singing the next song.

Jack was mesmerised with you for the next hour and a half. How you danced, how you sang, how you twirled around, how you looked so fucking gorgeous in that tight outfit. How your eyes shined, how your body was perfect, and how he wanted nothing more than you.

The concert went well, like everyone knew it would, you making yourself comfortable, and at home: talking with your fans, taking pictures with them, handing the mic to some of them, who sang awfully in Jack’s humble opinion. Even if the majority of the songs were sad and soul crushing, you made sure people enjoyed themselves.

You were a true sight.

“Now, this is going to be the last song,” some sad oooh’s were heard and you smiled, nodding with your head. “I know, I know, I’m sad too but you all have to go home and these people here,” you pointed at the band behind you. “Also have to go home. But,” you raised your finger, moving your body until you were sitting on the edge of the stage. Some of your fans shouted. “I have one more song for you. This one isn’t in the album because I wrote this recently, but I still want to show it to you guys.”

More cheers, more shouts, more people crying.

“This one’s called Bad for Business and will be available on all streaming platforms by midnight.” Jack watched as you smiled, making him raise and eyebrow. He didn’t know about this one.

“He's good for my heart but he's bad for business

Tears me apart when he grants my wishes

All of my friends think I've gone crazy

But they don't know me like my baby

We look good in photographs

I like the way you like to laugh at dirty jokes

I know they'll always land

Used to get work on time

But now you're taking up my nights

Never been so glad to be so tired

Ooh, I'm mad for you

It's sad but true and I know it

Ahh, you're on my mind

You stole my life and it's showin’…”

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off the stage, eating up every word. He knew this song was about him. It was as clear as day, and maybe he was just being cocky but he didn’t care. It meant that he still had a chance.

He's good (good), it's bad (bad)

The best I've ever had (best I've ever had)

And he's so nice, it's sad (it's sad)

He ruined all my plans

And he just makes me so crazy

I know everyone sees

That he'll be the death of me

He still had a chance. He could still try because it was clear: you were still in love with him. Why else would you sing this? Why else would you write something like this?

He got up, he had seen enough. He left the venue with his head low, trying to walk without being noticed. He knew exactly what he had to do, and even if it sucked, it was the right thing.

—- ♡

“I really hope there is a reason why you’re calling me in the middle of the night, Jack,” Quinn sounded tired but. He always did. “A good one, that is,”

“I need some advice,” Jack looked at his brother through the screen, noticing the eye bags and the tired eyes. Why the hell Quinn always looked like he had been hit by a train was unknown.

Quinn just hummed, signaling for him to continue speaking.

“It’s Soph.”

“Did something happen?”

Jack cringed. Maybe they did need to start paying attention to what happened online. “Yeah, well, someone took a picture of me leaving the Halloween party with that girl named Ava who’s apparently one of my exes and posted it online, making it look like we hooked up or whatever. Then, they talked shit about Soph and Soph kind of broke up with me after saying she was in love with me and basically calling it a mistake.”

Quinn stared at the camera for a good minute, and just when Jack was starting to think he’d fallen back asleep, he moved, caressing his face with his hand.

“The hell is going on in New Jersey.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Jack scoffed. “I didn’t call you for nothing. If I wanted whatever the hell this is I would’ve called Luke.”

“I mean, what did you expect to happen? One day your whore days would catch up on you. Everyone knew this.”

“Why does everyone keep calling me a whore? Is this how women feel?” Jack frowned.

“They call you that because you had a new girl every month. Every time you had a gala you’d take a new girl with you and of course people would talk about that.”

“Okay but I wasn’t dating any of them!” Jack raised his arms, forgetting that he was still holding his phone and dropping it. Picking it up, he continued. “So what if I had a new woman every month? The issue here is Sophia not wanting to be with me anymore!”

“I think that, before wanting to be with her, you have to know if you want a relationship at all,” Quinn said, calmly. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before, a serious one that is. A relationship is a commitment, especially when you’re dating someone as famous as Sophia.”

“I know that she’s famous, I don’t care about that—”

“It’s not about her being famous, jackass, it’s about people forgetting that she is more than that. She is more than the Sophia who sings and dances, she’s a person. That’s literally common sense.”

“I know that too,” Jack mumbled.

“Soph’s been through a lot with that son of a bitch who’s not even worth mentioning. I don’t know much, you probably know about it better than me, but what I know is enough to make me want to punch him with my stick.”

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I hate that fucking asshole. He cheated on her, lied, manipulated her and had the audacity to break up with her.”

“So, knowing all of that, how do you think she felt when she saw that picture?” Quinn asked, eyebrow arched. “The guy she’s in love with, holding hands with his ex.”

“I didn’t fuck her!” He raised his voice, tired of everyone saying the same. “I just took her home and went back to my place.”

“Yeah, but does Soph know that?”

Jack frowned. “Of course she does. I’ve told her multiple times that I was only seeing her. And Ava was drunk, I wouldn’t have done anything with her even if I wanted to.”

“Yes because it’s very credible that the guy who used to date a new girl every month now suddenly only dates a single girl. Jack, sometimes I feel like you just don’t think.”

“If I wanted someone to call me dumb—”

“You would’ve called Luke, I know. But right now, that’s what you need to hear,” Quinn sighed. “Look, I know it’s hard for you to understand but put yourself in her shoes. Just think.”

“Everyone keep saying this is my fault but I don’t see how I am the person in the wrong here. I didn’t publish the article, I didn’t fuck Ava—”

Quinn sighed loudly again, interrupting Jack and staring at the screen for a minute, again.

“What?”

“Sometimes I ask myself if we were raised by the same woman,” he shrugged. “Just imagine if Ma knew all of this. She’d probably yell at you.”

“Get to the point, Quinn,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Look. I’ll try to make it simple,” he started. “Sophia is in love with you. She fell in love with you despite knowing that you have a long history of dating. But, she’s also hurt. And you made it all worse when you said the things I know you probably said.”

“I didn’t say anything that bad…”

“Oh, quit it, Jack. I know you,” Quinn smiled. “You probably made her cry too. That’s the drill. Anyways, you have to ask yourself how do you feel about Soph—”

“I love her.”

They both stayed quiet for at least five minutes. Quinn just staring at the screen like he was reading a newspaper article and Jack staring back at him, looking like he was about to explode.

He hadn’t stopped to think about what he truly felt for you. He knew he liked you, adored even, but he never thought of naming the things he felt whenever he thought about you.

But it was as clear as day. He loved you, he was in love with you.

“Well, then I think my job here is done.” Quinn finally said, breaking the silence.

“What?” Jack almost shouted. “What do you mean? You have to help me get her back!”

“I don’t have time for that and honestly neither do you,” he stated and, well, he was right. They were in the middle of the season, and that was their job. Jack needed to get a grip. “If I were you, though, I’d start by apologising and telling her that you didn’t have sex with Ava or anyone else for that matter.”

“Okay,” Jack breathed. “And then?”

“Figure it out yourself. You’re a big boy.”

Jack groaned, leaning back on the couch. “Fuuuck. This is so fucking shitty. I love her, and she loves me, why can’t we just be together?”

“You will, after you fix this mess.” Quinn yawned and nodded at you. “I’m gonna go back to sleep. You should too. You’ve been playing like shit lately.”

“Fuck you. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He hung up, throwing his phone on the pillow next to him.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

#jack hughes #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x singer!fmc #jack hughes x singer!reader #IYLMLMK

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symp4nat · 8 months ago

Note

Dior and reader act like they're in a relationship and they do things couples do like being touchy and calling each other nicknames which make the other cast members curious if they're dating and that basically makes them both realise that they have feelings for each other

(pretend that they're filming s2 and reader is one of the new characters)

thank youuu

"What are we?"

dior goodjohn x reader

warnings: nicknames, touching (not sexual), stupid idiots in love, fmentionss of making out, bad words

authors note: HI POOPY POOS ITS ME UR GIRL WSGG SORRY THIS IS LATE LLIKE IM ON A 8 HOUR SCHOOL TRIP SO I HAVE NOTHING BETTER 2 DO!

