#and not have to listen to his radio. i still have to figure out which button locks his car..

[echoingbirdsofprey]

Back Forty View (On Our Piece Of Ground)

8 - You Had Me From That First Hello

Pairings: Tyler Owens x OFC Georgia Tennley-Owens, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: nothing spectacular just some raunchy language from Jake and Tyler and pregnancy/baby talk

A/N: This chapter and the next are kind of a jumble of stuff because Jake and Sam need to go back to California soon and figure some things out lol. Nothing special with this one just lots of pregnancy/baby talk! Thank y'all for continuing to read! Hope you enjoy! Gifs by @kaizsche, pictures from Pinterest! As always likes, comments, reblogs, etc. are so so appreciated! This one has some song notes through out so hit play on those for the full experience!

Tags: @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @gpsmississippihippie @dizzybee03 @barnesboo1967 @coloraturadiva @kmc1989

It always ended the same way. Tyler and Jake would go for a short drive, out in the back forty and listen to whatever music they had on hand. This particular time, Jake had graduated Top Gun, top of his class and he’d come home to tell Kenny, Jeanie, and Tyler in person. They were going to celebrate later on, but not before the boys had their own little festivities, which included a jaunt through the wilds of Arkansas in Tyler’s new truck. Tyler had just gotten a beautiful red Dodge dually, diesel, 3500. Bone stock, but Jake knew that his brother was about to modify the shit out of it. After Jake had put his bags down in the living room, hugged his mother and Kenny, Tyler nearly dragged him out the door and pushed him toward the passenger side. Jake hopped in and they set off down the road. Tyler wanted to test the truck out first with his favorite person in the world. Jake.

They cranked the radio, Tyler putting his spotify on shuffle, with a country playlist like they always went for when they headed out on adventures. The drums, tambourine, and guitar all melded in through the speakers and out the open windows. Tyler had his cowboy hat on, a new one he’d just gotten and sunglasses, and Jake had a backwards baseball cap, one that used to be Tyler’s, and his own set of sunglasses, his favorite pair that he kept on him exclusively for show. He only wore them up in a jet, or with Tyler in the truck. 

As the lyrics flowed through the speakers, Tyler hummed and Jake stuck his arm out the window, his smile wide. When the chorus came up, both boys belted out the lyrics.

“I need a pretty little homegrown hometown girl, with a ribbon tyin’ back those waterfall curls, I been lookin’ all over all over the world, for a pretty little homegrown hometown girl!” They sung in unison, glancing at each other and smirking. 

“I know exactly who you’re talkin’ about, T.” Jake pursed his lips. He knew Tyler was still on about the girl who’d left him. Jake knew he would always be about that girl. He believed those two were soulmates, just put together at the wrong time and they’d find each other again. Damn it if Tyler wouldn’t do everything he could to find her. In the meantime though, Tyler would joke that Jake is his soulmate. 

“You talkin’ about anyone in particular?” Tyler asked, his hand gliding along the fresh, new leather of the steering wheel. The truck smelled new and they both couldn’t get enough of it. It was a comfortable ride, and Tyler was the only person that Jake trusted to drive. That was why Jake could never be a back seater. He couldn’t handle having someone in control of where they were in the air, but on the ground, he’d give up all of that to Tyler. And no matter how sketchy things got, he always put his faith in Tyler. 

“Nah, no one. I’d like a little hometown girl though. Pretty little brunette maybe? Big tits and a big ass? Someone that’d look fuckin good on my arm at Navy Balls and all that shit.” JAke said and Tyler blew air from his lips.

“Yur a slut, y’know that?” Tyler joked and Jake reached over and punched him in the shoulder lightly. “Not from our hometown though. Ain’t none’a these girls good enough for you Jake, I tell ya.”

“Nah, maybe a California girl. Pretty, tan, and like I said, brunette. She’s gotta be a brunette. God, I’d love a hot little brunette to be sitting on my couch in my Cowboys jersey, watching football on a sunday. Fuck.” Jake shook his head and Tyler couldn’t help the laugh that left his lips. He glanced over at Jake, who smirked and tilted his head. 

“Yeah and I’d take a cute lil’ blonde barrel racer girl that I could have a few kids with, a farm and go roping on the weekends. Maybe we can watch football, but maybe we could go do fun shit with the kids too.” Tyler’s smile faded slightly and then he shot a look at Jake, whose jaw stiffened. 

“Don’t ruin the mood you jackass.” Jake chucked a bottle cap at Tyler that he’d found lodged between the seats. Brand new truck and his brother already had crap everywhere. “Don’t get sentimental on me, you dick.”

“I’m not...I’m just...I don’t know. I’m gonna miss ya, Jakey.” Tyler said and Jake grabbed his brother’s shoulder. Tyler turned down a dirt road and pushed the truck a little faster, letting the suspension and tires do some work. The boys were quiet as the next song came over the speakers, making them grin. They belted the song, both of them tapping their hands on the outside of the truck as Tyler steered the monster through thickening brush and low, muddy spots.

“Gotta git down, gotta git down to Arkansas, havin’ so much fun that it’s probably a little bit against the law! All the boys and the girls down there sure know how to have a ball! If ya wanna git down gotta git down to Arkansas!”

The truck bumped along and almost bottomed out, crunching sticks underneath its six tires and heavy frame as they navigated out of the worst of the trail. On the other end was a clearing, a big field that ended at a small cliff, where it overlooked the Arkansas River. They were just in time. Tyler parked some feet from the edge and both boys climbed up onto the roof of the truck, the newly installed rack above the cab the perfect spot for them to sit. Their legs hung off in front of the front windshield and Jake pulled two cans of shitty beer from his sweatshirt pocket, handing one to his brother and cracking his own open. They gazed up at a darkening sky, watching as a storm began to build just on the other side of the river, several miles away. It was heading away east from them so they weren’t worried about it.

“There might be a tornado in that one.” Tyler said, pointing toward the front of the storm. Jake’s brows raised.

“You gonna take me on a chase any time soon?”

“Yeah when you come back from your next deployment. We’ll go. I’ll have the truck modded out by then. It’ll be able to withstand an F-1 at the least.”

“You're nuts. But I believe in you. I know you’ll get it done.”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

When Tyler and Georgia brought Jaycen home for the first time, there was a palpable fear between them. They didn’t know how to care for a kid. Sure, they’d read some books, talked to everyone they could, got a hundred opinions, but now it was up to them to really figure it out. 

They knew the first week would be exhausting. They had already been running on fumes, so any chance they got to sleep was going to be key. Jaycen was pretty consistent about sleeping. He’d be down for a couple of hours and then wake up, begging for something to eat. They’d decided it was best for them to do mixed feeding, so that if Georgia was too tired, Tyler was able to take over and feed Jaycen. Jake and Sam had also volunteered to help out, figuring they could use the experience if they wanted to have kids too. 

Samantha had really taken to the little guy. The tufts of hair on his head were her favorite thing and she gently brushed them back and forth when she held him. Jake’s favorite thing about Jaycen was that he was kind of a sassy little boy. He would stick his chubby little fingers in his mouth when he wanted food and then, and he only did it to Tyler and Jake, would smack them on their arm several times while his bottle was being prepared. Tyler was determined to keep the temperature consistent, not too hot and not too cold. Georgia appreciated his attentiveness not only to Jaycen but also to her.

When Georgia was feeling particularly tired, Tyler would bring Jaycen to her, that way if she wanted to feed him in bed she could. Georgia already adored the little boy, who had the same sage green eyes as his father. She loved looking into his big green eyes, full of curiosity for the world in front of him. Tyler’s favorite thing about the small human was that he would just stare at Georgia, his focus never leaving his mother. He understood that, because he felt the same. He loved Georgia and he knew that the little boy would love her too. 

The great thing about having Jake and Sam around was that they could help with everything on the farm. Tyler had delegated to Boone for anything for the channel and they’d made a short video introducing the newest storm chaser. There had been a lot of congratulations but there had also been some salty comments from the sore losing fangirls who thought they’d had a chance with Tyler. They even went so far as to comment on Ophelia’s videos that she’d taken of Georgia helping her, saying that Georgia didn’t know everything. Georgia would be the first to admit that though, so it didn’t bother her. Ophelia shut down everyone that came into her comments, defending her mentor fiercely. 

As for the Wranglers, there was the pro-Georgia camp and the anti-Georgia camp there. It was really just a couple of recurring girls who were pissed that Tyler had flirted with them once or twice at a bar or at a rodeo and they never got their chance with him. Tyler made it a point every time he was on the stream or in the chat that any Georgia hate was not allowed. He was even slightly passive aggressive at times, which it seemed some people actually enjoyed. He’d make comments like ‘god I love my wife so much’ or ‘can’t wait to get back out there chasin’ but am really gonna miss my wife and kid’. 

During that first week that Jaycen was home, Kate had taken over the channel with Boone. Even though they both had significant others at this point, they were still a highly chaotic couple when they were together. Boone thought it was hilarious when Kate drove, because she was honestly a bad driver. She sped far too often and hit the brake far too late most of the time. She had no consideration for either truck, so much so that Tyler and Boone were constantly sending her trucks so that she could get her own. They would do all the modifications of course and help make it perfect, but she really needed her own so that she could stop crashing and trashing theirs. 

For the first week, Tyler and Georgia kept Jaycen close to the house. The dogs were absolutely ecstatic to have the bundle of joy around. They constantly followed whoever had Jaycen in their arms, their eyes focused on the boy. Pancake loved to sit next to them on the couch and try to lick Jaycen’s feet. It would make the little boy giggle and squirm to the point he would get the hiccups. 

Grits was very protective of the boy. He would sit by whichever parent had him, almost on top of their feet and survey the room constantly. The red heeler would whine when Jaycen cried and howl when he laughed. Waffles was the one who got right up in Jaycen’s face. She would sit on the arm of the couch, touching her nose to the top of his head or sneaking in a lick to the baby’s face when she thought Georgia or Tyler weren’t looking. 

Georgia wanted so badly to take Jaycen out to the barn, but she knew they should wait. The waiting was hell though. She could see from the kitchen window that Ducati would stare at the house, as if he knew his rider had come into this world. She couldn’t wait to introduce the mustang to his kid. 

“You know how much more I love you? I mean...I loved you before, obviously...but now..it’s just tenfold. You made my dreams come true, Peach.’ Tyler said softly, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He peered down at his son in her arms and his heart overflowed with happiness. Georgia hummed and tilted her head, touching her temple to his. She blinked slowly as she looked from the squirmy bundle in her arms, to her proud husband. She leaned back against him, and he began to sway back and forth. 

“I love you too, Tyler. And I love our son too.” She murmured softly, letting him rock her gently. The motion comforted Jaycen, making him close his eyes, and drift off to sleep again. 

“Wish I could sleep as much as him. I think I’ve barely slept the past couple weeks.” Tyler admitted, letting his lips travel to Georgia’s neck. They ghosted over the skin, sending a shiver down her spine, bringing forth a smirk. 

“Wait until he’s older. We won’t get any sleep. We’ll be zombies.” She joked, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment as she enjoyed the protective presence Tyler offered. She felt so safe in his arms. She would even go so far as to say, her anxiety had decreased by at least half. She had a new brand of anxiety, but it was over caring for Jaycen, not the actual birth. That had scared the shit out of her, but as she’d told Tyler, the pain and stress had been well worth it now that they had their first child. 

“And...now that you’ve done this once...” Tyler began but Georgia stopped him, her words gentle and reassuring to him.

“Yes, Tyler, I do want another kid. And I can’t wait to see Jaycen grow up. I think he’s gonna be a lot like you.” She yawned then and Tyler chuckled. 

“Why do you say that?” Just cause he looks like me, don’t mean he’s gonna be like me. He might be like you and if that’s the case, we’re in for a wild ride. He’ll be a daredevil.” Tyler said. Georgia’s brows furrowed and she turned in his arms, sandwiching Jaycen gently between them. Tyler leaned down to kiss Georgia and then he pressed a light kiss to Jaycen’s forehead. 

“He’s quiet. I know they said you can’t tell much about them now, but I think he’s going to be smart. He just stares and you can tell he’s trying to figure things out.” Georgia explained and Tyler nodded in agreement. 

“Maybe he’s admiring his loving mama, just like his daddy does.” Tyler said, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, She pressed into his hand and glanced up into sage green. There was warmth there, and a reverence that Georgia would never quite get over. Tyler worshipped the ground she walked on, and there were times she still couldn’t believe that, after all she’d put him through. 

“He’s asleep. We should go put him in his crib.” Georgia said softly, meeting Tyler’s gaze. He agreed and he motioned for her to hand him Jaycen. She did and he took the boy up the stairs, Georgia following closely behind as they snuck up to the nursery to put him down for another nap.

It had warmed up significantly over the next week or so, giving Tyler and Georgia the opportunity they were hoping for. They dressed Jaycen in warm clothes, courtesy of their friends and family, and brought him out to the barn to see the horses. As they made their way down the aisle, Georgia said the name of each horse and pointed. Tyler followed closely behind, watching the little boy’s face light up as each horse stuck their nose out toward him. Georgia was careful, not letting them nibble or get too close, just enough to sniff. They walked out the back of the barn to the pen where Ducati was standing.

As soon as the mustang saw the bundle in Georgia’s arms, he walked toward the three humans and nickered softly. He stuck his nose through the bars of the panel fencing and Georgia let him sniff the little boy. Ducati whinnied quietly and his ears shot forward. There was a softness in the mustang’s eyes that Tyler recognized.

“He knows that’s gonna be his rider one day.” Tyler said, rubbing his hands up and down Georgia’s arms. 

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

Sam and Jake had been getting a crash course in raising a small human. Because they were able to, they did one feeding a day for Jaycen for that first week, hoping to give Tyler and Georgia some reprieve. Usually in the middle of the day, so that if Tyler had to run to the store he could, and Georgia could sneak out and check on the horses. Ophelia and Lennon had come to help, offering to do whatever Dustin couldn't. 

Tyler had to run to the grain store, leaving Georgia home with Jaycen. Jake elected to go with him, and Sam stayed with Georgia just in case she needed any help. They hopped in Georgia’s truck, as it had the open bed and headed off. 

“This is a pretty nice truck. This is hers?” Jake asked as they headed out the driveway. 

“Yeah, she’s had this since she started rodeoin’. It got trashed last year durin’ chasin’ season. I’ve been workin’ on fixin’ it for the entirety of her pregnancy. Finally got it fixed. No frame issues thank god, but I don’t know that I trust it to tow a trailer anymore after that.” Tyler explained.

“How’d it get trashed?”

“Tornado rolled it. Gee said they were goin’ pretty fast too. She got a concussion from that. Her two friends were in it and they were okay just scared the shit outta them.” 

“That sucks. She still want this truck?” Jake asked. Tyler raised a brow.

“Why, you wanna buy it?” 

“I don’t know. I kinda like it. It’s not a girly truck. It’s nice.” Jake mused. Tyler smirked at him as they pulled down the main street in Stillwater, heading through town to the store. 

‘You’re goin’ home soon aren’t ya? Tyler asked. Jake nodded.

“I do need to get back to work. They wanna do a physical and mental eval. Then they need to see if I can hack it up in a jet again. It’s not the flying I’m worried about at all. That comes second nature to me. It’s the leavin’.”

“You got the dogs though. She’ll be fine.”

“How’d you know Georgia was pregnant?” Jake asked, rolling down the window as Tyler slowed up and turned off the main strip.

“She was real sick one mornin’. Peed on a stick. It was positive, so we made an appointment with Doc Halstead and went through all the shit there. I went to every appointment too, even if I was gonna be chasin’. Rushed home for one cause I didn’t wanna miss seein’ his little heart beat.” Damn, Jake...I really love that kid already.” Tyler turned into the feed store lot and parked in the front. The nice thing about their local store was that they could order by phone or online and they got a notification when it was ready to be picked up so all they had to do was go in and give their phone number. Georgia ordered enough every week for a half a pallet, so they would use the forklift and place it in the back. When Tyler got it home, he used the forks they had for the tractor and lifted it off and placed it in the front of the barn so the only lifting that had to be ever was to put the bags in the grain room.  

“Sam and I have...yuh know...like a lot...and she’s not showing any signs.” Jake said as he was about to get out but Tyler stopped him. One of the employees had seen Tyler and waved him over to the loading dock. They knew by now that he had an order, he barely had to get out of the truck.

“Doc said all women are different and even all pregnancies are different. She said she had one woman who was sick the entire pregnancy, had to be bed ridden for the last trimester and then her next one she kept working and felt fine up until a week before her due date. Said it depends on the environment and how you take care of yourself. I’m a lot healthier than I used to be. Doc said it’s not just the women. Has to do with the guy too.” Tyler explained as he backed the truck to the dock. The employee pulled the tailgate down. 

“Sam and are are pretty good about eating healthy and what not. We exercise, stay fit.” Jake said, as he watched the employee place the half pallet of grain and supplements in the bed carefully.

“So maybe her body is just like ‘everything’s fine’ right now. When you get home if you’re really that worried, have her go to a doctor. You should talk to her about it though.” Tyler said as the employee waved to him and closed the tailgate. 

“I know, I know. We have...sort of. She’s scared to have kids.” Jake said as Tyler drove out and headed back toward home.

“Why?” He asked, glancing at Jake.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just the fact that she would be carrying around another human for nine months or if it’s because I almost died on that last deployment...”

“I venture t’guess it’s the latter. She doesn’t wanna have a kid, have all the dogs, and then get a letter from the Navy sayin’ hey your husband died flyin’ a jet, sorry. She’s scared to lose you.”

“I get it, but..she knew what she was getting herself into. Her father was an aviator too.”

“But how long was her father an aviator and deployed on missions before she grew up and understood what she could lose? And you said her father just passed not too long ago. I’m sure that weighs heavy on her mind.”

“Yeah she had lost someone else too before that.”

“Well so there’s exactly why she’s so scared. And I’ll bet she doesn’t want that kid growing up without a dad, Jake. I know you’re gonna be a great dad, but you do have to be a little sensitive to her feelings too. Don’t be so hard on yourself either. And damn it, just talk to her, like we’re talkin’ right now. Put everythin’ out there.”

“You always give the best advice.” Jake said, staring at his brother.

“You do too when I need it. That’s what brothers are for though. To give each other advice.” Tyler said and then he turned up the radio slightly, letting the music take over and fill the comfortable silence that had entered the truck. Jake’s thought traveled back to California then as he stared out the window and across the fields of wheat and corn. He had come to wonder if California was really the place for him and if he wanted to have a family out there, or if he wanted to come back home and try to raise a family here. He wanted to be close to Tyler. He’d always been his safety blanket. His balm when things got rough, so why wouldn’t he want to be closer to him and his parents. 

But he had to think about Sam too. California was all she knew, except for going to Harvard  for college, but even then she had gone home as much as she could. It was a discussion that they needed to have and Jake just didn’t know how to start it or where to start with it. He’d been putting it off for so long it felt like a monster feat to try to bring it up but he knew he needed to do it. Maybe talking all of it out before they went back to California would be the best thing, so that they could manage expectations of each other when they got back and really evaluate whether or not this was what they wanted, now that they’d gotten a taste of this life.

When they arrived back at the ranch, Tyler started up the tractor and swapped the bucket fo the forks so that he could move the pallet. Jake directed him and then once he’d placed it down, Jake began moving bags into the grain room. Tyler left the tractor running.

“You mind putting the grain in the bins? I just wanna go drag the arena. It’s my five minutes of peace and quiet to myself.” Tyler said and Jake nodded. He watched as Tyler walked up to the house quickly, meeting Georgia on the porch. She had Jaycen in her arms and the dogs all came piling out of the front door. Grits, the red heeler, peed on the grass by the first step and then ran, leapt up into the cab of the tractor and sat, waiting for his human. Jake observed for a few more minutes, watching his brother kiss his wife on the lips and kiss his newborn son, all bundled in clothes and a blanket, on the forehead. All Jake could think of then was that he did in fact, want this life. He wanted to come home to Sam and a baby. He wanted everything that Tyler was sharing with him. 

