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jazjelspen · 7 months

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my angel baby (part 4)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(requested tags: @insomniacfigure @pooplyface1423 @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @maliciousmace @nevermorekisses @wildfire153)

(thanks to my amazing editor for helping me with this chapter!! @kruncher mwa mwa! /p)

It's been half a month, and you still aren't sure if you really wanna do this.

Sure you have done your research on spells, blessings, everything to protect yourself and maybe even others while venturing into Hell, possibly even in battle if you felt brave enough.

But nonetheless, it was conflicting. Not only were you going to see your father again but you're going to be literally in hell-- the terrible place was always a tempting topic to bring up in a hushed conversation, though few actually dared to do it. It's the worst place to go to after death, everyone on earth hated speaking of it and mentioning it was somewhat like a bad omen, at least from how you've seen others react to it at certain times.

Why bother diving head first into a realm where none of it’s events or residents were any of your business? The souls are in hell for certain specific reasons, so why bother saving a world that was meant to be the end of the line.

Oh but-- Charlie.

Charlie Morningstar's case and evidence sure intrigued you, but was it really worth the risk? Is it worth the sacrifice, the hiding, the possible dying to try to save a bunch of sinners? All of them, more than likely... are very much similar to, if not the same as, your father.

"Maybe..n-.." you breathed out loud, your hand moving away from under your chin as you were stuck in thought sitting at your desk. You were reluctant, of course you'd be.

You looked down at your bag on the floor beside your desk, filled with supplies and necessities for venturing into hell-- you planned it out but-- was it really.. Do these sinners truly deserve to be saved? Helped?

Why, of course they do.

At the very least.. some of them.

Those who genuinely want redemption and those who committed sins in which they had no choice before they died or to help others. Those are the ones who should be saved.

And from what you learned in the court trial exactly half a month ago, you could only imagine how many sinners Adam and his fleet of Exorcists slayed that were genuinely hoping for a better chance at this 'second' life.

Besides-- why not save lives? Even if they weren't worth saving, even if you didn't know them personally or at all. Isn't that why you got into heaven anyway? Because you sacrificed yourself for someone you didn't know in the slightest?

You died for that reason, what's so wrong in doing it a second time?

Besides, souls like that one sinner Charlie showed the court, Angel Dust, could be on the path to light and eternal paradise... you could almost feel it in your bones and you bet Emily did too.

Wait, that's right--

Emily!

You could have almost jumped from your seat, Emily was the key to your path to Hell! But how to get to her-- Sera was always around..

Oh-- No, no, this is too good.

Ever since the court day Emily has been getting a bit more distant from Sera, if you could find Emily alone once without any inclination you were seeking her out then you could do it! Convincing shouldn't be too hard, she feels the same way as you do in a certain way.

You've been so caught up in your plan to escape disguised as an exorcist that you couldn't see the answer right in front of you! All those weeks wasted-- the initial plan was bound to fail anyway no matter the amount of preparation since, according to your research, the exorcist angels were scattered everywhere in their HQ like a beehive swarm; like busy bees buzzing with bloodlust. They seemed to all recognize each other and have specific physical attributes that you lacked immensely, even if you were to try and steal a uniform you really couldn't because-- you didn't know where they kept them inside.

You took in a deep breath in and out, 'I'm definitely not coming back unscathed..' you thought 'but.. everyone deserves a second chance, even sinners. And if they really don't deserve it then might as well save them so that they may continue living out their eternal sentences with no easy way out.'

You then looked towards a corner of your desk, grabbing a small and recent photo you took with someone very dear to you. You smiled softly at it before letting out a gentle huff of confidence and then carefully stuffing that photo in your bag for your trip to hell.

You then grabbed your bag, put it over your shoulder, and carefully walked out of your home.

It was currently early night in heaven, the sky as always was filled with stars that glow immensely so that heaven is never in utter darkness. At this time of the evening everyone was home and getting ready for bed, shops closing, people walking home. Thankfully you've hung around Emily long enough to know that when she's bothered by something, she doesn't go to sleep easily till she can fix it, and from what you knew the extermination in hell was still going to happen.

Your wings started to gently flap and as quietly as they could they flew you up to the home quarters of Emily and Sera, them owning a taller building than the ordinary 'winner' would have considering their higher statuses.

It wasn't that hard to fly by since there was no need for security or guards, heaven never exactly needed to be protected from the inside.

You made your way around a high up balcony, one that you knew led to Emily's quarters. You noticed the balcony doors closed but light flickered from within; she's in there.

Your feet carefully plopped themselves on the balcony, nervously lifting your hand to knock on it-- still hesitant.

'Do I really want to do this?'

It was too late to even ask that now, for your hand already knocked on the glass surface of the balcony door, breath hitched-- you awaited an answer.

...

The sound of pitter pattering steps could be heard from the inside as they neared where you were standing, a figure approached you from behind the glass.

Emily!

You smiled and waved at her awkwardly as she looked at you with a mix of shock, joy, and exhaustion. She opened the door to you with anticipation.

"______! How are you!... wait-- what are you doing here? It's late, you should be at home.."

"Look Emily," you said breathlessly due to your anxiety. "There's no easy way to say this but I need a huge favor from you.. bigger than anything I could ever ask for and will ever ask for. Not only that but- I'm sure you'll believe in my cause.."

She hummed in thought, eyes narrowed at you in an attempt to see if she should listen to her head or heart. "I'm listening..."

You then nodded towards the inside of her room, silently asking if you could go inside so no prying ears could hear you, even if it's unlikely. She read the words in your expression as she nodded and welcomed you in, closing the door behind her carefully.

You started whispering, "I need you to teleport me into hell."

Emily's breathing scuffled a bit, absolutely shocked from your request. "Hell??.. but why?.. ______ you nor I have ever been to hell!.. you could get really hurt or worse die..!" she whisper-yelled in concern to one of her best friends.

"Well-- we aren't sure if they can truly kill angels but I've practiced a few spells to try to defend myself. You know I'm a lot faster with my wings and if I find Charlie I'm sure she'll keep me from getting hurt!.."

"Charlie?.." she asked, now fully remembering what happened on that fateful court day "Wait, you want to go to hell to see Charlie?"

You nodded, "I have to, it's the only way I can survive there. Besides, I need to help her.. you know that what Adam and Sera are letting happen is unjust and inhumane.. you and I both know and agree about this and you can help me by sending me down there."

"but.. _____ I--"

"Emily, the extermination is going to happen in less than a month now.. there's no time left to leave this in the air."

"______.. are you even sure you'll survive a second down there? how do you even know you need to be there, if you really want to help you can try and stay up here where it's safe--"

You let out a quick sigh of fear, afraid that she's getting cold feet "C'mon.. even with your influence Adam won't stop and neither has Sera ordered him to pause for even a moment.. Besides, if they need to have sinners show their improvement and actually redeem themselves.. they need someone who actually has been in heaven and knows how to get there.

They need a role-model, an example, and I'm willing to help and sacrifice myself a second time to at least give other people a second chance at 'living'.

This time, you shut Emily up, she's speechless-- you truly took her breath away with how determined you were. You were right to some extent, help from a 'winner' for sinners, become just like them as a teacher and be an example could genuinely make much improvement and possibly open the case once more.

She softly smiled at you, a small amount of pride swelling in her chest, pride that she has for you and hope that she has in your mission.

"Well.. I'll take you there but not without one thing--" she stepped closer to you and folded three fingers of her right hand, then crossed you with them in an all too familiar pattern. Right shoulder, left shoulder, forehead, chest. The sign of the Cross. A sudden glow shined from you for a split second as if a star bursted around you,

"A protection spell. To protect you from the strongest blow that encounters itself towards you, it only works once but it's the strongest spell I know that can be an extra safety net for you down there.. meanwhile I'll try my best to convince Sera to think differently about the genocides.."

"Oh.. thank you Ems!.." you hugged her and she hugged back tightly, both of you guys brimming in a flurry of hope, determination, and anxiety. "I won't let you down.. I promise when I come back, and I will, Adam won't need to kill anymore people with his exorcists anymore.."

"Just-- be careful, _____. You're one of a kind, no one helps and brightens things up like you do.." she backed away from the hug only to hold your hands and smile at you, conflicted but convinced by you.

"Promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Pinky.. promise?" she took out her pinky finger for you to hold onto, to reassure her that she's making the right decision. Helping you.. she doesn't want to lose you by sending you down your death sentence.

"Hehe.. pinky promise." you took out your own pinky finger to wrap it around hers, another spark lighting up around your wrapped fingers as if sealing the deal.

"Good.. once again are you sure you're prepared??.." she couldn't help but ask-- she didn't want to lose her best friend..

"I'm ready to face what I have to face, ready as I'll ever be." you let out a shaky sigh, betraying you slightly.

Emily let out a shaky sigh of her own before stepping back and slowly summoning a portal, it starting from a little glow in the air to slowly trying to mass itself into your height and size so you may go through with ease. It was difficult since it was mostly Sera or Adam opening them with constant ease and she never really had to until now, unfortunately though.. it was starting to make noise.

You hold your bag as tightly as you could, double checking if all the zippers are closed before preparing yourself for the even growing yellow portal.

"I don't know exactly where the Hazbin Hotel is so-- be... be careful _____.."

You looked at her and nodded with confidence, a look of strength emitting from your face.

There was shuffling from the hallway outside Emily's room, "Emily? What are you doing at this time of the night?" Sera could be heard from afar, her voice loudly echoing across and even through the closed doors.

Emily sped through her magic as she used as much of her mental strength as she could to open up the portal, it shouldn't be that hard but-- she never had to do this, she never thought she would do this. She was only in charge of keeping you happy-- but if this were to make you happy, then she's obliged to do so.

The portal was finally big enough for you to enter through, both of you hearing loud oncoming steps coming from outside the halls and in a quick motion you waved at Emily with a smile, her doing the same thing before finally-- you jumped into hell.

Right as you disappeared into the yellow and gold void, she let herself go from holding it open and right as Sera was opening the door, without even knocking mind you, the portal disappeared from thin air and all that was left was Emily standing in the middle.

"What are you even doing?.." asked Sera looking puzzled.

Emily chuckled nervously, shrugging her shoulders "Practicing for next show's fireworks..? heh.."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You on the other hand-- were being slammed against a hard metal surface that smelled like rotten flesh and food, dried blood, and other stinky items. Hitting your head against it causes you to groan in pain and slowly hold your head, the smell beside you slowly making you feel a bit sick.

Your halo, clattering to the ground, its glow still present on it.. confirming your status to still be an angel.

"Fuck.." you mumbled, rubbing the back of your head while picking yourself up from the ground. Looking at your surroundings you were in a sort of alley, the metal surface being a large dumpster. Your wings flapped a bit to stretch them out from the hit you took.

You look at your halo and feel a huge sigh of relief get out of your mouth, despite knowing that only becoming a fallen could only happen if the court officially banishes you from heaven from all you knew it still felt good to know you're still the same you. Besides, you didn't know if a winner has ever become sinner before so.. that at least helped your mind keep itself from flipping over.

God..but your surroundings?

It reeked.

You peeked a bit in the dumpster out of curiosity but the intensity of the smell made you wanna puke so your nose begged you to move away. Now looking at the exit out of the alley you first picked up your halo to then place it above your head, floating above you right after letting it go. Picking up your bag once again to hold it tightly near you so no one would steal it.. being as cautious as you could.

Slowly peeking out of the alley you noticed a humble little town with colors of red, shades of pink, and filled with a few sharp toothed people. Everyone walked around casually and happily, like how normal humans would. Despite how huge the place is there seems to be a lack of crowds.. as if half of the town is missing.

Huh, this place reminded you of a sunny day in New Orleans when you were alive. Is this.. really hell? You haven't come across any people jumping out to kill you or anyone else randomly but a few explosions from far away still made you jerk from fear.

You carefully stepped out of the alley, feeling especially out of place the moment you started walking out. People with various shades of gray skin, everyone with blacked out eyes, sharp teeth, and all still dressed in clothes from around the time you died, maybe a bit of more older fashions but still.. reminded you of back home on earth just slightly.

Each step you took was a new question that you gave yourself.. where were you? is this a level or part of hell? does hell look this way all the time? is the Hazbin Hotel of walking distance? is Emily okay? why does the air smell weird? is your dad Alastor around? is it obvious im not from here-- oh of course it is you have a fucking halo damn it.

'Everyone looks almost normal," you thought 'Maybe I can try to find someone to help m--'

"Oh!.." you bumped into someone, someone small. You looked down to see a fairly normal looking child with eyes entirely blacked out, no pupils to be seen. Geez.. you couldn't lie but they creeped you out a bit.

"Hello there.. sorry I didn't see you.." you spoke to the kid despite how weary you were, giving it an apologetic smile while waving a little towards them in a very awkward manner.

They spoke nothing but instead flashed you a large sharp toothed smile that made your blood curl a bit, what made it worse was what it did next.

"It's okay missy! I like your wings!" Normally you'd smile more and make small talk but-- then the kid took out a cut off hand from behind their back and started chomping it on it as if it was corn on the cob. With your skin crawling and your face as white as a sheet from the shock, the kid then proceeded to run off nibbling on the bleeding hand.

You stood there frozen, your stomach begging to release anything you ate before you came upon here. You slowly turned your head to the right, your peripheral vision noticing a large wooden sign.

'Welcome to Cannibal Town!'

'Well that.. really explains it.' you took a few deep breaths as you tried to control yourself and your upcoming panic as to not alert other cannibals of your fear.. but you could've sworn they could probably smell it off of you.

Would they eat you? Are they going to eat you?.. but some have been looking at you walking by-- are they getting ready to pounce on you, bite off your flesh and--

You stopped in your tracks, noticing how further you are in the town from all your overthinking. You looked up to see that you are at the front steps of a small stage?.. gazebo..? you couldn't remember how hard your heart was pounding.