You were sitting on your foldable-director's (actor's) chair with your legs crossed as you watched your castmates all work on set. You had noticed Dior in a slightly bad mood and your eyes followed her as she walked to the bathroom. As you continued watching the team, you felt a hand squeezing your arm.

"Hey, you," a voice rasped. You could recognize that voice from a mile away. "You okay," you questioned as you turned around to face her, your best friend, the love of your life.. stop it, you aren't anything like that..

Dior stood on the side of your chair and ran a hand through your hair. She scoffed and denied, "What are you talking about? I'm fine, I'm all goo-"

You reached a hand up to her face and rubbed her cheek. "No, I mean, I kinda noticed, you looked uncomfortable o- or sad, I dunno."

Her nails gently scratched your scalp as she cooed, "I'm alright, baby, I'll tell you later, 'kay?" You looked down to cover the blush that rose to your face and nodded. "Go film, pretty."

She tucked some hair behind her ear and shook her head. "They asked me to come get you," she gently spoke as she looked down at you lovingly. "C'mon, bro, stop making out and get over here," Charlie teased.

You huffed and intertwined your fingers with hers and pulled her to the set. She admired the smile on your face and laughed. "We're friends, dude!"

Leah snorted, "Okay, big sis." You peered into Dior's dark brown eyes and squeezed her arm. "Go, I'll be on Set 4." Her lips landed on your cheek and said, "'Kay, I'll pick you up later. Stay safe."

When you had returned, a little bit earlier, you noticed Dior's hands on a girls waist, both of them wearing a camp shirt and lighting and a greenscreen behind them. Your eyebrows furrowed but you realized that it was the scene you despised.

Her eyes darted to yours and then back to the girl's. She swallowed the lump in her throat and the girl placed her hand on Dior's cheek. You clenched your jaw as your nails dug into your palms. As you walked away, Dior sighed, but continued with the scene. She placed her lips onto the other girl's and imagined it was you, her girl, standing right in front of her.

authors note: forthesakeoftheplot,lets pretend, sea-of-monsters, hasakisswithclarisseandsomeoneelse

Later, Dior knocked on your trailer. "Out, home time, let's go!" You opened the door and barely glanced at her as you placed a waterbottle in her hands. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at you confusedly. You got into her car and shut the door as you impatiently waited for her. Once she got in, she played some music quietly as she drove and hummed along with it.

You were drumming your fingers on the side of the car door and Dior groaned, "Please, talk to me, lovey..."

And so you snapped. "What are we? Do you think I'm okay with all of this? I'm okay with you just- just messing around with me and acting like we're in love?! That isn't right; none of this is!"

She parked the car in your driveway, but you wouldn't relent. "I hate it, I hate acting like we're best friends one moment and then lovers the next! Choose something and fucking stick with i-"

Dior pulled you in for a kiss, a gentle, loving kiss. As your lips moved in sync with one another, your eyes fluttered shut in relief. You pulled back, gasping for breath, and Dior said, "There, I love you. I'm in love with you, doofus."

"I like you too, love, I mean love," you said softly. "And um... I gotta go so yeah.." Dior nodded and once you opened the door, she grabbed your face. She pecked your lips and then kissed you longer again.

From the outside, you were beaming as you closed the door and entered your house. On the inside, you were screaming in excitement. You jumped around in your living room and checked your phone as you felt a buzz.

D <3

i can see u, yk?

its cute btw :)

cya tmrw x

A grin formed on your face as you collapsed onto your couch. Maybe this was love, who knew.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x y/n #percy jackson #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue fluff #pjo fandom #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse x reader #dior goodjohn x reader #dior goodjohn #dior #dior goodjohn imagine #dior pjo

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wosoamazing · 9 months ago

Text

Accident

Summary: Kyra accidentally hurts you resulting in a concussion

Warnings: Injury, Vomiting (Once)

A/N: Just a short-ish one, not my fav, hope you like it. Also I'm still working on the beach/body image fic, its just taking longer than expected.

You, Kyra, and Charli were just messing around after practice when Kyra accidentally shoved you into the goal post, causing you head to hit it quite hard. You kind of just stood there in shock while the two others stared at you not knowing what to do, before you dropped to the ground, sitting crossed legged holding your head in your hands as you began to cry.

“Charli, go get Steph and the medics” Kyra order bending down putting a hand on your shoulder, which you shrugged off. “No, go away.”

_____

“Charli what’s the rush?” Steph said when Charli got to them slightly out of breath and panicked.

“Kyra hurt Y/N,” with those three words Steph was sprinting to you.

“What?” more girls turned around at her words.

“She shoved her as a joke but then Y/N’s head hit the goal post and it kinda bounced back off the goal post and now, she is crying”.

“We need some medics over here” Sam yelled before following Steph.

“What’s wrong with Kyra? She’s crying” Caitlin spoke, and with that more girls were headed over along with the medics.

_____

“Hey Y/N, it’s me, can you lie down for me?” Steph said as she reached you, with Steph’s help you laid down on your back.

“Hey Kid, what’s wrong?” Sam asked as she reached you.

“I-it H-hurts” you cried out. “Where does it hurt?” she asked trying to get more information “M-my head, h-here” you said through tears as you pointed to your left temple area, where a slight bump was already forming.

“Okay, it’s okay, we’ve got you and the medics are coming,” she said reassuring you.

The medics came over and moved Kyra and some of the other girls out of the way, but Steph and Sam stayed either side of you, each hold one of your hands.

Kyra started crying at the scene evolving around her when she cried out “I-I’m sorry, i-it was an ac-cident,” Sam looked up to her before reassuring her “It’s okay Kyra” she then looked at the other girls “Can you guys maybe go check on Charli and help Kyra, oh and keep Tony updated. We have it all covered here” they all followed their captains orders and dispersed.

After the medics did some more checking they spoke to Sam and Steph “She’s definitely got a concussion grade 1, maybe grade 2, we’ll talk to Tony but it would be good if she could stay in your room for the next few nights as she will need someone to keep an eye on her and well….,” she tapered off both of the older two women knew she was suggesting the fact that you wouldn’t want to share a room for Kyra for the next few nights after what happened, before she continued “and we will check her out again tomorrow, I think she is still slightly in shock. She may get some nausea, or she may throw up but it’s only a concern if she throws up more than twice a day, and make sure she drinks lots of water and stays off screens. Oh, and wake her up roughly every four hours to check everything is okay and call us if you need anything”.

“Thank you,” Steph and Sam both chimed before helping you get up. They both took you to their room and you had a quick shower while Steph sat on the toilet she insisted she stayed their while you showered encase you fell, and you didn’t have enough energy to fight back, Sam quickly went to your room to get you some clothes and a few of your things you might need for the next few nights before returning, Sam handed you some clothes which you got dressed into and then they helped you get into bed, both finding a position either side of you before you leant on Steph and quickly nodded off.

“Were they in there?” Steph asked moving her gaze from you over to Sam who nodded her head in response. “How was she, well they?”

“Charli was alright, just a little sad that this one got hurt, but Kyra was still crying Caitlin, Mini, Alanna and Macca were trying to calm her down, when I walked in she deffo started crying more, well the glare I got from Mini told me that, and she kept saying she was sorry, I feel kind of bad but I mean they shouldn’t have been messing around”

“Yeah, I think we should tell Tony not to punish Kyra though, I think hurting her friend was punishment enough, she seemed really upset on the pitch” Steph said softly.

“Yeah, I know, I think all three of them learnt a lesson, we always tell them to be more careful because someone will get hurt, and well…” she replied motioning towards your figure lying between them.

“Hey, can you wake up?” Sam said slightly nudging you. You thought it must’ve hit the four-hour mark but when your eyelids eventually rose from their place you saw 6 figures scattered around the room, making you unsure as to why you were woken up. Kyra was hiding behind Caitlin who was trying to coax her out of her hiding, she was sniffling every now and then. “Kyra just has something she wants to say to you, is that okay?” Sam informs you; you were unsure why so many people needed to be in the room for her to do so but you just nodded which was a mistake as a sudden wave of nausea ran through you, but it quickly subsided. That was until Alanna and Macca slammed the door behind them, Tony wanted an update and they said they would go, the loud thud of the door and the vibration of the room made you feel like you could be sick at any moment.