He sighed as he saw Tyler step down from the porch and Georgia walked back inside, already looking like a pro with Jaycen in one arm and the door held open for Waffles, the only one of the dogs that wanted to come back in. The little blue dog ran inside and Jake watched Tyler hop into the tractor cab, Grits taking up his place on his human’s lap, and heading off to drag the ring. Jake continued moving the bags of grain and dumping them into their respective barrels. He was almost done when he heard light footsteps coming into the barn. 

“Hey, handsome.” It was Samantha. Jake, as he crumpled up the last bag and put it in the recycling bin, smiled wide. He stepped over to her, dusting his hands off and then wrapping them around her waist. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” He said softly, pressing his lips to hers. They stayed in that moment, lips just touching, no tongues, no passionate forcefulness, just love between them. Jake was the one who broke the kiss and then his green eyes stared into the warm chocolate brown of Sam’s.

“Can we talk about some things before we go home?” He asked, and she nodded, allowing him to guide her out to the back of the barn so that they could speak in peace and private. They leaned against Ducati’s panels, the horse walking over immediately to say hi. Jake reached through the bars and placed his hand on the gelding’s forehead and scratched softly. 

“What do you want to talk about, Jake?” She asked, reaching for one of his hands. He glanced down and then back up at her, eyes full of concern. Sam clocked it immediately and she drew him in closer. “What's got you worried?”

“I’m just wondering...if you feel okay? Feel any different?” He asked and she tilted her head.

“No? Did I do something that has you asking that?”

“No, no, I just...I...we’ve...fuck...we’ve had sex...a lot...without...” Jake stuttered, trying to figure out how to start. Sam took in a sharp breath.

“I don’t feel any different, no. I...actually called a doctor, back home. I was kind of thinking I might be pregnant at this point too but... I just haven’t gotten around to taking a test and...I’m worried that there’s something wrong...”

“Maybe it’s just bad timing? Maybe it’s me? I know they said the meds I was on when I came home, the depression shit...they could affect stuff like that. Either way...maybe when they do my physical eval I can have them run some tests there too.”

“I think that sounds like a great idea...and Jake I know this is hard. Having to leave. I know you want to stay longer.” Sam moved in to put her hands on his chest and she saw his eyes grow misty. His brows furrowed and he touched his forehead to hers then.

“And I know California is your home.” He whispered. 

“It is...it’s yours too. But...Jake...we have many more years ahead of us...and we can decide, together, where we want to live.” Sam said softly, running her fingers up and down his chest.

“Do we? Have many more years?” Jake asked, tone flat.

“What?” She drew back, her stare hardening.

“Do you want this Sam? Do you want me? With everything that comes with me being in the Navy? With the possibility that what happened last time, could happen again? Or that the next time, I don’t come home? Are you really okay with that?” He asked. He felt warm breath on his hand. Ducati was standing, quietly closing his eyes to the sound of them talking. Sam took a few moments, petting the gelding’s neck and thinking over what she wanted to say to Jake.

“No Jake...to be honest the thought of losing you absolutely scares me to death, but...I love you so much that I want to give it a try. I want this. And everything that comes with it. Because I’m realizing that I really don’t wanna ever be without you...and I know...I know you’re going to go back on deployments and I know you’re going to be gone at times, but I know you’re always going to do everything you can to come back to me. To us.” She said and Jake pulled her in close, kissing the top of her head. 

“I just worry...about not being there for any kids we have. I don’t want to miss things...I don’t want...” Jake’s speech drifted off and his eyes glazed over. Sam knew he was thinking of his father, Randall, not Kenny. Jake didn’t want his kids to miss him. 

“Jake...I’m more resilient than you give me credit for sometimes. I’d be okay...and they’d be okay. And imagine how excited they’d be to have you home...”

🌪️🛻🛩️⚓

As always, Tyler and Jake took an hour, and set off in the truck. They always did this when Jake had to leave, though it wouldn’t be for another month or so, but Tyler needed the time alone with his brother. They were at a very different place and time in both of their lives, but the same sentiment. Tyler turned up the radio and even though it was chilly, rolled the windows down. The first song that came on was one that they both sung softly, but the words hung heavy in the air between them, making them both tear up.

“I’ve been thinkin’ back, summers in the woods, didn’t keep time, cause we didn’t know we should, snuck a little whiskey on the back porch, and now I’m needin’ more, so on a saturday don’t call me if you miss, I’m on a southbound train, just take me back to...skippin’ town and skippin’ classes, time passed slow, like ole molasses, the hardest part of movin’ out was movin’ on. And city lights are dim compared to southern skies and open air. The hardest part of lettin’ go was lettin’ on that I’m goin’ goin’ gone.”

They stayed quiet as the song finished, the next one filtering through the speakers, on a slightly happier note.

“I love a first cast when the water's glass and the line starts to run. Or that first sip of a cold beer when the workin’ weeks done. I love the twilight in the mornin’ fore the day wakes up, or the windows down on the first ride in a paid-up truck. And I love a slow down in a beach town with an ocean view, and I love a first fall Saturday trip down to Baton Rouge. And I love a six-string with the stars out and the campfire glow, but girl that don’t even come close ...” Both brothers hummed but they sang the chorus, each having someone in mind. Someone special.

“To the way that it feels when you lean in and kiss me, the way that you dance when you get kinda tipsy, I’m wrapped round your finger like this ring I’m wearing, that look in your eye, girl, when you catch me starin’, and I don’t even know what it is but now that I’ve found, I can’t imagine me livin’ without this back forty view on our piece of ground, watching you watch the sun goin’ down, that’s what my world spins around .” Tyler glanced over at Jake, his lips turning up. Jake’s all knowing smile met his brother’s.

“That little blond barrel racer...” Jake said, tilting his head in approval.

“That little brunette that you hadta have...” Tyler said, shook his head and reached over to pat his brother’s arm.

[possum-tooth]

this week sucks.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Like a deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : After finding out that Alastor indeed had ears atop his head, it was now time for round two of your game - his deer tail.

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 3313 Words

Genre : Fluff, Suggestive(?)

Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor,

he accidentally hurts and scares Reader

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Reader story, > Deer in headlight < , got asked for this by a few people, so here ya'll go! Hope it's as good as the first one!♡

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

It had been a week since you had discovered Alastor's ears and he had let you touch them for the first time. Sneaking on him a few times to caress or play with them, maybe even a little tug or kiss to them when none of the others were looking. The relationship between you two also changed to something different, you couldn't exactly put a name to it, but it was more than friends, but definitely less than lovers. It confused you. Alastor confused you. Once he is nice to you, cooks you dinner, and lets you play with his ears while he writes a new script, the next time he rather distances himself from you, makes jokes here and there as if he himself didn't know what to do nor how to act.

The others also had picked up on the change between you two, Angel was teasing you about it a lot, Husker just warned you to be careful, Niffty was herself like always and Charlie was super happy about how close you two seemed to have gotten now.

So now to your new mission at hand, round two of your self-proclaimed game. Figure out if Alastor has a tail and if yes, get around to touch it! But this time it seemed to be harder than before, Alastor had his guard up a lot around you now, even when he let you play with his ears. Every time your hand wanders away from his ears down to try and peak under his coat, his hand either guides yours back up to his head or he entirely gets up and leaves, making sure you cannot find out if he has a fluffy little tail.

So now you were sitting at the bar, head resting on the counter as Husker slid your favorite drink over to you. "No look yet huh sweets? Was surprised you even got around to touching his ears without injuries." Angel now sat down beside you, softly patting your back as you let out a tired groan. "I just don't get it! I mean he saw that in the it wasn't that bad when I touched his ears! So why is it so bad now if I figure out if he has a tail too!" Pouting, you sit up a bit now taking a sip from your glass. "Maybe he doesn't have one, none of us ever saw one at least. Or maybe if he has one it's a different feeling for him than his ears?" Husker was cleaning a glass now as he spoke to you. Maybe he was right but.. you really wanted to know if he had a cute matching tail. Eyes going around the foyer now as you notice Alastor making his way up the stairs.

"Al! Wait up!" Jumping down from the barstool to follow him up the stairs, he waited for you on the stairs before walking up beside you. Eyes glancing over to him, he looked calm as always, his signature smile adorning his face, staff clutched in one hand as he walked alongside you. "How can I help you today dear?" Looking over at him now, you simply followed him to where he was going. "Are you doing a broadcast today? May I listen again?" Raising an eyebrow slightly Alastor looks over to you, nodding in agreement as he leads you to his radio tower. Over the last week, you had listened to his broadcast live two times already, which made you happy that he allowed you to join him. Opening the door for you, you enter first as you immediately take a seat at the table, Alastor had put up a second chair for you. Still, you noticed how his eyes had a glimmer of suspicion at how you suddenly wanted to listen in today.

Waiting for him to start the broadcast, your head was leaning on your hand as you watched Alastor with a smile. Suddenly an idea came into your head, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to grow on your face. Alastor was focused on his broadcast, talking about something you weren't even listening to anymore. Reaching your hand over now, your fingertips softly graze his ears, as Alastor lets out a surprised yet quiet yelp, before turning his head to you with a warning glare. Returning his gaze with a smirk now, as you stand up from your seat and slowly walk over to him, he was glaring at you now. You were so close to fucking up, but this was a chance. Reaching your hand out to the back of his coat to pull it up. Quickly the > On Air < sign switched up, as Alastor grabbed your wrist in a rather right grip. Turning his head to you now, his antlers had grown in size, a red X on his forehead, and eyes turned to dials. You definitely fucked up now.

"D̷̢͙̟̼̘̊̒̑͑͝ë̸͇͍͓̲͇͂̾̓͝a̴͙̻̞̫̞̾̑̈́͑̕r̸̖͎̼̳͍̀̉̌̉̒ ̶̜͉̦͔̒̋̌̒̕ͅw̵̛̲̭̰̼͒̑̎͝ͅh̴͚̮̬̜̔̉͗̀̅ͅa̴̭͖͍̩̣͐̀̇͂̿ţ̷̛̪̣̥͓̓̆̕͠ ̴̢͓͓͙̯̂̀͋̀͘w̵̘̣̫͚͛̋͛̊͠ͅë̴̢̡̛̥̦͇́̄̉̈ř̶͓̜̗̻̓̊̐͘ͅẽ̷̮̻͈͕͎̓̌͐̈ ̵̠̝̫̺̲̑́̍̈́̈́ÿ̴̳̩͍͎̙́̌́̿̈́o̶̰̭͎͈̣̅͛͑̌͘u̶̢̝̥̞̪͋́̒̎͝r̶ ̵͕͉̫̻̤̎̐̋̾͘į̴͕͈̮̅̎̈́̀̌ͅn̸̠̳̮̤̻͆͛̔̎͋t̸̖̻̲̘̭̐̎̂̏̕e̵̞͎͎̭̗̓̍̓̉̈́n̶̬͈͎̤͉̈́̈́̈́̇̾ţ̶̱͓̥̲̅̔͋̀̚i̶̡̲͕̤̩̒̏͐̈́͝ǒ̷̗̰̯̩̻́̔̄́n̸̡̧̞̩̥̔͆̎͆̅s̵̪̣̱͔̎͒́̽͠ͅ ̷̝͍͈̥͌͂̿̏͘ͅr̶̹͚̦͉̞̈́̈́͂̋̀i̶̡̨̛͉͇͇̾͐͊̍g̸̨̛͉͎̰̖͋̒͒̓h̴̜̫͕̪͊͊̈́͝͠ͅt̷͉̳̩̰̜͗̈́̓̽̒ ̴̨̬̱̰̠̒͂̍́̏n̸̬͍̬̣̗̿̃̅́͑ǫ̸̠̰̈̊͌͗̚͜͜w̴̧̜̺̖̓́̎͗͆ͅ?̴̠̖̯̤͚̓̀̎̂͆"

Gulping once, you try to pull your arm back from his grip, which just makes him tighten it. Hissing lowly, you squeeze your eyes shut, it was slowly stinging a bit from how tight his grip was. "Al.. You're hurting me!" Alastor finally turned back to himself, letting go of your red wrist now, a print of his fingers visible as you cradled your hand against your chest. "I'm going to leave for now.." Head down as you hurriedly leave the room, closing the door behind you as you dart for your room, ignoring Angel's calls who just walked past you. Throwing yourself on your bed now, you looked at your wrist scared now. He had never used his demon form for you, there was no way of denying that he had scared you. Closing your eyes to push away the tears that were slowly building up in your eyes, as your consciousness drifts away.

"Dear, wake up." A hand on your shoulder was softly shaking you awake, lifting your head to take in your surroundings before meeting Alastor's eyes. Sitting up quickly, you scoot a bit away from him as you watch him with wide eyes. "Alastor..! What are you doing in my room?" Watching him now, as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, making sure to not make you any more uncomfortable by getting too close to you. "I'm sorry about back there, I lost it a bit, I shouldn't have." Despite smiling, you noticed that Alastor was genuinely apologizing to you. "I'm sorry, I crossed a line there, I used your trust in me listening to your broadcast live, I'm truly sorry." Laying your hand near his own carefully, letting him decide if he wants to be touched right now. Looking down, he softly takes your hand, as he presses a kiss against the red fingerprints he had left behind. His eyes were closed right now as his lips linger a second longer than they usually do. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Raising to his feet now, he gave you a soft smile, before leaving you stunned in your room.

Laying back down against your pillows, your gaze was on the ceiling as your cheeks became a soft shade of red. What was he thinking? Turning onto your side now as you hug your pillow against your chest, looking to where Alastor sat just a few minutes prior.

The next day arrives, as you make your way down the stairs to the others. Charlie was right now explaining something to Angel and Husker, hyper as always. Vaggie was simply sitting on one of the couches with a book right now, while Alastor was nowhere to be seen. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Leaning over the back of the couch now so the girl could see you as she looks over to you. "He went out rather early today, saying something about Overlords meeting and visiting a friend in Cannibal Town." Raising your eyebrows slightly at that, friend in Cannibal Town? Definitely Rosie. He probably decided to tag along with her a bit after the meeting, as she was also an Overlord. Thanking Vaggie, you go over to the other three to let Vaggie read her book in peace.

"Okay and then when Heaven agrees we could- Oh good morning!" Waving to you immediately now as Charlie noticed you coming over. Greeting them all with a smile and good morning now before Charlie starts to ramble on about her plans. It was nice seeing such a hyper and happy girl in hell, it was definitely a change to how people normally were down here.

"By the way sweets, would you mind tagging along to the city today? I wanted to go visit some clothing stores you would definitely like!" Angel laid his hand on your shoulder now as he asked you, before even thinking you agreed. It had been a while since you had last been to the part of Pentagram City where all the clothing stores were located. Besides Alastor isn't here today to try any of your attempts to see his tail nor to play with his ears. After quickly getting changed, Angel led you to the stores he was talking about. And he sure was right, you found so many good clothes to your liking in many different styles. One thing hell didn't lack was good fashion, probably thanks to Velvette from the Vees.

Leaving the store now with a lot of bags in hand, Angel decided to pull you to his favorite > cheap yet delicious < restaurant as he called it. While looking around a bit, you couldn't help but notice a certain red-haired demon walking down the streets, alongside Rosie, as their arms were hooked together, laughing. You knew they were simply good old friends, yet you couldn't do anything about this weird feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Reaching your hand out, you softly tug on Angel's shirt, head hung low. "What's it, sweets? Ya suddenly don't seem so good." His hand softly raised your chin now to look at you, noticing your pained expression. "Are ya hurt?" Taking a good look at you to make sure you weren't visibly hurt anywhere. Raising your head again, your eyes on the two other demons, Angel's eyes follow yours before letting out a sight.

"I know they're only friends but.. I feel weird seeing them I don't even know why myself!" The bag you were holding dropped to the ground, before hiding your face in your hands. "Sweets, if you ask me that sounds as if ya're jealous.." Angel's hand softly patting your head now as you raise your head, eyes meeting his. "But.. That would mean.. And he would never reciprocate.." Tears were building up in your eyes, before you knew it Angel pulled you into a comforting hug, softly patting your head. "It's going to be okay sweets." Staying there for a good minute or two, before you calmed down again. What you didn't see was a certain dial eyes watching you, as Angel had his arms around you and your body against his chest.

Deciding to head back to the hotel for now, Angel said he would take you to the restaurant another time. Back at the hotel you for now decided to head back to your room for a little rest. The shopping bag is thrown onto a chair before flopping down on your bed. A sigh leaves your lips. The last few days really weren't the best for you and were slowly wearing you down.

"Say dear, I thought we had a deal of you not touching others~" A radio static voice suddenly sounded through your room, sitting up you looked around frantically, eyes stopping on a dark corner of your room. Red eyes watching you, a shadow figure beside them grinning at you. Before you could know it, your body was pressed to the bed with Alastor on top of you. "W-What do you mean!? Angel was simply comforting me! Besides you were also all over Rosie!" Thrashing around now, as you try to push Alastor off of you, but he was simply too strong for you. "Oh, so you're jealous sweetheart? Was that payback then?" Alastor head was lowered as he whispered those words into your ear making your eyes grow wide. "He was comforting me because I was crying! Which I by the way was because of you!" Staring into your eyes now, Alastor was at a loss for words. You were crying? Because of him on top of that? Before he knew it, he watched your eyes fill with tears again daring to flow over. Now he had fucked up this time.. Again.

"D-Don't cry! Dearest I'm sorry." Scooting off of you now, he sits beside you not really knowing what to do, he never had to deal with someone besides Niffty crying. And Charlie, but that was a different story. Your hands rubbing over your eyes now, trying to get rid of the tears. Before you knew it, the culprit of your tears grabbed your hand, leading it to his head. Alastor wasn't great with words to comfort you, but this was his way of trying to comfort you after screwing up, which you deeply appreciated. Looking up at him now, eyes red from crying, as your hand starts to softly rub over his ears. "I meet up with Rosie to ask her for advice on what to get you as an apology for last time." Pulling out a little box from his coat now, he hands it to you. Sitting up, you take the red box from his hands, opening it slowly. Inside was a gold necklace with a red pendant in a tear shape. "It's beautiful.." You were at a loss for words right now, you didn't think he would get you something like this as an apology. "Let me put it on you dearest, turn around." Moving yourself now that your back is to him, you softly move any hair out of the way so he can put the necklace around your neck. Hand reaching down as you take the pendant between your fingers. "Thank-" Your words were interrupted by a soft kiss being pressed to your neck, but as you turned around, Alastor was gone, and only caught a glimpse of his shadow disappearing. Hand reaching to the place you had felt him kiss. Did you only imagine that? No, he definitely kissed your neck.

The next day you wanted to ask Alastor about it, but he was nowhere to be seen, as if he was avoiding you, which made you a little bit sad. Did he regret it?

Till now you also were not able to accomplish your victory in this little game. Making yourself question if you were ever going to figure out if he had a little deer tail. Turning around now, you caught a glimpse of red hair disappearing, making you dart right after him. So he truly was avoiding you! Before he could close his door, you put your foot between the door and the doorframe. "Open the door, I won't go away!" It took almost a whole minute for him to open the door, entering the room, the door is closed behind you. Crossing your arms in front of your chest now, you turn around to face Alastor now. "Are you avoiding me?" Static radio error. "Of course not dear! Why should I?" He was obviously more than nervous to be talking to you right now. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because since yesterday you've been running away from me and not shown your face once?" Looking at him skeptically now, he tried to look composed as always with his smile, but you noticed how his smile was slightly strained and his hand clenched just a bit tighter around his staff. "If this is about the kiss and you regret it just say it please, I won't be mad at you." Your eyes were avoiding his now. Oh if only you knew it was the complete opposite.

"Listen dear, it's not that.. It's.. How do I say, rather the opposite? I have been feeling rather drawn to you, wanting to get closer but.. I don't quite know how to handle these emotions." For once Alastor looked nervous, something you had never truly seen on him, he seemed so unsure. Holding out your hand, waiting for him to perhaps take it, which he did. Eyes locked on your hands, as he was softly playing with your fingers, slowly linking them together. "Listen it's okay, take as much time as you need to figure this out okay?" A soft smile was on your lips now, trying to reassure and calm him, but it had quite the opposite effect on him.

"May I kiss you?" Blurting those words out without even thinking about it, both of you were staring at each other with blown eyes now. You question yourself if you heard correctly and Alastor questions his sanity by asking you this, was he completely going crazy now? "If you want to, I allow you to do anything you want, I trust you." Now this surprised him, he indeed wanted to try this but.. he had never kissed anyone before. Not while alive, and certainly not while dead. Slowly his hand lays on your cheek as he pulls you closer to him, angling your head so you are looking at him. Your hands softly grab onto the front of his coat, eyes closed to give him full control. Alastor could either take his time or pull away entirely, it was all up to him, you let him go at his own pace.