All of a sudden you felt an incredibly sharp pain on your wing, one that made you shriek aloud and everyone suddenly stopped and stared at you. You turned to see an old lady with a cane looking very similar to other residents around you-- BITE your wing?? what the actual living fuck??

The old woman seemed to grin and licking the golden blood from the bite she got from your wings, fortunately for you she only bit and didn't actually get a chunk of your wing off instead.. either way it fucking stung the way a large wasp sting would.

"Angel wings.. not bad at all-- OUCH!!" The old lady then let out a shriek herself, being hit by the end of a sun umbrella this time and whoever was holding it was shooing her away from you.

"Shoo! Shoo! Susan!! Run off now! We don't bite new otherworldly guests like that!" The voice shouted before the old woman scurried off just as fast as she came.

You whimpered a bit as your bitten and slightly bleeding wing leaned towards your hands, your palms and fingers then gently caressing them as an attempt to soothe the pain with tears brimming and silently sliding down your eyes.

"Oh I'm so sorry about that sweetheart, that old hag has no manners." The same voice, a woman's voice, called out to you. Her appearance also looks similar to everyone else, the only difference is her large hat decorated with elaborate feathers and adorned with a small skull.

"Let me see that dear.." she leaned in with her hand reaching towards your wing but of course you flinched away from her, absolutely not trusting her in the slightest form your first terrible experience and the many words of others before you.

You looked at her with fear you've never felt before, fear that you haven't felt since your death. You quickly backed away, your injured wing cowering towards your hands and chest.

'Holy.. fuck..'

"The names Rosie, sweetheart, what's a pretty little thing like you walking around here with no sense of danger?"

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alastor held you in his arms as your nine year old self was fiddling with a toy in your hands after a long day of being taken care of by one of Alastor's lady friends. The man was coming out of work from hosting his famous radio show as he usually always did and now was entering his home after a tiring day from work and honestly he wasn't up for taking care of you right now. If anything he should've probably let you stay with the woman forever and he wouldn't have to be dealing with baby troubles..

Yet everyday you somehow always gave him a reason to keep you despite his almost heartless nature.

He walked in his home and closed the door behind him, locking it as well. Walking over to the sofa he turned on a nearby lamp before setting you down on the cushions and let you be in your own world while he then went to go eat something himself. You didn't have to since the woman that babysat fed you quite well and you liked what she gave so there was no need for you to be overfed.

Alastor went to prepare a meal for himself, not saying much to you in the process since all he wanted was to eat and sleep so better to just fill one of the boxes on that checklist as soon as possible. So while you were still distracted he quickly made himself a meal and started eating so he wouldn't starve before bed.

You were playing with your toy the nice lady gave you, mumbling small nonsense here and there while playing around. Until you decided to speak up loudly from afar,

"Papa, can I ask something?" you talked as you kept yourself entertained with your toy.

Alastor sighed a bit "Yes dear, what is it?" exhaustion evident on his voice that contracted to his permanent smile, be it small or big.

"Is it true that when you found me, my mama and papa didn't want me because I was an ugly and loud cry-baby?"

Alastor almost spit out his food, inevitably starting choking on it. Saving himself from dying of choking by drinking his drink he set with his food and calmed down. "W.. Why do you think that sweetheart? Who told you such an untrue lie!.."

In truth, he didn't actually know why you were abandoned in that alley. All he found when he picked you up was you wrapped around in baby blankets in a basket and a note with a date on it, most likely your date of birth, but other than that he never knew why you ended up there and why. He simply just took you in and called you his own.

"The boys in the playground I played with said their mamas and papas knew you, and knew you found me. They then started saying I dress too girly and that my real mama and papa left me because I was ugly and a loud cry baby and that's why I don't have a mama and papa." Your little voice seemed to shake a bit but obviously tried your best to hide it away even at this young of an age.

But your father could see and hear right through you.

Alastor sighed before taking one last spoonful of his food before leaving his meal there to walk towards you, settling himself on the same sofa you both always make the best of memories, this being one of them.

"Well darling, those boys obviously have parents who don't educate them! And are as dull as a doorknob if they say all that foolish nonsense.. you do have a mama and papa!"

You looked at him incredibly confused, since when did you have a mother?

He noticed this and laughed a bit at your expression "Silly, I'm your mama and papa! I do both jobs! I make you food, I have clothes for you, I give you a home, I get you ready for school, I talk to you all the time because you're mine!" He spoke cheerily, as if stating a very well known fact "Their eyes also must not be working also since I think I got the prettiest daughter in all of New Orleans if I do say so myself!" he pinched your cheek playfully, making you giggle.

He continued on "Yes, you did indeed cry a lot as a small tiny baby but do you think I would've kept you if you were an enormous crybaby? Of course not! Which is why I still have you here with me." Alastor-- "And you dress too girly??.. why, but of course you'll dress the way you do.. you're my little girl! how will my little dove be able to shine in her natural beauty if she doesn't wear the most marvelous pieces of wardrobe I can get her!" He then continued to pinch both your cheeks at the same time, some of your cute baby fat still present on your face despite being a year behind in heading towards the double digits.

You giggled and laughed loudly, smiling.. just the way you should always be.

Yes he was too tired for this, he was downright exhausted, but hey-- if he can keep an unfaltering smile despite feeling this then of course he can keep up with you even if he's not in the mood. You're the only person who he doesn't like to see in pain, in tears--

It's his job to do this, for what is he if he leaves you wilting by yourself with no 'light' of your own to guide you.

Certainly, he wouldn't even deserve to be called your father.

"Oh and dear?"

"Yes papa!"

"What are the boys' names? And their parents? I must have a little chat with them soon!..."

Oh, Alastor.

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alchemistc · 3 months

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There's been something about the woobification of Buck that's been sitting on the tip of my tongue for weeks now, and I think I've finally figured it out.

This is, of course, mostly in reference to the moral outrage about a decade-ish (give or take) age gap between two adult men and the infantalization of one said grown man, so all the puritanism isn't really coming from a place of good faith anyway, but here's the thing that's been bugging me that I couldn't quite put a finger on until now.

Buck has people he goes to for certain things. He has, what are in his mind, experts in the field for most of the things he can't think through on his own, that he goes to for a sounding board.

He went to Hen to talk through the sperm donor dilemma for a few reasons that made sense to him. 1) She's a mom. She has very much had to deal with the reality of 'giving up' children she considered her own. Buck is aware that he would be giving up something that could mean something to him, and he wants to talk to someone who has some insight into that. 2) She's dealt with IVF. She knows the risks, she knows the trials and tribulations, she knows about this thing that he is thinking about agreeing to be a part of so she's going to have a fuller grasp on the enormity of everything this process entails.

And they drink about it. Hen gives him what she can and cautions him where she thinks she should and they continue to talk about it and regardless of what SHE thinks, he makes his mind up in part because he got to talk to his Expert.

Bobby is often his go to when he feels like he's losing his grip on things. He's seen Bobby staring down the bottom of the bottle. He's seen the work he's done to pull himself back into the world, and he's seen the way he fights for his family, his people. Buck leans on him in times of questioning himself because he knows Bobby has pulled himself off the ledge with bleeding hands and a bleeding heart.

He reaches out to Maddie about interpersonal shit constantly. We see it all the way back in S2 when he's starting to question what the hell he's still doing in Abby's apartment, and that never really changes. She's the one with advice for him when he's angry with his parents, upset with the firefam, worried about his friends, or just generally concerned with the way he's perceived by people or how he perceives the world. He goes to her when he's embarrassed, ashamed, because he knows she won't judge him for it. She'll call him out, for sure, but she's not going to look at him differently when she knows he's done something he considers bad behavior.

When he goes to her during the Tommy arc, he's there for one reason he'll admit, and another she has to ferret out. 1) He lied to his best friend and he doesn't know why. 2) Oh yeah he went on a date with a dude that's not strange WHY IS THAT STRANGE I'VE ALWAYS BEEN AN ALLY PLEASE DON'T PULL BACK THE CURTAIN - and Maddie is there with two things: 1) It's not weird but it IS new and something you clearly haven't worked through all the way which is why 2) you'll tell Eddie when you're ready

And Eddie is sort of his go-to to bounce ideas off of. Eddie is his Buck expert. Eddie is the guy who can sort through all the bullshit and who sees Buck for exactly who he is, every time, regardless of what Buck himself is thinking. Eddie is his best friend, and he knows the good the bad and the ugly better than anyone else. He is also, quite frankly, the one Buck seeks out to help him contextualize all of his romantic feelings for people. Eddie's the guy he talks to when he's interested in someone, when he's falling for someone, he's the guy through which Buck filters his love interests into the firefam. I do the same shit with my best friend. It's instinct to want the person you consider the expert on you to meet the person you are interested in, it's instinct to want them to like each other, to get along. Buck knows Eddie loves him (in whatever way you see that love, Buck knows Eddie loves him) and he wants this person who loves him to be at least an active listener as he talks himself through the minefield of relationships. I do also think that up until the events of season seven, Buck considers Eddie sort of an expert on that traditional love-marriage-kids-white-picket-fence relationship Buck thinks he's striving for - in a very naive way, because obviously the wasn't what Eddie and Shannon had and Buck knows that, but he's probably fed some of Eddie's rose colored reminiscences back into that notion.

When he comes out to Eddie he's got two worries. 1) I lied to you and I figured out why but I'm still a little worried you think it's weird and 2) I screwed it up with someone I really like and I don't know where to go from here.

And Eddie (Buck expert) reassures him that just because it's new and unexpected doesn't make it strange, that it doesn't change anything in their friendship. And then he gets right to the heart of it - if you like him you should reach out and tell him that. He doesn't know you like we do but if you give him the chance to, he'll love you as much as we do. If he doesn't give it the same shot you want to he's the idiot.

With all that context in mind, Buck isn't seeking out Tommy's attention because he wants an authority figure, or someone to take care of him, someone to guide him through sex or love or relationship dynamics or any of the other random shit I've seen ppl infantalizing Buck about.

What he's looking for, and what he ultimately tells Tommy he'd like to pursue, is a partnership. Someone to walk (or more likely for Buck, speedrun) through experiences together. The Athena to his Bobby, the Chim to his Maddie, the Karen to his Hen.

So every time I see someone infantalizing Buck for seeking out a relationship with an older man for X or Y reason, I'm just like - no. He has Bobby, Hen, Maddie, Eddie, Chim etc for that. He doesn't want or need Tommy for that. He is a grown ass man who has built these strong relationships with his peers and his mentors and he is so fucking aware of that because he reaches for their help any time he feels the urge for a helping hand.

So yeah, Tommy's older. Yes, Tommy has more experience with his sexuality than Buck. And that - that's really it. Buck's been in the same career for more than half a decade. He's lived on his own since he was no older than 19/20. He's had serious relationships, he has a rich and fulfilling life. There is no power imbalance in the relationship between Buck and Tommy.

And while the age gap may be a bit of a draw for Buck, it's not WHY he's attracted to Tommy. We know because he's told Maddie. He's cool. He's interesting. He's confident. He has a cleft.

Buck isn't going into this waiting for someone older and more experienced to take the fucking reins. He felt like he clicked with Tommy, like there was an immediate connection, and yes, Tommy had to kiss him about it for Buck to actually figure out what it was he was experiencing, but from that point on it was all on Buck (and the people he leans on for advice) to help him sort through.

Tommy didn't do shit other than pump the brakes and try to give Buck the space he thought he needed to decide what he was ready for. Buck (again, with the help of his experts - Maddie for the emotional piece of it, Eddie for the Buck of it all) did the work on his own. Tommy didn't swoop in and overbearingly hold his hand through a sexual awakening. He kissed him, asked him out, realized he wasn't ready, stepped back and then checked in multiple times when Buck came back at it going 120 miles an hour.

And then he did everything he could to prove to Buck he wanted the same thing - a partner, someone to talk to, and lean on, and flirt with and rely on to show up whenever they could feasibly manage it (and sometimes when it's a little unfeasible too).

The narrative even acknowledges that Buck had no reason to go to Bobby in this scenario, when he often would, and lays out exactly why.

Within the canon of this particular arc, we're meant to see this as Buck realizing he has the experience necessary to think these things through on his own. This is Buck finally taking control of something that's always felt like it fell into his lap a bit. This is Buck doing more than treading water until his legs give out.

And minimizing that growth bc you personally don't like the LI he's pursuing is gross at best. At worst it's something much more insidious.

#anyway thats my rant i think #the fact that theres a group of people out there refusing to acknowledge that buck already HAS people for all the things they're #accusing tommy of 'taking advantage' of buck for #and buck ACTIVELY nourishes those relationships so he doesn't and would never NEED tommy for that #not in any way that tommy could manipulate him into dropping anyway #(not that Tommy would)#it drives me batty #im aware they're mostly bad faith shipper arguments #but its been driving me NUTS seeing glimpses of it #when discourse gets filtered onto my dash #bucktommy

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sophiethewitch1 · 8 months

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What We Want - Chpt. 3 - Dreams And...

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE) - PLEASE REMEMBER TO CHECK, THIS CHAPTER IS DARKER IN TONE!

PREV - NEXT

Your hands are pruned. It’s quiet in the extravagant bathroom, other than the sound of the tap’s running water and your own shaky breathing. This was all a bit much. Your hands are more than clean now, but you absolutely do not want to go back out there.

You kind of just want to go back into one of the stalls and cry. A core girlhood experience, except you were an adult with a job and taxes. Or, you were. You think you’re some rich scion or something in this dream. Which like, cool, who wants to slave under capitalism anyways?