“Go ahead Kyra,” at Sam’s words the nausea increased, and you were about to be sick, you gaged.

“I think I’m going to be-” “Someone the bowl from the bathroom,” but it was too late the contents of your stomach were all over your shirt and the bed, and you burst into tears, Kyra cried at the sight, knowing that this was her fault, even if she didn’t mean it, her push was the reason you had a concussion and why you had just been sick. Mini came back with the bowl, sighing at the sight, but still handing the bowl over just encase.

“Are you all good or do you think you’re going to be sick again?” Steph said after a few moments, she was rubbing your back trying to calm you down, in any other moment that you were crying this hard she would’ve given you a big hug, but in this current situation she didn’t really want to do that.

“I-I think I’m g-good” you said through sobs.

“I think we’ll let you be and come back later,” Caitlin said as she put her hands on the now also sobbing Kyra and lead her out the door, Charli followed quickly behind, and she gently shut the door behind her.

“Here, I’ll help,” Mini said as you were tugging at your shirt trying to figure out how to get it off, Steph and Sam had already gotten up and were trying to deal with the bed.

“I-I’m, I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean t-too” you sniffled, you truly didn’t mean to create such a mess, the three women gave you sorry looks before Mini said, “It’s okay, but Y/N/N it isn’t your fault, come on let’s get that shirt off hey,” she helped you get your shirt over your head without transferring anything from your shirt onto you, she was oddly good at it but you supposed having a toddler would mean she had some practice. “Also,” mini started as she looked over to Steph and Sam, “you can have Harper’s room, we are trying to sleep train her, so Tony gave us a second room, but we don’t need it as much as you guys do.” Your two captains smiled at her offer and thanked her profusely.

As the four of you left the room, with two suitcases in hand to head down to your new room you saw the cleaners walking down the hall, Sam mouthed a sorry at them. The new room was only a few doors down and as soon as you entered you climbed into its fresh bed, and the others got sorted, helping Mini move Harper’s stuff out. After a little while they both climb back into bed with you, this time making sure they keep the bowl close by, which in the following three days you didn’t end up needing. Steph and Sam had taken turns going to training so someone was always with you while you were still recovering and Kyra came to apologise and said she should’ve been more careful, you accepted her apology and agreed with her. Thankfully three days later you were cleared and deemed safe to go back to training, and it was safe to say there was no more messing around between you, Kyra and Charli, well at least on the pitch, and near any poles.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt #auswnt x reader

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whatswrongwithblue · 4 months ago

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Girl Talk

Part 6 of my Imagines with Angel Dust. My silly little plot-less series about you, some comical conversation with your bestie Angel Dust, and some delicious smut with you and Alastor.

“Ugghh, this is stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you.

Charlie’s ‘little fun idea of the day’ was to make everyone write a list of five things they did while they were alive that they wished to apologize for. Not only did you find it a massive intrusion of your privacy but you were honestly struggling to come up with anything substantial. Didn’t Charlie realize this was why you were in Hell? And you weren’t here for redemption, you were only here because Alastor had batted his pretty eyelashes at you when he showed up at your doorstep after having disappeared for seven fucking years and asked you to move in with him here. At least, that was the very shortened and abbreviated story you told the other residents.

Were you sorry for the pig-headed men you had murdered while you were alive? No. They deserved it.

Were you sorry for stealing and then pawning jewelry from the wives of the men you had seduced? Nope. You needed the money.

Were you sorry for using and dealing drugs? Not a chance. They were an escape and again . . . money.

And, besides the murder, you hadn’t had to resort to any of those things now that you were in Hell. Charlie just didn’t understand how hard some of you had had it while alive and a lot of your sins were just survival tactics. You refused to apologize for any of it. Not to her and not to God himself.

Well, there was one small thing that came to mind. You sighed and put your pen to paper.

#1. I am sorry that after I caught my older sister sucking my boyfriend’s dick that I snuck into her bathroom and sprayed vinegar on all of her tampons and rubbed cayenne pepper into her favorite red eyeshadow.

#2. And I’m sorry that I spread that rumor about my then ex-boyfriend that he couldn’t get it up for me unless he looked at pictures of his step-father while we did it. In retrospect, I should have just punched them in their stupid cheating faces and been done with it.

But after writing those two things down, you just went back to staring at the paper for several more minutes.

Eventually, Angel came into the room and plopped down next to you, resting his head against the back of his sofa with one arm flung dramatically over his eyes.

“Ugghhh, this is stupid,” he lamented.

“My thoughts exactly. What have you got so far?” you asked, peering over at his paper.

He lifted up a blank sheet. Blank, except for a few explicit doodles around the margins.

“Fucking nada,” he sighed. Then quietly, “I love Charlie but . . . she just doesn’t get it.”

You looked over at your friend, sympathetically. He had spent all day yesterday at work, doing a 16 hour shift, then had to spend his one day off this week doing this. At least you didn’t have to work and at least you had Alastor. Angel, you knew, was terribly lonely and sad underneath his flirty exuberant façade.

Not being the kind of person to outright show compassion or kindness, you decided to cheer Angel up in another way.

“Hey, what do you call a 6.9?”

Angel lifted his head and blinked at you.

“Come again?”

“What,” you repeated, more slowly and enunciated this time, “doooooo you call a 6 point 9?”

“I don’t know, what?” he asked, shrugging with disinterest.

“A good thing ruined by a period.”

A small smile cracked across Angel’s face as he registered the dirty joke and he sat up a little further, suddenly interested.

“What do you call a lesbian with braces?” he asked.

“Oh, oh wait, I know this one!” you said, putting a finger to your chin as you tried to recall the punch line. After a moment, it came to you. “A box cutter!”

“Okay, how about this one,” he continued. “Why do you never have to worry about getting pregnant when sleeping with a vampire?”

“Why?”

“Because they have to be invited to cum inside.”

You cackled, smiling eagerly as you thought up your next joke.

“Jesus, a lawyer, and a priest are on a sinking ship. Jesus stands up and says ‘Save the children!’ The lawyer stands up and says ‘Fuck the children!’ The priest gets up and asks, ‘Do you think we have time?’”

Angel bent over laughing, wrapping two arms around his torso and holding a third to the side of his head as he fought to catch his breath.

“Good one. Okay, okay,” he wheezed, “I got another one for ya. What did the leper say to the prostitute?”

“What?”

“Keep the tip.”

You both fell into another fit of giggles.

“I don’t believe this is what our dear Charlie had in mind for today’s activities,” Alastor’s voice said from behind you and you both turned in sync to find him smiling down at the two of you. “Though I think the creativity can be appreciated.”

“Do you always gotta do that? Fucking sneaking up on people, it’s not cool man,” Angel said, frowning.

Alastor just smiled more broadly, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, as the sound of static momentarily filled the air.

You, as usual, did not let Alastor’s weirdness sour your mood. Instead, you just beamed up at him, unashamed and happy to see him.

“I need some fresh air,” Alastor said, turning his gaze onto you. “Today is rather tedious and boring. Care to join me for a walk?”

“Babe, it’s way too hot outside.”

“Of course it is! It’s Hell, my dear!” Alastor said with a chuckle.

“It’s 125 degrees,” you deadpanned.

“Oh please,” he said with a flamboyant flick of his wrist, “I’ve never been one to let a little sun stop me from enjoying my day.” And with a bit of a huff, he began walking towards the front doors, his shoulders rigid and microphone held behind him.

You rolled your eyes. You loved him but God damn, he was sensitive when you denied him anything. And you knew he was looking for just as much of an excuse to get away from Charlie’s activity as the rest of you were. If that meant strutting around Pentagram City in his full suit and pretending the sweltering heat had no affect on him for some kind of presentation of his power, all the better. But you were going to sit in here like a sane person and enjoy the air conditioning.

“Oh, and by the way, darling,” Alastor said, stopping in the entryway after opening the door. “You wouldn’t happen to know the difference between a vitamin and a hormone, would you?”

You just scowled at him and his sugary-sweet tone. It always meant he was up to something.

“You can hear a whore moan,” he said and shut the door behind him.

You laughed a little through your nose and smiled, shaking your head. To this day, sometimes even you were surprised by the things that came out of his mouth.