And before he knew it, he was leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It felt different than he had imagined, it felt warm and comforting. It was a simple soft peck, nothing too spectacular, but for both of you, it was something special. When he pulled away again and you looked up into his eyes, you noticed movement behind him, your eyes lowering and noticing something moving under the backside of his coat. Eyes glancing with interest now, Alastor's eyes following yours to what you were looking at, a sigh leaving his lips. Before you knew it, Alastor was shrugging his coat off, his shadow hanging it somewhere in the room. And there it was, a fluffy deer tail, that was right now softly swishing from side to side, it was adorable. Alastor was a sight right now. His ears were pointed towards you, a blush over the bridge of his nose while his tail swished from side to side.

Reaching out your hand to touch his tail with sparking eyes, his hand stops yours as he watches you. "Once. It's different than my ears, one pat and that's it darling." Nodding in agreement, he turns around a bit as your hand softly pats over his tail once. It was soft just like his ears. Looking up with a smile now, his head was turned to the front, but his ears were turned to your direction, which looked super adorable. "Well since I was only allowed to pet your tail once, I would like to pat your ears again!" Smiling up at him innocently now, he exactly knew how this would end.

And he was correct, he was now lying on his bed with you, his head on your stomach as you were contentedly playing with his ears. Even though it would probably take a while till both of you knew how to call this relationship, you were more than happy that your one hand was busy patting his ears, and the other one was softly held by the red-haired man. You could get used to this.

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Taglist :

@mysticwitchcraftco @biromanticboba @yellowelectroslime

[sturnioz]

shy!reader decides to show up at a frat house party after almost a week of radio silence.

꒰ part one ꒱ — ꒰ part two ꒱— ꒰ part three ꒱

you were telling the truth when you told kitty and nick that you were super busy. the timing of being swamped with classes and assignments, coupled with the betrayal and hurt of being isolated from the frat formal, actually worked in your favour. it provided a much-needed distraction.

your classes kept you somewhat sane. yet, the constant buzzing of your phone from chris became a source of anxiety, which made you eventually decide to put your phone on do not disturb.

you hated doing that to him—it felt hard and unkind—but you needed to focus. each time his name lit up the screen, guilt and frustration washed over you, but you knew you had to prioritise your studies.

it might seem hypocritical to say you had no time for distractions, especially since you still made time to meet up with kitty and nick for lunch. their company was a pleasant break from the weight of your responsibilities.

you even found yourself opening up about chris, wearing your heart on your sleeve as you shared the confusion and frustration you felt — letting them know that you struggle to articulate how difficult it is to figure out your emotions of what's right and wrong, especially since you weren't even officially dating him.

they listened to you patiently, letting you spill your thoughts while they threw in the occasional sarcastic remark about chris, and eventually, they gently nudged you toward the idea of talking to him.

after some hesitation, you agreed. deep down, you knew you had to. you're not a mean person; you don't have a mean bone in your body, and ignoring chris' calls and texts felt like the closest you'd ever come to being unkind. that realisation weighed heavy on you.

however, the thought of facing him made your stomach churn. the idea of seeing chris after having been 'mean' left you on edge, your heart racing at the possibilities. but, you reminded yourself that communication is essential, even when it feels so daunting.

talking to him felt like a long shot, but you were willing to take that leap.

friday afternoon arrives quicker than you initially anticipated, and your palms feel clammy as you walk beside your friend, heading toward the familiar frat house that's already overflowing with students, laughing, and the thumping bass of loud music.

as you approach the entrance, your lips part in surprise when some of the frat brothers notice you — their wide, goofy grins spread across their faces, and they wave at you drunkenly. you smile shyly in response, turning their waves with a small, but kind, gesture before your friend pulls you further into the house.

it doesn't take long for your eyes to land on chris. he's sprawled on the couch, man-spreading, a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. he's glancing up at a guy standing over him holding a wad of cash, and you watch as chris holds the joint between his lips before dipping his hand into his pocket, pulling out a baggie of colourful pills and handing it over in exchange for cash.

"where have y'beeeeen?" a voice jolts you from your thoughts, and you turn just in time to see nate approaching, his arms swinging wide as he embraces you in a drunken hug. his cheek smushes against yours, and you catch a whiff of alcohol and weed on his breath. "i felt like fuckin' hansel 'n gretal leavin' a trail of apples f'you to find your way back, kid."

his words making you giggle, and your friend steps in to help untangle you from nate's affectionate grip, causing him to huff dramatically as he leans into her, his arm wrapping around her waist instead.

"come on," your friend urges, trying to tug nate away from you. "let her go speak to chris."

"good luck... been a fuckin' asshole all week," nate murmurs with a drunken slur, and your smile begins to falter, a wave of unease washing over you. you know all too well that you're likely the reason for chris' mood. as nate stumbles backward, he turns his head, pointing at you with a grin, "m'serious about them apples! they're in the fridge f'you!"

as they move away, the laughter and music fade into the background, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what's about to happen. your stomach swirls and churns with each step, the anticipation and anxiety building as you near chris, who remains unaware of your presence — too absorbed in taking a hit of his joint and counting the crumpled bills in his hand.

just as you're about to stand directly in front of him, his eyes flit up to meet yours. you give him a timid smile, hoping for a sliver of recognition or even warmth, but it falters and falls when he looks away, completely ignoring you.

the sting of his dismissal hits you like a brutal punch to the gut, and suddenly, you feel like you might be sick.

this wasn't how you had planned it in your head. you weren't supposed to be ignored... you were supposed to talk, to find some common ground, and hopefully, to be fine again.

your head is spinning, and your mind is clouded with confusion and hurt. the room starts to close in around you, the drunken students moving like a tidal wave, and you panic, your heart hammering against your chest.

in the midst of your spiralling, you catch sight of matt and kitty sitting on an armchair in the corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you. kitty pushes herself off of matt's lap, and matt follows closely behind, both seeming to make a beeline for you. but before you can even fully process their approach, your arm is suddenly caught in a tight grasp.

you're whisked away upstairs before you can even blink, the world around you blurring as you're pulled away from the chaos. panic surges through you, but gradually, a sense of relief washes over you when you're yanked into a familiar bedroom—chris' bedroom—and shock courses through you as you turn to see that it was him who brought you up here.

"relax," he grumbles, shutting the bedroom door behind you, which partially mutes the music from downstairs. "fuckin' dramatic for no reason."

even with his blunt, harsh words, there's an odd comfort in them, and you hate the realisation of how much you have missed him. the urge to suddenly hug him overwhelms you, but you hold back, wrapping your arms around yourself instead.

"nice of you to finally fuckin' show up," he continues, his gaze piercing as it drills into you, making you chew down on your plush bottom lip. he scoffs, shaking his head. "what? got nothin' to say? just—just gonna come here 'n show your face? all silent 'n shit?"

"i was busy," you respond, grasping at the same words you've been using all week, and the second scoff that escapes him makes you frown.

"right, right... 'cos it uh, didn't seem like you were busy when you were meetin' up with kitty and nick, yeah?"

"they met me for lunch on campus," you explain, your eyebrows furrowing a little. "i was still on campus.."

"what's your problem?" his question catches you off guard, and you blink, momentarily stunned. "like, what is goin' on? two weeks ago, you were fuckin' fine, and now you're ignorin' me? did i do somethin'?"

you take a deep breath, your eyes flitting to the side, searching for the right words before you murmur, "you didn't tell me about the formal."

"oh my god," your gaze snaps back to chris as he takes off his hat, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. a laugh of disbelief escapes his lips. "that—that's what this is about? 'cos... 'cos i didn't tell you about a fraternity formal that you have no interest in?"

you frown softly, "when did i—"

"kid, y'don't even like fuckin' frat parties, what makes you think you'd like a formal?" he huffs, rubbing at his jaw frustratingly. "y'wouldn't have even gone."

"it's the thought that counts," you reply, a bit more defensively than intended. you fidget on the spot, your fingers twisting together nervously as you try to steady your racing heart. "i... i would've liked to have been asked or something."

"yeah? so i could stand there 'n hear you say no?" chris shoots back, rolling his tongue across his teeth. "kid, i knew you would say no. that's why i didn't fuckin' ask — knew you wouldn't like that shit."

"but why didn't you tell me about it in the first place?" you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, that frustration and hurt bubbling to the surface as you swallow thickly. "is it because you was taking her?"

"not everythin' i do needs to be told t'you, kid," chris responds sharply, his tone cutting through the air like a knife. he then pulls a face, "her?"

"cherry." you whisper her name, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tight knot forming in your stomach.

"che—i didn't take cherry," he stares at you incredulously, his brows knitting together. "why the fuck would i take cherry? i went alone, dumbass."

his reaction catches you off guard, and you can't help but push. "but everyone saw you with her? and the photos?"

"yeah, she was there, but i didn't fuckin' take her — she was feignin' for them fuckin' pills, kid," The bluntness of his words strike you hard, and suddenly, embarrassment washes over you. you realise you had jumped to conclusions, just like everyone else, and you look down, biting your tongue as you desperately search for something to say.

silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable, and your gaze finds its way back to chris, who is already staring at you as if he's trying to decipher your thoughts. he tilts his head slightly, crossing his arms over his chest, a posture that feels confrontational.

"besides," he begins, his tone shifting to something more matter-of-fact, "shouldn't really matter to you who i go with, right? 'cos we're not datin', kid. we're just sleepin' together, yeah?"

his words hang in the air like a cold reminder, and you nod your head slowly in response.

"do y'wanna stop?" he asks suddenly.

you didn't expect that question, and your heart races. "what?"

"m'givin' you an out, kid.. d'you wanna stop?" his gaze is unwavering, searching your face for an answer, and you can sense the weight of the choice he's placing in front of you.

you think over his question for a moment, and you think hard, weighing the options. ending this arrangement with him would certainly be a lot less complicated, but the thought leaves you hallow.

chris has become the normal for you. he's apart of your routine, a presence that even though frustrates the hell out of you and makes you so confused, he also brings you an odd comfort and excitement. and not only are you experiencing new sexual things with him, you are enjoying the pleasures that come with it too.

"no," you answer softly, "no, not really."

"alright..." chris hums, and you watch as his shoulders seem to relax, his arms uncrossing from his chest at your response. he nods his head, licking his lips to wet them, before he asks, "you stayin' over or you plannin' on bein' busy again?"

your face heats up, your nose scrunching up and your lips forming into a small pout as your murmur. "i was serious about being busy..."

"yeah, okay, bun."

© STURNIOZ

[vitalverstappen]

Cassandra - C. Leclerc

summary: when everyone believes you, what's that like?

pairing: Charles Leclerc x platonic teammate! reader

warnings: Mattia Binotto, swearing, some sexist comments

word count: 3k

a/n: in honor of max winning the WDC, i figured i'd post something. in honor of charles finally losing his shit on the team radio, i figured i'd post this. also it takes place during the 2022 season

masterlist

the tortured drivers department masterlist

2022 was supposed to be your year. You broke onto the F1 scene in 2020 with Haas after working your way up through F3 and F2, championing both levels of racing with ease. You proved yourself time and time again by consistently placing within the points in a less than superior car. 

That’s how you got the attention of Ferrari. They offered you a one year deal, and you couldn’t turn it down. You were okay with being the second driver, because you were racing for the most historic team in F1. 

Things started out great. The car was a major upgrade from the tractor you were driving with Haas, and the team actively listened to your input and took having a woman in the car seriously.

You and Charles also clicked instantly, which led to some amazing content for the social teams. 

“Anything you need, or feel needs changed, let us know. We’re a family here” Mattia said as he gave you the tour of the Ferrari factory.

You couldn’t have drawn up the first two races any better. Both you and Charles were on the podium and it looked like you two were going to give Max and Red Bull a run for their money in the championship races. 

The downward spiral started in Australia. From the moment you hit the track for the first time, something felt off. The car was sluggish, it took all of your strength to accelerate and brake properly. 

“There’s something wrong with the car.” you told the team, your frustration mounting. “It takes forever to accelerate and then when I do, I can’t break”

“Have you tried leg day?” Mattia asked, a smirk forming on his face, causing you to storm away and find your mechanics. 

The Australian Grand Prix ended up being a disaster. You struggled through the laps, barely able to keep up with the field. The car was just too much of a handful. Thirteen laps in, you hand no choice but to retire from the race. The speed was gone, and your confidence was shot. 

“I cannot believe he looked me in the eyes and said ‘try leg day’” You fumed as you barged into Charles’ driver room. The frustration was evident in every word, your anger still fresh from the weekend’s events. 

Charles looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow at your entrance. “Well hello to you too” he said with a small chuckle. “What’s going on?” 

You let out a deep sigh and recounted the car troubles and the interaction with Mattia. “He actually said ‘try leg day’ to me, like it’s some kind of joke. What happened to ‘if you need anything, let me know’?”

Charles listened intently, a sympathetic look crossing his face. “Hopefully it was just an assembly issue” he said, trying to ease your frustration. ”Imola should go smoothly for the two of us. We both know you’re a hell of a driver.” 

Imola was next, and that was somehow even worse than Australia. Instead of acceleration and braking problems, the new issue was the engine. It had to be replaced between practice 3 and qualifying, only for the new one to fail during the race in Imola. 

“I have the utmost trust in my team.” You said during your press interviews “We’ve tried upgrades, but they’ve fallen flat. Hopefully Miami provides some better results” 

For Miami, the team had reverted your car back to the original set up, the one it had when the season started. The difference was night and day. The car felt responsive, alive in ways it hadn’t in the past few races. As you flew through all three practice sessions and qualifynig, you could feel the weight lift from your shoulders. You had been pushing the limits all weekend, and it had paid off - P2, only behind Charles. Things were looking up. 

The problem now was the strategy. As the number two driver, you knew your strategies were mostly going to be defend defend defend but you didn’t realize how badly Ferrari’s lack of adaptability would come into play 

The race was shaping up to be intense. Charles had led most of it, with Max behind him. You were right behind Max, keeping a steady pace, but always aware of the massive pressure from the drivers behind. Then, when Charles pitted, you thought, for sure, you’d get the green light to battle Max for the lead. After all, you were right there, in prime position.

Instead, the radio crackled to life. 

“Y/n keep defending. Leclerc will be back up there in no time.” Your engineer said

You blinked, incredulous. “I’m sorry what?” You couldn’t believe what you just heard. 

“Defend Max. Charles will be back up there to take over. Hold your position” he repeated as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Are you fucking serious?” you barked back, your grip tightening on your steering wheel. “I can overtake him for the lead and you want me to defend?!” 

Before your engineer could respond, Mattia’s voice boomed over your radio “Defend y/n. Team orders.” 

You could feel your irritation building, but there was no choice. Ferrari had spoken. You stayed behind Max, holding position, and waiting for Charles to catch up. Sure enough, Charles had soon found his way back to you, but by that point, Max was far enough ahead that any shot at victory was all but lost. 

Later, in the media pen, you stood with the press surrounding you, microphones, shoved in your face. They asked you the usual questions, but you were still stewing over what had happened. 

“Yeah, I mean the car felt great” You started, trying to keep your tone even. “We reverted back to the original, pre-upgrades and the car showed it’s worth”

The reporter pressed further. “Now even though the car was great, why do you think you couldn’t pull off the win? You were less than a second behind Max, and chose to defend your position instead of attacking.”

A disappointed sigh escaped your lips. You were tired of repeating the same frustrations. “If it was up to me, I would have attacked. I know we would’ve gotten a different result on the podium today. If we had a different strategy, then we would have gotten many more points.” 

“How do you think this result is going to impact the championships?” another reporter asked 

You paused, considering the question. “It could make or break it. There’s a large jump of points between one, two and three, and one thrown away strategy can make or break a shot at either championship. I’m just hoping they don’t mess up Charles’ strategies like they have mine.” 

As you finished your media duties, you made your way back to the garage, expecting to be alone with your thoughts. But to your surprise, Charles was waiting for you.  

“What are you doing here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you approached

“I, uh, wanted to congratulate you on P3. You had a good race out there” He said sheepishly, his hands shoved in his pockets.

You shrugged, the weight of the day still on you. “I could have won if my strategy wasn’t total shit.” you muttered, your tone flat.

Charles let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it. P1 and P2 would have been great, but strategy isn’t Ferrari’s strong suit” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours with a shared understanding.

“So I’ve learned.” you replied dryly. “I just hope it isn’t bad enough to fuck up winning either championship” 

He nodded, a look of quiet concern in his eyes. “So do I. I’m terrified my shot at a driver’s championship is gonna slip away” 

Before you knew it, your interview was trending all over social media. Clips of you talking about the strategy missteps were circulating, and the Tifosi and general F1 fans alike were all over it. They didn’t believe you. They thought you were complaining, too bitter about the loss, and some even accused you of undermining the team. The backlash was stiff.

User1: there’s no way they’re going to mess up the golden boy’s strategy. Mattia cares too much about winning to do that

User2: y/n doesn’t know racing. She’s obviously going to get the shit strategy - she’s not charles 

User3: Ferrari needs to get rid of her. She doesn’t belong here #burnthebitch

Before media day in Spain, you got called into Mattia’s office. 

“Thank you for joining me on such quick notice y/n” Mattia said with a smile as you walked in 

You gave him a polite smile as you sat across from his desk “Of course. Why did you call me in?” 

The smile on his face instantly hardened “We need to talk about how you approach the media. You embarrassed myself, along with the rest of the Ferrari staff during Miami.” 

You found yourself fixing your posture and dropping the smile you had previously, prepared to go toe to toe with your principal. “I would say I told the truth on how the race was handled. We could have left Miami with eleven more points, had we gone P1 and P2”

Mattia sighed “That may be true, but we know you couldn’t have battled Max safely. Regardless, that was two weeks ago. We need to focus on Spain now.” 

“Whatever” You mutter “ If we provide sufficient results, I’ll give you praise. If we don’t, I’ll keep mentioning what needs to be done better. Simple as that” 

Spain turned out better for you than it did for Charles. You had finished P4, while Charles was forced to retire. Another blow for Ferrari. 

Both of you managed to score points in Monaco. The car felt good and it seemed like the team was back to how they were at the start of the season. That is until Baku. 

The start of the race seemed like it was going well. The practices and qualifying went well. Charles was on pole and you were not far behind him at P4. But that’s when the good luck ended. Just like the Australian Grand Prix, your brakes were faulty, and this time your clutch wasn’t working. 

“Check the hydraulics - brakes aren’t working again and clutch is out.” You voiced over the radio, concern filling your words 

After a few moments of silence, your engineer’s voice filled your ears. “Seems we have a uh hydraulic problem. You need to retire the car.” 

You muttered a curse as you found a spot to pull your car off. If it wasn’t a strategy issue, it was the car. If it wasn’t the car, it was something else. Something always had to go wrong. 

It was only lap eight and Charles was still driving. You had some hope he could get points for the team and for his championship. 

Throwing on a spare headset in the Ferrari garage, you watched as Charles battled through the streets of Baku. Just as quick as he was driving, the problems with his car also began to show. He had to retire only a handful of laps later with a power problem. 

While Ferrari’s golden boy wouldn’t have a negative thing to say about them during the pressers, you had much less of a filter. 

“You can mark my words that we aren’t winning a championship this year. As much as I want to put faith into our team and our strategies, we’ve shown time and time again we come up short.” 

Instead of your remarks being pushed aside by everyone, you found yourself in the spotlight. All eyes were on you as you walked into the paddock for the British Grand Prix. You acknowledged your team out of respect, and they greeted you back, but you could tell there was tension. 

“Mattia wanted me to tell you that the strategy for today is the same as usual: protect Charles.” Your engineer told you as the two of you sat down for lunch

You furrowed your eyebrows “Why couldn’t Mattia tell me that himself?” 

“He doesn’t think you deserve his time and energy” He said, rolling his eyes 

A scoff left your lips “That’s ridiculous. We’re both adults. He needs to act like it.” 

“You’re telling me” Your engineer muttered 

Before you knew it, it was lights out at Silverstone. The race was a disaster for everyone. While a scary crash had been cleaned up, leading to a restart, another safety car was put out for a stopped car. 