…You wonder if anyone would notice if you slipped out the window. You’d been gone for a while and nobody had come looking for you, since you’d totally gotten lost trying to find the bathroom. Sure, you were on the third floor, but at this point you were willing to risk it. Even if you couldn’t walk in a straight line right now, much less climb the trellises. For some reason, you could not handle your liquor today like you usually could. But once again, this was all just a very vivid dream, so it wasn’t like you could die.

To punctuate that thought, you hear someone scream.

It cuts off instantly, and then there’s quiet again. You pause, then turn off the tap, listening for any more sound. Drip, drip, drip… you press the tap down again and properly turn it off. Still no noise. Immediately, you realise you are standing directly in a horror film. You live in Gotham for fuck’s sake. It wasn’t an unlikely occurrence. You’d gotten mugged just a few days ago.

And you were alone in the bathrooms. So unbelievably drunk, and alone in the bathrooms. You were actually so dead, it was crazy. A dream, a dream…!

Your head bows, staring into the white porcelain of the sink as you focus hard on your hearing. You don’t think you could hear the party before, but you’re not sure. It’s definitely not there now. You swallow the dry pain in your throat, trying to summon a modicum of courage. Your vision spins.

You slap your wet hands to your face and then blink through your fingers. God. Okay, okay, okay. You can do this. You survived a mugging just last week with only minimal bruising. To convince yourself of your badassery, you dig your fingers into the blemishes, hoping to wake yourself up with the pain. It’s a bad habit but you have lots of those.

…Where’s the pain? Oh god, where’s the pain? Wait, don’t panic, it’s a dream! Of course, you wouldn’t have your bruises in a dream. That made total sense. And you definitely weren’t panicking.

You splash more water on your face. Time to face the music, you drunken moron. If you were going to be in a horror movie, you’d be the final girl of all final girls.

One hand on the sink, you take your heels off. They’re going to get in the way, and the sound of them clicking against the marble will give away your location. Massaging your sore ankles, you try and come up with a game plan. You don’t know what’s going on, and it really could all just be a false alarm, but better safe than sorry and all that. It’s a gala full of some of the richest people on earth, and you’re pretty sure you saw a swat team of security guards at the entrance.

So this was probably a hostage situation or a villain attack. You’d hear more noise if it was a supervillain fighting a superhero downstairs. Then you’ll bet on a hostage situation for now. Depending on who had taken you all hostage, that could be a totally fine situation where you all just end up leaving with lighter purses, or it could be the Scarecrow’s shown up and he’s about to mentally traumatise you. Like you needed any more of that.

Of course, this was all probably still a dream. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll actually believe it. You’ll just plan ahead in case this is real (which it definitely isn’t). Plus you’d proven you could feel pain in this dream anyway, with all the times you’d slapped yourself. You hoped the fucking Tim Drake didn’t think you were too weird. Because he definitely thought you were weird.

It’s cool. You’re cool. You could handle this. You were a Gotham native after all. Totally cool. You have to force yourself not to gag on your own fear. Totally, absolutely, terrifically cool.

A few deep, calming breaths later, and you’re cracking the door of the lavatory open just an inch. You peer through the crevice, taking another deep breath when you don’t see anyone in the hallway. You push the door open a bit wider, peek your head around it to look the other way. Still empty. Another deep breath, you feel your chest rise and fall, and then you take the first step out onto the wooden floors. You wince at the slight noise the bare sole of your foot makes and hurry over to the long Persian rug to snuffle any more sounds.

And then you’re standing in the middle of the hallway in your ballgown, head swivelling back and forth as you try and catch any minuscule sounds, shoulders bunched up to your ears.

The first thing you need to check is the exits. Since you are on the third floor, and the banquet was on the first, you can assume that they’re well-guarded, but probably far away from you. Still, this is the Wayne Enterprises Tower, and there wasn’t just the party happening tonight. It was mostly empty as you’d seen but there’d been a few people you’d wandered past. They’d all seemed like late-night office workers, and the female janitor you’d bumped into was the one who had told you where the toilet was.

Was the janitor okay? Was that her scream you’d heard? Concentrate, dumbass. On airplanes, they tell you to put your mask on first before you do it for anyone else. The idea was the same here. Save yourself before you can hope to save anyone else.

That was… that was if you even needed saving. This could all still just be your own paranoia. Someone hit their knee on a ridiculously fancy side table or something. Like that scream wasn’t of pure terror. Like it didn’t sound like someone on death’s door.

Concentrate! Okay, check the stairs first. Don’t take the elevator, because you’re not an idiot. Maybe. Hopefully. Slowly but surely you creep your way back towards the entrance to the third level, where both the elevator and the stairs were. There was a map, too. You hadn’t been able to figure it out earlier, but you had a bit more incentive this time.

You make sure to place your feet carefully, aiming for the carpets and rugs. Even if your drunken steps miss half the time, you’re still mostly quiet. Every time you have to walk across a crossing you spend a minute listening, and then peer around every corner too. You’re not sure if you should be running, or if you really should try one of the windows.

Deep breaths. Keep moving. That’s the best course of action. Don’t get caught, but don’t just hide either.

It’s when you’re almost at the third-floor foyer when you hear something. There’s a crash, the sound of something breaking. No voices, though. Still, you can’t convince your body to move for a full minute. There’s a part of you that wants to go hide in an abandoned cubicle and wait, but there’s another part of you that is very aware of the rates of fires in this city. You keep going, taking a longer route to avoid the source of the crashing.

Another noise. A scream. Laughter. Spine-chilling laughter.

Shit, motherfucker. Why the hell did you get smashed at a fucking Wayne gala? Everybody knew the rogues of this city were totally obsessively in love with Bruce Wayne. Especially your own personal worst nightmare. You don’t dare even think his name, lest you summon the bastard.

Was he in Arkham right now? He should be. Like you should be at home in the Narrows getting a good night’s rest. Like you should be wearing dorky Flash pyjamas, not a dress more expensive than your rent.

He should be. It’s not nearly enough.

You realise, suddenly, that you have to make a choice here. You can walk away, pretend you didn’t hear anything, that you can’t hear anything. A woman’s cries, you think. You could leave her, save yourself. Hideaway and let whatever fate she’s facing befall her. Could you do that? Could you even stomach the idea?

In the end, the universe makes the decision for you.

“And who do we have here? What’s a pretty little thing like you doing wandering around?”

You hear your doom in his slimy voice, even though you didn’t hear him sneak up on you. Shaking, you raise your hands into the air, and slowly turn around. You see your doom in the twisted clown mask’s grin. For a second you think it’s really him, but then you notice his dark brown hair and the tanned skin under the mask. God, god, god. It’s a Joker goon. Your literal worst nightmare, given flesh. Is he here? No, no, no- You swallow down the urge to scream, to run, and do your best to keep thinking like a person and not a prey animal.

You feel like one. You think he knows that. You hope he doesn’t.

“Hey Travis, I found another one!” the man calls out, raising his gun to point at you. He jerks it, moving forward, and you turn back around obediently. The gun presses against the back of your head, and you move forward, obediently.

“Shithead, don’t say my name out loud!” another voice replies. You get to see its owner when you come around the corner and find the foyer.

There are five other people here, all tied up. Four seem to be exhausted office worker bees, who just stayed too late on the wrong day, and the last is the janitor who helped you. The kind lady gives you terrified eyes, but she’s the only one not crying among the hostages.

“Man, you worry too much. Like there aren’t hundreds of Travis’s in the city.”

“Just shut up, my god! If we leak info and it gets traced back to us, he’s docking our pay.”

Who’s he? Who’s fucking he?! He can’t be here, right? He fucking can’t be. You can’t, you can’t. God, you're going to vomit right here and now.

“Whatever. Anyway, this is the last person on this floor.”

“Check the feed again, dickhead,” the second one commands, obviously the leader between the two.

The one who caught you groans, and then you hear the sound of fabric shuffling. Is he looking at his phone? You wish you could turn around and look. You don’t dare with the barrel against you.

Your teeth dig into the side of your mouth. So did they have the security feeds? That meant you were doomed from the start. The only other option would’ve been to actually jump out one of the windows. They would’ve probably found you anyway. Hunted you down to meet their quota.

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. This is looking like a big deal. And everybody knew Joker never left out on his big deal jobs, he enjoyed them too much. He’s probably downstairs demanding the Batman come meet him and have tea or something. Shit.

All of a sudden these goons seem like the much better end of the deal.

“Checked, checked, double-checked, triple-checked… There’s nobody else here,” the man behind you grumbles, and the one in front of you sighs.

“Alright, alright. Bring her over, I’ll tie her up, and then we can blow this joint,” the man says, and you really, really hope he’s not being serious about blowing this place. You’d had enough of explosions, thank you very much. Especially ones organised by the Joker.

The gun digs harshly into your skull, “Well, go on.”

Swallow, swallow down your fear. Don’t let it stop you. You walk forward to the other man, arms in the air shaking. When you’re in reaching distance, the second goon roughly grabs you and shoves you to your knees. He pushes your hands in front of you, not bothering to tie them behind you. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

The rope cuts into your skin. It’s going to leave marks, and bruises. The man finishes tying the knot and then pulls you back to your feet. Then he shoves you towards the elevator and turns to start picking up the other hostages. You turn so your back is toward the wall, not willing to have your eyes off the monsters for even a second.

It’s when he’s pushing one of the office workers towards you, that the second man speaks again.

“Hey, the boss said we had to kill one of ‘em.”

What? What did he say?

“Oh yeah, oops.”

The gunshot goes off before you can process the words. Before you can process the gunshot, the janitor’s body is crumpling to the floor. Before you can process her fall, blood is starting to seep from the wound in her chest. Before you can process any of that, the man behind you laughs.

He laughs. He laughs and laughs and laughs.

The janitor lies on the floor, blood seeping into her hair and uniform. You squeeze your eyes tight, tears slipping over the lids. You refuse to look at the wound. At the gaping hole in her chest. And despite yourself, you know why they shot her, not you. Not any of the workers either.

Because she wasn’t worth the cash.

Yesterday, that would’ve been you on the floor. You were a fake wearing a fancy dress, who didn’t belong here at all. Still, they didn’t know that. You didn’t think anybody knew that. Not anyone but you, who had woken up in a world a little to the left.

“I’ll be down in a minute, Trav. I wanna play with this one for a bit,” the shooter says, and all of a sudden you’re thrown back into your body, into your frail mortality. You’re cold, your spine gives a shiver, and your horrified eyes find the wretched clown mask.

Like you said, your doom. You wish you weren’t right all the time.

“No way. She’s one of the high-profilers, we need her,” his leader replies, and you’re desperate to stick by his side. You didn’t think a Joker goon would be your saviour, but here you were.

“I’ll give you five K of my split,” he offers, not willing to let go of it. Of you.

The other one pauses, glances at you assessingly. There’s a glint of something in his eyes, something that tells you you’re not making it out of here unscathed. It’s something you recognise, something you even recognise inside yourself.

It’s greed. And it’s going to kill you. You always knew it would, you just didn’t think it’d be like this.

“Make it seven,” he finally announces, the deal for your soul made without any fuss or fanfare.

“You’re such a hardass. Fine, fine, seven it is.”

“Alright, and only thirty minutes, tops. Not a hair on her head, you understand me?” he says over his shoulder, waggling a finger at his coworker.

The group leaves through the elevator. It dings, and you watch in mute, stunned horror as the other hostages refuse to meet your gaze. As they abandon you to save their own asses. You couldn’t really blame them, as much as you wanted to. You were ready to do the same earlier.

“I think not even a hair is pushing it, right?” the creep says, finger reaching out for said hair. You jerk back out of his reach, an instinctual flinch. He grins, and lets his hand fall back to his side. You take a shaky step backward.

You’re trembling with fear. With the need to get away from this terror, this situation.

He gestures with his gun, pointing back in the direction of the branching hallways.

“Well, go on. Run.”

And God help you, you do.

Spinning on your heel, you flee to the echoing sound of his laughter. Your feet fall rhythmically against the marble floors, the sound of your bare soles far too loud. You can’t even do anything about it. There’s no option for stealth here, only the sort of hunt you’d expect to find in the woods.

Not here in civilised mankind’s territory. But this was Gotham, and the monsters often looked human.

You dart into a large room filled with tiny square cubicles. A call centre or something, a maze of low walls that are too small to hide behind. You keep going, teeth-gritting when his laughter cuts off. He’s taking this seriously, hunting you down. You think he’s done this before. ‘Played’ with people.

You can’t worry about those other poor victims, lest you become his next one.

Another crash, this time to your left. Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, but when you look there’s only a broken lamp on the floor. You have to swallow down the urge to cry. He is. He’s playing with you. He’s having fun with it.

You keep running, passing by halls and offices and don’t stop running till you can’t. Out of breath. You’re out of breath. You bend over, the stitch in your side too much for you to stand. Why are you out of breath? You can run more than this. You often run more than this when you’re late for your morning train.

What’s going on? What’s happening to you?

A bang, behind you. You spin around. Don’t see anything.

He’s nearby. Right under your nose. You need to keep running, you have to. Through your panting you hear his laughter again, and that’s enough fear to get you moving again. Maybe you were in Arkham, arms strapped to your side and screams wailing down the halls.

You didn’t believe it. No, not in this moment. Not right now, as you run for your life. If you lived through this, you’d probably go back to thinking it was all a dream or a delusion.

But with that monster nearby, there’s nothing this could be but real. With sweat dripping down your neck, smearing your makeup. With the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, in your ears. With the blind, all-consuming panic you’re in.

He’s real. And he’s coming for you.

You lift your tied hands and press them to your lips, muffling the sound of your harsh breathing and soft sobs. Heart beating out of your ribcage, you push your body even as it screams for you to stop. You’re flagging. Vision’s swimming, and you can feel bile creeping up your throat. You can’t keep doing this. You need to keep doing this.