Then you turned and looked over at Angel, who was staring a bit wide-eyed at the direction Alastor had exited.

“I don’t get it,” he said and you looked at him quizzically. “Is he bi or something?”

“What?” you asked, totally thrown off by his question.

“Oh please,” Angel said, imitating Alastor’s tone and the flick of his wrist remarkably well. “I’m just saying, that’s some gay shit for someone who’s supposedly straight.”

You grinned a cheshire smile before taking on an air of indifference.

“Oh that?” You made the same wave and flick of your hand. “He’s not straight.”

Angel sat up and leaned towards you faster than you had ever seen him. You bit your lip to keep from smiling, enjoying this new way of toying with him.

“So he is bi. Oh my fucking God, that is . . . I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

He seemed so excited and you let him sit with that happiness for a minute before you tore it all down.

“No. He’s not.”

Angel stared so intently at you that it would have made you uncomfortable if you weren’t so amused. You could almost see the mathematical equations in his thought bubble as he tried to work out what you had just said.

“Is this the biggest plot twist of the century?”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you just tell me he’s gay!!??” Angel practically screamed. “But I thought you . . . you two . . . are you not . . .”

You busted up laughing.

“Oh my God, you are practically short circuiting right now, you should see your face!” you said through your laughter.

Angel just continued staring at you.

“Angel,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “I thought you were the greatest sexual detective ever. That you could read all my dirty secrets just from the way I blushed? And you’re now questioning if Alastor and I are a couple?”

“Well, yeah but . . . you said . . . and that means . . . I’m so confused!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Oh, calm down,” you said. “Yes, we have sex. We fuck like animals and make sweet, sensual love and everything in between. Quite regularly, too,” you said the last part with a bit of pride.

Angel looked unamused. “So if he’s not straight, and not gay, and he’s not bi, then what the fuck label does he use?” You opened your mouth to answer and he held up a finger, halting you. “And I swear, if you say something stupid like ‘pansexual’ or some other nuanced version of bi just to fuck with me, I’ll never be your friend again.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting a second to see if he would interrupt you again, before smiling broader and finally giving him your answer.

“He’s asexual.”

Angel gave you the blankest stare ever before picking up his phone.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, raising his finger at you again. “I’m looking this shit up.”

You allowed him this as he typed in his question into the search bar of his phone screen and he read whatever the internet was telling him.

“NO HE’S NOT!” Angel shouted, still looking at his phone. “It’s not even a real thing!”

Offended, you grabbed his phone out of his hand to read whatever answer he had found in his Googling.

You read out loud the ridiculous definition he had pulled up.

“’Asexual is a label invented by women who are perpetually tired of being pile-drived by their husbands’ unremarkable dicks and have overused the excuse that they have a headache.’” You sighed, raising an eyebrow at your friend. “Angel, maybe next time, use a different search engine than Pride Ring’s Dictionary. Of course it’s all going to be smartass answers like this.”

Angel snatched his phone back.

“Hey, I find them to be refreshingly honest.”

“That is not honesty, that’s mockery,” you defended. “Asexuality is valid. And so is aromanticism. Alastor is on both of those spectrums. Trust me, it made actually starting a relationship a long and complicated process . . . but it was worth it in the end.”

Angel saw the love-sick look in your eyes and rolled his eyes. “Gross,” he mumbled and kept scrolling through his phone, clearly looking at other sources for definitions.

“So you’re telling me,” Angel said, after a few more minutes of his ‘research,’ “That you are the sole proprietor of all his desires? The only person he finds sexually attractive and the only person he would pursue a relationship with? All because of your guys’s ‘deep emotional connection that you fostered over time.’”

He was clearly reading a direct quote from something and said the last part with such a mocking tone that you were starting to get pissed off.

“Put frankly and simply, yes,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Just sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me,” Angel mumbled. “And it doesn’t explain his gay-ass personality.”

You snorted. “You don’t have to fuck to be fab.”

“But you do fuck . . . or so you say,” Angel retorted.

“What can I say, she’s just that good.”

You and Angel both turned to find Alastor standing in the foyer again, looking more annoyed than when he’d left.

“See, this is what I was saying the other day,” Angel said, gesturing towards Alastor but looking at you. “Total voyeur vibes. Always spyin’ on people.”

You ignored Angel and turned a teasing grin over at Alastor.

“Back so soon?”

Alastor glanced down at himself and fiddled with the ends of his coat sleeves before striding towards you.

“As it turns out, Pentagram City is entirely too irritating today.”

“So it’s too hot out there?”

“Shouldn’t you be packing?” he countered, ignoring your jibe.

“It’s one night Al’, it’ll take me five minutes to pack.”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. “You say that every time. And every time,” he sang, and tapped you on your nose, “I end up having to wait on you.”

“Where you two going?” Angel asked.

“Just a little getaway,” Alastor answered.

“For our anniversary,” you clarified as you stood from your place on the couch and walked around it to join Alastor at his side.

Angel frowned. “Anniversary?” he puzzled. “Of your first date or . . .” his eyes darted down to each of your left hands, noting the absence of rings there. “You guys aren’t married, so . . . wait. You guys aren’t married . . . right?”

“Should we tell him?” Alastor asked you, looking down at you with a playful gleam in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around your hips.

“Nah, let him squirm for a few days,” you said and followed Alastor towards the stairs, Charlie’s project for you completely forgotten on the table behind you.

“Wait a sec . . . HUSK!” you heard Angel yell below you at the demon who was at his permanent position manning the bar. “ARE THOSE TWO MARRIED OR NOT?”

“WHO THE FUCK KNOWS!” came the dismissive reply.

You and Alastor just laughed together, enjoying this new game you had incidentally created.

Thank you to all who asked to be added to the tag-list for this series!

@readergirlstuff @thereallsaturnstar @somefancybb @moonstarrs11 @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @rhiannaleek @selenezq @speedycoffeedelight @saturn-alone @whoknowswhoiamtoday @quill-to-book @sirens-and-moonflowers @cosmiccandydreamer @littlepoetnova @axellovesalastor

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor fanfiction #alastor #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #the radio demon #angel dust #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #angel dust x you

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w3irdo666 · 9 months ago

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LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS

PART 1/ PART 2/ PART 3

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!reader

Letter count:2666

Warnings: mention of depression, i dont think anything more.

Notes:I slightly changed the course of events to make it more convenient to write, sorry!!!

Two angels were sitting on a bench in a small garden filled with different types of flowers. In front of the bench there was a fountain with clear, almost mirror-like water, giving the air a slightly damp taste. “I...I’m not sure if I can...you don’t have to be on my side, my idea is stupid-” Lucifer didn’t have time to finish when his words were interrupted by the girl’s soft laugh. She smiled and took Lucifer’s hands in hers, soft as plushie, warm hands, making Lucifer's heart beat a little faster. "Don't worry Luci, I will always be by your side, no matter what happens. It's my decision and your idea is not stupid. If they don't hear you... It will only show their stupidity." Her calm, kind voice added confidence to Lucifer. He smiled and looked away for a few seconds, but then moved his gaze back to the girl next to him. "Yes, you're right.. Thank you." His eyes looked into yours, radiating warmth.Moving closer, the girl hugged Lucifer. It was a warm, encouraging hug. “I will always support you, no matter what. I will always be by your side.”

Lucifer's sad gaze was directed at the new rubber duck he had just made. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Small, clear as glass, tears formed in the corners of his eyes, remembering his last moments in heaven, before his expulsion. Y/n. This girl was his friend, always supported his idea, was ready to give every part of herself to support Lucifer. Where are she now? How is her life? Is she happy? He does not know. "I will always be by your side, no matter what." Lucifer sobbed, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his suit.These words are ingrained in his head. He no longer really remembers her face, but he definitely remembers how soft her hands were. Her radiant smile.. He almost forgot what her laughter sounds like.Her beautiful, plump scarlet lips, which he always wanted to know what they tasted like. She was a ray of light in the darkness. How beautiful her wings were when she flew with him...Years of suffering, loneliness, depression.. during all this time he tried forget about her, because thoughts about her hurt him even more....

Trying to distract himself, he started making rubber ducks, "how pathetic". He thought.