“Y/n box box” Your engineer spoke through your earbuds 

Under the safety car, you were able to pit and get fresh soft tires. When the race resumed, you quickly found yourself behind Charles. 

“Am I defending again?” You asked 

“You are free to overtake, but you must give up the position once Charles gets back up after pitting” 

“You mean Charles didn’t box under the safety car?” 

“Correct.” 

“Fucking idiots” You sighed, but did as you were told. 

Charles easily gave up the front position to you as he headed to the pit lane. You expected him to make a quick comeback in the next few laps, but as the laps ticked by, the gap remained. The radio crackled with instructions from your engineer, and you kept your focus, pushing through. 

And just like that, you crossed the finish line. Your first Grand Prix victory. 

The celebrations were a blur - the podium, the champagne, the flashing cameras. As the trophy was handed to you, you felt a surge of pride, but the weight of the race still hung in the air. Charles had been a force throughout the race, and even though you had won, it felt wrong that he hadn’t been able to capitalize on his pace. 

After the post-race formalities wrapped up, you found yourself in Charles’ room, finally able to breathe. He greeted you with a grin, the kind that only someone who experienced a dramatic race could wear.

“Congratulations! First win!” Charles said, his voice full of enthusiasm 

“You should have fucking won that and we both know it.” You said as you tossed him a Gatorade 

Charles caught the bottle with a small chuckle, cracking it open “You’re fucking telling me.” he said, taking a long swing. “At least Mattia didn’t chastise you on national TV.” 

You leaned against the wall, your arms crossed. “Maybe we’ll both be off speaking terms with him by the end of the season,” you joked, but there was no humor in the situation. “But seriously, what did he say?” 

Charles groaned, clearly not looking forward to recounting the conversation “Basically that I needed to listen to team orders. He was pissed that I was pissed that I didn’t win the thing. Said I needed to trust that the team knows what they’re doing.”

“They know what they’re doing?” You raised an eyebrow “Because the last time I checked, they’ve messed up both of our races this season” 

“Tell me about it” His tone shifted, frustration building, “I need him out.” 

A small grin tugged at the corner of your mouth “Twenty bucks he’s out of his job by the end of the season” 

Charles hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand “Deal” 

The rest of the season trudged along, with highs and lows in the car, the strategy, and the relationship between Mattia and his drivers. There were some days he would be all over their radios encouraging them, while others he would avoid them like the plague. 

And sure enough, once Abu Dhabi came, Charles and Ferrari were so far behind Max and Red Bull that it was impossible to catch up to them in either championship. Mattia announced that he would be stepping down at the end of the season, and you had repaired your rocky relationship with your team, allowing you to renew your contract with Ferrari. 

It was the final time in the media pen this season, and it felt much different. The usual questions about the ups and downs of the season were there, but now they came with a certain respect - respect for the struggles you had endured and for the candidness with which you handled it all. Your honest take on Ferrari’s performance had earned its fair share of criticism, but it had also sparked conversations, both within the paddock and among fans. 

The final question from the reporter hit differently. The interviewer’s tone wasn’t mocking, but rather filled with a certain curiosity. “How does it feel to know that you had called it earlier in the season, that Ferrari weren’t going to win either championship this year?”

The question hung in the air for a moment as you processed it. The emotions of the entire season flashed through your mind: the excitement of the podiums early on, the disappointment after races like Miami and Baku, the frustrations with the strategies, and the battles you fought on and off the track. It had been a rollercoaster, and while it hadn’t turned out the way you had hoped, you were still standing. 

You cracked a smile as you spoke, a mix of pride and exhaustion “Oh, so you guys believe me now?” you said, your voice light but laced with the weight of everything that had happened. “Have a good winter break. I’ll see you in Bahrain” 

It was the moment of closure you needed. The reporter thanked you for your time, before wishing you a good break as well. As you walked away from the media pen with Charles by your side, the season’s tension finally seemed to release, at least for a moment. 

Charles, sensing the mood, nudged you. “That was… honestly, impressive. You know, calling it before anyone else.” 

You let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I guess I had a feeling.” you said, shrugging. “At least I wasn’t wrong.”

Charles smirked, clearly tired but also relieved that the season was over. “Let’s just hope next year’s a little less… chaotic, yeah?”

“Agreed.”

[alchemistc]

The call comes in just after 2 PM, and Tommy's in the air five minutes later. White male, early thirties, took a tumble off the incline at one of the intermediate hiking points near Griffith Park, the engine can't winch him up without exacerbating his injuries.

It's a quick flight. Nothing remarkable at all, until Hurst has been down on the ground for a few minutes too long and then Tommy's captain is on the radio asking him to hand over the controls to his copilot the moment he lands at Presbyterian.

He's pissed about it the entire length of time it takes for the winch to pull up Hurst and their new passenger - time and a half for a 48 hour stretch isn't anything to scoff at.

And then he hears Hurst rattling off information as the door shuts, and he's desperately trying to remind himself that no amount of outside noise has ever distracted him before.

Evan Buckley, 33, moderate concussion, sprained ankle, three broken fingers, possible broken ribs, pulse is steady but BP is trending high.

Happy fucking Thanksgiving.

---

Tommy's phone rings as they're making the handoff at, and he answers more out of habit than anything else. It's Cap again.

"You can either ride shotgun back and be man behind or I can shift your time and a half somewhere else because you've had a family emergency," Hobbes says, and Tommy would love to have a snappy retort but he's still thinking about the way Buck had come out of it enough to tell Hurst his boyfriend - "ex-boyfriend, sorry" - flies for 217 too. Hobbes clears his throat. "Considering your last family emergency was when I forced you to take a holiday off, I know which one I'd choose."

Tommy blinks. They're almost to the doors.

"I'll see you in a few days, Captain," Tommy murmurs and hauls ass towards the retreating medical team wheeling Buck into the hospital.

---

He'd listened while Hurst and her partner - a loan from 136 he still hasn't actually been introduced to - pumped some pain meds to keep Buck from hurting himself more, but it's still a surprise to see how zonked he looks, pupils wide and eyes glassy as he blinks slow blinks up at the ceiling, the doctors, and Tommy.

Buck tries to tip his head sideways when he catches sight of him, and pulls a face when the C collar impedes the movement. A hand snags out, catches on the seam of Tommy's flight suit, and Tommy can't quite help himself. He reaches out and holds the hand in place.

It's easy to keep pace with the orderly as they leave the elevator, and Tommy knows exactly how many doors he's allowed through before he's got to make his way to the waiting room and figure out where the fuck to go from there.

Buck's face is scraped up good on one side, and the hand not in Tommy's is splinted too much for him to catch the full damage. There's more blood than Tommy can consciously account for in the moment, although most of it looks to be drying. The hand in his squeezes. "S-someone should ca-." He winces. Seems to lose his train of thought. Rolls back around to it right before the final set of doors. "You'll call Tommy?" he asks, a desperation on his face that does something ruinous to Tommy's gut, but the orderly has already slowed down and now she's looking a little like she'll shove Tommy off if he doesn't let go of her patient.

Tommy nods. Squeezes. "I'll call Tommy."

Buck's smile is lopsided and loopy as Tommy lets go of his hand.

"Good," he murmurs, and the doors swing wide and then shut behind him, and Tommy spends a solid five minutes staring at the spot where the red striping in the tile at his feet doesn't quite match up to its neighboring tiles.

---

He's a coward, so he calls Eddie first and puts his foot in it immediately.

"Why was Buck alone on a hike on Thanksgiving?" he asks, before Eddie's even finished his greeting, and he's glad he's stepped outside to make this call. He's not moderating his volume at all.

Eddie pauses. Seems to reboot. "Wait, what?"

Tommy recounts what he knows, which isn't a whole hell of a lot, if he's being honest. "So. When can I expect the cavalry?"

Eddie's silent for a beat too long. "I'm in Texas, Tommy. Is he - is it serious? How bad -?"

"He was conscious. Slightly more than superficial injuries. He'll - recover."

He'll be fine doesn't have the right ring to it, when he's just watched the man wheeled away without even recognizing Tommy.

"He went on a hike? What kind of idiot -?" Eddie asks, and then he's silent for a beat too long. "Tommy, don't take this the wrong way, but if there's even a small part of you telling you to make a break for it, do it now before he has a chance to get his hopes up."

Tommy feels it like the knife it's meant to be. It'd be shutting the door, really - in the short term, he'll remember asking someone to let Tommy know, and he'll assume Tommy didn't show. In the long term he'll remember exactly who he'd spoken to and he'll be pissed enough to make it a clean break.

It hasn't even been a month, and Tommy's out of distractions. No work, no house to clean and reorganize, no engines to tinker with, a phone on half battery.

"I need to call Maddie," he says, and he can hear the echo as Eddie shifts to speaker.

"No need. She's on her way. With like, half the station, apparently." He rattles off what must be a text from the group chat.

Tommy shoves down that familiar ache while Eddie sounds off everyone who is currently in the process of abandoning their holiday dinners to come sit in uncomfortable waiting room chairs and twiddle their thumbs. He should leave. Cut the loose threads, take an Uber home, convince his captain he doesn't need Friday off.

He's silent long enough that Eddie feels the need to check and make sure he's still there. There's an ambulance swinging into the bay thirty feet from where Tommy stands.

"You screwed up," Eddie says, and Tommy grimaces, swallows, ignores the thrum of anxiety pooling in his gut. "Showing up for him now would go a long way towards making a reconciliation viable. If that's something you want."

Tommy doesn't know what the fuck he wants, anymore. He's never allowed himself to have it long enough for it to settle. But he knows how it'd felt to know the first person on Evan's mind in the midst of his pain medication haze was Tommy.

Tommy pulls up the first delivery service app he sees and wonders how big a tip he should give for ordering a dozen coffees an hour before closing time on a national holiday. "You know what everyone's usual coffee order is?"

Eddie adds him to a group chat that's going to drain the rest of his battery before Evan's out of surgery.

>>>Part Two

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

To Rate a Hug part 2 of ?

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, humor, antics, shenanigans, Alastor is a petty bitch, Lucifer is a dork, Reader is also a dork

part 1

Alastor’s ear twitched at the sound of someone shouting your name. He glanced over, seeing Lucifer skip up to you like a lovestruck fool.

“Hey, Luci!” You said with a grin, scooping up the fallen angel in a hug. Lucifer’s eyes briefly took on a heart shape as he hugged you back, a light blush on his cheeks.

Alastor turned his attention back to his reading. A low growl permeated from his chest without his permission which agitated him even more. Wasn’t the thing you said at that silly little activity about wanting his attention? Why now has that shifted to Lucifer?

Was it because he gave you what you wanted?

Alastor gritted his teeth, grin straining. This is a ridiculous waste of thought. If this pettiness is simply because he wouldn’t indulge in your strange desires than it wasn’t worth his time-

“Alastor, you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his musings. He quickly composed himself and gave you a bright smile.

“Of course, my dear!” He said “Whatever makes you think otherwise?”

“Um. Probably because you’re hunched over in the corner growling.” Lucifer said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Alastor’s eye twitched. Why was this idiot still here?

“Don’t you have something you need to be doing?” He said with mock interest “I imagine the King of Hell has quite a full schedule.”

Lucifer shrugged “Not really. I’m kind of just here to look pretty.”

You snickered at that, covering your mouth with one hand. Lucifer stood up taller, puffing his chest out.

“Yes, well. I do.” He said, slipping away into the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears went down, watching Alastor slip away. Did the conversation from the other day bother him that much? If that’s the case you’d need to apologize. And, well, no time like the present.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” You said, shooting Lucifer a smile. The King jumped a bit at your voice, startled out of the glaring contest he was having with where Alastor just was. He frowned at you.

“Um. Maybe you shouldn’t?”

You picked him up and held him out at arm’s length “Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but I think this is partially my fault, so I need to talk to him.”

“How is it your fault he’s an asshole?” Lucifer said, flailing his arms about.

“Well…Maybe my comment in the Truth or Dare thing made him uncomfortable…”

“That’s his problem, then.” He snorted, crossing his arms.

You sighed, gently placing Lucifer back on the ground. You put his hands on both of his shoulder and leaned down to be eye-level. “Again, I appreciate where you’re coming from. But I feel like I should talk to him about this so I’m going to.”

He bit his lip, brows furrowing. “Uh….Okay.” He ran a hand down his face “Just. Just be careful, all right?”

You grinned “Nah, I’mma run with scissors.”

“That’s like, the opposite of careful.” Lucifer pouted. He took a deep breath and gave you a small smile. “See you later.”

You said your farewell and scuttled off. Alastor would likely be in either his room or his radio tower, you figured. Which were both typically off-limits but you’d be sure to get his permission before barging in. You stopped by his tower first and knocked on the door a couple of times. When that got no response at all you scurried over to his room and knocked a couple times.

“Who’s there?”

Oh boy you could not resist. “Owl says!”

“…Owl says who?”

“That they do!” You said, cackling at your own stupid joke. There was another staticy cackle that quickly joined your own. The door opened and Alastor grinned down at you.

“Very silly joke, my dear. What can I help you with?”

You snorted, wiping a hand under your eyes to brush away the tears. “Well, you’re in a better mood.”

“Difficult not to be when someone surprises you with a horrible knock-knock joke.” He said with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

“Good point.” You said “Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Fascinatingly enough, you already are.” He said, tilting his head.

“Not what I meant-“

“I know, I know. Come on in.” He said, putting a hand between  your shoulders and pushing you inside. He kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe and stood there probably doing something but you weren’t paying attention, staring instead at Alastor’s room.

Half of it was a fancy-looking hunting lodge, while the other half a swamp. Fireflies blinked in and out over the waters and you could hear crickets and frog chattering. It smelled like damp moss and sawdust with just hints of coffee.

“Nice room.” You said dumbly. Alastor chuckled, pushing you over to the soft-looking lounge chairs and sitting you down. He sat across from you, crossing his legs in front of him and folding his hand on his lap.

“Now, what did you need to talk about?”

“Oh! Yeah.” You said and turned your attention away from the giant gator skeleton mounted on the wall. “I wanted to apologize.”

He tilted his head “…For what?”

“Um. I think I made you uncomfortable.” You rubbed the back of your neck “With the ‘who I’d want to hug’ comment? I really should’ve kept that to myself. I mean, I know you like your personal space and don’t really want people thinking of invading it-.” You stopped your rambling and took a steadying breath. “So. Yes. I wanted to apologize.”

Empty static hung in the air.  You started rocking in your seat, hunching over yourself. Alastor just stared at you, glowing red eyes a sharp contract to the gentle greens and browns behind him.

“I suppose I didn’t expect you to give up quite that easily.” He said, grin unmoving. He tilted his head to the opposite side, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly “If that’s something you wanted so badly, after all…”

You blinked. “Um.” Then realization hit you with a brick “…Did you want me to try hugging you?”

The audible record scratch gave you an answer. Alastor straightened up, clasped hands tightening into a white-knuckled grip.

What he wanted was your attention back on him, and not that fool of a king. What he wanted was you to pursue him and not Lucifer.

“Perhaps.” Alastor said.

You sighed. “Then you should’ve said so, Alastor. I’m not a mind reader. What I got from our talk after that was you thought I wanted something from you and that made you uncomfortable.”

Alastor’s ear twitched. “…So you’re diverting your attention to Lucifer because….?”

You shrugged “Dude’s touch-starved. You give him a hug and he turns into the happiest person in Hell.”

You jumped when Alastor had appeared right in front you. His grin was wide. “So it’s pity that has your attention on him?”

“Uh. No.” You muttered, pushing him away “Really it’s just… Well he gives pretty good hugs. Once I realized I can pick him up to the hug was pretty much perfect.”

“Oh I’m sure I can be much better.” Alastor said with a huff, waving you off. “You wouldn’t have to break your spine or pick someone up for a embrace of much higher quality.”

You rose your eyebrow, ears flicking. “Okay. Before I continue. Our conversation has lead be to believe you want me to try and hug you. Is this correct?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Not really, saying giving mixed signals and being cryptic are your favorite past times.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

Alastor’s grin stiffened. His ears pinned back as he suddenly found the swamp more interesting. He snapped his fingers and a piece of paper appeared over your face. You jumped, startled, then took the paper and read it.

Yes pursue the hug thing and tell NO ONE.

You snorted, biting your lip not to laugh. But then you laughed anyway.

“Oooooh buddy you have no idea what kind of game you’re playing now.” You said with a sinister grin. “I’mma hug you.”

“I’m sure your attempts will be amusing.” He said casually, checking his claws.

“I warn you, I have many sinister plans at my disposal.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Starting my first plan. A-hem. Can I hug you?”

“Mmm….Nope!”

Well that didn’t work.

[perseephoneee]

PLEASE do something super fluffy with kol mikealson

i love ur work sm!!

babe you're making my day. hope this is something akin to what you wanted.

"you're red." "shut up." "like actually vermillion." (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: kissing?? also hatred towards bed and breakfasts

a/n: i forgot how much i love writing for kol. sorry for the large writing break...hope this makes up for it?

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

You hate Kol Mikaelson. 

He’s cocky, impulsive, and constantly getting you into danger that you would never find for yourself. He also relentlessly flirts with you until you’re warm and deeply frustrated.  He’s complicated enough that you wish he wasn’t a part of your life so it could resume a sense of normalcy. 

Getting caught up in Mikaelson drama was never your plan. You just happened to make the mistake of working as a bartender at Russo’s—where they frequented. Klaus took a liking to you, and the rest is history. Being a human that’s friends with vampires is like poking a bear; not recommended nor convenient. 

This recent conflict was forgettable but proved to be a disruption to your life. One of them annoyed someone, and that someone wanted revenge, and now apparently you were in danger, and so on and so forth. You have repeatedly debated sending an invoice to the Mikaelson compound for restitution. You don’t think Klaus would find it very funny. 

You almost forgot about your life being in danger until you were forced to go on the run with the youngest brother, Kol. Kol, who insisted on driving you nuts. You kept trying to tune him out in the car, listening to the radio or focusing on the trees speeding past your window. Still, he was relentless and wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute. Plus, he was a horribly reckless driver, and you were gripping the door so tightly that you might hurt a muscle any minute. 

“I’ve lived for a very long time, but I’ve never visited Fes,” Kol said, one hand on the wheel as the other tapped on the door. You barely spared him a glance. “Would you visit Fes?”

“Not even sure what Fes is,” you answered through gritted teeth, suppressing a yelp as Kol took a turn obnoxiously fast. 

“City in Morocco considered its cultural capital.”

“You sound like a Google search,” you scoffed, sparing him half a glance. Long enough of a glance for Kol to give you a toothy grin, his canines glinting in the sunlight. 

“I like knowing things,” he states, squinting at you. “I don’t know much about you. Tell me something.”

“No.”

“Please?” he begged, every bit a kid enjoying picking on the new kid on the playground. You fixed him with a dead stare. 

“I hate your driving.” That caused him to laugh, which made him throw his head back and speed up even more. You clutched the handle and clenched your teeth till you felt your whole body would seize up. Kol eventually took pity on you and slowed down. It was enough for you to relax…slightly. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Brilliant. I’m going to die out here,” you sighed, sinking deeper into the leather seat. 

“Nonsense. Nik would dagger me if I let that happen, and I’m very tired of being daggered.”

“Not because you care about me or want me to live?” you jested, quirking a brow at him. 

“Now, why would I care about you at all?”

You pretended it didn’t sting, even though it felt impossible for you to care about Kol. Still, hearing him say it felt a bit like a slap in the face. You just turned more out the window, ignoring him. You didn’t notice the sharp look he sent you, as if he regretted what he said. 

Instead, you notice a sign advertising a Black Bear Diner. You perk up immediately, tapping the window and looking back at Kol. 

“There. Stop there.”

“That piece of garbage?”

“Yes! Stop the car!” you shouted, regretting your words when Kol slammed on the brakes. “Stop the car slowly, you asswipe.”

“You should’ve clarified that,” he smirked. You jumped out of the car, ran towards the restaurant, and experienced euphoria when the smell of waffles and fresh coffee hit your senses. Kol walked up slowly, hands in his pockets. The sun was obnoxious out here, but there were enough trees in the area to not make it feel like a desert. You could even see the mountain in the background in all its snowcapped glory. 