For a moment, you stop to catch your breath. And he catches you too.

You scream, tugging at the rough grip on him. He swings you around into a wall, and again, you cry out. Side throbbing with pain, singing with it. Still, you don’t stop. Can’t stop. Not safe, not safe, not safe. You push back against him, and he pushes back against you. Your drunken state is no match, and you tumble down onto the carpet. When he laughs, you look up at him, and he down at you.

The goon’s plastic mask merges with the Joker’s mutilated face, until you can’t tell the difference.

You aren’t the type to fight back. It’s just not instinctual to you. But when you hear his belt buckle clack, your foot kicks out before you can even think. You hit him squarely in the stomach, knocking him backward, and then you scramble away from underneath him.

“You bitch!”

He grabs you by the nape of your neck, yanking you backwards. You choke, hands grasping desperately at the grip around your throat, but he offers no relent. You’ve pissed him off. That doesn’t mean you can stop, can give up. You can’t stop fighting. Can’t stop struggling. Can’t stop, can’t stop, can’t stop-

The gun clicks. You freeze.

“Yeah, figured you’d be more obedient if I did that. Now, get up,” his voice is breathy, from the high of the chase or the hit you delivered, you’re not sure.

You hope it’s the latter. You hope this fucker drops and dies, right on the spot. You’re not that lucky, though.

Ah, your hands are hurting again. Not just the one, but both. Maybe you touched something. An allergic reaction of some sort. It shouldn’t be distracting you, it shouldn’t even be noticeable in the situation you’re in but god. The itchy heat is nearly as unbearable as the evil cretin in front of you.

“You think you’re gonna get away with that? I’m so fucking sick and tired of you whores who think you matter anything. You don’t, and I’m going to help you realise that,” he rants. His eyes are red through the tiny slits in the mask. Angry, dangerous, on the edge.

“Please, look I’m sorry,” you stutter out, stinging hands in the air. You want to run, but you think he’ll shoot if you do.

“You’re lucky I don’t fuck corpses.”

No, that doesn’t sound very lucky at all, actually. No, this seems like maybe it might turn out to be the new worst moment of your life. You don’t think it can get much worse than this, than the next moments that will pass. And it’s too much. It’s too, too much. Your palms are itchy and there’s a gun pointed between your eyes and the goon’s licking his lips and oh my god you’re going to die from an allergy before the bullet and-

And you just want it all to stop. You want it so desperately. You want the man in front of you to disappear, to never exist again, to go right down to hell where he belongs. You just want him gone.

Your hands stop hurting. The burning heat disappears. It’s quiet again. You can’t hear him laughing, the awful slick sound of him licking his lips. You can’t feel the cool iron on your forehead, the heat from his body so close. You can’t smell his sweaty stench. Your eyes open.

…There’s no gun. There’s no man.

You crumple to the ground with a relieved sob. Fisted hands lift to your eyes, as big blubbery tears stream down your face. Your shoulders shake with your cries. Your heart is screaming in your chest, trying to beat out of it. He’s gone, somehow. You’re alive, somehow. You’re not dead with a bullet in your brain, somehow. Somehow, somehow, somehow.

An impossibility. It’s an impossibility, and you’re so goddamn grateful for it.

As always, you don’t give yourself long to cry. Even as your tears still fall, even as you lick them off your mouth, tasting salt and lipstick and fear, you push to your feet shakily. You almost fall over with your hands still tied, shouldering the wall next to you for balance. You don’t have time to cry. No time to process what just happened. You need to get to safety.

You creep back into the main area, heart pounding in your ears, breath hiccuping. You don’t know how long it takes for you to get there. Ten minutes, thirty, maybe even an hour. When you try the staircase door, it doesn’t open. You yank on the handle, grab a chair and try and smash it in, but it stands strong. Fuck. You try the elevator as a last-ditch effort, but the buttons don’t respond.

You press your overheated forehead to the cool metal. Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

You turn around and storm back into the cubicle space, find one at the edge of the room with a clear view of all the doors, and tuck yourself under the desk. Pulling your knees to your chest, you resist the urge to rock yourself like a baby.

And you sit there, and you watch, and you wait. It doesn’t matter how many hours pass, you are not moving from this spot. It doesn’t matter how heavy your lids feel, how the adrenaline leaving your body has you sagging.

You’re not going to sleep. It’s not safe, and you’re not dying today. You’re simply not.\

You’re not allowed to.

A hand touches your shoulder, and you snap awake. Your fist slings out at the would-be attacker, but they dodge it smoothly. When you rear up for another, they move back, hands in the air in a show of surrender. Panting, you don’t lower the fist, your vision swimming.

It’s the Joker. But the Joker wouldn’t back up, right? And the Joker isn’t red, he’s green and purple.

It takes a while for the Joker’s pale, laughing face to disappear. But when you blink and he’s gone, you find someone else underneath. A red mask, a man you think you recognise from TV. A vigilante. God, you hated the vigilantes in Gotham.

Not more than the Joker. Not more than him.

The man stays a safe distance away, gloved hands firmly in the air. He’s tall, really tall. Broad-shouldered, scary. But he’s a vigilante, right?

Is he here to save you? Someone should've by now. The bastard's late then.

He says your name, you think. You can’t hear him properly. Wait no, it’s a nickname, one you haven’t heard in years. You could barely remember your mother calling you that as she tucked you in, as she told you she loved you over the phone, as she disappeared from the world entirely.

You hadn’t let anyone call you that since.

How does he know that name? How does this bastard know your name?

“-hurt? Hey, hey. Listen to me, are you hurt anywhere?” his voice is deep and warbled through the red metal mask, his eyes peering down at you through his domino. You just stare at him, eyes wide, barely breathing.

You need to know how he knows. Unconsciously, your hand reaches up to him, and after a moment, he takes it in his own firm grip. It’s awkward, as you’re still sitting half under the desk and he’s trying to stay as far away from you as possible. Still, his hand is warm through the leather, grounding, keeping you from drifting off into panic and fear. Into your worst nightmares come to life.

Because this was real. It didn’t matter that it was impossible, it was real. You simply couldn’t deny it any longer, this was all real.

You stare at this stranger’s gloved hand like it holds the answers to the universe. It might, in the end. It really just might. It wasn’t like the universe was making much sense at the moment.

“She seems fine. Uninjured, if a bit shocked. Doesn’t seem to have a concussion. Hardly responding anyway,” Red Hood speaks, but not to you. An earbud, you think. Superheroes used wiretaps and things like that all the time, right?

If you could even consider Red Hood a superhero. Everybody knew he had his own gang. Of course, even as your very life is being saved, it’s by a morally grey hero who runs around with crowbars and guns. Ah, you’re crying again.

You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t let yourself cry anymore. And you’d managed it, mostly. You think you’ll give yourself a pass for today, just a little one. You hold this stranger’s hand, and you cry.

You just cry. You cry, and you hold the hand of some stranger you hate, because you have to.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

#Series:WWW #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #damian wayne x reader #robin x reader

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cherubfae · 7 months

Note

Hello! I love your writing, it's so cute! Here's an Idea bouncing around in my head: Reader is a shy and easily flustered individual who's developed a crush on Alastor. However they try to keep their distance as they know he's Aro/Ace and doesn't want to overstep boundaries. They go to Lucifer a (somewhat) expert on romance and feelings of longing to vent, also developing a crush on Lucifer- (Reader is a hopeless romantic lol)

Anyway, hope you have a nice day and remember to drink water!

|| The Price of Love || Alastor x Reader x Lucifer

tags: gn!sinner!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, love triangle, miscommunication, blood/injuries, mild nudity mention, divorced!Luci, I had to make it a bit comical, I made this too angsty for my own liking now I'm sad 😭, protective bois

This is a one shot. I won't be writing a part two. Thank you! :)

A dreamy sigh echoes from your lips, swirling down the empty hallway. You're sitting on your bed with your knees pulled to your chest with a clawed hand over your heart. Sometimes you miss the thrum of your heartbeat against your fingers. With all of the people occupying Hell, you didn't expect to feel quite this lonely.

You stare down at the pocket watch in your hands. Such a tiny device cost quite a fortune, but it was a true antique having been manufactured in the 1920s. Your intention was to give it to Alastor. Yet, you never did.

Despite everything in your being wanting you to give him the simple gift, a token of your love and your friendship, you just couldn't. You were already internally setting yourself up for a failure that may not even come. You weren't sure Alastor would ever be into someone, let alone you. So, allowing these thoughts to fester you withdrew yourself from him. Forcing smiles when around him and the others, faking laughter; all of which Alastor could see right through. Every time he tried to seek you out, to confront you, you were already engaged with someone else or another task for the hotel.

You were actively allowing your depression to swallow you whole all the whole not realizing that if you had only asked, Alastor's feelings are the same as yours. He just didn't know how to approach you and Rosie thought it best to let you come to him; yet you never did. Even Alastor was finding it a bit hard to keep that smile on his face. Why won't you just approach him? He...He can't do it. Please.

A dreary day in Hell with violent lightning and thunderclouds and acidic rain brought you into the company of Lucifer Morningstar himself. He could smell your sadness from miles away and like clockwork, he instantly pulls you under his wings.

"Now then, sweetling, what brings you to see the Big Boss Man Himself?" Lucifer grins, crossing his leg over his knee nursing an apple martini with an apple slice hanging off the sugar-dusted edge. He serves you whatever drink you may like, alcoholic or non-alcoholic.

"I'm in love with Alastor and I don't know what to do! I'm scared to get too close to him because I'm not even sure he's into me like that and I don't want to get hurt!" You sob, the words come pooling out of your mouth like a waterfall and so do the tears.

Lucifer visibly bristles at the mention of his rival, almost choking on his drink. With a snap of his fingers, his martini glass vanishes with a poof! His full attention now on you. Gently, he takes your hand in his gloved one.

Softly, he begins. "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real. It's not the end of the world, not by a long shot. Everyone who we meet and who we love crosses our paths for a reason. To teach us something, either for a short chapter or they'll be lifelong companions. Even in the afterlife, there are still people worth risking the hurt for." Smiling wobbly, Lucifer embraces you close. "Take a few deep breaths. If this is truly how you feel, talk to him about it. We may be magic down here in Hell but not all of us are mind-readers, darlin'."

For the first time in a long while, you smile too. Embracing him again with a laugh.

Standing to leave, you turn to your friend. "May I see you again?"

Lucifer let out a tiny gasp, a slight pink hue coating his cheeks. "I'd like that a lot!" He jumps up. "I can show you how to paint rubber ducks!"

When you finally return from your outing, you're in a much more visibly happy mood. With eyebrows raised, Alastor watches from the shadows as you whistle a happy little tune and make your way up the stairs and veer to the left towards your bedroom. A familiar scent clings to your own, one that makes his lips curl back in a vicious snarl. Lucifer.

"Now darling, I think it's time that we have a talk--" Alastor materializes from the shadows, fully manifesting into your bedroom. You shriek in surprise.

Immediately, you snap. "Alastor, what the fuck! OUT."

Alastor, who has been turned away from you, spins to face you aghast that you'd speak to him in such a manner as you never have before, only to quickly cover his eyes. You were standing in the privacy of your bedroom, almost entirely naked except for those flimsy bottoms you called your underwear. Alastor swallows thickly at the sight of your bare skin, even when you wrap your blanket around your body. He feels lightheaded.

"My apologies, dearest. Ta-ta!" In a plume of smoke, Alastor fades out of the room. By the time he returns to his radio tower, he's gasping with his palm covering his face which was now nearly as red as his hair. He's ashamed he hadn't shown more decorum and instead witnessed you in such a state. Even when angry with him, you had never looked more alluring.

Lucifer swung by the hotel rather unexpectedly, surprising Charlie with a new plant for her bedroom and crushing Maggie into a huge hug! The place was really coming along, he had to admit. There was a more inviting atmosphere to the hotel now since it was rebuilt. It almost felt cozy.

"Dad, what brings you by?" Charlie smiles, carefully handing the plant over to Vaggie.

Lucifer smiles. "I'm here to pick up a friend for a little coffee date and I figured I'd say hi to my favorite daughter and my favorite soon-to-be daughter-in-law!" He coos, squishing Charlie's cheeks between his gloved hands.

On queue, you're walking down the stairs into the foyer. "Lucifer!" You beam, a large smile crossing your cheeks. His tummy flutters at the sight. The outfit you had on was darling, suiting you to a T.

A crackle of static explodes into the front lobby, the Radio Demon taking form between you and the Morningstars. Alastor's eyes immediately narrowing at the unwelcomed guest, at least in his mind.

Laughing nervously, Charlie wedges herself between her father and friend. The air rippled with electricity as the two stared the other down.

"Okay, you two, calm down. Let's not start anything, ok?" She glances at Vaggie for help who simply shrugs her shoulders; setting Charlie's new plant baby aside. Approaching slowly you stand by Lucifer's side. Placing a hand on the King's shoulder, Alastor nearly explodes with radio feedback. An eerie green glow consuming his form.

Static voice dripping with malice spits out, "You're going out with him." It wasn't a question.

Casting a look over your shoulder, you nod at Alastor. "We're going out for coffee."

The Radio Demon is practically seething with venomous rage--not at you, but at the puny little shortstack of a King who thinks he can meddle with those in his life. "You don't deserve their attention, Morningstar."

Lucifer balks. "You had your chance, pal! You snooze, you lose." Alastor's expression turns to one of confusion.

"What do you mean?" The radio filter is gone from his voice.

Snarling, Lucifer glowers at him. "They were in love with you! And now I'm here to pick up the pieces-- oh, fuck, you didn't tell him did you, sweetling?" His gaze is gentle as he regards you. You're begging for the ground to swallow you up.