Somehow finding the strength to get up from his chair, the King of Hell headed to his bed. The bed cracked slightly, feeling the weight of his body when Lucifer fell onto the soft mattress of the bed.

"You can't just go ahead and banish him! How dare you!" Tears flowed down the girl’s cheeks, burning her skin. Her voice almost broke from screaming. But no one wanted to hear her. No one cared.

Lucifer turned over on his back, his gaze staring at the ceiling. He would have continued to lie in deathly silence if the silence had not been broken by the unexpected ringing of the phone, causing Lucifer to flinch. With a quick movement, he rose from the bed and grabbed the phone.

"Daughter..?.... Daughter! Daughter calling!" Seeing the contact's name, Lucifer's sad face burst into a joyful smile and he almost dropped his phone. Charlie, his daughter is calling him! After a slightly awkward conversation, he said that he would be at Charlie’s hotel in an hour. After hanging up, he took a deep breath and smiled. The sadness that had been gnawing at him a few minutes ago was put on the back burner...

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his strength. He would finally see his daughter, after a long time. He couldn't screw it up.

Part 2 in progress!! Hope you enjoyed!! :D

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you

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shakespeareanwannabe · 4 months ago

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As You Wish, Chapter 15

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, panic attack, drinking, sadness, reference to divorce, references to babies, swearing, references to body image issues, swimming and water games

Top Gun, almost 12 years ago

Jake yawned as he sat in front of his locker, his flightsuit half unzipped and his travel mug of coffee cooling on the bench beside him.

He was so. Damn. Tired. Of everything. He was doing the nightshift with the twins so that Buttercup could get some rest, but the top brass wanted him in at 6 a.m. on the dot to run low-light training simulations with the rest of the squad. His parents were constantly on him about taking Buttercup and the twins for a visit and, for a military family, they were having a real tough time understanding that Jake literally didn’t have enough hours in the day as it was. And on top of that…

His head drooped as he remembered what had gone down that morning in the cute little bungalow that he had finally been able to move his family into a mere month before Buttercup had given birth. He had busted his ass for that house, and she wanted to what? Move away for a job she could do from anywhere? When she was barely healed from giving birth and he could deploy again at the drop of a hat?

Jake shook his head. He had to get his head in the game. If he kept replaying the fight in his mind, he’d be useless up in the air. He’d already fucked up the last three simulations they’d flown, and Cyclone had really been up his ass about it. Even Mav had looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.

Jake pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and his fingers gripped his hair, tugging the blond locks tightly. What the fuck was wrong with him? This wasn’t who he was. Star quarterback, homecoming king, only aviator with two confirmed air to air kills of his generation. He’d married the perfect woman and had two perfect daughters, so why was everything so. Fucking. Hard?

“Hey man, are you…what the hell’s wrong with you?” Rooster’s voice came from the doorway but Jake couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He couldn’t move his head or his hands. Hell, he couldn’t even control his lungs, which were starting to burn with the speed of his breathing.

“Nothing” is what he tried to say, but all that came out was a garbled groan.

“Whoa, hey…” he felt Rooster take a seat across from him. “Dude, you’ve gotta breathe. Dude? Fuck…” The bench rattled beneath them as Jake flinched away from the gentle hand on his back. “Dude, fucking relax.” Rooster snatched one of his hands and tugged it to his chest, not noticing the blond hairs that ended up tangled in Jake’s clenched fist. Jake would’ve pulled his hand back but didn’t have the energy. He felt like he didn’t have the energy for anything anymore. “Just…try to breathe with me, okay?” Rooster took an exaggerated breath and Jake struggled to follow. “Dude, c’mon. You like to say you’re better at me than everything, but you’re gonna let me be better at breathing? No way. Try again.”

The next breath that Jake took was a little stronger. And so was the one after that. And the one after that, until he stopped shaking and he was able to release his fists and raise his head.

Rooster was staring off to the side and it took Jake a moment too long to realize it was because the older man didn’t want to see him cry. Jake hadn’t even realized he had been crying. Fuck, he hadn’t cried in years. Not even when the girls had been born. He’d wanted to, but he kept the tears at bay until he was in the privacy of his own shower, and everyone knew that shower tears didn’t count.

Jake used the scratchy sleeve of his flightsuit to wipe away the remaining tears before he sniffled, grunted, and sat up. “Thanks, man.” Rooster grunted and shifted on the bench, the wood groaning beneath his weight. “We, uh…we’ve been fighting,” he admitted quietly. “She wants to get a job and she needs more help with the twins, but I’m always needed here, so I don’t know what she wants me to fucking do, y’know?”

Rooster nodded once, eyes firmly on his boots. “You two will figure it out.”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m sure we will. Thanks, Rooster.”

The older man slapped the wood bench beneath him and stood. “Don’t mention it. Now, c’mon. Cyclone wants us on the flight field.”

“I’ll be right there.” His fingers still slightly trembling, Jake zipped up his flightsuit and downed his now cold coffee. “Hey Bradshaw? You’re not gonna tell anyone about this, right?”

“Tell anyone about what?” With that, Rooster pushed open the door to the locker room and disappeared, leaving Jake alone again.

Clifton, Texas, Now

The cold steel of the bleachers bit into Buttercup’s thighs as she chuckled around the mouthful of buttery popcorn she had just shoveled into her mouth, the crowd roaring around her.

Though she was not a football fan, the atmosphere of the high school football game was intoxicating. It seemed like everyone in Clifton had shown up to support the Clifton Cougars in their first pre-season friendly match. And while the keyword was supposed to be friendly, Jake and Javy were both coaching as though it was the last quarter of the Super Bowl and they were down by like 20.

“Let’s go, Cougars!” Abby cheered next to her, her face painted with blue and gold stars to match the school’s official colours.

“Get ‘em, Uncle Javy!” Charlie roared, her own bag of popcorn flying everywhere.

Her daughters’ enthusiasm increased Buttercup’s enjoyment of the game exponentially. While she had watched the Dallas Cowboys play while she and Jake had lived together and supported him when they won or lost, she had always found herself drifting during the televised games. Perhaps what she had needed was her daughters explaining the game to her. Or, she bit her lip, perhaps it was the sight of Jake in the tight white T-shirt and grey joggers that had her eyes hardly straying from the game in front of her.

He was so…passionate. The passion he had always shown for flying was now being shown as he conferred with Javy to call plays and helped bolster the offensive line. Even from her place halfway up the bleachers, she could see the bright stars shining in his eyes as he had a heart to heart with their rookie quarterback, and she could practically hear the warmth in his voice as he clapped the kid on the shoulder before he ran out onto the field.

There were only a few minutes left in the game and, while the Cougars were winning, and while it was only a friendly pre-season match, the hometown crowd was clearly loving the strength of their team. As the team lined up for one final play, Jake leaned in to whisper to Javy, who nodded enthusiastically before Jake turned and beckoned to them in the stands.

Charlie dumped her popcorn on her seat and turned to them eagerly. “C’mon, Mom!”

Buttercup shook her head. “He wants you two,” she smiled softly at her daughter. “You two go, I’ll hold the fort down here.”

Abby pouted at her. “Mum, please?”

“I’m sorry, babe, but there’s no reason your dad would want me down there,” she bit her lip against the sharp pang in her gut. “You two go.”

Abby’s shoulders slumped a bit before Charlie grabbed her arm. “It’s alright, Abs. You’re gonna love this.” Charlie tugged her sister down to the sidelines.

Jake bent down to talk to them briefly before turning back to the bleachers, beckoning to her again. Buttercup felt heat flood her cheeks but she shook her head. Perhaps there was a reason he wanted her down there with their daughters, but the memory of leaning against him on the dark path to the gazebo gave her pause. They had come so close…too close. And yeah, it had felt really good to be that close to him, but it was just nostalgia. They had been in close proximity for almost a week, their muscle memory from a decade ago was clearly kicking in.

From a distance, Buttercup could see Jake roll his eyes before he leaped the fence and started jogging up the steps to the bleachers.

“Buttercup, c’mon!” he called once he reached her row.

Her sigh barely masked her laugh. “Why? Jake, you know I’m not a huge football fan.”