The inside of the diner was a welcome breeze on your damp skin. It wasn’t very crowded, and you got seated immediately as you happily flipped through your plastic menu. Kol looked slightly uncomfortable sitting in the diner, but you ignored him. You were getting pretty good at ignoring him. 

“I used to go here all the time with my family,” you said, flipping to the drinks page of your menu. “Not this exact location…but this chain. I went to it when I first moved to my hometown.”

“It’s barely gourmet.”

“Fuck gourmet, I want comfort. I want to feel like home,” you laughed, closing your menu. “Don’t you want that?”

“Home?” Kol inquired. “Not sure what that is anymore.”

Your lips turned down in a frown, but you offered nothing else. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, and you wouldn’t force him. The waiter came over to take your orders, and you happily ordered a black coffee, orange juice, and a waffle platter. After they left, you started packing your bag with the tiny jams and creamers they had out on the table. Kol just looked at you in disdain. 

“You are pathetic.”

“Rent is expensive, groceries are expensive, give me a break,” you snorted, taking a few sugar packets for good measure before you stopped looting. Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his seat. His leg bounced from anxiety, and his fingers tapped the table in a paradiddle pattern, just left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right over and over again. He looked shockingly young, like the boy before he turned, and not the man he paraded as. For a split second, you could see yourself having a crush on him in high school if he was one of your peers. You erased that thought as soon as it came. “Can I ask a question?” you leaned forward on the table, arms folded in front of you. “Why are you guys always protecting me? I’m definitely a liability.”

“I think my brother just wants to sleep with you,” Kol sighed. You snorted, biting your bottom lip to subvert your laughter. Honestly…you have managed to weasel your way into our family—like a parasite.”

“Aw, your words are so kind,” you rolled your eyes, kicking Kol under the table. He just kicked you right back, wearing a smirk. “And I would never sleep with your brother.”

“Why’s that?” Kol questioned, crossing his arms. 

“His face is weird,” you answered. Kol put his head in his hands in laughter, and you joined him a second later. You weren’t sure if that was the reason, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and you didn’t think to change it. Plus, it made Kol laugh, which kind of made you happy. The arrival of your waffles made you even happier. 

“Bloody hell, you’re going to eat all of that?” Kol looked shocked, eyes flicking between you and your waffles. He had ordered a much smaller plate than yours. Yours likely could’ve been a party platter. 

“Yes, and I will do it with pride.”

You did eat all of it, and enjoyed Kol’s expression the whole time. He looked so disturbed it made up for it. You also drank all your coffee, orange juice, and free water refills. Your plan was to eat enough to enter hibernation. You even think Kol was a little impressed at some point. Kol asked the waiter for the nearest hotel, and they pointed you to a place three miles down the road that would likely have openings. By the time you left the diner, it was starting to get cold as the sun was setting. You could hear crickets; you probably would’ve gotten fireflies if you were more south. Kol drove surprisingly slow towards the hotel, which you attributed to his worry that going fast would cause you to throw up your entire waffle extravaganza. He slowed down even more when you came up to the “hotel”—which was actually just a bed and breakfast. An extremely cutesy bed and breakfast. 

The inside of the building was somehow worse than the outside. 

The outside had small-town charm. The inside was where doilies went to die. 

Both you and Kol exchanged glances as he went up to ring the bell. You counted seven cat portraits before a portly woman came out with a cheeky smile. She wore a linen frock and a floral dress right out of the 1960s. 

“Well, good evening,” she smiled. “What can I do for you?” She had a thick Minnesotan accent, and her smile made her eyes. Overall, she radiated friendliness. 

“We’d like a room?” you inquired, leaning against the counter. 

“Oh, you betcha! Lucky for you, I got the best suite in the house available. It’s perfect for you two lovebirds,” she chirped. Your eyes widened. 

“Oh, uh, we’re not together…,” you coughed. You turned to look at Kol, who just shrugged his shoulders. Completely useless. “Do you have a double?”

“Unfortunately, all our doubles are booked for our birding convention. I might have a futon available to bring to your room?”

“Perfect,” Kol smiled, finally interjecting. “We’ll take that.”

“Splendid! Here are your keys, and I’ll have you sign in there.”

You brought your one bag with you up the stairs and to the right to a room at the end of the hall. The wallpaper was mocking you at every turn, a plethora of orchids and pinks staring at you, along with the eyes of fifty million felines. You were certain Dolores Umbridge was hiding somewhere amongst the foliage. The room was less pink but still reminiscent of something in a senior home. The bed was the nicest part: a large four-poster with mahogany bedposts. The wallpaper was sage color with pictures of ferns. The ensuite bathroom had a clawfoot tub and gold décor. A painting of a young boy eating ice cream was on the wall. You immediately took it off the wall and turned it around so you didn’t have to look at it all night. 

“It’s a little…”

“Cozy?” Kol interjected, closing the door behind you two. 

“I was going to say tight.”

“It is the lovebird suite, darling,” Kol whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. A shiver ran down your spine. 

“I’ll take the futon.”

“I doubt you could fit a futon in here,” Kol scoffed. He was right. There was really only room for the bed and bedside tables. Whoever designed this room intended to spend a lot of time in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought. You tapped your foot in thought before eventually sighing in defeat.

“Just…don’t get too handsy,” you shrugged, glaring at the vampire’s ever-present smirk. 

“Handsy? You must think me a rascal,” Kol cooed, stepping closer into your space. The room was tight, which meant you were backed against the wall. You felt like a rabbit being targeted by a fox, his mischievous grin and wandering eyes taking all of you in. Your eyes were drawn to how he licked his lips, and suddenly, your blood pressure spiked. Heat crawled up your neck, and you knew that Kol noticed. He always managed to notice. 

“Knock it off, Mikaelson,” you hissed, tilting your head up defiantly. 

“You’re actually red,” Kol chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 

“…Shut up,” you slapped his hand away, maneuvering your way from his grasp. 

“Like actually vermillion,” he laughed, and you gave him an unsavory gesture as you escaped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Back against the door, you breathed out, groaning into your hands. You pushed off the door, getting ready for bed in an effort to put this night behind you. You cleaned up, brushed your teeth, and put on pajamas. In hot weather, you usually just wear a T-shirt and shorts to bed. Your t-shirt said, ‘I got lobotomized at Freddy Fazbear’s,’ something idiotic that you couldn’t even fully be ashamed of. When you exited, Kol was lying on top of the covers on his phone, having changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked up when you exited, snorting as he read the shirt. “You have an odd sense of humor.”

“It’s too evolved for you to understand,” you rolled your eyes, getting in on the other side of the bed and leaving space between the two of you. Kol smelled sweet, like vanilla, and it was slowly suffocating you. You both sat in silence for a second before Kol disrupted it. 

“Y/N,”

“No.”

“Darling,” he purred, inching closer to you. 

“What, Kol,” you turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. 

“You like me,” he said. It was not a question, just something he exclaimed. You scoffed. 

“I do not.”

“You do. It’s why you blush vermillion when I call you things like darling,” he smiled, propping himself up on his elbow as he lay on his side to stare at you. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“So, if I kissed you…you wouldn’t care,” Kol inquired, voice soft as he sat up slightly. You felt your heart skip a beat, and Kol’s mouth turned up slightly when he heard it. You knew you just proved his point, but you refused to concede. 

“I wouldn’t care,” you whispered, holding his gaze. 

“So, when I do this,” Kol leaned up, kissing your cheek, his lips burning your skin. He kissed right under your jaw, finally on your pulse point. “…it doesn’t matter?” 

You bit your tongue to stop yourself. “It doesn’t matter,” you choke out, but all you’re doing is spurring Kol on. You’re a hare caught in his trap, and you can’t even find it in yourself to hate it. Kol sucks on your pulse point, nipping lightly and moving down your neck, one hand coming up to tilt your head more to the side for easier access. His touch was shockingly gentle as if he was giving you an out. Your will was thinning by the minute, though, and eventually, you grabbed his hand, causing him to stop. 

“Darling—” he starts, but you cut him off by kissing his lips, soft but passionate. For once, you’ve taken him off guard, and a sense of pride spurs through you as you part, kissing the corner of his mouth and looking at him through thick lashes. 

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice breathy. “For you…” You’re not sure exactly what you’re asking, but you know there’s a line you’ve crossed that you can’t return from. Kol’s thumb brushes your cheek, so gentle from the reckless, hotheaded vampire you are acquainted with. A grin crosses his face. 

“It means everything,” he smiles, kissing you again, fingers tangling in your hair. Your hands find his arms, sighing as he deepens the kiss. You’re on fire, every single part of you, and you’re sure that Kol can feel your racing heart and hot skin. You like kissing him, though, and you realize you like him a lot. 

“Kol?” you breathe. “Don’t sleep on the futon.”

“For you? I would never,” he grins, kissing you again. You make sure to put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door for later. 

…

Afterwards.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you up.

“I guess Nik won’t be able to sleep with you now.”

“Kol.”

“Because I’ll be the only one sleeping with you.”

“Go to sleep.”

There’s a shuffling of blankets as his arm wraps tighter around you, his breath hot on your neck. 

“You’re going to be stuck with me forever,” he whispers. 

You smile. “I’m okay with that.”

taglist:: @rafecameronswhore

[cutielando]

the 90s | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which you wish you'd loved him in another era

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

The faint hum of a radio fills the room, the static cutting in and out as an old tune plays softly in the background. You're seated cross-legged on the floor of Charles's apartment, a stack of vintage vinyl records scattered between the two of you.

The idea to explore the past through music had been yours—something to distract him from the pressures of the present and an excuse to spend a lazy afternoon together.

Charles is perched on the edge of the couch, his focus on a record sleeve he’s been examining for the past few minutes. His fingers trace over the faded artwork, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“I don’t get it,” he says finally, lifting the sleeve to show you. “‘The Cranberries?’ Sounds more like a fruit stand than a band.”

You laugh, your head tilting back as the sound fills the room.

“They’re iconic, Charles. You can’t judge them by the name. Here, let me show you.”

Sliding the record from its sleeve, you carefully place it on the turntable, lowering the needle until the crackling sound gives way to the opening chords of Dreams.

The room fills with the ethereal melody, and you glance at Charles to see his reaction.

He leans back, his arms stretched along the top of the couch as he listens. His eyes are closed, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Okay, I get it now,” he admits, his voice soft. “It’s… different.”

“Different good?” you tease, nudging his knee with your foot.

“Different great,” he replies, his eyes opening to meet yours. “I can picture it. Being alive back then. Everything seemed so… simple.”

You nod, your gaze drifting toward the window where the golden glow of the afternoon sun streams in.

“Sometimes I think we missed out,” you say wistfully. “Life without the internet, no constant pressure to be perfect. Just real connections, you know?”

Charles doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shifts from the couch to sit beside you on the floor, his shoulder brushing against yours. His presence is warm, grounding.

“Do you think things would’ve been easier for us?” he asks, his voice quieter now.

You turn to him, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone.

“What do you mean?”

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize.

“I mean… us. You and me. Sometimes it feels like the world is always watching, waiting for us to mess up. It’s hard not to let that get in the way.”

Your chest tightens at his words. You know exactly what he’s talking about—the scrutiny, the judgment, the way people seemed to think they had a say in your relationship just because Charles was Charles Leclerc.

It wasn’t always easy, but you’d never once doubted that he was worth it.

“I think about that too,” you admit softly. “About how things might’ve been different if we’d met in another time. No cameras, no social media. Just us, figuring things out without everyone else’s opinions.”

Charles shifts closer, his hand finding yours. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a simple gesture that sends warmth flooding through you.

“Do you think we’d still find each other?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

The question catches you off guard, but the answer comes easily.

“I think so,” you say with certainty. “It doesn’t matter where or when. It’s always going to be you.”

His lips curve into a smile, one that reaches his eyes and makes your heart ache with how much you love him.

“I wish I could’ve loved you in the 90s,” he says softly, the words barely above a whisper.

You laugh, the sound tinged with affection.

“What would that look like, huh? Us in the 90s?”

He grins, his hand still holding yours as he leans back against the couch.

“We’d be at some diner, I think. You’d have one of those polaroid cameras, taking pictures of everything. Your milkshake, the jukebox, me looking confused because I don’t know how to use it.”

You giggle at the image, nudging his shoulder.

“And you’d probably show up to pick me up in some old car, pretending you know how to fix it when it breaks down.”

“Obviously,” he agrees, his grin widening. “But you’d forgive me because I’d make you a mixtape to apologize. All your favorite songs, of course.”

You shake your head, your cheeks aching from how much you’re smiling.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he counters, his tone playful but his eyes earnest.

Your laughter fades, replaced by a warmth that spreads through your chest. You lean your head against his shoulder, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as the record continues to play.

After a moment, Charles speaks again, his voice softer this time.

“Do you ever worry that… this won’t last? That all the noise, the pressure will get too much?”

You lift your head to look at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his expression. Gently, you reach out to cup his face, your thumb brushing along his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere, Charles,” you say firmly. “No matter how loud the world gets, no matter how hard it is. We’re stronger than that.”

He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch.

“How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I mean every word,” you reply.

The song changes, a slower melody filling the room. Charles opens his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Dance with me,” he says suddenly, standing and offering you his hand.

“Charles, there’s barely any room—” you laugh, hesitating.

“Doesn’t matter,” he interrupts, wiggling his fingers until you take his hand.

He pulls you to your feet, his arms slipping around your waist as yours loop around his neck.

The two of you sway to the music, the world outside fading away. The only thing that exists is this moment—his arms around you, the warmth of his breath against your temple, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

As the song plays on, you realize that while you might never know what it’s like to love him in the 90s, this—here and now—is more than enough. It’s messy and imperfect and complicated, but it’s real.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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[eggcats]

Radiodust/Radiohuskerdust fic where Alastor has the ability to know and remember ANYTHING and EVERYTHING that's been played on any radio in hell, since he's arrived

(He also has the ability to control what people listen to, but forcing people to listen to his radio show is uncouth and Vox levels of desperation, so he doesn't. However, he DOES prevent anyone else from using his airwaves during his scheduled showtime, because it's rude otherwise.)

Angel discovers this one day when he's lamenting about some song being stuck in his head that he heard on the radio, like 2 weeks ago, and after he hums part of the melody Alastor just starts playing it for him. And Angel is like "?????? what???" While Alastor is just like "My dear, I know everything that broadcasts over my airwaves, this is child's play."

Angel is suspicious, his entire mood is

And so, a game begins where Angel will hear a song he's POSITIVE Alastor would have never listened to, and then he quizzes Alastor later to see if he can still guess the song. So far, Alastor has never not played the correct song Angel is thinking about. (Angel could always lie, but that's outside the spirit of the game, so he never does.)

Eventually it develops into Alastor immediately guessing which song Angel will ask him about, leading to confusing most other members of the hotel when as SOON as Angel walks into a room Alastor is in, he will play some music and Angel will yell "goDAMMIT SMILES GIVE ME A FUCKIN' SECOND FIRST!"

The only time Alastor starts getting the songs wrong is when Angel, seemingly out of the blue, starts only listening to love songs. He's unsure what changed, but it seems like Angel is determined to only make Alastor play love songs for him now.

Therefore, Alastor becomes convinced that Angel is trying to figure out how to confess to Husk his feelings. And despite not being good with those feelings himself, he offers to assist in his endeavor since he's known Husker for a great deal of time. (If the idea makes Alastor kind of uncomfortable and sick, it's simply because soft emotions do so, and NOTHING about Angel no longer giving him any attention. Clearly.)

(You can choose your own adventure, but I like to go with the radiohuskerdust angle personally.)

So, with the radiohuskerdust angle, it's funnier if, by this point, Angel and Husk are already dating. And so now Angel has to deal with the guy he likes trying to set him up with his boyfriend. Husk is absolutely no help, he finds it hilarious. (This is all the more exasperated by Alastor seeing Angel complain to Husk about this situation, and try to ask for advice on how to tell Alastor that the love songs are for HIM, and Alastor assuming his advice is working.)

[dewdr0pz-alt]

romantic hcs with s/o lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

summary: the title lol

warnings: swearing, light angst, mentions of alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: ik this wasn't requested, but I'm upset w/ myself due to the lack of Lucifer content on my blog!

tags: (as always, just tagging a few people i think would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be on or off of the taglist!) @o-kye @zuuriell @strangleetomz @xxtalulahlovesyouxx@ax-y10 @stars-around-scars-collective@blu3-lemonad3@myheartticks@mochamuff1n@unbeleevable@danvstheworld @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @average-vibe @back-totheoldhouse

dates w/ lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

dates with this man are THE BESTTTT

you think of somewhere, he'll take you. the aquarium? done. clothes shopping? of course. fanciest restaurant in town? you don't need to ask, he's already booked a reservation for 6:30.

he's OBSESSED with spoiling you in general, and this gets bumped up x10 on dates

you ask for wine or champagne at dinner? he's ordering the finest, most expensive bottle for his love. don't like what they have? he's bringing his own just for you.

^^ "No, no, sweetheart, I insist. My darling deserves to indulge in the finest!"

he doesn't mind you asking for more simple dates without all of the spoiling, though. he'd plead for a bit to spoil you juuuust a little though!

he's bought LOADS of fancy clothes for you to wear on dates, and sometimes he'll match with you! he wants everyone to know that the king of Hell's partner is living in luxury.

domestic life w/ lucifer ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

he's big on cuddles. cuddles when you wake up, cuddles when you eat or cook, cuddles while watching something, cuddles while getting ready for bed, cuddles while sleeping, etc.

my personal headcanon is that Lucifer knows how to bake super well (he can make the best sweet treats and pastries), but he's terrible at cooking actual meals (COOKING AND BAKING ARE TWO SEPARATE THINGS AND I WILL DIE ON THAT HILL), so you usually end up doing most of the cooking for the two of you. still, he'll help as much as he can!

going back to the baking thing, he loves baking dates with you! wrapping his arms around your waist while you try to figure out his recipe for mini apple pies with ducks on them (he'll step in to help you), teasingly throwing flour at you (which turns into a flour fight), letting you lick the batter off of the spoon, etc.

he really likes learning about and watching the films and shows you like from your era. since he's been in Hell all of his life, he doesn't know everything about the human realm, so you talking about your favorite things from the era you were alive in is a joy for him!

you living with him motivates him to do his chores around the house. talking about your days while doing the laundry, humming along to music while washing dishes, laughing with each other while cleaning. he lives for it.

how you two started dating ⋆𐙚 ₊ ° ⊹ ♡

you heard about Charlie Morningstar's plan through a friend who was talking about how odd it sounded, and you thought you'd pay a visit. you didn't think it was odd at all! if your help wasn't needed/wanted, it might be nice to stay.

turns out, Charlie loved having you help out, and so did everyone else! you pointed out how there wasn't a receptionist or front desk person and offered to take up the job, which Charlie happily let you do.

when Lucifer came to visit for the first time, it truly was love at first sight. something just...clicked.

he kept asking Charlie about who you were, what your name was, etc., until Charlie told him to just go talk to you!

the first 'hello's were a bit awkward, but you two quickly became friends! it went from him not being brave enough to even look you in the eye to him following you around the hotel, laughing while listening to the stories you told him about the hotel.

he started visiting a lot after that, which led to him asking you to be his one and only on Valentine's Day!

he was a little insecure and nervous about dating because of Lilith, and it bothered you for a while that he still wasn't able to take his ring off, but after some arguments and long talking sessions, you two worked everything out :)

[dewdropdinosaur]

Only For You

ALASTOR X READER Summary: You are beautiful there is no doubt about that. But Alastor would prefer that you kept that beauty only for him Warnings: NONE. Just sassy narrator as always(I will applaud anyone who figures out who the snarky narrator is of my stories) This was a request for the lovely @anon-of-the-void. Enjoy darling! REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN. See pinned post for rules.

In the heart of Hell, where the shadows danced to the tunes of torment, there resided a figure unlike any other – Alastor, the Radio Demon. He ruled over the airwaves of the infernal realm with his charismatic voice and sinister charm, a being of darkness wrapped in the allure of the old radio era. Having a penchant for old-fashioned charm and a twisted sense of humor, he found himself entangled in an unexpected romance with a fellow sinner….you.  There was a peculiar softness within Alastor, a hidden warmth that few dared to perceive save yourself. It was in the tender glances he shared with his beloved, the unspoken acts of service he provided and yes…even his certain shall we say—possessive nature. 