Fighting back tears, you fidget on the spot. You're looking everywhere but at the two men who have held your heart captive. There was the love you held for Alastor, pure and genuine. How you got together like pieces of a puzzle. And then there was your love for Lucifer, intimate and loving. He was able to teach a part of you that you'd long forgotten. He helped you smile again.

Alastor shoves Lucifer out of the way, his clawed hands cupping your face. He wipes away those tiny tears with a gentleness no one in the hotel had seen. "Je t'aime tellement, mon cour."

Lucifer, now in his Full Demon form, shoves Alastor aside and grasps your arm. You let out a cry of pain, making the two males jump. With the appearance of his full form his claws had accidentally sunk too deep into your skin. Red leaked from the four deep gashes slashed across your skin, staining the sleeve of your lovely shirt. Your pretty eyes pooling with tears.

Like a true beast, Alastor explodes into his demonic form, arms outstretched to shield you behind him. Lucifer can only fixate on the blood dripping down your arm. Vaggie and Charlie are tugging you away while Husk prepares the First-Aid kit.

Lucifer is only able to stare at the tiny pool of blood you had left behind and the pain in his eyes. And then there was Alastor, ever the gentleman, always the one fighting for your honor, looking damn well ready to devour the entire fucking Earth for you.

And Lucifer felt he deserved whatever he had coming to him. His own words echo in his head: "Getting hurt is unfortunately part of the risk of being in love. It lets you know what you feel is or was real."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #alastor x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #cherubfae 2024

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howtofightwrite · 8 months

Note

If you’ve already answered this, I’m sorry. How much of a liability is long hair in a fight? I mean it probably depends on the skill of the fighters and the tendency to grab each other’s hair as well. Is long hair still dangerous if it’s tied back?

Not that much more of a liability than having long hair in any athletic or otherwise hazardous situation. The biggest risk is the hair getting in your face (which yeah, keeping your hair bound will reduce the risks.)

The irony is, the risk of an experienced fighter grabbing your hair is probably lower than the risk of them grabbing you some other way, simply because hair offers no joint control. If someone wants control over your head, they're better off grabbing your head directly, rather than trying to tug on your hair in the middle of a fight. Also, if someone is going after your head, they have to get past your defense. That's not something that's likely to happen unless the fight is going very poorly for you.

The liability with long hair isn't in the fight itself (at least not when anyone knows what they're doing), it's in the ambush. It's when the fight begins with them getting a hold of your hair. Especially from behind. As I mentioned, it's not as good as getting a solid grip on the target's skull, but, for someone who doesn't know what they're doing, it is an easy way to grab onto someone.

Similarly, if the victim doesn't know what they're doing, they may not understand how little control their attacker has over them, and that the only leverage their attacker has (from grabbing their hair) is the ability to inflict a bit of pain in the scalp.

There's a logistical problem with grabbing someone's hair. As mentioned, it doesn't really control them, so you're giving up one arm to mildly inconvenience them. You now only have one arm which you can use to attack or defend yourself. They have two arms that they can use to attack or defend themselves. Meaning, they have one hand to deal with your remaining arm, and another hand free for unrestricted strikes to your face. This is not a good position to be in.

Outside of hand to hand, the biggest danger is simply getting hair in your face. Which you would have had to deal with on a daily basis anyway. In that case, yes, binding it will take that out of the equation entirely.

So, how much of a liability? On its own not much. There are other potential situations where it could cause catastrophic problems, like if the hair gets caught in heavy machinery, or something similar. In that respect it's more of a liability in an industrial setting. It still means keeping your hair short, if you're expecting to fight, is a good idea, but it's not the end of the world. If you do have long hair, keeping it tied back (ideally in a bun), means it's very unlikely to be a problem at all. The end result is that while it's not a major problem, it is one that can be easily dealt with ahead of time, and probably should be, because while the risks are fairly limited, there's no reason to leave them unaddressed.

-Starke

This blog is supported through Patreon. Patrons get access to new posts three days early, and direct access to us through Discord. If you’re already a Patron, thank you. If you’d like to support us, please consider becoming a Patron.

#writing reference #writing advice #writing tips #how to fight write #starke answers

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sweetsilver-if · 3 months

Text

To Taste Sweet Silver

Play here [Updated 8/10/24]

Word count (w/code): 16.9k

[F.A.Q] [Spotify][Pinterest]

"The silver of the fruit tastes sweeter than the iron of the blood." There is a City in the center of the remaining world, said to house and protect the last gift from the Old Gods before they vanished. Your mother had told you stories of it as a child, before she died. No one is allowed to enter the City of Forgotten Silver without extensive documentation and proof they are worthy. Not everyone is allowed to grace divinity. There is no reason for you, a nobody, to be here but you've managed to worm your way in. You know the consequences if you get caught, and you know to keep your head down as often as you can. The risk to be here is great, for the City is desperate to protect what remains of the past. Everyone who has dared to take the Old God's last gift, a fruit with silver skin, has had their execution made a spectacle. For this fruit is the key to reviving the world to what it used to be. Or so it is believed. It's why those in power will do anything to protect it. You know this, but you have a plan to attempt its theft anyway. For without it, how else will you finally bring this world to its end?

To Taste Sweet Silver is an 18+ Gaslamp Fantasy IF about putting a crumbling world to rest.

✽ Play as a fully customizable MC: gender, sexuality, personality, skills, etc.

✽ Decide how you're going to survive in the City; will you fake an identity and do earnest work, rely on thievery, or freeload off anyone willing to take pity on you

✽ Master magic, hone your physical skills, or expand your worldly knowledge

✽ Discover why the Old Gods abandoned the world in the first place, and learn about the New Gods that have taken their place

✽ Decide your reasons for wanting to end the world. Will you really go through with it?

Caspian Sinclair

The City Mage [M]:

A man who's more important then he lets on. The only reason you know he's a Mage is because you sense it on him. Despite his kind but stoic nature, you hesitate to approach him because if he finds out who you are, he will kill you. If only he wasn't also the holder of key information you need. He never seems opposed to answering your questions or pointing you in the right direction, making him your main source of information about the City of Lost Silver. However, the badge he wears reminds you to still your tongue, and watch your questions.

Whisper

The Jester [NB]:

Xer part of a night show, the sort outlawed in the City due to being propaganda about the Old Gods' departure. When xer not part of the show, xe have a traveling food cart xe only run at night. Although it's best not to draw attention to yourself and get involved with someone like xem, you can't help but wonder what's hiding under the mask. Especially with xer strange charm, odd sense of humor, and ability to show up at the worst of times for you.

Vivienne Silver

The Empress [F/trans]:

The youngest Empress ever crowned, and only due to the tragic assassination of her family. She's an elusive figure, never seen in public, but worshiped all the same. The people whisper her suffering is the reason why the City has seen such prosper in recent years, mythologizing her as a martyr. As an outsider, you have no strong opinion of her, until strange circumstances bring you together. She's exhausted and weary and as willing to bite as she is to be gentle.

Mourning

The New God [M/F/NB]:

Your benefactor and the sole reason you managed to get into the City. They found you in the outskirts one day and handed you a pass, telling you they can help you get what you want. You haven't seen them since. They're elusive and strange, and while they claim they're a God, you're not sure they're something quite so holy.

CW: Gore, violence, torture, cannibalism, death, religious trauma, explicit sexual themes, mtc

Note: This is a side project and won't be updated frequently. My main project is Burning Academia!

#interactive fiction #interactive novel #twine if #if wip #if game #cyoa #cyoa game #twine game

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samandcolbyownme · 9 months

Text

Summary: y/n is partnered with popular party boy, Sam, for a project and she hates it. Not a request

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of alcohol, slight angst, slight hatred towards each other, mainly reader towards Sam, mean comments, flirting, unprotected sex, biting, scratching, general filth

Word Count: 10.4k | not edited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

"I've been thinking about it.." your professor starts out, "..and instead of doing an actual test for the final, I'm going to have you guys do a project. On any historical event of your choosing."

"If we get to have partners, you're mine." Your friend nudges you. You look at her with a nod, "Oh of course."

"You will have a partner.." your professor continues and you look at y/f/n with a wide smile. But, that quickly gets ripped away, "But I will be assigning you your partners."

"Of fucking course." Y/f/n grumbles and you sigh, "Maybe he knows how well we work together. Maybe he'll assign us together."

She sighs, "I doubt that."

You knew she was right. You knew you'd probably get stuck with someone who would have you doing all the work anyway. Someone who has excuse after excuse as to why they can't get together and work on it.

Your leg bounced up and down as you wait for you and your friend's name to be called. Finally, towards the end, "Y/n y/l/n. You'll be partnered up with Sam Golbach."

You closed your eyes, completely shutting everything out as you sat in your anger, "Really?" You look at your friend, "Sam's hot. You just hate him because he's popular or whatever. I don't know. Some stupid reason that you just need to get over. You're lucky you didn't get stuck with Nevin."

"Is that who-"

"Yep."

You pout, "I'm sorry." You knew she was mad, but not at you. She was just taking it out on you, which isn't something new. But she was right, you did kinda hate Sam, but it wasn't stupid, well to you at least.

She rolls her eyes, "Uh huh." She stands up, grabbing her bag, "Gotta go meet my project partner." You sigh, "Yeah, gotta go find mi-"

"Hi." Sam is standing there with a toothy grin. You wanted to smack it off of him, "Yeah, hey." You roll your eyes as you grab your bag off the chair next to you.

"Hey, no need to be so hostile." Sam laughs and you stay silent, turning away from him. You start to walk away and he's right on your tail, saying hi to every girl that, god forbid gawks at him.

"Anything to fulfill your ego, right?" You mumble to yourself as you stare at the door ahead.

Sam jogs up next to you, "You say something?"

"Even if I did would it matter?" You pull your book closer to your chest and Sam laughs, "I mean, yeah. Kind of."

"Why?" You stop and look at him and he shrugs while shaking his head, "Because.. we're.. partners?"

You pause for a moment, "Yeah. Still wish that wasn't real."

"Why are you so negative about me? Is it because I haven't given you any attention?" He laughs and you gag, "no. I'm glad you haven't. And if we weren't partners, I would still be avoiding you."

"Avoiding me?" He furrows his brows and walks with you, "Am I that bad?"

You snort, "I mean, I just don't want to risk catching anything you may have gotten from the streets here at Silverston."

Before he can say anything else, you cut him off, "You don't need to explain yourself to me because I promise you.." you turn to look at him, "I'm not even going to risk it."

Sam's eyes move over your face as he pushes the door open, "Uh huh." He motions, "After you."

You roll your eyes walking out of the building, "So I figured we could just go to the coffee shop and start working on this final."

Sam sucks air between his teeth, "Actually.."

"I'm going to be doing all of this?" You sigh, "Good thing I already planned on it." You go to walk away but he stops you, "Actually, I have a date, but if you wanted to I can come over after."

You laugh, "No. thanks. I don't need you infesting my dorm with whatever you'll freshly be infected by whatever falls into your trap this time."

"How do I know you don't have anything? Sounds like you're projecting.. or something." Sam smirks and you roll your eyes, "While I am impressed you know what projecting in that sense means, I can actually show you my medical record."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He winks and you fight back laughter, "In your dreams, Golbach. I'll text you when I figure out what I want to do the project on."

You turn and as you're walking away, Sam yells out to you, "You don't even have my number."

"I'm sure I can walk to the street corner and get it." You yell back and walk away laughing.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You lean back from your laptop, cracking your knuckles as your eyes scan over the page of notes that you took.

Your phone chimes, you don't think anything of it.

It chimes again. Still nothing.

Finally on the third, you sigh, "I'm fucking busy." You mumble as you pick up your phone. You laugh as you read over the texts from an unknown number.

I guess you didn't walk to the street corner to get my number.

Did you find an idea yet?

Date went awful. Text me your dorm info.

"Fucking. Sam." You clench your jaw as you think of something to say, but instead you don't. You just set your phone back down and decided that you'll tell him you fell asleep or something.

As you go back to taking notes, there's a knock on your door. You thought that maybe your roommate forgot her key again, so you get up, "Did you forget your key again, Lauren?"

You open the door, smile instantly vanishing as your eyes meet those blue ones, "What are you doing here?"

"We have a project to work on, remember?" Sam pushes the door open and walks in. You look around to make sure no one seen him walk in and you turn, "Yeah no shit, but I mean.. here. In my room."

"You weren't answering my texts. My date went bad, and-"

You cut him off, "Then you told me to text you my dorm info... so what I'm getting is that you still can't take a hint?"

He laughs and swings his backpack off his shoulder, "yeah, yeah. Let's just get start- oh. Shit." He looks from your progress then back at you, "You're really doing this thing aren't you."

"I need to pass Sam. With or without you." You walk back over to the couch, sitting down to pull your laptop on your lap.

"Oh, so you did read my texts." Sam sits down and you laugh, "Where have you been? We were already over this."

"Well fill me in. What did you pick?" He leans over to look at your screen, and you stay quiet as you take in how good he actually smells, but quickly snap out of it. You shake your head slightly as you clear your throat, "I picked the Battle of New Orleans."

"That's a good one. I was thinking that one, too." Sam nods and leans back. You raise your eyebrows, "Really?"

He goes into shaking his head, "No. not at all."

"Figures. You were only thinking about getting your dick wet." You mumble and focus back on the computer.

Sam laughs, "Think what you want, but with who showed up on that date, you wouldn't be surprised that I ditched."

"Who was it?"

He raises his eyebrows, "Do you really want to know or are you just nosey?"

You shrug and smirk, "Both."

He laughs, "Alright, well I had a date set with Candice, but her sister showed up instead."

You raise your brows again, "Well.. that's not really fair. Setting her sister up for failure like that."