“So? The Cowboys never lost a game when we watched together, so clearly you’re some sort of good luck charm. My boys could really use that luck right now.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’ve been winning all game.”

“So?” He fixed her with those patented puppy dog eyes. “The girls want you down there and so do I. Please?”

She groaned as she stood. “You know it’s not fair when you use those eyes.”

He grinned back at her. “I know. That’s why I do it.” Tingles of electricity sparked as he took her hand and led her down to the sidelines. Abby and Charlie met her with a hug as she reached them and Javy grinned at her before turning back to the team to give them a pep talk for their final push with 30 seconds left on the clock. “Okay, now just stand there and be lucky,” he winked at her before turning to join the team again.

Before she could blink, the game was over and Javy was scooping Charlie up in his arms, placing her on his shoulders as the team surrounded him. She squealed as Jake wrapped her up in his arms, spinning her around. She grabbed his arm as her feet touched the ground again, using it to steady herself as he grinned down at her.

“See?” he murmured, as close to her as he had been the night of their dinner. “You’re my good luck charm.”

She felt the heat race to her cheeks as he released her, opting to scoop up Abby as he joined the team’s celebration. She watched as her girls bobbed high above the cheering teenagers and grinned. No matter what was going on in her personal life, seeing her daughters so happy was infinitely worth it.

After the game, she found herself tucked into a corner booth at the local diner, tradition dictating that the Seresin family and Company went out for dinner, whether the Cougars won or lost. Bob had picked up a flight from Dallas to London, stating he’d be back in plenty of time to help with the reunion party scheduled for Saturday night. Phoenix had flat out refused to go to the game, and Rooster had opted to spend the night with her, his wink and nod at Jake enough for the man to know that his friend would at best figure out what was going on between Nat and Javy, at worst keep her from burning the place down. But she found herself happy as she sunk down in the booth, laughing as Javy was immediately tugged away by members of the football team, who were holding court over a bunch of tables pushed together.

“Sorry, fellas,” Jake tilted his head towards his girls with a grin and the teenagers immediately bowed away.

“Huh,” Buttercup mused as the teenagers returned to their table.

“What?”

“Nothing. That was just pretty impressive.”

Jake grinned. “They know that when I’m with Charlie, I’m off limits.”

Something fluttered in Buttercup’s chest as the waitress came over to take their orders.

“Just the usual, Mags,” Jake smiled at her as he stretched his arms across the back of the booth, pausing only to ruffle Abby’s hair.

“Me too!” Charlie settled into her mother’s side.

“Me three!” Abby giggled.

Buttercup blinked. “Ummm…” She scrambled for the sticky plastic menu and winced when it stuck to the table.

Jake stilled her struggle with a light hand on her wrist. “How about the chicken Ceasar salad, a side of fries, and a sweet tea?”

Buttercup couldn’t tear her gaze away from his large hand encircling her wrist, heat radiating up her arm at the gentle touch. Her breath caught and her heart rattled around in her chest for a moment before she was able to compose herself. She was being stupid. It was a simple touch between co-parents, and it wasn’t too far out of the realm of ordinary to remember the food preferences of a former loved one. She always found herself remembering his order of a medium rare steak with fried okra and a loaded baked potato, after all.

“Y-yeah,” she attempted a grin and gently pulled the menu off the table as Jake slowly released her. “That sounds perfect.”

Jake smiled and winked at Mags. “How’s Frank doin’, Mags? All better after his surgery?”

Mags blushed under his grin. “Oh, yes, he is. And thank you again, Coach, for sending your boys over to help with the yard work. I don’t know what I would’ve done without all the extra hands.”

Jake waved an easy hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll let Javy know they were helpful.” He winked at her again as she scurried off to the kitchen with her notepad.

“Hey girlie!” Javy hollered over from his spot with the team. “Davidson here thinks he can beat your score at Ms. Pacman!”

Charlie practically crawled over her mother and barely caught herself before she went headfirst into the floor from the bench seat. “Oh hell no! C’mon, Abs!” One quick look up at her father, and Abby dove after her sister, both girls giggling as they shouldered the senior running back out of the way.

“Don’t worry,” Jake murmured to her, watching her as she watched their daughters with the rowdy group of teens. “They’ve known her for years and see her as a little sister, and they accepted Abby right into the fold too. They’d be first on the attack if anything happened to either of them. And Javy is right there. He’ll keep things PG-13.”

Buttercup felt her cheeks warm under the weight of his stare. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I guess I’m not used to this small-town living thing. I feel like I can barely take my eyes off her in London. Everyone there is practically a stranger.”

Jake settled deeper into the booth, his long legs kicking out. “Yeah…everyone here either knows each other or knows of each other. Everyone looks out for everyone else. It’s a weird vibe to get used to, but once you do, there’s nothing like it.”

She quietly thanked Mags as she delivered their drinks and took a small sip of her sweet tea before grinning. “I guess I just never pegged you as the type of person to like the Leave It to Beaver lifestyle.”

Jake’s laughter poked at the small flame kindling in her chest, sending sparks flying. She’d missed that sound. Towards the end of them, there hadn’t been much laughter to go around, but his laugh had always been one of her favourite sounds, especially when they first got together. He’d still had so many walls up, preferring to keep his squad mates at an arm’s length, and that included anyone associated with them. He’d been all biting wit and sarcasm, but once he’d lowered his defences, she’d been a goner.

“I guess I didn’t really give off a Mayfield vibe, huh?” he chuckled. “And you’re not wrong. I spent a few summers here with my grandfather, but my head was always in the clouds or in my cockpit, so I never really enjoyed it. But, I don’t know…” he gazed around while sipping his beer. “My grandparents always said there was no better place to raise a kid than here. So, when I retired…I don’t know, I guess I figured here was as good a place as any. And I would have my grandfather to help me raise Charlie, so…it made sense.”

Buttercup nodded thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the old pictures and news articles that had been pinned to the walls. “It must be nice…growing up in a place with so much family history.”

Jake shrugged. “I grew up in Dallas, but I guess it was nice coming here. Everyone I met had some sort of story about my grandparents growing up, or my great-grandparents.”

“And now Charlie gets to hear about her dad growing up, and her great-grandparents, and her great-great-grandparents…” Buttercup sighed heavily. Her eyes jerked up to meet his as his hand landed on top of hers, squeezing lightly.

“What’s wrong, Buttercup?” The kindness and warmth in his eyes almost had her tearing up.

She shrugged, sniffling back those tears that were threatening to pool in her eyes. “I think you were right. Taking the job in London was the wrong decision. I cut us off from all the support we had, and—”

“Hey, now…none of that,” Jake squeezed her hand again and leaned in, so close to her that she could smell the spice of his cologne and the woodsy undertones that were pure Jake. “I was a stubborn, jealous asshole when I said that. You…you were drowning in Miramar, and I was too scared to be willing to see it. I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Buttercup chewed on her bottom lip as she looked into those green eyes. “That’s the first time you’ve ever told me you were scared,” she whispered.

Jake hung his head and rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah…I’m sorry about that too. I should’ve told you; I just didn’t want to add onto everything you were already dealing with. But maybe if I had…”

Buttercup flipped her hand and squeezed his gently, ignoring the shocks that went through her at the contact. “Communication was never our strong suit, was it?” she smiled sadly at him, and he chuckled in response, the sound sad and longing.

“No, I guess it wasn’t. But hey, we’re both older now, right?”

Her smile brightened a bit, even as her heart began to thud overtime. Was he suggesting…? But he couldn’t be. He was fresh off a breakup, and they lived on opposite sides of the world, and their daughters needed a solid unified front if they were going to adapt healthily into this new dynamic. Buttercup schooled her features before grinning at him.

“Yeah. We’re both older now,” her heart did a funny little flip at his smile, and she schooled that too. “We should be able to communicate way better for the girls. We did promise them a better custody arrangement, after all.”

It may have been a flicker of the old fluorescent bulbs overhead, or the shadow of Mags passing out their food falling over his face, but she could have sworn that a frown tugged at the edges of Jake’s mouth at her words. But in a blink, it was gone, and he was whistling for the girls to return to their table to eat.