You were Alastor's almost in every way opposite. Which made it hard for many of the Hotel’s residents to understand how you even got together in the first place or even got along(That dear reader is a story for another time)

You exude confidence and have no qualms about your appearance. Proud of your demonic allure, you revel in showcasing curves and radiant skin. Yet, all of this sexual tension that is exuded was for none other than the Radio Demon himself, and for your own sense of amusement of course. Flaunting oneself for all of Hell only to be uninterested and leaving both men and women alike all hot and bothered was particularly entertaining one could speculate. 

Alastor, however, was not as open-hearted about such boldness from you. His possessive nature stirred within him, a jealousy that simmered beneath his charismatic facade. Oh how the screams of many who had dared look at his darling for a second too long made a horrific melody over his radio tower…You had long since tried to stop him for it was pretty much a futile effort at this point. Despite being the only one privy to what lied beneath your revealing clothing, the red demon still felt the swells of envy within him. He craved attention and that your beautiful soul only be turned in his direction and for him only. When you in the nude simply invited Alastor in the bathroom while showering for a chat. Poker was a common pastime while doing your makeup, to which he would often let you win, or listening to LPs while you both danced around half dressed. 

One fateful evening, as the shadows draped the corridors of Hell, Alastor and you found yourselves amidst a gathering of the Hotel residents and staff. Your laughter rang through the air, form draped in silken garments that accentuated every curve, every line of demonic beauty.  Wearing an outfit that highlighted everything, your fiery eyes sparkled with mischief. Alastor couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and possessiveness, his snarky smile masking the growing jealousy within him. He watched from afar, his ruby eyes ablaze with a mixture of desire and resentment. As the eyes of Hell lingered upon you(mainly Angel and Sir Pentious, the latter unable to help himself, poor gentleman), a surge of possessiveness consumed him. With a snarl disguised as a smirk, he approached your side, wrapping his coat around your shoulders; his voice dripping with honeyed venom.

“Here my dear, you must be cold.” Leaning down to whisper in your ear, he spoke so only she could hear “Darling, must you parade around like a succubus on display?" Alastor quipped, trying to hide his true feelings behind his charismatic persona.

You chuckled, a demonic laugh echoing through the chaotic streets. "Oh, Alastor, dear, why hide what I have? It's a crime to keep such beauty under wraps." Turning to face him, laughter dancing in your eyes. “Must you always be so possessive?” You teased with a voice so close to a melody that stirred the depths of his being.

Alastor's snarky smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of insecurity. "I just prefer to keep you all to myself, my dear. No need to share your radiance with the whole underworld."

However, not one to be controlled and quite liking to rile up your partner, you sauntered away from Alastor. With a mischievous glint, after taking off his coat and handing it back to him, you teasingly exposed more of your demonic allure. The other demons ogled in admiration(except Husk who knew better than to get between his so-called boss and his partner….also a story for another time), and Alastor's jealousy reached its peak.

Alastor's smile faltered, his grip reaching out towards your form and  tightening around your waist. "In a realm where darkness reigns supreme, one must guard what is precious," he replied, his words dripping with thinly-veiled jealousy. Little green lights flickered around the hotel as the shadows smirked and moaned, yet you stood there unafraid. 

Determined to claim your attention for himself, Alastor conjured a stylish black coat from thin air and draped it over your bare shoulders. "There, my love, let's keep a bit of your mystery, shall we?"

Laughing heartily and not bothered by the sudden cover-up, you relented. "If it makes you happy, Alastor, I'll indulge your possessiveness." Walking your fingers up Alastor’s chest to adjust and fix his bow tie, you flashed a soft and genuine smile up at your partner. 

"My dear Radio Demon," you whispered, breath warm against his ear, "there is no need for jealousy. My heart belongs to you and you alone."

With those words, Alastor's doubts faded into the abyss, replaced by the warmth of the embrace. In the depths of Hell, amidst the chaos and the shadows, love had found its way into the hearts of demons, a flickering flame in the darkness that refused to be extinguished.

“And besides my love, you know I never much cared for that kind of attention from anyone but you anyway.” 

As you and Alastor  continued your stroll through the Hotel while mingling with guests, Alastor clung to your side; content that he had, at least momentarily, subdued his jealousy. Little did he realize that love in Hell was as unpredictable as the flames that flickered throughout the underworld, and the dynamic between the snarky Radio Demon and his confident partner would continue to evolve in the fiery depths of their unconventional romance.

[luckycloverforducks]

Fuck it, HH swap AU

Their core personalities and backgrounds stay the same, it's mostly a role switch

Niffty <--> Husker

Angel Dust <--> Vaggie

Alastor <--> Charlie

(the typical for swap AUs, I know,,)

Everyone else stays the same

These r edits bc I was just figuring out their designs for the AU, I'll draw them normally another time (Husker isn't here cuz I can't find a good png of the mf)

In this AU Alastor started the hotel mostly because he randomly thought up the idea once and thought, "that's fucking hilarious, I'm doing that" + a secondary sentimental reason he'd kill me for saying (he got genuinely fully invested in the cause eventually)

He advertised it on his radio show suddenly out of the blue after 7 and a half years of radio (lol) silence. Alastor still owns Husker's and Niffty's souls but they're also obviously friends (or atleast close to it)

Also he can read tarot bc why not :3

Charlie is closer to her dad in this AU and more sheltered, adopting a more aloof, smug, and dangerous persona so sinners take her seriously, she also has a very slight condescending outlook towards sinners but she's at her core still compassionate and still views them as her people and want to protect them to a certain extent, and she still thinks the Exterminations are unnecessary and cruel, but she doesn't feel like she can do much about it since according to Lucifer's stories and discouragement, she knows heaven likely wouldn't listen much if at all, but when she heard of Alastor's little project it resparked hope in her and she decided to invest in it, becoming co-owner and funder for the hotel.

Angel Dust/Anthony never made a deal with Valentino and actually stayed in his family's crime/mafia business for the 1st half of him being in Hell, but his dad is a POS and kicked him out for being gay so he started doing s3x work, and then he met Alastor after he brutalized his harassers one day, and Angel wanted to repay the favor somehow. Alastor seems interested in him so they struck a deal (not a soul deal, just a simple deal) which has Angel/Anthony is under Alastors protection in exchange for Angel/Anthony's loyalty and assistance when needed (which is a rare case so Angel still feels like he owes Alastor). They grow friendly with time, and Alastor offers to have him be patient zero for his redemption project, and he accepted.

Vaggie/Vi is still a fallen exterminstor and still met Charlie the same way she did in the show, but after that they went their separate ways and Vi finds herself making a deal with Velvette. Instead of being a pornstar like Angel in the show, she is an influencer and a rockstar/singer, she does enjoy making music and playing the guitar but Velvette tends to overwork her and make her do things she doesn't really like for views/popularity. Velvette is the nicest to Vi/Vaggie compared to with her other employees (which isn't a very highly set bar tbh) but she also frequently break her boundaries.

Vi met Charlie again during one of her concerts and they got close and started dating. (Also one sided Velvette x Vaggie is sort of slightly maybe canon in this AU bc toxic Yuri is fun (and it's only fully one sided after Charlie and Vaggie/Vi started dating))

She helps manage the hotel when needed, but is honestly only there cause Charlie is.

Not much about Niffty changes tbh (she's perfect the way she is, utterly unhinged 😍) she's just a bit more mellowed out and less hyper (she's still hyper just not all the time like in the show) and she's also a bartender and has surprisingly good taste for alcohol, and also frequently makes borderline poisonous drinks while experimenting, but when she gets it right it's really good. Doesn't stop the others of being terrified of her drinks though

Husker is a more smiley and charming in this AU, using a laid back attitude to put people at ease and more willing to open up to him if they need to (he used to use the information people share as blackmail when he needs to back when he was an Overlord, although he never actually needs to spread anything, just threats), and he's still very observant but he's also slightly more unhinged- He's a sort of butler/cleaner for the hotel

He still gets grumpy time to time, but mostly when he's drunk, which isn't as often anymore ever since Niffty was put in charge of the bar (understandably so)

He has a bit of an anger issue and also gets annoyed easily, and sometimes makes unhinged threats as a sort of joke (they stop being much of a joke once you genuinely piss him off)

He likes things clean and tidy because it helps him pretend to be put together

He and Alastor are a bit friendlier compared to in the show, hes still one of the few people that knows more about Alastor, though hes still bummed about the whole being owned by Alastor thing (Husker can also read tarot to a lesser extent bc Al taught him for funzies and Husker thought it's interesting)

His gambling addiction is also ever so slightly worse

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 8: Miscommunication

"I just don't know how to tell him, Robs."

Eddie didn't mean to eavesdrop, but he'd forgotten to grab a fresh towel before going to have a shower, he hadn't even known Steve was on the phone. But Steve had sounded worried talking and Eddie couldn't help himself, he always wanted to make sure his boyfriend was happy.

He couldn't hear what Robin said on the other line, but Steve's response was, "I don't want us to end up like my parents." Why would they end up like his parents? They were happy, weren't they?

Eddie had finished his tattoo apprenticeship, Steve was finishing college soon he was excited to start working in a school full-time, Eddie was seeing a bright future for them.

"I'm scared."

Scared? What was he scared of, of Eddie, their relationship?

Eddie couldn't listen to any more, moving quickly back to the bathroom, letting the water wash away his worries.

He tried not to think about it in the weeks that followed. Instead he focussed on work, on holding Steve close at night, on the sound of his voice, the shape of his smile. He wanted to commit it all to memory while he still could. Steve kept leaving in the afternoon, saying he was meeting up with Robin, which wasn't unusual but after that phone call Eddie couldn't help but worry.

It was a bad day at work that made it all come to a head. He'd had a girlfriend of a client come in and berate him for letting her boyfriend get a tattoo, his midday appointment went long and so he had to skip lunch and his car didn't start so his boss had to drop him home.

Steve is making dinner when he comes through the door, the radio is playing softly, the lights are turned low. Steve looks up and smiles at him and Eddie just breaks.

Steve's face quickly changes to one of concern as Eddie begins sobbing in their living room, quickly turning off the stove and taking Eddie's hands in his own.

"Eds, baby, what's wrong are you ok?"

Steve's voice is so soft, Eddie can't bear it. "I don't want to lose you," he cries into Steve's shoulder.

"Lose me? Eds, why would you lose me, I love you, just like you love me right?" Eddie's grip on Steve's fingers tighten, "I love you so much."

Steve pulls him closer, "Then why would you lose me? Did someone say something to you today?"

Eddie shakes his head, "I heard you on the phone to Robin, you said you had something to tell me, that you didn't want us to be like your parents, that you were scared."

Steve's eyes soften, "Eddie, love, you missed the most important part of that phone call." Eddie looked at him confused but Steve took a step back before bending down on one knee. That's when Eddie took in the rest of the room, the set table, the low lights really being candles, the fact that it was the 8th, their anniversary.

"Eds, I'm not just scared, I'm terrified, but you make me feel brave just because I know you love me. I don't want us to end up like my parents but every day you show me that we never will." Eddie is still crying, but for a completely different reason now.

"I do have something to tell you, I want to tell you that you're my person, my soulmate, my love and my future and most importantly I have something I want to ask you." Steve let go of one of Eddie's hands, reaching into his pocket pulling out a small box.

"I know we can't do it the legal way, but that has never really been your style anyway, so, Eddie Munson, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

Eddie hopes the kiss he pulls Steve into is enough of an answer but like any misunderstanding going forward, he thinks they can figure it out, together.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

I remember reading someone say that they hope Seviathan ISN’T a jerk and if/when he comes to the hotel, he actually wants to help Charlie in her mission of redemption…then ends up with a crush on Vaggie, lol.

Mate, how funny would that be? 😂😂😂 You’re here to genuinely help your ex, then end up falling for her girlfriend. While it isn’t socially acceptable or appropriate, I think it’s cute. I guess Vags has that sort of affect on people.

oh man, if we go the absolute CHAD route for Sevi WHILE imagining him getting a crush on Vaggie... like, dude meets scary lady, doesn't notice how scary his EX gets over him staring at HER girlfriend, and maybe it's time for Sev to have some personal epiphanies?

Seviathan: "Knock knock? Yo Charles-a-lot! This really your hotel?"

Angel Dust: "Oh heyyy, look what the undead boy band dragged in..."

Husk: (snorts)

Charlie: "Sev? SEV! Holy shit what are you doing here!?"

Angel Dust: "Wait a sec, Sev? As in-"

Husk: "Oh shit."

Angel Dust: "Ex boyfriend on the hotel premises oh this is gonna get INTERESTIN'. Bet on how quick he gets maimed?"

Husk: "Fuck no. She'd kill us too."

Angel Dust: "Sigh... S'pose so. Spoil sport spear bitch..."

Seviathan: "I heard about your thing! Figured you could use a hand with the whole... uh... Sinner pet project obsession."

Charlie: "But Isn't there a game on right now-"

Seviathan: "Nah, everything's blocked out by replays of your little slap fight with heaven. Which I totally could've helped with too, if you'd given me a heads up first."

Charlie: "I did call? I said goodbye in case I died and-"

Seviathan: "Didn't hear it. You know I don't check voice mail. Everyone's always blowing up my inbox trying to to hit me up."

Angel Dust: "Oh my fucking gay."

Husk: "Would you hit that?"

Angel Dust: "If I did ya'd have to shoot me afterwards."

Seviathan: "Anyway, that's how I found out you'd actually went ahead and tried this thing out for real! And made a real mess of it. You totally cut off the final quarter of the best game of the year with all that live coverage."

Charlie: "Sorry, sorry- we REALLY didn't have say in the timing on that-"

Husk: "No shit."

Seviathan: "Eh. The team's played like shit anyway ever since I left."

Charlie: "Didn't you get kicked off for hogging the ball-"

Angel Dust: "Shocker."

Husk: "Never would have fucking guessed."

Seviathan: "Not dropping the ball isn't the same as hogging it and I never drop the ball on anything. You sure have though!"

Charlie: "I have? Where? Or er with what??"

Seviathan: "This hotel lobby for a start. Where's the billiards table!"

Charlie: "Ohhh. We don't have one."

Seviathan: "Why the hell not???"

Charlie: "No one's asked?"

Seviathan: "Well what the fuck does everyone here DO all day long? You've got actual people staying here, right? You're not still playing pretend hostess to stuffed animals and stuff?"

Angel Dust: "I kinda hope Vaggisaurus kills him."

Husk: "Don't get your hopes up. You know she's whipped and Charlie's a fucking sweetheart."

Angel Dust: "A bestie can dream..."

Charlie: "No I am NOT playing pretend hostess, thanks for mentioning it by the way, in public, in front of my friends- and yes we DO have guests at the hotel! Some of them here of their own free will even!"

Husk: "Not it."

Angel Dust: "Bullshit."

Charlie: "They have lots of fun activity time too! Even when we're not doing talk circles!"

Seviathan: "Uh huh."

Charlie: "Yes! Mostly we all like watching TV- well almost all of us- or listening to the radio to pass the time, or hanging out chatting, or reading-"

Seviathan: "So they're pussies."

Husk: "Hey."

Angel Dust: "Down, pussycat~"

Husk: (HISS)

Charlie: "They are NOT-"

Angel Dust: "Speakin' of pussy...."

Seviathan: "Yeah we're talking about you, what about it? Anyway."

Seviathan: (puts hand on charlie's arm)

Angel Dust: "Here it comes-"

Seviathan: "I've been thinking about us lately, and-" (spear thuds next to his head) "-SHIT!!! HOLY SHIT?!?!"

Husk: "Damn. She missed."

Angel Dust: "Just an openin' shot, Mr. Whiskers." (rubs all four hands together) "Oh this is gonna be goooood~"

Charlie: "Vaggie!" (BEAMING) "I thought we talked about this?"

Vaggie: (swoops down) "He's not a gust yet, babe, so I can greet him spear first if I want to."

Charlie: "Sev's my ex boyfriend though!"

Vaggie: "I know."

Vaggie: (yanks spear out of wall and holds it under his throat) "What the fuck are you doing here."

Seviathan: "I, uhh- is, is that angelic steel..?"

Charlie: (laughing) "Vaggieeee. You're scaring him~"

Angel Dust: "An' turnin' her on."

Husk: (elbows him)

Vaggie: "We said hotel security would be my thing until the threat of random asshole angel attacks went down, remember hun? This is my day job."

Charlie: "I never said I was complaining! Juuuust commentating!"

Vaggie: "Alright then."

Vaggie: (backs Seviathan against wall with her spear)

Vaggie: "Talk. Now."

Seviathan: (swallows hard) "I'm swinging by to help Charlie with the hotel thing-"

Vaggie: "Why."

Seviathan: "She used to be my girl, a guy's got a responsibility-"

Vaggie: "Did she ask you to."

Seviathan: "No? She, she doesn't have to-"

Vaggie: "Did you ask her if you could help."

Seviathan: "It's no trouble, I don't mind a little extra work-"

Vaggie: "Are you here to ask for a room in our hotel."

Seviathan: "In this place? Fuck no, you should see the digs I have, I've got a-"

Vaggie: "So you're trespassing."

Angel Dust: "Ohhh!"

Seviathan: "I'm wha-"

Husk: "Fucking screwed."

Vaggie: "You came here just to swan all over her hard work and stroke your own ego, is what I'm hearing."

Seviathan: "Hey girl, I'm here to he-ULP-!"

Vaggie: "Shut up." (over shoulder) "Charlie?"

Charlie: "Mm....wellllll... Since he's already here, as long he really does help, I'm fine with it. He's harmless. He'd just... um..."

Husk: "A fuckhead."

Angel Dust: "Don't take my fav word in vain, baby."

Charlie: "He's my ex for a reason."

Husk: "Fuck you."

Angel Dust: "Much better."

Vaggie: "He's your ex for an annoying reason, or for being an actual jerk who's earned getting kicked out on his ass for once in his life kinda reason, sweetie?"

Nifty: (popping up from floorboards) "Is he a BAAAAD BOYYYY~?"

Seviathan: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAt-"

Vaggie: "What part of shut up there's a spear at your throat don't you get."

Seviathan: (jaw clicks shut)

Charlie: "Nope! He's not a boy boy! Just annoying! Mostly."

Nifty: "DAMN IT."

Angel Dust: "How's the huntin' goin' today, Nif?"

Nifty: (pouts) "The last baby bug got away... I hadn't even finished ripping it's little legs off while the mother bug watched it squirm..." (slinks back under floor)

Everyone else: "....."

Charlie: "... so! (claps hands)

Charlie: "Sev, if you really wanna help out that's fine, we're still finishing up the last touches on the new hotel if you feel like doing a little paint work and furniture moving!"

Seviathan: "....."

Charlie: "Sev?"

Seviathan: "..."

Angel Dust: "Think we broke him."

Husk: "I think it's the fucking spear pressed up against his fucking windpipe."

Charlie: "Oh! Whoops. Vaggie, please?"

Vaggie: ".... fiiiine."

Vaggie: (steps back) (wipes spear on nearby curtains) "Answer her."

Seviathan: (staring) "What's your name?"

Vaggie: "Hotel manager. Answer her."

Seviathan: "Charlie-" (still staring at vaggie) "-I would LOVE to help set up your pet sinner terrarium thing!"

Vaggie: "Our WHAT."

Husk & Angel Dust: "Hey!"

Charlie: "It's a hotel, Sev."

Seviathan: "Uh huh yeah sure, that thing!"

Vaggie: (lifts spear)

Charlie: (gently pushes gf spear back down) "Oh I'm going to regret this... ok. Let's, get you some gloves and stuff."

Seviathan: "Alright!" (holds hand up to vaggie) "Give me some skin!"

Vaggie: "...." (lifts spear again)

Charlie: "Excuse us Sev just ONE moment!"

Charlie: (pulls gf safe distance away)

Charlie: "Vaggie..? You okay?"

Vaggie: "Fine."

Charlie: "You're eye's, um. Twitching." (tenderly brushes fringe away from gf's eye) "Are you okay with this? He doesn't have to stay."

Vaggie: "No. It's fine." (sighs) "I want to be okay with it."