"Yeah, I don't know." Sam shakes his head, "Her sister, isn't my type so."

"Of course you have a type." You roll your eyes and he tilts his head, "You have a type, too, y/n. We all do." You look up at him, "Oh yeah? What my type then?"

He smirks, "Tall. Handsome. Blue eyes. Dark hair."

"Is that why you dyed your hair?" Your eyes flick up to his messy brown hair, "I knew something was off about you."

"Ouch. That hurt." He lays a hand on his chest, "I'm not your type?"

"Not at all." You go back to looking at your computer and reach out to toss a notebook at him, "That's what I have down so far. I'm thinking we can just do a slideshow."

He grabs it, eyes scanning over as he nods, "What can I do?"

"Are you actually going to take this seriously?" You look up at him and he nods, "Yes."

"Okay. Good. So what you can do first, is get out of my dorm." You stare at him and he smirks, "You're so cute when you're mad."

"Ew. No. Get out." You close your lap top, "I need to go get dinner anyway."

"Let's go together. We can work on this while we eat."

Although the offer did sound tempting, you really didn't want to be seen with him, labeled as another notch in his belt, "I'd rather stick needles in my eyes and slam my head into the floor."

"You really don't like me do you?" Sam smirks and stares at you and you shake your head, "Not really, no."

"What did I ever do to you, huh? Seriously."

He knew you couldn't answer because there wasn't anything he personally did to you. It was more or less how and who he is as a person.

"You want an honest answer?" You sit up more and cross your legs as you look at him.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." Sam shrugs and you sigh as you lean forward to set your laptop on the small table in front of you, "You're a fuck boy, first of all. Second of all, I really don't want to be seen with you because I'm not going to be labeled a whore who's seen with the guy who's been in everyone on campus."

"I haven't been in everyone on campus." He mocks you, "I know that for a fact because I haven't ever been in you."

His words make your cheeks heat up, "Get out."

"Im joking. Im joking. I'm sorry." He laughs, "I had to. I had to, y/n.Now come on." He readjusts his sitting position and motions to the notes, "what can I do, other than get out?"

You sigh, "Why do you have to be my partner?" You grumble as you open up a new note book. Sam sighs, "Yeah I ask myself that, too."

"What's that suppose to mean?" You look over at him and he looks at you a few seconds, "Oh! I thought we were just saying things that we didn't really mean or weren't true or something like that." He snickers, "If it means anything, I'm glad you're my partner."

You snort, "Why? Because I'm smart and I'd do all the work? Or because you think you can get under my skin and torment me into wanting you?"

"I don't have to do anything, y/n." Sam smirks, "But since you said it. I do have to agree with you. You are very smart."

"Yeah, I know." You look down at the notebook that's lying between you and Sam on the couch, "Okay."

You write down a few things for him to research, "Here." You rip out the page and fold it up, "Look these things up and write down what you think is important enough to put on the slides."

He reaches forward and takes the piece of folded up paper, fingers brushing against yours, "I'll get right on that."

You pull your hand away, "Uh huh. I'm sure."

"I'm serious. I bet you I can fill this paper by morning."

"And If you don't?" You raise a brow, intrigued by this deal that's in the motion of being made.

Sam thinks for a moment and snaps, "I'll do the whole project myself.."

"Um, no. I really don't want to fail." You laugh slightly and he sighs, "Fine. You do one half, I'll do the other. And if I actually follow through my half.. I'll..." he looks around and shrugs, "I don't know."

You secretly liked Sam, but you put a barrier between you and him because you were saving yourself from the heartache of being cheated on or something.

"Maybe stick to one girl for once in your life." You look up, shocked that you just said that out loud, "I-um. I didn't.. mean to say that."

He stares at you, "Alright. You're on."

"You're lying." You roll your eyes, "As soon as you leave here. You'll be going home with the first bitch you lay eyes on."

"So come home with me."

"What?!" Your head snaps towards him, "No. no fucking way."

"Why not? That way you'll be able to know if I break our deal, and since we don't have any classes until next week.. you can just stay at my place." Sam shrugs, a smug smirk resting on his lips, "Just a thought."

"I have a math final Wednesday."

"So go to it and come back?" He laughs, "Look. I'm just trying to prove to you that I take deals and bets very seriously."

A twinge of excitement snaps in your stomach and before you can even take a second to think about it, "Fine."

Sam smirks and stands up, "Gather your shit. You're moving in."

"No. No. I'm not moving in. I'm just- actually. I don't even know what I'm doing." You run a hand through your hair and Sam walks over to you, leaning down so his face is inches from yours, "You know exactly what you're doing."

You squint, "Do I?"

He nods, "I think you do."

"What is it that I'm doing, Golbach?" You tilt your head and he smirks, "I think you like me."

"Wrong." You instantly say, "You couldn't be any more wrong."

"Then tell me why you agreed?" He stands back up, placing his hands on his hips, "I'd love to hear it."

You search for a reason, "Well, because. You, Samuel Golbach, are a player who needs to realize women aren't toys that you can pick up and put down whenever you get bored of them."

He chuckles, "That's.. not what I do.. but go on."

"It's exactly what you do, Sam. You pick a new girl, every day. Every other day. Maybe if they're lucky, half a week tops. Then you ghost them. Immediately moving on to the next victim.. I mean.. girl."

He laughs, "Oh I can't wait to prove you wrong."

"I will believe it..." You stand up, "When I see it. But you're on."

You start getting your stuff around, packing your school supplies and any other things you need.

"Don't forget clothes." Sam smirks as you look at him, "Yeah, because I'd forget the most important thing." You roll your eyes as he chuckles as you throw a few shirts and other items of clothing into the bag, "Alright." You turn and sigh, "Ready to see you fail."

"You mean win." Sam says in a smug tone and you sigh, "Yeah, whatever. I'm tired and hungry so let's just go."

As you walk out of the dormitory, you stop, "Wait. Girls aren't allowed in the dorms after this time." Sam laughs, "Who said I have a dorm?"

"You don't stay in a dorm?" You laugh, "Of course not."

"Yeah I have my own apartment right outside of campus." Sam points and you raise your eyebrows, voice quiet, "Of course you do."

"Don't worry. You won't catch anything. I rarely take girls there. I usually just kick their roommates out until I'm done."

"You're disgusting." You roll your eyes, hoisting your bag onto your shoulder with a groan. He looks over, "Want me to carry that for you?"

You shake your head, "Nope. I got it."

The thought of why you were doing this to yourself gets you through the walk to his car, "Why did you have to park so fucking far away?"

He rubs the side of his Tesla, "I don't want anyone scratching my baby."

You laugh slightly, "mhm." You throw your bag into the back and get in the front passenger seat, "This is actually quite nice, Sam. I'm impressed."

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He smiles and you huff, "Way to ruin it."

He laughs and starts to drive. About a half hour of silently wondering what the fuck you're doing later, he pulls into the parking spot in front of a nice looking building.

"Well, mi casa es tu casa." Sam motions from you to the building and you tilt your head, "Wow, someone actually paid attention in Spanish."

"Actually."

"There it is." You shake your head and reach for the handle to get out but Sam stops you, "I actually just know that because my friend Colby says it every time I go over to his place."

"At least you're learning something." You raise your brows and go to get out by Sam stops you again, "hold on. One more thing.."

You turn your head and look at him and he sighs, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm happy you ga- I've actually been wanting to do better and I just.." his eyes scan over your face and you feel drawn to him, "I just wanted to say thank you for taking a chance on me."

You blink, breaking your stare from him before you can do anything you'll regret three seconds after, "I'm doing this to pass my class, Sam. Nothing more."

He nods, "Okay."

You turn to get out once more, and he mumbles a quiet, "Sure."

You close your eyes, fighting to give him the reaction he's fishing for, so you just get out. You shut the door before going back to get your bags.

Sam gets out and waits for you at the front of his car, he chuckles as you glare at him, "You act like you're the only one who hates this."

"Then why did you-" you stop, letting out a groan, "I'm walking back to my dorm." As you turn, you're pulled back by the sudden grip on your bag, "Sam!"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just.." he laughs, "the withdrawal, man."

"The with-" you laugh, "You are unbelievable."

"What? I'm just being honest. Isn't the first step to recovery admitting you have a problem?" He laughs slightly and you shake your head, "That wasn't you admitting you have a problem."

He shrugs and you huff, "Can we just go inside please?" He motions, "I wasn't stopping you in the first place."

"Actually. You wouldn't let me get out of the car." You walk past him and he sighs, "I wanted you to listen to me." He walks ahead, opening the door for you and you nod walking in.

You look around as you follow him up the staircase. Your eyes move to the back of his head, quickly moving away from him as he looks back at you, "Do you want me to ta-"

"No."

"Alright. Don't say I didn't ask."

"I won't be saying anything. Trust me." You roll your eyes, stopping outside of his door as he unlocks it. He pushes it open and you walk in, honestly surprised that it's a nicely kept.

"Well, what do you think?" Sam shuts the door and you nod, "It's nice." Sam smirks, "Thank you."

You walk over to the couch, "So do you want to wor- really."

He looks up from his phone, "Yeah we can work on the project for a little bit."

You stare at him and he looks up, "Don't worry. I'm just texting Colby." You step towards him, "Um. What are you saying exactly."

"Nothing really, just that I have guest over."

"A guest." You roll your eyes, "More like hostage." He laughs and shakes his head, "Here. If you want to read them, go ahead." He tosses you his phone and you catch it, "Sam I do-"

"Read them." He walks over to his fridge, pulling out a beer, "You want one?"

You look up, shaking your head, "No, thanks." You go back to reading his messages between him and Colby and they're surprising not bad at all.

Sam is actually being nice, and not a jerk.

An unsaved number appears at the top and you laugh slightly, turning to him as you read it aloud in a higher pitched tone, "Hey Sam. It's Melina, was wondering if you'd like to take me out on a date yet."

Sam groans, "God she's annoying. Text her back something."

"Me? What do you want me to say." You stare at him and he takes a sip of his drink, "I don't really care, y/n. Just get her off my back."

You chew on the inside of your lip, debating on whether to ruin his life or not, "Okay." Your thumbs tap the screen and Sam walks over, "Whatcha sayin'?"

"Hey Melina, I don't think that's going to work considering I just tested positive for herpes."

His eyes go wide and his hands drop to his sides, "No the fuck you didn't." He leans in, sighing when he sees what you really typed, not going to happen. I'm done dating around. Have a good one.

He lets out a sigh of relief, "She's going to know that that wasn't me." He looks at you and you shrug, "So what? You wanted her off your back right?"

He laughs and nods, "Yeah. I did. Well, looks like you're in charge of texting all the girls that text me."

You roll your eyes, "I have a project to work on."

"Hey, me too. Crazy isn't it?" Sam smiles and you shake your head with a slight laugh, "Yeah. Crazy."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Jesus Christ, Sam." You look up from his phone, "How fucking ma- actually. Don't answer that. I don't need to know."

He looks up from his laptop and shrugs, "Sorry."

You set his phone back down and go back to typing on your computer, "Okay.. so.. I have the date, the location, and who won all on the first three slides. I'll add in.." you look at your notes, "I'll add in the commanders and leaders.."

"I have the casualties and losses along with stuff about the battle itself." He looks up from his notes and you nod, "Sounds good. Maybe we can knock this out in one night and I can go home."

You laugh, but Sam doesn't. He just gives a slight puff of air and nods, "Yeah."

You didn't dwell on it, not really letting yourself because you knew that if you gave in to him in the slightest bit, you'd end up hurt no matter what, so you just went back to typing.

You must have fell asleep while typing because you woke up a few hours later with a blanket on you, and your laptop was on the coffee table.

You slowly sit up, looking around slightly confused because for a split second, you forgot where you were.

You stretch your arms above your head, letting out a yawn before standing up. You turn around and jump when you see Sam sitting at the kitchen table, "shit."

"Oh hey, sorry. I didn't want to wake you and I couldn't sit on my bed anymore. My back was killing me." Sam looks back down at the computer.

You walk to the fridge, grabbing a water. You walk back over standing behind him as you look at his work, "Those look good."

He turns his head slightly to look back at you, "You think?"

You nod, "Yeah. I like how you have the pictures to the sides of the words." You point to the screen, "Wait, how many did you do?"

"I did seven." He leans back in his chair, "is that alright with you?"

You look at him, "That some sort of smartass jab?"

He shrugs, "It wasn't but it can be." He smirks and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, that's fine." You walk back over to the couch, grabbing your bag as you dig for a shirt and shorts, "I'm going to go change."

He nods, eyes focused on his screen. You walk into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror as you slip your shirt off over your head.

You change and exit the bathroom and Sam's eyes are immediately on you, "What? You never seen a girls legs before?" You laugh, "Oh wait."

"Yeah, yeah." He shakes his head with a smirk, "You're lucky you woke up. I forgot about our deal and I was getting ready to see what Felicity was doing."

You felt some sort of jealous twinge, and you honestly wanted to puke. You knew Sam wouldn't last. You just want to stick it out so you could prove him right.

"Nice." You sit back down, back facing him and you hear him get up, "Why are you being so short?"

You shrug, "Maybe because I just woke up. Not everything is about you Sam."

"When did I say it was?" He leans on the back of the couch, "I don't think I did."

You nod, "Right. Right." You turn back to face him slightly, "Good for you, Sam. I'm proud that you didn't text one of your hoes."

"I know that's sarcasm but I'll take it." He taps the back of the couch and walks back over to the table.

You could strangle him, but at the same time, being this close to him, you wanted to just fuck him. Just so you could say you could, but also at the same time, you didn't want to be one of the girls that you ridicule for falling for him.

But you are, you just couldn't admit to it.