“As you wish, Buttercup,” he murmured softly as their daughters raced over. “If a better custody arrangement is what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Saturday morning was a rush of activity and preparation for the Dagger’s reunion party. Jake, Javy, Bob, and Rooster had reached out to all their contacts and invited all the Daggers they had managed to contact. By Friday, they had received RSVPs from almost everyone. Penny and Amelia had immediately launched into planning mode, and Payback and Fanboy had enthusiastically agreed, the pair having stuck together since the Daggers had been disbanded. Omaha, Fritz, Halo and Harvard had all emailed back with their disappointed declines, seeing as they were all stationed in classified locations and weren’t due to be back in a few months.Yale said that he would come if he could, but it depended on his girlfriend’s work schedule. Even Cyclone and Hondo said that they would make an appearance if they were able, but Warlock wouldn’t be able to make it.

With such a large crowd, they had all been put on prep duty. Natasha and Bob had cleaned out a few of the empty dude ranch cabins to make space for their guests. Rooster had planned a huge menu of comfort food that they hadn’t really been allowed to eat while they were in the Navy. Jake and Javy had raided the local liquor store and brought back a veritable treasure trove of potent potables. Buttercup, Abby and Charlie had gone decoration shopping and brought back an embarrassing amount of cliche summer decorations, including flamingo floaties, sun-shaped sunglasses, and plastic pineapple cocktail cups. However, nothing truly got done until Penny rolled in with Amelia on Friday night, taking one look at the party supplies that had been strewn around the ranch house and sighing fondly, directing them with military precision.

Finally, after what felt like hours of hanging bunting, blowing up balloons, and cleaning the pool, Buttercup was lounging on a chaise by said pool next to Natasha, the Texan sun beating down on their skin as they laughed at the boys, all crammed in the pool playing an aquatic version of Dogfight Football.

Buttercup sighed contentedly as she sipped her margarita and watched her girls play with Payback’s kids, her eyes catching occasionally on Jake as he tackled Javy into the water.

“...are you even listening to me?” Natasha sighed, pulling her hat further down on her head to shield her scar from the sun.

“Hmm?” Buttercup’s eyes followed Jake as he threw the red foam football down the length of the pool, his muscles rippling as the water lapped at his waist.

“Damn, girl,” Natasha sighed as Payback’s wife, Maryanne, settled into the lounge beside them. “You’ve still got it bad.”

“Fuck off,” Buttercup muttered as she dragged her eyes away from the game. “Charlie, no tackling!” she shouted, as she noticed Charlie sneaking up on Payback’s son, Richard.

Amelia sighed and stood from where she was dangling her feet in the water. “I’ve got ‘em.”

“Amelia, you don’t have to do that…”

Amelia smiled at her and headed over to the grassy hill. “It’ll be good experience, don’t worry.”

Buttercup watched Amelia join the kids, immediately launching into whatever game they were playing with gusto. Shaking her head, she turned her head and noticed both women staring at her. “What?”

“Don’t what me,” Natasha grumbled. “Everyone can see how you two look at each other.”

“There’s no look,” Buttercup sighed.

“Honey, there’s definitely a look,” Maryanne sighed, watching her husband as he dunked Fanboy into the water. “He stares at you like he’ll never get enough.”

“It’s true,” Penny piped up from her spot under the umbrella. “He looks at you the same way he looked at you when you two first started dating. Like the sun rises and sets with you, like you hold the key to all of life’s happiness. Those kinds of looks don’t come around every day, sweetheart.”

Buttercup rolled her eyes and snuggled further down into her chair, determined to ignore her friends. There was no look. She and Jake looked at each other in a completely platonic, non-romantic way. If there was a look, it was the long-suffering look that parents shared with each other when their kids did something ridiculous. She opened her mouth to tell them that, but something smoky and slightly acrid filled her lungs instead.

“Hey, Rooster? Why does it smell like something is burning?”

In an instant, all the heads in the pool snapped to her. Except, it wasn’t Rooster who moved, but Jake. In one smooth move, he heaved himself out of the pool, his biceps flexing and contracting against his body weight as he swung his legs over the side of the pool.

Buttercup’s mouth turned to the Sahara as she blatantly stared at him, her eyes tracing the droplets of water that skimmed down his pecs and abs, blinking as he grabbed a white towel and quickly tousled his hair with it before picking up his tan baseball cap and slinging it over his head backwards, keeping his damp hair out of his eyes. He slung his towel over his shoulders as he strode for the grill, grabbing the tongs and flipping the burgers with practised ease.

“No look, my ass,” Natasha whispered as he passed, snorting at the dazed look on her friend’s face.

“Fuck off…” she murmured, her eyes tracing the rippling lines of his back.

“I thought Rooster was the chef here, Hangman?” Maryanne teased, her eyes watching Buttercup closely.

“Hey, everything else was done by me!” Rooster called, throwing off Fanboy’s overly enthusiastic tackle with ease. “Hangman’s just overly protective of his grill.”

“A man and his grill have a special relationship that nobody else can understand, Bradshaw,” Jake’s grin was filled with light and ease, clearly having no clue the effect he was having on his ex-wife.

“Seems like you have a lot of relationships that nobody else can understand, dude,” Javy waggled his eyebrows at him

“Did you really almost marry a former beauty queen that’s almost half your age, Hangman?” Payback asked, climbing out of the pool and catching the towel his wife threw to him.

“And can I have her number?” Fanboy smirked as he climbed onto one of the pool floaties.

“No,” Jake grimaced as he rolled the hot dogs. “Mickey, you don’t want her number.”

Javy cackled, flipping Fanboy’s floatie before he could flip Jake off. “Isn’t that the exact same thing I told you when we met her and her dad on the golf course?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Maybe. But y’all are acting like I came to my senses at the altar or something. We were barely engaged.”

“You were touring venues, Dad,” Charlie groaned as she flopped onto her towel by her mother’s feet.

“She had the Save the Date cards printed too,” Abby pointed out, sitting on the edge of Natasha’s chair.

Buttercup giggled at Jake’s expression. “They’re not wrong, Jake. You were going to marry that girl.”

Jake turned his eyes to her, and her breath caught at the anything but teasing look in them. If anything, those green eyes were heavy with guilt. Guilt and longing and a look that she recognized but didn’t want to name. Naming it made it real. Naming it made it breakable, and if it broke again, she didn’t know what she would do.

Suddenly, she was desperate to cover herself. What had she been thinking, wearing a bikini in her ex-husband’s backyard? She was too exposed, too much of her left revealed for him to see. Her hand blindly searched for a blanket or a towel or her wrap, anything to keep the heat of his gaze off her before it burned her again.

“Is this any way for a distinguished unit to greet their superior officer?”

Fanboy and Payback jumped to attention, whirling to salute Cyclone and Hondo as they strolled through the open back gate. Phoenix rolled her eyes while Javy and Rooster bestowed him with a one finger salute, and the spell that had hung between Buttercup and Jake broke. He blinked and turned back to his grill, and Buttercup ceased her senseless search for her wrap. She was being stupid. There was nothing between them, so there was no reason to cover herself up. Besides, it had taken her a long time to be proud of her body again, and she would flaunt it if she wanted to.

“Knock it off, Beau,” Penny cooed as she greeted the Admiral with a warm hug. “Everyone should be at ease today.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he smiled softly down at her before reaching out to shake Jake’s hand. “Seresin! Thank you for the invite.”

“Glad you could make it, sir,” Jake responded warmly. “I hope you brought your appetite. We’ve cooked up enough food to feed an army.”

“We’re both starving,” Hondo shook Jake’s hand. “We appreciate the invitation. I know we didn’t part ways on the best of terms.”

Jake shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s all water under the bridge.” Jake turned his attention to the grill for a moment before calling out, “Food’s almost ready everyone!”

Bob popped up from his seat under the cabana. “I’ll go get the stuff from inside and bring it out.”

“I’ll come with,” Natasha called, avoided Cyclone’s gaze with a fierce determination.

Jake’s eyes followed Bob as he put out a hand to stop her. “Actually, Phoenix, can you do me a favour and put all the meat in the trays? I’ll give Bob a hand.”

Natasha eyed him skeptically but nodded. “Sure…but if you do anything to piss him off, I’ll break your face.”