Charlie: "It's okay if you're not!"

Vaggie: "I will be, sweetie. Just give me a minute." (leans up for kiss) "But. I need to go do a Niffty and stab something. Really hard. Right now. And if I stay here one minute more, it's gonna be him."

Charlie: "Okay." (giggles) "Have fun stabbing things that aren't my ex?"

Vaggie: "I'll try to."

Seviathan: "Oh hey I'm awesome at stabbing! And the thrusting!"

Angel Dust: "PLEASE stick around, toots."

Husk: (mumbling) "Please fucking stick him."

Seviathan: "Long hard things are totally my thing, I could give you a few pointers on handling them no problem!"

Vaggie: "No."

Seviathan: "Oh come on, how about a hands on demonstration-"

Vaggie: (at charlie) "Keep him away from the kitchen knifes. He looks like he'd stab himself showing off and make a mess."

Charlie: "Heheh~ I'll try to."

Vaggie: "Good luck with that babe." (smooches her) (flies off to go stab)

Seviathan: "...."

Seviathan: "She single?"

Charlie: "She- NO? She is not??"

Angel Dust: (whisper hissing) "Is he blind? Didn't they just kiss???"

Seviathan: "We'll she's gonna be single soon, but not for long."

Husk: "He's dead."

Demon Charlie: "Her girlfriend is ME, Seviathan."

Seviathan: "Girlfriend? So she's-"

Demon Charlie: "VERY VERY GAY and TAKEN, YES."

Seviathan: "Wait, with you? Seriously??"

Demon Charlie: "Yes. Me. For s e v e r a l. Happy. Years."

Husk: (lifts bottle) "Cheers motherfuckers."

Seviathan: "Ohhh, so all that making out with you she did, it wasn't just her flirting with m-"

Angel Dust: "Holy. Fuck."

Demon Charlie: "SHE WASN't FLIRTING WITH YOU! SHE LOVES ME- SHE WANTS TO KILL YOU!!!"

Seviathan: "I'd let her, to be honest. She's hot."

Husk: "Let her?"

Angel Dust: "Dude."

Husk: "The fuck does he mean, let her? He wouldn't have a fucking choice-"

Demon Charlie: "On second thought maybe you SHOULD'NT help out with the hotel, actually!"

Demon Charlie: (grabbing him by scruff of the neck and marching towards door) "It was VERY nice of you to drop by, PLEASE go have a good rest of your life, you'll probably have a LONGER one if you live it away from here!"

Seviathan: "Aww Charlie, getting nervous over having competition?"

Husk: (spits out drink)

Demon Charlie: "You are SOOOOOO not competition! You might end up being another hotel fatality though!"

Angel Dust: "Bet on which of 'em kills him first?"

Husk: "Shut up I'm trying to listen."

Seviathan: "I just think a woman like that should have her pick from the best hell can offer!"

Demon Charlie: "I'm the princess of hell???"

Seviathan: "Sure, but you hardly ever act like it."

Demon Charlie: "I...! She, she doesn't mind me being like me. She-"

Seviathan: "What, a commanding woman like that is fine with a spineless partner? No offence. But come on."

Angel Dust: "Alright, now I'm gonna kill him."

Husk: "Let her do it herself."

Angel Dust: "Hmph!"

Seviathan: "She's never asked you to try being more of an actual princess sometimes?"

Demon Charlie: "No, she... Not like, not like that..."

Seviathan: "Not like that, huh?"

Demon Charlie: "No." (yanks open door) "And our relationship has NOTHING to do with you."

Seviathan: (grabbing doorframe) "But you know it could."

Demon Charlie: "NO IT WON'T. COULDN'T! WILL NOT, EVER!!!!"

Seviathan: "So why're you throwing me out of your silly hotel thing, then?"

Demon Charlie: "....."

Seviathan: "Scaaaared...?"

Demon Charlie: (drops him) (shuts door) "I trust her."

Seviathan: "Said like no one who ever got dumped so their girl could be with me."

Demon Charlie: "I trust her not to ACTUALLY kill you, I mean."

Seviathan: "Fuck I hope she tries... Maybe I'll let her pin me again."

Husk: (SNORTS) "'Let her'..."

Angel Dust: "He's gonna earn a fucking Darwin award at this rate."

Seviathan: (dusting ash off himself) "Kinda impressed you got all demon-ed so fast for this though. That's new!"

Charlie: "I've told you, it only happens when I'm PISSED. OFF."

Angel Dust: "YEAH DOLLFACE GET HIS ASS!"

Seviathan: "I know but like, it used to take a lot to get you all riled up. I hardly ever got to see you like this in bed even. Maybe if it'd been easier we'd still be a thing?"

Charlie: "You know I realllly really doubt it since I dumped YOU."

Husk: "HA!"

Angel Dust: "WOOOOO! BURRRRRN!"

Charlie: "And I dumped you partly BECAUSE you kept trying to 'rile me up' so you could try having sexy scary demon sex with me!"

Angel Dust: "OHHHHH!!!!"

Charlie: "Not that you ever even DID!"

Husk: "Fuck yes."

Charlie: "Because I always had waaaaay more fun sleeping on the COUCH!"

Husk & Angel Dust: (high five)

Seviathan: "...."

Seviathan: "So that's a no to having a threesome with us once I'm dating your soon to be ex girlfriend, huh?"

Demon Charlie: "SEV-"

Charlie: (deep breath)

Charlie: "... why do you even think you like her, Seviathan? You don't know her. She doesn't like you. You don't even know her name."

Seviathan: "She's hot."

Charlie: "Can We Try To Be More Specific, Please."

Seviathan: "I don't know? It was cute how she tried bullying me against a wall like that. All snapping orders like she was some kinda drill sergeant, or like a hot coach lady, treating me like some kinda bug crawling by her shoe- Who doesn't think that's hot?"

Charlie: "...."

Charlie: "Ohhhh."

Angel Dust: "Oh FUCK!"

Husk: (laughing) "The motherfucking alpha man-"

Angel Dust: "He's a fucking sub!!!!"

Seviathan: "What, like the sandwich? Shit. Are my pants fitting too tight again-"

Charlie: "Angel Dust."

Angel Dust: "Yesssss oh fearless leader...?

Charlie: (covers eyes) (turns) (escapes)

Charlie: "He's all yours."

Seviathan: "Whoa wait, where're you going-"

Charlie: "I'm gonna go surprise MY longtime girlfriend with kisses!"

Seviathan: "Hold on don't leave me with these two! Charlie!?"

Charlie: (already gone)

Seviathan: "For fuck's sake then I'm outta here too! I didn't come here to hang out with lame guys-"

Angel Dust: "Oh my little baby boy."

Angel Dust: (grins) (leans in) ".....how's the idea of a woman standin' over you with a whip make ya feel?"

Seviathan: "Good?"

Angel Dust: "Mm-hmm. An' if ya was wearing a collar?"

Seviathan: "..." (takes off hat) (holds it over crotch)

Husk: "Great. Another horrible memory to drown away with booze." (swigs)

Angel Dust: (draping arm around seviathan) "C'mon, let's find ya a dom who WON'T for real rail you with her spear~"

Seviathan: "Oh whoa."

Husk: "Oh fucking save me booze..." (down in one)

Niffty: (sobbing under floorboards)

Husk: "What the fuck? What's wrong with you?"

Niffty: "Th-the bad boys..." (sniffling) "... why are so many of them turning out LAME? Even the king of HELL asked me if I was OKAY when he stepped out his door in his ducky slippers and found me lying in front of it like a rug! WHAT IS WRONG WITH BAD MEN THESE DAYS!?"

Husk: "...."

Husk: "Here."

Husk: (hands down drink)

Niffty: (hands popping out to grabby grabby) "IT'S SO SAAAAAD HUSK!" (snatches) (gulps) (gulps) (faint thump and snoring)

Husk: "I can't fucking believe I risked my fucking life for this place."

Husk: (smiles anyway)

[superblysubpar]

<- part three | part five -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: Steve drives you to work all week.

the song: Smoke by Caroline Polachek

also for your listening pleasure: Do You Believe In Love by Huey Lewis & The News, We Are the Champions by Queen, and In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel

6,475 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / wearing steve’s clothing, but size isn’t mentioned / for the purposes of this fic, you drink coffee and you take it sweet / alcohol mentions/consumption - you are tipsy in this / brief descriptions of car accidents/injury with some blood/ slight descriptions of panic/anxiety happening to Steve | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - Tuesday

You slam the alarm button down when it goes off on Tuesday morning, sitting on your bed, fully dressed, one hour too early. 

Your knee bounces up and down, your teeth rip at the skin next to your thumb, and you stare at the clock, counting down, literally, to when your ride will be here. 

Steve had offered, when he dropped you off last night, to pick you up all week. It was supposed to rain off and on till Friday, you shouldn’t have to bike so far, it was the least he could do all babbled out of him as you sat in his passenger seat still wearing his clothes. 

What was the surprise, to both of you, is that you’d said yes to his offer. 

He’d blinked at you, you blinked at him and he nodded, fingers fiddling with the radio dial as he murmured, “Cool, cool.”

You’d sat in his passenger seat in silence, both staring out the windshield at your apartment complex until Steve cleared his throat and looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“Oh!” You quickly snapped off the seatbelt and pushed the door open, pausing to look down at the clothes you had on and the wet ones in your hands. “Um, I’ll, I can change quick and-“

“No!” 

He snapped his jaw closed and rubbed at his temple, blowing out a breath before he gestured, “I meant, like, don’t go to the trouble. It’s late, and, I’ll see you, and it’s fine, I don’t even wear those pants to sleep in because they’re too hot and-“

“Steve?” You interrupted, lips twitching against a smile. 

“Yeah?” He replied limply.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiled. You smiled. Something was definitely wrong with your stomach and so, sure you were about to be sick in his car, you mumbled something about seeing him tomorrow and quickly closed the door, then climbed the stairs up to your front door. 

Steve waited to back out of his parking spot until you were safely inside where he couldn’t see you fall backwards against the door with an exhale and you couldn’t see him rubbing his face at the exit of the complex mumbling the word ‘idiot’. 

Which is what you felt like, when you woke up with the sunrise, still wearing Steve Harrington’s clothes. 

And you were still feeling like it after you showered, scrubbing at your skin till it stung because you felt like you needed to wash off any evidence of the smell that clung to your body like it was supposed to. But somehow that didn’t stop you from spending longer on picking out an outfit, or taking more time to get ready. Reasoning with yourself that it was because you didn’t have to bike, that you woke up early, it’s nice to dress up and take care of yourself every once in awhile, it feels good to be put together for no one but yourself. 

This is what you’re currently telling your reflection, avoiding eye contact with the sweatshirt as you stomp out of the room towards your kitchen. 

But as you move down your hallway, something, or rather someone, outside the window catches your eye and you grab your bag and leave your apartment to figure out what he’s doing. 

Steve’s crouched down next to your bike, large fingers working on something with the chain with a furrow between his eyebrows. He doesn’t hear you approaching, which is probably why he shoots up at the sound of your voice, the back of his head smacking right into the metal bike rack.

“Harring-“ his name cut off with a sharp empathetic wince as his eyes shut tight and his jaw pulses after he curses under his breath.

“Sorry,” you rub at your elbow, scuffing a converse on the ground as you squint at him, “Believe it or not, that wasn’t on purpose.”

Steve exhales what you think is supposed to be a laugh, as he blinks at the ground, “Yeah, I…” 

His words get lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth somehow because all he can think now is:

Pretty.

The word makes his tongue feel too big for his mouth, like he needs to say it or it’ll just keep sitting there and he’ll suffocate as it swells.  It’s not like he’s not thought that word around you before, he has. But the urge to say it hasn’t ever quite made him feel like this, like he’s gonna die.

“You…?” Your head tilts, eyes squinting to inspect him more, heartbeat thrumming faster as Steve stares at you intensely.

“Don’t,” Steve finishes, standing up slowly, your red helmet swinging in his fingers. 

“You don’t?” The two of you blink at each other.

“Believe you,” Steve offers.

“Oh, right.” 

You hate that you feel so warm under his stare, hate that you’re wondering if he likes your outfit. You hate-

“I, um,” Steve gestures to the bike, “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to say yes to me driving you. Since you, you know, hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”

The words slip off of your tongue so easily, you bite down on it in fear that more lies will fall out. 

The words to Steve are, however, exactly what he needed to hear to remember who the hell he is. 

Steve grins, two freckles lifting as he asks, softly, fondly, “Yeah?”

“I,” you swallow, wondering if it’s possible that Steve Harrington possesses the power to erase ‘how to speak’ from your list of skills and abilities simply because he’s got nice eyes and smells good.

His grin settles, a smug smirk keeping his lips in a flat line before he whispers, “What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?”

Your eyes narrow, arms crossing over your Journey t-shirt as you snap, “I don’t hate you. I despise you.”

Steve’s gaze darts over your face, before golden iris’ are settling on yours. He takes a step closer, dangerously closing the gap between your bodies as he whispers, “Yeah? Well I detest you.”

His chest rises and falls, bumping your crossed arms, the toe of his Nike’s touching the tops of your converse. So close you can count freckles on his nose and see green in his eyes.

“Wow,” your words hushed, but dripping in sarcasm, “Another big brain word and it hasn’t even been a week. Would you like a prize?”

Steve’s eyes flash, his lips twist up as he leans in even closer, “Yeah,” murmured as the tip of his nose almost touches yours, mint toothpaste fanning over your lips, “I would.”

Your breath leaves your lungs, held somewhere so it can’t escape as his nose brushes the bridge of yours before it’s suddenly gone. 

“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” spoken over his shoulder with a grin as he heads towards his car. 

Steve faces his car again, biting the inside of his lip out of your sight as you close your eyes out of his. 

Were you just going to let him kiss you?

Your legs feel wobbly as you make your way across the pavement towards the maroon car, and even more so when, nestled inside and buckled, Steve’s hand rests on the back of your seat as he says, “You look really pretty today, by the way.”

His forearm flexes in the corner of your eye as he looks over his shoulder to back out of the spot, spinning his steering wheel with the other hand effortlessly. The movement and skill makes your legs press together under your skirt, and you bite the inside of your cheek, adamant on ignoring what your body wants to tell you.

Steve fiddles with the radio dial as he comes to a stop sign.

“You know,” you bite, mad at yourself for falling for this, mad at him for starting it, just mad, “I haven’t forgotten that you have five days left to get me, of all people, to sleep with you. And as much as it pains me to say this, we’ve been in each others lives for quite awhile now, and I know you, Harrington. This isn’t working, it’s not going to work, and the fact that you think-“

He says your name roughly, tight, like the word burns his throat to say it. He leans over the console, ducking his head to catch your gaze causing a strand of hair to fall over his forehead. 

“Have you ever thought, for one second, that maybe, just maybe, I’m not as much of an asshole as you think, but because I know you hate me, I’ve never even tried to give you a compliment because that’s just not what we do? Tell me, honestly, if I’d have told you that you looked pretty, before today, before this bet, you wouldn’t have bit my head off then too? Or, god forbid, would have believed me?”

His breath is sharp, his gaze pierces into you, making something in your chest spark and sizzle, it’s not unlike the swell of pride you get when you win, and it’s better. 

It’s addicting. 

A horn honks and Steve blinks, facing the windshield and moving the car forward again. 

“I don’t hate you,” the words are a whisper, not as easily said as earlier.

“Right,” Steve clears his throat. He glances over at you with a small smile, then back at the road as he sighs, “Just despise.”

You hum a feeble agreement, and let Huey Lewis & The News fill the silence, asking if you believe in love. 

Steve’s fingers tap along to the song, his lips part, every other word softly exhaled as he sings under his breath. Which makes it hard to convince yourself that his words were just words, they meant nothing, and yours weren’t true either.

Steve Harrington doesn’t think you’re pretty and you hate each other. 

Despise. 

Whatever.

Your hands rest in your lap, thumb catching on a loose thread in your skirt that you are indebted to now. 

Not because Steve thinks you look pretty in it. 

But, because, if you instead search for where the loose thread begins, that brain space cannot be occupied by trying to figure out other times Steve wanted to call you pretty, or how you would have reacted, or how there’s two coffees in his cupholders next to your elbow. Focusing perhaps on, how the snag happened in your skirt could even make it so you don’t think about how, somehow, the leather of the seats and the coffee in such a tight space only make his normal scent of something minty and woodsy better and-

“Before you ask, no it’s not poisoned, and no, this isn’t me trying to woo you or whatever.” He gestures to the coffee, as if he’s reading your mind, “Could you hand me mine? Think it’s the front one.”

You’re shocked to learn that one of them is for you, and even more so when he grabs the cup from you and sips, grimaces, then coughs. 

“Ugh,” he licks his lips and holds it over to you, “That one was yours.”

You hand him the other cup, staring down at the one he handed back to you.

He bought you coffee and seemingly knows how you take it. 

As he pulls into the Family Video lot, expertly avoiding the kids skating and running around in front of Palace Arcade already, he sighs.

“You know,” he puts the car in park and looks at you, “I don’t have cooties.”

Haven’t even thought of the fact that if you took a sip, your lips would be where his had been, your body warms at the ‘kiss through contact’ possibility like a thirteen year old girl with a crush, heartbeat erratic still from the gesture of getting you the coffee.

“Actually, I was wondering if you did in fact poison this, because you despise me.”

“Detest,” Steve offers quietly with a smile.

“Detest,” you agree.

“I took a sip of it though. How would it be poisoned?”

“Maybe you’re like Westley and built up some sort of tolerance to this particular poison.”

Steve stares at you, blinking in silence until finally he asks, “What?”

“The Princess Bride?” You unsnap your seatbelt as he starts to get out of the car, talking over the roof of it. “Harrington, you have to have seen The Princess Bride?”

Steve swings his keys on his finger as he follows you to the front door, squinting. Both of you loving to have something to discuss that feels like easily navigated territory again. 

“Is that the one with Daisy?”

“Buttercup,” you correct immediately, stopping on the sidewalk to face him, “That’s our first movie today. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Fine,” Steve shrugs, but then nods to the cup in your hand, “If you take a sip and say thank you really sweetly.”

You scoff, “I don’t have to do shit, I’m the manager. And that was an if.”

Steve nods, holding his hand out. “Okay, then give me the coffee.”

“But...” you hesitate, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafting up to your nose. 

He definitely knows your order.

“Thought you said no ifs, ands, or buts?” Steve grins.

Your lips scowl before you mutter, “Don’t be cute.”

“You think I’m cute?” He smiles wider than he has all morning, showing off perfect, dazzling teeth. 

You roll your eyes and lift the cup to your lips. His eyes remain on yours, drinking you in just as much as you drink the coffee, gazes unwavering upon each other. 

It’s hard to swallow the perfectly made to your specifications coffee when he whispers, “That’a girl. See, was that so hard? Now, what do we say?”

“Thank you,” you grit, but Steve’s hand stops yours from unlocking the door.

“That wasn’t very sweet…” he tsks, sing song lilt to his voice.

With his hand over yours on the handle, you sigh, focusing on getting to watch a favorite movie instead of the way it engulfs yours. Batting your eyelashes, you force out a cheery, “Thank you, Harrington.”

Steve smirks, shakes his head no. He leans in, just like he had at your apartment. 

Just like when you almost let him kiss you. 

“First name, honey.”

That sparking, sizzling, simmering feeling is happening in your chest again.

Steve’s breath in is yours out as you murmur, “Thank you, Ste-“

“Jesus Christ! Thank fuck you’re alive! I’ve been…”

Eddie’s shout drifts off as he jumps out of his van, his eyes darting between you and Steve who’s starting to stand up straighter, hand dropping from the top of yours.

You clear your throat as Eddie grins at you, then Steve, then you again as he steps closer.

Eddie’s gaze looks over your outfit and your cheeks warm as he hums, raising his eyebrows over bright brown eyes that see right through you. 

“Well, don’t you look nice today.”

  Hawkins, Indiana - Wednesday

  He was already on thin ice, and now, you were planning to fully cut a hole in said ice and let him meet his demise in the cold, dark water beneath it.

  Eddie doesn’t seem to care, as he winces with fake sympathy, and tosses an M&M in his mouth as you glare at him with your arms folded over your chest. 

  “What do you mean, you can’t take me anymore?” 