"If you want to go back to sleep, you can go sleep in my bed. I'm fine out here." Sam offers and you deny, "I'm fine out here, too."

He chuckles, "Sheets are clean if that's what you're worried about, sweetheart."

"Not what I'm worried about but thanks." You mumble as you type, "Did you put in about- nevermind. Found it."

You can feel him watching you. His eyes are burning holes in the back of your head.

"You okay?" You ask, "I can tell you're staring at me and it's me making me very uncomfortable."

"I beg to differ." Sam shoots back.

You look back at him, "how so?"

He bites his lip and tilts his head, "If you weren't comfortable enough already, I think you would have worn sweats and maybe a sweatshirt.." he takes a deep breath, "Not those.. shorts."

"What's wrong with my shorts?"

He shakes his head, "N-nothing. I didnt- fucking forget it."

You smirk as you turn back around, biting your lip as you know you're now getting under his skin.

Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll just kick you out.

But you found that part of you really didn't want to leave.

"Okay. I think I'm done for the night." Sam closes his laptop and yawns, "I'm going to head to bed since you don't want to take it."

"I'll be fine." You mumble and Sam walks up behind you, "I mean, it is a king size bed so.. feel free to join."

You turn your head, not realizing he was that close. You jerk your head back, "I think I'll survive on the couch."

He shrugs and stands up, "suit yourself." He walks over to the door, turning to face you, "Offer still stands."

"Is this you going through your so called withdrawal? If so, it's incredibly pathetic." You look over at him and he shrugs, "Maybe. Or maybe I just like you. Maybe that was my plan all along."

You roll your eyes, "Mm. Sure it was."

"Oh and here." He tosses you his phone, "In case anyone tries to phone be for a late night booty call."

"Will it happen?"

He nods, "Probably. There's a frat party going on so I'm sure they'll try and summon me." He smirks, "Night."

You nod, "night." You set his phone down on the couch next to you and try to focus on your slides. Sam taking his shirt off catches your attention and you close your eyes, whispering to yourself, "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."

You crack your fingers, sighing as you set your computer on the table, "Fuck." You get up, walking around to behind the couch so you can stretch your back.

Sam's phone dings and you try to ignore it.

It dings again.

And again.

Finally, with a sigh, you bend over the couch, picking it up to read whatever sexual message you'll see this time. They're messages from a Veronica,

Sammm babyyy. Where are you? The party is almost over!

"Yeah.. it's almost four am?" You mumble to yourself as you continue reading.

Sam!!

Sam!! Wake up. I need a ride.. back to your place..

"Desperate much?" You laugh quietly and smirk as your eyes read over the last message.

You're really just going to ignore me?

You bite your lip, glancing over at an already sleeping Sam in his room and back down to the phone. Your heart starts beating faster as your thumbs type the words, Sam's busy, honey. And to be honest, I wouldn't text him again.

You drop his phone down after not giving it another thought with pressing send, honestly slightly embarrassed, "I'll have to remember to delete those." You tell yourself, "Okay." You reach for your laptop, but his phone dings again.

At this point you're too nosey to let it go, and you were kind of having fun with it now. You pick up his phone, smirking when you see it's Veronica.

Who is this?

Seriously.. why are you with Sam? Who are you?

You roll your eyes, reminding yourself that you're to get these girls off his back. He wants to start over and since he worked hard on his half of the project, it's the least you could do, right?

But why?

Your eyes scan over the phone, rereading what you typed out, it doesn't matter who I am. Sam doesn't need you anymore.

You hit send and stare at the phone with the urge to go through it. You shrug, swiping out of the thread and looking at the messages. You're shocked when you see that Sam himself hasn't answered very many messages.

He's left them all on read.

You raise your brows as you take a quiet breath, the hidden folder in his phone will really show who he is. You click on it, surprised he doesn't have any passcode or anything.

You're even more surprised that there's nothing in there. Usually guys like him have nudes of multiple different girls, but Sam doesn't.

You continue to snoop, going through it all and if you didn't know Sam, you'd think that he was actually faithful because there's nothing in his phone.

You shake your head, realizing what you're doing and you swipe out of everything and set his phone down.

You close your lap top, setting it on the table before you lay back down, pretty much forcing yourself to fall back to sleep because the thought of liking Sam only made you mad.

When you wake up, there's a coffee and a bagel sitting next to your computer. You smile slightly and reach out, grabbing the coffee to take a sip.

You grab your phone, seeing you have a text from Sam, Went out for a run. Nothing more I promise.

You laugh slightly, typing back, okay.

You set your phone down, grabbing your computer and opening it. You look over the slide show and shake your head, you were actually surprised Sam is sticking to the deal.

You continue to work on your half, completely in your own little world until you remember you didn't delete those texts you sent back to that girl.

"Oh shit." You freeze, "Fuck." You lay a hand on your forehead, "No, no, no."

You hear the door open and you take a deep breath before turning around, "How was the run?"

Sam nods, "It was good actually. I ran without stopping to talk anyone, which was.. weird actually."

"I'm sure." You laugh slightly, sipping on your coffee. Sam walks over, his grey shirt damp from sweat, "How's the coffee?"

You glance over at him, nodding, "Good. Really good."

"That's good." He chuckles and sighs, "I'm going for a shower." He tosses you his phone down on the couch without another word and walks into the bathroom.

As soon as the door shuts, his phone is in your hands and lo and behold, the messages between you and Victoria are still there, probably very much read by Sam.

You curse yourself mentally, mainly because it makes you sound like you and Sam are together and that isn't what you want.

Then why make it sound like it?

You bite your lip, eyes scanning over the text threads. Your eyes go wide as soon as you see y/f/n, "what the fuck?"

You brace yourself as you go to click on the message thread but you hear the shower turn off and you set his phone down just as the bathroom door opens. You look over and he peaks his head out, "Can you grab me a towel? There's one in the basket in my room."

You nod, getting up and keeping your eyes on his room. You walk in, looking around as you find the basket. You pull the towel from the mound of clothes and walk over to the bathroom, "Here ya go."

He smiles and takes the towel, "Thank you very much."

"Welcome." You walk back over to the couch, pulling your laptop onto your lap and what you dreaded, starts to come to life.

"So.." Sam walks out, towel around his waist and hair dark and messy. You had to fight to keep your eyes off of him, "So." You shift around, clicking on a blank slide.

"I have to thank you."

You look over at him, "For what?"

"Helping me."

"With what?"

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest, "You know what.. do I really need to explain it to you?"

You tilt your head, smirking slightly, "Yeah, I think you may have to."

He places on hand on the back of the couch, leaning his weight onto it as he sighs, "I wanted to thank you for being so willing to help me."

"Help you with..." you motion your hand for him to keep going and he laughs, "Now you're pushing it." He turns and walk into his room, shutting the door behind him.

You glance down at his phone, shaking your head as you avoid looking through his and y/f/n's text thread.

The door opens back up and he walks out in a pair of shorts, "So did you study for that math final?"

You shake your head, "No I wasn't sure if I could leave or not.." you laugh slightly, "..but you leaving this morning told me I could so I'll probably meet y/f/n later or something."

"Mm." He nods as he walks over to get his coffee, "if that falls through, I'm pretty good with math so."

"Oh you'd help me?" You roll your eye, "I somehow.. don't believe that."

He leans against the counter, "Hit me."

You squint your eyes, "forty five times eight."

He smirks, "Three sixty."

You frown, "That was.. too easy." You sigh and shake your head, "Okay. Sixty six times... fourteen."

He pauses for a moment, closes his eyes as he thinks, "nine... twenty... four." He opens them and smiles at you, "I can do this all day."

"I gotta go." You stand up, grabbing your backpack..

"You're going to leave, wearing that?" Sam asks, eyes moving up and down your body. He chuckles, "Whatever suits your fancy, I guess."

You laugh to cover up how flustered you actually were, "I guess I'm just really worried about this test."

"I can help you. Be your study buddy."

You roll your eyes, digging out a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, "You're not my.. study buddy, Sam."

"Could be a whole lot more if you let me."

He said it quietly, so you didn't think you were supposed to hear, or did you?

"Did you say something?" You turn to look at him and he shakes his head, "No?" You nod, "Okay. Well I'm going to go change.." you point to the bathroom and slowly walk into it.

You close the door and shake your head, thinking to yourself why he would say something like that.

Probably just to get under your skin. Sam doesn't really want you. He's said it himself, he's been in everything but you.

Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but still.

Your phone dings and you look down, "Fuck." You sigh as your friend's message, telling you she can't make it to study.

You reply, alright. Thanks for letting me know.

You open the door after changing and walk out, "Soo.."

"She canceled didn't she?" Sam chuckles and shakes his head, "Should have just said yes in the beginning."

You roll your eyes, wanting to say he probably knew because he's secretly fucking her, but you but your tongue, "Yeah, I guess."

"If you don't want to study with me, you don't have to I lm ju-"

"No. I could use you." You didn't know how your words sounded until Sam makes his remark, "Yeah you could." He smirks and nods his head and you laugh slightly, "No, sa-" you sigh, accepting defeat, "Yeah, I walked right into that one."

"Sure did." He smiles and walks over, grabbing your math book, "What do you need to know?"

I need to know why you're talking to y/f/n, you think as you sit down, "I'm guessing I need to know everything."

"Good thing we have all day then, right?" Sam opens the book, "Okay. So anything from chapter one on?"

You nod, "Yep."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

After a few hours of answering the questions Sam comes up with, and catching a few glimpses of him staring at you, you let out a sigh, "Okay. I need to eat. I forgot to eat last night and that bagel, although it was good, it's not enough to hold me over."

Sam closes the book, sighing back, "I totally forgot I was hungry. I got so caught up in this book." He laughs and you smile, "I can't stand that book."

"More than me?" Sam smirks and you laugh, "You know what.. maybe a little bit more than you."

He lays a hand on his chest and sighs, "Wow. That's so nice."

"Shut up. You're working your way back." You laugh and stretch, "So. Late lunch?"

"You mean.." he looks around and back to you, "You want to be seen out in public with me?" He point to himself and you shrug, "I can just go myself and bring it back?"

He stands up, "Let me get a shirt. I'll drive."

You laugh as he gets up, and you grab your laptop, looking over your almost completed final.

"Looks good don't it?" Sam asks walking back out, "we did good."

You nod, "we sure did. I do have to say.. you shocked me, Golbach."

"Why's that?"

You shut your computer and look over at him, "I didn't think you'd do it."

"Have some faith in me, y/n. I know I have a bad reputation, but.." he shrugs, "I don't want to be the campus fuck boy anymore."

You stare at him, a million things running through your mind trying to slip off your tongue.

"What?" He asks, "You don't believe me do you?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what?" He crosses his arms and you sigh, "Let's just go get food. I'm getting hangry."

"I can tell." He snickers and you push his shoulder as you walk by him. He lets out an, "Ouch!"

"Please. That didn't hurt." You laugh and look at him, "Do you want it to?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I might like it." He winks and you shake your head slightly, "Do- no." You laugh and grab your bag, "Come on."

He follows you out the door and down the steps, "Where do you wanna go?"

"I kinda wanna go to McDonald's.. I've been wanting some nuggets." You look at him as you wait for him to unlock the car, "If that's okay with you."

You mentally smacked yourself, why do you suddenly care about what's okay with him and what's not?

"Whatever you want, sweetheart." He unlocks the car and gets in as you do, "I was actually going to say the same thing."

"Yeah?" You buckle up and look at him. He nods, "Yeah, actually." He starts driving and after a minutes, he laughs, "So. I have to ask.."

"Oh god, what?”

He rubs his chin and glances over at you, "How did you come up with the response to Veronica?"

"Oh.. god." You laugh and cover your face, "Can we not.. fuck, I forgot to delete them."

"No, no. Now why would you delete them?" He chuckles, "I thought it was a pretty solid response, y/n."

"It makes it sound like we're together." You roll your eyes and he shrugs, "So what?"

"So what?" You repeat, "I just-"

"You don't want to be labeled a whore. I know." He sounds annoyed and you sigh, "Sam. I didn't-"

"No. Actually, I'm glad I brought this up because I wanted to tell you. I've ever slept with four girls since being here." He looks at you and you chew on your lip, "Really?"

He nods, "you were just going off of what you heard other people talking about." He shrugs, "I'm good looking. People like me. I'm instantly labeled a fuck boy because I like to party and I'm always seen with girls."

"I'm sorry, Sam. I-"

He cuts you off, "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe.. there's someone I want, but they don't want me? Because I can assure you, that that is possible."

You stay quiet and he sighs, "Sorry.. I just.." he runs a hand through his hair and you hesitate but you lay a hand on his shoulder, "No you're fine."

He glances at your hand and sighs before he grabs it, interlocking his fingers with yours.

You're shocked at first, but you let it happen, "Did you sleep with y/f/n?"

He looks at you and laughs, "What?"

"When I was replying to the girls who- wait.. why did you hype yourself up like a fuck boy if you really aren't?"

"We can come back to that. Why do you think I'm sleeping with y/f/n?" He laughs slightly, "Did you not read the messages?"

You shake your head, "No, I didn't."

"Could have." He shrugs, "I was asking her about you."

"Me?" You raise your brows, "Why me?"

He smirks and lifts your hand in his, "This isn't enough of a clue?" He shakes his head, "Maybe I need to spell things out for you."

You smile and sigh, "I just.. I didn't want to do anything I wasn't sure you'd be okay with."

"You swore you hated me. Up and down, side to side. Called me, pretty much a man whore and told me I treat women like objects.. and I'm still here. I'm pretty sure you can hit me with a car and I'll come crawling back."

"Sam." You laugh and he laughs, "I'm serious. Since our sophomore year.. I just thought I'd let you get to know me yourself but.."

You cut him off, "I listened to the rumors in the wind, rather than.. yeah.. sorry."