“Bold of you to assume that Charlie and Abby wouldn’t beat you to it,” Jake grinned as he followed the former WSO into the kitchen.

His former brother-in-law was standing with his back to him, his strategic mind undoubtedly figuring out the best way to get all the salads, sides, buns, and veggies out without spilling anything.

“You know, if we flip the lids so that they’re flat, we could stack the salads and I could bring them out and you—”

“Whoa, slow down there, Bobby,” Jake chuckled as he moved to stand beside him. “I want to talk to you for a second first.”

Bob’s eyes remained on the table. “What about? You and I don’t really have much of anything to discuss, do we?”

Jake flinched but nodded. “Yeah, alright, I deserve that.”

“You deserve a lot more than that,” Bob huffed. “I told her to stay away from you, and—”

“And I fucked it up,” Jake bit out. “Just like you always knew I would.”

Bob’s eyes finally raised to meet his, and there was a fire in them that Jake hadn’t seen since Natasha had been brought to the medbay, bleeding from her eye and nonresponsive.

“She was sick, Seresin,” Bob hissed under his breath. “She was so sick and you…”

Jake’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he worked to dislodge the words he had been struggling with for years. “I wasn’t around to notice.” Jake sighed even as his heart panged. “I know. I missed half of her pregnancy and then I deployed again when the twins were like three months old. I agreed to deploy again even though I knew she was struggling. And the one thing that seemed to spark her…” Jake shook his head. “I’m not trying to make excuses, Bob, but I was scared. My wife wasn’t herself, I was running on next to no sleep, the brass kept wanting me for training exercises, and the girls were so young and helpless. Everybody needed a piece of me and I couldn’t deal. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. And that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, ever since you got here.” Jake took a deep breath and held out his hand. “I wanted to thank you…for taking care of my family when I couldn’t. I know they’re your family too, but since I wasn’t capable…I’m damn glad you were.”

Bob considered his hand for a moment. “I don’t think you weren’t capable,” he muttered after what felt like hours, and he shook Jake’s hand. “I can’t imagine what was going through your mind. You always felt the need to be perfect…you put too much pressure on yourself to be perfect in every aspect of your life, and when home wasn’t perfect…” Bob shrugged and released his hand. “You both cracked under the pressure. I’m not saying it was all her fault, because she was really sick, but it takes two to get married. It takes two to get divorced too.”

Jake blinked at him. “Jesus, Bob, you’re like Dr. Phil without the accent.”

Bob scoffed and started flipping the lids on the salad bowls. “And you’re still a dick, just without the flightsuit to justify it.”

Jake laughed and started loading the condiments into a metal tray, feeling lighter than he had in a while.

“They ate everything,” Rooster muttered, gazing down at the empty metal trays and all the empty bowls. “I’m pretty sure Fanboy even ate part of the watermelon rind.”

Jake laughed loudly, clapping his friend on the back. “Why do you sound so surprised? You do remember who we’re dealing with, right?” At that, a loud crash and a screaming chorus of “We’re alright!” rang out from the backyard.

Rooster sighed, hanging his head. “I’m too old to deal with this shit anymore…”

Jake grinned and tossed his head. “Why don’t you go make sure nothing valuable got broken out there? I’ll handle a bit of the clean up in here.” Rooster shot him a look and he rolled his eyes. “Dude, it’s my house. My kitchen. Don’t worry, I’m not going to mess up your precious system.”

“Yeah, you’d better not,” Rooster muttered as he strode out the double French doors to the backyard, scooting out of the way to let Buttercup go by with the empty dessert tray.

“They’re a bunch of animals,” she sighed, taking in the mess.

Jake chuckled. “Careful, or you’re going to start sounding like Rooster.”

He started gathering up the metal trays and stuffing them into a recycling bag.

“You’re not cleaning up now, are you? Everyone wants you out there.”

Jake shrugged. “Just a bit. Rooster will have my head on a spike if any bugs get in here because we left the mess for too long.”

“Oh…” Buttercup bit her lip as she looked around, then back to him. She seemed to be steeling herself before she nodded and said, “Let me help you then.”

Jake smiled softly and murmured his thanks before the two of them fell into a bittersweet rhythm together, dodging and weaving around each other as they stacked plates, snagged garbage, and rinsed cups.

“Now, this takes me back,” Jake’s voice was wistful as he began scrubbing down the serving utensils.

Buttercup smiled as she grabbed a ladle from him to dry. “Christmas…New Years…St. Patrick’s Day…”

Jake snorted. “You were the cutest little elf I’ve ever seen.”

Buttercup gasped in mock outrage. “I was a leprechaun, thank you very much.”

“Still adorable,” Jake shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I can’t say the same for you and Santa Claus.”

Jake turned to her, letting the tongs fall into the sink with a dull thud. “What was wrong with my Santa Claus?”

“Other than that you wouldn’t let anybody but me sit on your knee, and you told Rooster and Javy to fuck off when they tried to ask you where the presents were?” Buttercup grinned at him.

“Hey, I was a very jolly old Saint Nick!”

“If by jolly, you mean horny…” Buttercup bit her lip, wincing internally. She hadn’t meant to say that. She really shouldn’t have said that. But there was something about the normalcy of being in his kitchen, cleaning up after a Daggers party. It was warm, it was calming, it was familiar.

A gush of wetness against her bare belly tore her from her thoughts and left her gasping at Jake’s cocky face.

“What?” he smirked. “You’ve been in your bathing suit all day and didn’t get wet. Thought I would help you out with that.”

Buttercup put down the dish she was drying and started winding up her towel. “Now you’ve gone and done it, Hangman,” she glared playfully at him, brandishing the wound towel in his direction before snapping it in the direction of his bare thigh.

“Hey!” he yelped, rounding the island to escape the towel’s sting. Safe behind the island, he grabbed the sink sprayer and aimed it at her, laughing at her squeals as the water rained down on her.

“Get back here, Seresin,” she cried, winding up her fabric weapon again as they began to chase each other around the kitchen. Around and around they went, water from the sprayer and the sink splashing up and towels whipping back and forth until Buttercup’s foot hit a damp patch of tile and slid out from under her.

Wincing, she braced herself for a fall…that never came.

“Easy, darlin’,” a thick arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, steadying her against a sturdy chest. A sturdy bare chest. “You alright?” Green eyes gazed down at her, worry and that touch of something that would remain nameless filling them.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she murmured, one palm braced against his pec.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning over her cool bare skin.

“Because you get to play hero?” she murmured, feeling his heart begin to beat harder and faster as she leaned against the counter, and he caged her in between his arms. They both knew she could easily escape, and just as easily tell him to back up, but she didn’t.

“Because I get to hold you again,” he admitted softly, his nose grazing hers for all of a nanosecond.

Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the heat of him press closer to her. “Jake…”

A low groan vibrated in his chest. “Tell me to stop…tell me we can’t…”

“I…” her breath shook. She knew they shouldn’t. Their situation was messy enough as it was. Not to mention he was fresh off a broken engagement. And, if this fell apart again, the girls would be devastated. She would be devastated. She couldn’t open herself up to him again…and yet, she also didn’t have the strength to say no to him. “I—”

“Hey, Seresin, I—oh!” Cyclone hesitated in the doorway. “Sorry, I’ll just…”

“It’s fine, Admiral,” Jake sighed, knowing the mood had been shattered. “What can I do for you?” His skin felt cold as Buttercup slipped under his arm and went back to drying the dishes.

“Well, there were rumours floating around that you were planning on joining us again, putting those skills of yours to good use in a few years. I was wondering if there was any merit to that?” Jake gulped as he sensed Buttercup going taut behind him, but Cyclone continued. “I was playing golf a few weeks ago with General Beaumont and he mentioned that you might want back in. Tell me the old man wasn’t just pulling my leg, Seresin. We need an Ace like you back on duty.” The clatter of metal against metal caught Cyclone’s attention, and he stopped, seeming to finally realize the tension that had clogged the air. “I should go see what Hondo got up to,” he bowed out with a slight frown in Jake’s direction before clicking the doors closed behind him.

“Buttercup…” Jake turned to see her tense back and bowed shoulders leaning against the sink.

“You want to go back?”

Jake’s eyelids fluttered closed. Shit.

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