  He shrugs, but takes a step away from you, seemingly out of harms way.

  Physical harms way at least.

“I have to go back into the shop, Wayne needs me. I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you?” He puts on a nice, big, Munson level show - hands folded in prayer, big pouty lips, and blinking sad doe eyes. 

  You stand in front of the counter, rubbing your temple from the fluorescent that’s been blinking all morning. 

  “I didn’t eat lunch, I didn’t pack a lunch, because you promised the diner, you made a big deal about tradition,” you start towards him, hangry and looking for vengeance. 

  Eddie quickly sidesteps around the corner, standing directly across from you as you both go in a circle around the main counter where Robin sits, typing at the computer. 

  “Beer, on me,” he pleads, quickening his pace, “Tomorrow. A whole pitcher, just for you. I won’t even make fun of you when you get a gutter ball every turn!”

  “I don’t want beer, Munson! I want a strawberry shake and a damn cheeseburger!”

  “I can take you.”

  Steve’s quiet offer makes you freeze, Eddie grins and backs out quickly towards the front door, pointing, “What a wonderful idea Steve! I wish you both a lovely first date!”

  “Eddie!” you shriek, stomping towards the door, but he’s gone. 

  The bell chimes as he dashes through it with a salute, Steve clears his throat while you stand frozen, staring at the closed glass doors. 

  After Eddie had found you yesterday, and thoroughly bothered you about your outfit, and what he didn’t interrupt, because there was nothing to interrupt, he’d shown up at your apartment with far too many questions and far too much of an opinion on your relationship with Steve Harrington.

  Not a relationship. A friendship.

  No. 

  A mutual understanding. A common ground. An agreement of ceasefire of your overt…hatred. A, maybe, slow ascent to friendship, one day, perhaps. 

  Which seemed to please the idiot who was betting against Steve winning, well into the night. So, he agreed to take you out to lunch the next day, honoring your tradition, yet assuring you that the conversation was in fact, not over. 

  Robin finally breaks the silence, calling your name, then, “You good?”

  “Yeah,” you mumble, crossing your arms, “Just debating sleeping with Harrington so Eddie loses three hundred dollars.”

  There’s a choking sound behind you, and you spin to see Steve’s mouth stuffed with Red Vines.

  Your Red Vines. 

  “Are you kidding me? What did I say!”

  You stomp towards him and he holds up his hands in surrender, talking around the candy, “Hey, remember me? Steve,” he swallows, backing away and tripping over his heels. “I’m the guy who brought you coffee two mornings in a row and has the ability to bring you to a delicious, cheesy burger, fast?”

  You’re inches from him and he yelps, wincing before you even attack, then a shouted, “I’ll pay!”

  Stopping in front of him, you snatch up the package of Red Vines and growl, “And a shake.”

  Robin gapes at the two of you, then looks at Steve, “You brought her coffee? You never bring me coffee.”

  Steve glares at her while he grabs the package of candy back and holds them high above your head, ignoring your protests. 

  “You can have these back when you learn to say please.”

  “Can you pass the salt?” You speak around the fries in your mouth.  

  Steve sits across from you, eyebrows raised. 

  “Please,” you grumble. 

  You shake the salt over the basket sitting between the two of you after he hands it to you. The basket holding the fries he ordered immediately and flashed the waitress a smile and wink for so you got some food fast while you waited for burgers and shakes. 

  He watches your shoulders relax after a few bites, and decides he can attempt conversation, “Better?”

  Your head nods, fingers covering your mouth full of food as you say, “Yeah. Thank you.”

  Steve nods too, looking anywhere but you while you lick salt from your thumb or suck on the straw in your glass of coke. 

  “Glad I could help.” He risks stealing a fry for himself, his stomach grumbling in protest as it watches you eat and it gets nothing. 

  “Sorry,” you fiddle with the straw wrapper in your hands, shrugging, “I know I much more resembled a ravenous wild animal than a normal human being back there.”

  “Glad you said it,” he mutters, ducking when you throw the folded straw wrapper at his face. He catches it, playing with it between his own hands, staring at the table. “You were pretty upset though, what’d you mean about tradition?”

  You shove fries in your mouth, buying time to respond, wondering how much you should tell Steve. 

  “Um,” you cough into your fist, squinting out the window at the sky turning gloomy. 

  “It’s okay,” Steve waves it off, “I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to tell me.”

  He shoves fries into his own mouth, right as the waitress brings two burgers over, sliding a strawberry shake onto the sticky tabletop. Steve’s chewing becomes frantic, holding up his hand and you’re saying the words before you can even register what you’re doing.

  “Could he get some extra pickles please?” 

  “Of course, hon,” she sways off, delivering another shake at a different table while Steve blinks at you. 

  “What?” You avoid his intense gaze, looking at your burger as you lift it to your lips. 

  “Didn’t think you were paying that much attention to me,” he finally says, smiling at the waitress when she drops off a small container of pickles. 

He looks at his burger, not you, so maybe that’s why it’s easier to keep talking about it.

  “Kind of make it hard to not pay attention, Harrington.”

  The pair of you sit in silence, chewing your burgers as rain starts to tap softly against the window, the red neon sign next to you flickering and making his yellow tshirt orange. 

  “Wish I knew you were watching sooner,” Steve looks up to find you already staring, “Wouldn’t have acted like such an idiot, maybe this would be a different story.”

  Your heart thuds in your ears, too warm under the softness of his eyes.

  “Acted?” You manage to push past your lips, tilting your head. 

  Steve smiles, and grabs for the shake, waiting for you to protest him putting a second straw into it. When you don’t, you surprise yourself by offering up, “It’s from the night we met.”

  He blinks at you, wrinkle forming between his brows as he sucks on the straw between his lips. You look away from them as you clarify, “Eddie. The diner. It’s a tradition from the night we met.”

  “Oh,” Steve nods, pushing the shake away and returning to his burger, adding another pickle. 

  “Yeah, I,” you close your eyes, then open them to look down at your food, blurting out, “Met him, after I threw that beer. In Brendan’s face. He took me to the diner, here, for pie, and I sort of spilled my guts to him.”

  Steve’s jaw pulses, the furrow of his forehead only deepening as you explain, not lessening. He takes another bite of his burger, ketchup smearing against the side of his mouth, offering you a reprieve from staring at his lips as he speaks around his bite, “Got it. That’s when you guys started dating, right?”

  You blink, lips parting but nothing comes out other than a shocked, “Ha!”

  Steve looks up at the scoff, taking in your wrinkled nose and how your eyes stare at his lips as you laugh, “Eddie…Ed,” you giggle, “No.”

  “You and…never?” Steve sits up straighter, eyes bouncing between your own. 

  “Not even a little bit,” you laugh, touching your lip, “You’ve got…”

  Steve swipes at his lips while he asks, “But you said you spilled your guts, I just assumed after what that asshole said and did that Munson like comforted and you and…”

  He trails off as you lean forward, rolling your eyes. 

  Your thumb swipes over the corner of his lip as you shrug, “Yeah, we bonded over assholes and crushing on people who’d never give us the time of day while sharing cherry pie. Best friends ever since.”

  Steve’s heart thrums as your fingers linger on his jaw, before you sit back again.

  And then you lick the ketchup off of your thumb. 

  He finally stumbles over the words, “I love pie.”

  “Yeah?” You grin, grabbing the shake.

  Steve nods, keeping eye contact as your cheeks hollow around the straw. But then he rolls his shoulders back and grabs the shake out from your lips and back across the table.

  “Except cherry. You’re delusional for choosing that over lemon.”

  “You’re delusional,” you yank the shake back towards you, “If you think you’re having any more of this.”

  Steve leans over the table as you begin to sip the shake again, only to wrap his lips around the second straw, noses bumping as he tries to drink it faster than you at the same time. 

  Your feet are intertwined under the table as you push at his shoulder and he tugs on the glass, both of you making a slurping noise as you get to the bottom, then grabbing at your temples from brain freezes while laughing.

  “I can’t stand you,” you push the glass towards the middle of the table. 

  “That’s better than detest, I’ll take it.”

    Hawkins, Indiana - Thursday

  Steve holds out the bag of popcorn to you, and you grin, taking some as you lean into him, a little tipsy, in the backseat of his car. 

  You, because you were last out to the car, and Steve, because he doesn’t do well in the front seat when Robin is driving. 

  Which is saying something, because Eddie isn’t doing so hot as it is.

  “No, Buckley!”

  “Give me a break, Eddie! It is super dark outside, and I’m a new driver, never attempted driving in the rain, and I don’t know wiper speed to rain droplet ratio!”

  You snort, nose in the popcorn bag as your shoulders shake. 

  Steve shushes you, mumbling, “You’re kind of a menace tonight.”

  “Eddie’s,” you hiccup, blinking up under heavy eyelashes at Steve’s profile, mesmerized by the freckles that dot it, “Fault. Got me all that beer.”

  “No comments-” Robin begins to talk over her shoulder.

  “Ba-ah-ah,” Steve points forward, stepping on an invisible brake in the backseat while Eddie grabs her chin and keeps it locked straight ahead.

  “From the peanut gallery,” she finishes loudly.

  “No peanuts back here,” you throw a piece at Eddie’s ear, “Just popcorn!”

  Steve remains facing forward, watching intently as Eddie directs Robin on slick roads towards her house. “You didn’t have to drink it all.”

  “Oh,” you sigh, sliding over to the window and pressing your forehead against the cool glass, “But I did, Harrington. For I am the champion of bowling night!”

  He opens his mouth, but you sit up straight again, and press your finger to his lips, softly saying (but thinking you’re singing), “No time for losers.”

  Steve smiles behind your finger, eyes soft and melting you a little. 

  Which you almost say out loud, but the song on the radio grabs your attention. You squeal, which makes Robin jump, which makes the car sway and Steve grab your shoulders, pushing you back on the seat as you yell, “Turn it up!”

  “You’re such a loser,” Eddie grumbles, but does as you request. 

  Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes plays a little louder, but no one can tell, because you’re loudly singing over him.

Eddie rolls his eyes at the way Steve watches you, and Robin bites her lip, fighting back laughter as you shout, “You all love this song, don’t lie to me!”

  You scream into your fist, dramatically singing, tossing your head, pointing at each of them. 

  “And all my instincts,” you take a deep breath and whip over to Steve, kneeling on the seat, “They return!”

  You shove your fist into Eddie’s face, who pretends to bite it, refusing to sing. But finally melts at your pout, mumbling along with you, “Without my pride.” Robin happily joins in, in a high falsetto, when you whip your fake microphone over to her, “I reach out from the inside.”

  As they all join in with you for the chorus, you fall backwards, laughing, catching Steve’s eyes. 

  You’d like to blame the beer, the cozy dark backseat, the way Steve smells, the rain, the fucking song. And while you can’t blame them for something that was inevitable, you can pretend that without this specific combination you never would have. 

  If you were sober, and In Your Eyes came on, you never would have touched the two freckles on Steve’s cheek, your fake microphone falling limp, palm flat against his chest. 

  If it weren’t dark, and he didn’t smell so good, you never would have let those same fingers drag down his jaw, only to linger on his lips. 

  And if it weren’t raining, and Robin hadn’t taken a second to look back in her mirror and say, “Holy shi-“

  It never would have happened. 

  Eddie shouts, Robin screams, and something heavy and warm is on top of you as the car spins on the water that’s flooded the streets. 

  Your ears are ringing, muffled words lost in the sound, and you can’t move, something holds you down. 

  It takes a second to realize the car isn’t moving anymore, and there’s hands on your cheeks. When your eyes blink open, there’s golden hazel ones that remind you of a scared boy looking at you intently.

  “Are you okay?” He gasps from on top of you where you’re both horizontal in the backseat now.

  “I’m fine,” Robin says sarcastically from the front seat, “Thanks for-“ Eddie shushes her.

  “Of course,” you grumble, hands that were clutched in Steve’s shirt loosening and pushing at him.

  His hands shake on your cheeks, fingers touching a spot on your forehead that has you wincing and his chest moving up and down faster.

  “Harrington,” you push at him more, his hand cups your cheek, eyes turning glassy as you insist, “I’m fine, get off.”

  “Hey,” you shake his shoulder as stares at your forehead, breathing harder still, “Harrington, relax. We’re all fine.”

  The side of his face flashes with red and blue, his heartbeat thuds against your chest as his breathing continues to ramp up. Your hands cup his jaw, thumbs delicately swiping over his cheeks. 

  “Steve. Look at me.”

  His shoulders shake with a stuttered breath and then his hand quickly reaches forward, gently cupping the back of your head as the door behind you opens. 

  Someone speaks, but neither of you hear them, eyes remaining on each other as you whisper, “Take a deep breath, Steve. Please?”

  You nod as he does, your hands loosening on his cheeks as he starts to let his weight hover over you instead of pushing you down. 

  A voice from behind you asks Steve to get out first. He’s held back as paramedics help you out of the car and lead you over to the back of the ambulance. Robin stands next to you and you shake your head, the words I’m so sorry easily able to read off of your lips and Robin stops them with her hand up. 

  Eddie stands next to him, watching, just as intently, and he clears his throat. 

  “That was…” he starts, looking at Steve, then back at you, now getting your forehead looked at. “Glad you were back there, man.”

  Steve nods, numb, as he watches you wince and say, “I’m fine,” to the EMT stitching you up. His fingers graze down the bridge of his nose and his swipes underneath it, nodding when Eddie says he’s gonna go check on Robin. 

  Everyone is fine, save for your head injury. His car is fine, save for a ding on the back bumper.

  Your side. 

  He saved you.

  He protected you. 

  He was scared for you. 

  Your heartbeat picks up as your gaze on the wet asphalt beneath your scuffed sneakers catches bright Nike’s approaching. 

  “How’s the patient?” 

  Steve’s voice is soft, scared, not a thing like you’ve ever heard before. 

  Which is maybe why when you look up at him, nothing comes out of your parted lips.

  Rain drips from the tip of Steve’s hair, curling around his ears, a droplet caught on his cupid’s bow, darkening the green shirt he wears. 

  The EMT stares down at you, waiting, then she smiles, staring at your forehead as she offers, “She’ll be okay. No concussion, probably a little sleepy from the pain meds she just took, but overall just a little dinged up. Nothing a little night of tender loving care from her boyfriend can’t fix.”

  “Oh, no, I’m-“

  “He’s not, we’re not-“

  Steve and you talk at the same time, stopping when the other speaks. 

  “Oh, my mistake,” she hums. She looks down at you as she inspects her last stitch, smiling softly, “Well, maybe some tender loving care from a friend then. Can I count on you handsome? Get her home safely?”

  Steve nods, cheeks pink as he waits for you to stand, his hand resting by your elbow just in case, then hovering near your lower back as he walks behind you towards his car. 

  “Dingus!” Robin shouts from Hopper’s truck. 

  Steve turns to look at her, and as he holds the door open for you, he leans down and murmurs, “I’ll be right back, you’re…you okay?”

  “Mhm,” you nod, blinking from the pain of the movement. 

  Steve doesn’t look like he believes you, but nods, and closes your door softly, running over to the truck, squinting in the rain. 

A soft tap hits the glass of your door and you jump, rolling the window down for Eddie, the boys swapping places without you realizing.

  “Hey sweetheart, how you doing?” He folds his arms on the frame of the door, bent down to take a closer look at your head. 

  “I’m fine,” you answer without thinking.

  Eddie’s lips twitch, fighting the urge for the joke, “Of course you are. You okay with Harrington taking you back? Hopper always can? Need me to stay over?”

  You watch Robin grab Steve’s jaw, pushing and pulling him to inspect him while he rolls his eyes and pushes her off. A much more physical approach, but the same as Eddie’s nonetheless. 

  When you don’t say anything, he follows your gaze and sighs. “Yeah, you’re okay. Fucking hell, I gotta figure out where I’m getting three hundred dollars from, thanks a lot you Peter Gabriel loving dork.”

  “Eddie, I-“ you protest and he waves his hand, smiling.

  “Save it, you’re hook line and sunk for him. You have been since the day I met you, fine.”

  He kisses your temple, opposite of your cut, and taps the hood of the car before jogging over to the truck, swapping with Steve again. But he pauses in the middle, grabbing Steve’s shoulder and pointing at the car, then pats him and jogs off again. 

  Once Steve is back in the car, you wait for him to drive, to say something, but he looks at you expectantly and then you realize-

  Your seatbelt. 

  “Sorry,” you murmur, and then it’s silent. 

  No radio. 

  No talking.

  Just the swish of rain on the pavement under spinning wheels. The rhythmic pit then pat of it hitting his windows, the slosh of the wipers back and forth. Steve’s breathing. 

  You don’t realize you’ve been soothed to sleep from it all, the combination of alcohol and adrenaline fading, until the car is coming to a complete stop, engine off, and your door is being opened. 

  Steve leans over you, unbuckling the seatbelt, whispering, “Come on, trouble.”

  “Mmm,” you protest, eyelashes fluttering, head hitting the headrest with a frown. “Steve.”

  “I know, just a few more minutes then you’ll be in bed, come on.”

  His hands slide into yours, gently pulling you from the car, guiding you towards the stairs. Your lead filled eyelids blink with each step, as you mumble, “Keys.”

  “I got ‘em, come on,” his hand presses to your lower back, then roams higher, pressing lightly when you sigh from the feeling. 

  A door opens, a hand wraps around your waist and a shoulder supports your head. 

  Steve blinks in the low light of your lamp that must be on a timer, taking in your space for the first time. He closes your door, keeping his hand on your waist to steady you as you sway while he bends down. 

  He watches you, as he unties a sneaker, patting your ankle as he quietly says, “Lift your leg up for me, honey.”

  You do as you’re told, blinking down at the boy who gently removes your shoe, then the other as you rest your hands on his shoulders for balance. 

  “Steve,” you gulp around his name, blinking back tears.

  He looks up at his name, frowning as he stands, large hands cradling your jaw as he tuts. “Hey, what’s the matter? What’re these for, huh?”

  His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, catching big tears that spill over your lashes as you blubber, “I’m so so-sorry. Everyone could have been really hurt. I hate Peter Gabriel. I’ll ne-never listen to hi-him again.”

  Steve laughs, and you frown, blinking at him through tears, “It-it’s not funny. Stop laughing at me.”

  He clears his throat, nodding, “Right. It’s not funny.”

  His lips twitch when you frown more, fingers curling around his wrists that still support your cheeks.

  “Bedroom?” He asks softly.

  “Harrington,” you sniffle, eyes rolling, “I hardly think this is the time to try to make a move.”

  He shakes his head, “I meant so I can set you up before I leave, smartass.”

  You point down the hallway, but then sigh, “Can you get me a glass of water.”

  He raises his eyebrows at you expectantly.

  “Please?” you pout your lips out.

  Steve nods towards your bedroom, “Yeah, I can do that.”

  He watches you wander down the hallway, and click on a light in your room, before he heads to your kitchen. As he fills the glass up, he takes the opportunity to glance around at pieces of you he’s not normally let in on. Wondering where certain trinkets are from and what they mean to you. He notices the large collection of vinyl. He grins at the stack of Family Video tapes that are clearly over the rental limit, even for employees. 

  And he’s ready to say something sassy to you about it, when he reaches your room, but you’re already laying in your bed, eyes closed and curled up on your side.

  In his sweatshirt. 

  He sets the glass of water on the nightstand, then lifts your comforter, pulling it over bare legs exposed from small sleep shorts. He leaves a quick note about leaving your front door key in your mailbox. 

  Steve hesitates before clicking off the light, taking in your slow, even breaths, the shadows on your face, peaceful with sleep. 

  He kisses your cheek as he turns off the light, lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than he probably should have. 

  “Goodnight, honey.”

AN: thanks for your patience in this chapter and the next! This chapter is actually what sparked the core of this whole series, and I’m excited to finally share it with you. It was originally being written in the winter, and the events of this chapter are heavily inspired by a moment that happened between my parents before they were married! My dad and mom were in the backseat of a car, an accident happened, and my dad had leaned over to protect my mom, and she says that's when she knew she was in love with him. Take that for this story however you'd like 🤭 So while it’s not exactly what happened anymore, the essence is still there and I hope you love it, it definitely holds a special place in my heart. Also, I simply can’t help myself from including The Princess Bride in all of my series it seems. Thanks for being here!

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