He shrugs, "I know you don't trust me right off the bat.. I know it's hard but.. why do you think I gave you my whole ass phone."

"Okay.. I did go through it." You look at him and he pretends to be shocked. You laugh, "But that's when I hated you."

"What are you saying? You don't hate me anymore?" Sam smirks and you tilt your head, "Do I have any reason to?"

"Unless you're mad about the four girls, then no." He laughs and you shrug, "You did what you needed to do to get me off your mind."

He sucks air through his teeth, "Yeah, about that."

Your face drops and your heart picks up, oh god, you think, he lied about everything, "what about what?"

"Even when I knew you didn't want me.. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Shut up." You laugh slightly and shake your head. He squeezes your hand, "I'm serious y/n. You may be the boring girl who doesn't party and stays back at her dorm to study instead to some people, but to me.. you're the best kind of girl."

His words make your stomach flutter, "Oh." You laugh slightly, "I thought this was going to be a completely different conversation."

He smiles slightly, "I kept up the act because I wasn't sure how this was going to go and plus.. I like getting you going."

"Really?" You squint at him and shake your head, " I didn't notice."

"Really? Hmm. I gotta step up my game." He laughs and rolls the window down before he starts to order.

You tell him what you want and wait for him to finish.

"Thank you." Sam pulls around and lets go of your hand, "Don't go far." He smirks up at you as he reaches into his shorts to pull out his wallet.

"Do you want me to pay yo-"

"Nope." Sam cuts you off with a smirk and you smile, "Thank you." He nods, "Not a problem at all."

"So.." you pause as he pays, speaking back up when he pulls forward, "Question."

"Answer." He looks over at you and you laugh slightly, "the comment.. you made about rarely bringing girls back to your apartment.."

"Honestly. There was one girl there but she was a girl who came with Colby, so she wasn't even my guest, well I mean she was but she wasn't.. mine? I think." He laughs and you nod, "No, I get it."

He sighs, "Good. You make me nervous."

"I make you nervous?" You laugh slightly and he shrugs, "also why I kept up the show. I couldn't let you know you affect my badass exterior."

You roll your eyes, "Please. I always thought you were an asshole."

He laughs and thanks the person at the window before driving off, "Well, I can be."

"There you go. That's a start." You smirk and he rolls his eyes, "Whatever, let's just get you back so you can fill that pretty little head with knowledge for tomorrow."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·

As you wrap up the studying, you stretch your arms above your head, "I feel pretty good about tomorrow."

Sam nods, "Yeah?"

You nod, "Thank you for helping me."

"Does that mean I'm your official, study buddy?" He winks and you smirk, "Maybe. That depends."

"Depends on what?"

You bite your lip and smile, "On if you're going to make me sleep on this couch again."

Sam scoffs, "The offer to sleep in the bed has been there since yesterday." He stands up, "C'mon." You stand up, taking his hand in yours and follow him into the room.

"No funny business." You joke and he holds his hands up, "Not unless you want there to be." He smirks and you pull the blanket back, sitting out to swing your legs onto the bed, "What a gentleman."

He gets in next to you after slipping his shirt off, "what can I say?"

"You can say, Sam, you are such a good guy, I don't know why I ever listened to the rumors about you. You're also a very good looking guy too." He laughs and you sigh, "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

"I'll take it." He chuckles and lays on his back, arm behind his head as you lay on your side with your back facing him. Your eyes can the wall, mind racing about everything that's happened.

"Sam."

"Y/n."

You bite your lip and roll over to face him. He lays on his side and brushes hair from your face, "What's up?"

"Why didn't you tell me anything sooner?" You look up at him and he shrugs, "Your friend told me to stay away because of the image you had against me."

"But she.." you sigh and shake your head, "Nothing.. goodnight." You go to turn away but his hand on your hip stops you, "What?"

You look back at him, "She told me that I needed to lose my imagine of you and at least I got stuck with you as a partner instead of Nevin."

"She didn't tell you that we texted a few times? Always about you, trust me. You can read them if y-"

You cut him off, "No it's okay. And no.. she didn't tell me."

Sam raises his brows, "Sounds like she's jealous."

"Jealous? Over what?"

"Over me, liking you and not her." Sam smirks, "oh, and because I can do this." He leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours and you freeze.

He pulls away, "Sorry.. too soon?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, "No." you lean back in, pressing your lips to his, "I've actually wanted to see what all the hype was about anyway."

"Doesn't live up to it?" Sam smirks and you sigh, "Yeah, I say it does.”

He smiles, "Alright." His eyes scan over your face and he sighs, "Go to bed."

"You go to bed." You shoot back and he chuckles, "I'll go to bed when you go to bed."

"Fine." You roll over, lying closer to him and he smiles, "Get over here." He lays his arm over your waist and pulls you to him, "you can take my car tomorrow."

"Really?" You bite your lip, "You trust me enough with that thing?" He laughs and nods, resting his chin on your shoulder, "I trust you."

The next morning, you wake up before Sam, anxious about your final. As you're sitting on the edge of the bed, going over problems in your head, you feel a hand gently drag down your back, "You're going to ace this test, y/n."

You look over your shoulder at a still half asleep Sam, "You think?"

"Mhm. I know you will because I helped you study." He smirks and you push him, "I'll thank you when I pass." You smile and get up, checking your phone, "Oh shit. I'm running late."

You quickly get around, pecking Sam on the lips before rushing out the door. You throw your stuff into the car and get in, taking off towards campus.

As soon as you park, you run towards the building and y/f/n stops you, "Whoa, hey y/n. Where the hell have you been?"

You stop and point, "we gotta go. We're going to be late."

She shakes her head, "Professor Fritz postponed it for a half hour. He's running late himself, didn't you check your email?"

You pull your phone out, "No I didn't." You click on the new email that was delivered twenty minutes ago, "Shit. Well. Okay." You sit down on the bench and she sits down next to you, "So you gonna answer my question?"

"About where I've been?" You look over at her and she nods, "uh yeah. That would be the question."

You laugh slightly, "I've been with Sam working on our project."

"You've been with Sam? What do you mean?" She tilts her head and you shrug, "I've been crashing on his couch so we can knock it out as soon as possible, what's the big deal?"

"I just.. the big deal is.. you couldn't stand him three days ago and now you're sleeping on his couch?" She scoffs, "You hate him, y/n."

"What happened to me needing to get over the stupid reason as to why I hate him? You were so hell bent on me being okay with Sam?" You stare at her and she shakes her head, "That's before I knew just how much of an asshole he actually is. You were right."

"Actually. I was wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"Why didn't you tell me that he texted you about me?" You watch as her face goes pale and you can visibly see her stumbling over finding what to say, "I-I don't know.. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I seen the texts, y/f/n, and Sam also told me about them. Why didn't you just tell me that he likes me?" You wait for her to answer, but she doesn't so you sigh, "Look.. I get it."

"Get what?" She snaps and you shrug, "You like Sam. Right?"

"Who wouldn't?" She laughs, "I mean.. yeah. I guess I do, or did. I was just jealous I guess? I don't know." She shakes her head and looks at you, "Wait."

You raise your brows and she points, "Isn't that Sam's car?" She looks from the car to you, "Why are you driving it?"

"He told me I could. He also helped me study when you bailed on me."

"Sorry about that." She sighs, "I'm sorry about not telling you about Sam.. I guess I just let my jealousy of him wanting you instead get to me."

You thought for a moment, debating on whether or not you felt her apology was genuine, "I just.. I wouldn't have done that to you."

"No I know. And I knew that I just.. I'm sorry."

You see the doors open up and you stand up, "I gotta go." You turn, walking towards the now open doors.

During the test, Sam was heavy on your mind.

How he looked while helping you study for these questions.

His smile when you got one right.

His eyes, how they watched you as you thought about your answers.

The way his hands felt on your body when he held you all night long.

You blinked, taking a deep breath as you went back to trying to focus on your test, but it was hard. The fact that Sam really wasn't the popular fuckboy you thought he was all because he was too scared to be rejected by you, makes you really want him more.

"Thirty minutes."

You sighed quietly at the professors warning and made yourself crack down on finishing this final.

Once time was up and tests were collected, the professor stands up from his desk, "You should all know whether you passed or failed within an hour. You're dismissed."

You grab your bag, digging out Sam's keys before getting up. Y/f/n stops in front of you, "Hey wait."

"I gotta get back. I still have to finish my other final." You look up at her and she sighs, "How can I make this up to you?"

You shrug, "When I think of it, I'll let you know."

And with that, you head out to the car, making your way back to Sam's apartment. You never thought y/f/n would do something like this.

It honestly felt like a stab in the back and you didn't know how to feel other than mad.

You make your way inside and open the door. Sam looks at you from the couch, "Hey. How'd it go?"

You smirk slightly as you shut the door, "The part where I tested or the part where I called y/f/n out on being a backstabbing friend?"

He switches the tv off and raises his eyebrows, "You really called her out?"

You nod, "She said that she was jealous over you wanting me instead."

"She wanted me?" He laughs slightly, "Ah. I see."

You walk over and sit down next to him, "Yeah. She said she let her jealous rage come between us. She apologized and then asked how she can make it up to me.."

"What did you say?" Sam reaches over and twirls a piece of your hair. You sigh, "I told her when I think of something I'd let her know and then I left."

He shakes his head, "She messed up."

You nod, "She sure did. I actually kinda like you."

"Kinda? Yikes, okay." Sam laughs and you smile, "you're not so bad after all. I just don't understand why she would tell me I need to get over it if she was keeping how you felt away from me." You shake your head, "I don't know. She should have known the truth was going to come out sooner or later."

"Glad it was sooner." Sam smiles and pulls you to him, "Gimme a kiss."

You peck his lips and he shakes his head, "Um no. I said a kiss." He smiles as you smile and you lay your hand on his cheek as your lips gently move with his.

You lean back, "How was that?"

He shrugs, "It was kinda alright." He smirks and you push his shoulder, "Rude."

He laughs and brushes your arm, "It was amazing."

You smile and look down as your phone goes off, "Oh. That's so early." You look up at Sam and reach for your laptop, "My test results are in."

You click into your email and take a deep breath, "Okay." You wait for it to load and Sam moves over next to you, watching at the circle spins around and around, "I hate that it takes forever."

You nod, "Yeah, me too." You nervously chew on your nail and shove your computer into Sam's lap, "I can't look."

"Okay. I gotcha. Hang on." He lays a hand on your knee, "Still loa- oh. Okay. Here we go." His eyes move down over the screen and you hold your breath, waiting for him to deliver the news.

He looks up at you and a slow smile grows on his face, "You passed."

"I-I.. passed?" You ask in disbelief. He turns the laptop around and nods, "You sure did."

Without any hesitation, you lean forward, crashing your lips into his.

And it's an instant heat.

He moves the laptop, pulling you onto his lap fully, "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kissing you. You lean back slightly, "i guess I just really want to know what you're like in bed."

He chuckles and nods, "Yeah?"

"Do you not want to?" You go to move off of him but he stops you, grinding his hips up and he watches as your lips part, "I didn't say I didn't want to."

His hand slides to the back of your neck and pulls you down, closing the space between you. He swings you over, laying you down as his body moves on top of yours.

Your legs wrap around his waist and your hand runs through his hair, "Please." You whimper quietly as he kisses down your neck, "Sam."

"Please Sam what, baby?" He leans up, smirking down at you. You pout, "You know what."

He leans up, biting his lip as he undoes your pants and your hips raise as he pulls them down, throwing them onto the floor before he takes off his own shirt and works his shorts down.

Your eyes scan up and down his body as he's a lot hotter than you thought.

"Like what you see?"

You blink a few times, breaking the stare from his torso as you look up at him with a slight laugh, "Yeah actually. I do."

You sit up, taking off your shirt before laying back. Sam's brow twitches and he sighs, "Yeah, I like what I'm seeing too."

He leans down, cock pushing against your panty covered pussy and you whine, "Sam.. please." You look at him, "Fuck me."

He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them down, quickly discarding his boxers and his body is quick to hover above yours.

All of the hateful things you thought about Sam are gone, right in this moment.

It was just you and him.

He was all you needed.

He slowly pushes his cock into you and lets out a groan that mixes perfectly with your moan, “Sam.”

His hand grips your outer thigh as it wraps around his waist and he leans down to kiss you. You rest a hand on his cheek, “You feel so good.”

He smiles against your lips, “You feel even better.” He starts to slowly pull out and thrust back in, groaning as his pace builds up.

You clench around him, moaning and gasping as you feel so close to breaking, “S-so close.”

“You can do it, come on baby.” He kisses your neck, biting and nipping, “Cum for me.”

You wrap an arm around his neck, clinging to him as your body tenses and twitches, “Fuck. Fuck. F-fu-“ you moan loudly, digging your nails into his back and dragging up.

He groans as the pain from your nails almost sends him right along with you.

“Fucking hell, y/n.” He roughly kisses you as he fucks you through your high, “I-I’m go-“ he moans into your mouth, gasping as his thrusts grow sloppy, “Shit.”

He pulls out and you feel him spill over your stomach. You cup his cheeks, kissing him as he relaxes.

He leans up, looking down at his mess on you and he sighs, "You look so fucking hot like this." His hand drags down your thigh and you bite your lip, "I don't have any plans."

"I'm taking that as a challenge." He chuckles and you shrug, "Take it however just as long as we're naked in that bed."

"Come on." He grabs your hand and pulls you up, "Well clean up later." He winks and drags you into his bedroom, shutting the door with a slam.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I just want to give a huge thank you for all the patience. December has NOT been easy for me whatsoever, but the constant support and nice messages mean the absolute world to me. So I thank each and every one of you for that. <3

Likes and reblogs are appreciated

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