#it literally froze before the last 6

[fishy006]

it’s the way my tv kept freezing and usually on rlly important moments. omg i was stressed! but WE WON!!

[1-victoria-1]

Alastor x Child!Doe! Reader

A/n: the reader in this one will be a female and will be around the age of 4-6. I will also try to write a fic for the male audience, enjoy!

If only your innocent little mind knew how shocked, confused and concerned Charlie, the princess of hell was when she saw you, a child who has freshly arrived to hell and came to her tugging her pants and asking in an innocent voice "miss, can you tell me where i am?".

And oh her grandfather how her heart hurt when you looked at her and those little doe ears on top of your head twitched slightly as you tilted your little head at her, of course she couldn't just leave you here! So she took you with her to her hotel and as she literally flew in through the door of the hotel while holding you like a treasure that she has been trying to find for so long and yelling with excitement, "this little cutie is staying with us from now on!" And held you up like simba for everyone to see you and you just innocently looked at them and still confused on where you were and where your mama was.

Charlie then sat you down on one of the red couches in the hotel lobby when Vaggie told her that she should calm down and let you down.

She of course forgot to ask you for your name so she thought it would be good to start off with an introduction! "Alright sweetie! Let me introduce myself and the others to you! Im charlie, this lady next to me is Vaggie, my girlfriend! Then over there is Angel dust and his our first resident at the hotel, then there's Husk, our wonderful bartender! Sir. Pentious our second resident! And nifty she keeps everything clean here and-!"

She was about to introduce the red deer demon when she noticed he wasn't present in the lobby which meant he either was in his radio tower or in cannibal town but she didn't need long when he popped up.

"Charlie dear, i heard that you're introducing us to a new resident at the hotel, who might it be dear?"

Alastor asked as he looked at Charlie with his usual toothy smile, and your first impression about him was that he was red, like a strawberry! And you loved strawberries!

"Alastor! Right on time, i was introducing us to-! Eh i forgot to ask her name, but anyways i was introducing us to our new resident at the hotel! Darling what might be your name?"

Charlie asked you as she kneeled down in front of you as you sat on the couch and started at the deer demon and then looked at Charlie again. "[Y/n]" you said that innocently and squeaked happily, you really were an innocent little fellow.

'a child..'was the first thing Alastor thought, a child in hell was rare, except for the hellborn children of course, a sinner child was rare and this one looked small and from her look she didn't know where she was or what was happening, and she looked like a doe, maybe it was the reason eht he felt such a pang in his sadistic heart when he saw you, you were a doe, a fawn, his deer parent instincts kicked in.

He walked up to you and looked down at you and you looked at him and he just chuckled through his static voice, "oh what a little darling you are, aren't you? Can you perhaps tell us what you remember as last before you came here?" He asked as he looked at you and you twitched with your doe ears slightly and though and then answered.

"well i remember that papa was mad about something and then told me to take some kind of pills which made me feel dizzy and funny!" I said that and looked at the red man in front of me, and that's when the spider spoke, angel dust was it.

"toots her father drugged her with overdoses, what a filthy man." The spider said that and that's when Charlie literally froze up and Alastor himself felt like slaughtering that pitiful excuse of a father with a slow and painful death and then broadcasting his screams in his radio broadcast, and Charlie's reaction wasn't good either, she was all about second chances and redemption but that filthy human being didnt deserves any of it.

Looks like that was the reason why you were in hell, your father killed you with drugs but heaven saw it as if you had taken them willingly, which actually made Alastor and Charlie more furious, you were a child, and a child had nothing to do in hell!

"don't worry sweetie! Big sister Charlie will take great care of you as well as everyone in this hotel! As we are one big family here!" She said that as she calmed down her anger and picked you up and you giggled, you had a big sister now!

_________________________________________

And from that day on you started to live in the hotel while also being taken care of, Angel of course had to put his sex jokes away whenever you were around otherwise he would get threatening looks from Vaggie and Alastor.

Surprisingly and what no one expected was that you warmed up to Alastor quite quickly, you literally were like glued to him, at first he didn't really approve of it but then he also warned up to you and now you were like a father daughter duo!

You would always accompany him where he went but only in the hotel as he didn't want his innocent little doe daughter to get bad influence from hell and also he didn't want you to get hurt.

He would let you in his radio tower and you would either sit in his lap and draw something with crayons on a paper or color something or sometimes just listen to what your now new papa was doing, well except for times when he did gruesome things, he will always either get you to take your nap time or just leave you with Husk where you would get your favorite juice and usually also draw something of just color things in your coloring book and the show it to alastor afterwards.

He of course has taken you to meet Rosie after all she was your auntie now and it wouldn't be polite not to have you meet her and oh my stars she was just beaming when alastor introduced you both, she was an auntie now to Alastor's (literal) spawn of a daughter, and now she got a little lady to give cute little dresses and skirts! She even got you a mini version of Alastor's outfit and even a self-made little cane! Oh how adorable you looked!

Vaggie was very skeptical of this (and she still is) because well Alastor is the radio demon after all and well she just doesn't trust him and how is she supposed to trust him with a kid!

But even if some (almost all of the hotel staff) were skeptical and also afraid that your innocence might change. Alastor was still a great father, he does your hair even if it comes out sloppy at times but he's proud of his doing and sure his mother would be as well, speaking of his mother, she would have loved you as all the food that Alastor cooks you are receipts of his mother! And lets not forget that he tells you stories of her and how great she was, after all he does want you to admire his mother like he does!

He totally cuddles with you, you can't change my mind.

You are now one of his weaknesses now for sure.

At the meeting with heaven, Charlie didn't only present as a possible sinner for redemption, Angel dust and Sir Pentious, she also showed you, but she also wanted that to be as a show of how unfair heaven is, sending a little child down to hell when they have done absolutely nothing wrong and were drugged to death by their father!

Emily of course being the sweetest being ever was shocked and of course started to doubt heaven only more, and when the talk of extermination came, she was furious, like furious furious, like who is in the right mind to kill souls and at that even innocent children! That's just absurd!

A sweet one was when adam revealed Vaggie's identity and Charlie came back to hell with Vaggie and she was sad, you, their little sunshine, was there to cheer Vaggie up, she was your big sister as well! And the. You went to Charlie with auntie Rosie, and then everything was alright again and you were a happy bubbly mess to your father who was scratching you begging your doe ears, you were just the sweetest.

________________________________________

A/n: that's it for now dear reader, i hope you enjoy this little fic! Should i perhaps make a part two of this? Or maybe a full mini series?Have a wonderful day and stay healthy!

[animasola86]

LOST & FOUND 🫂 CH4

After agreeing to become their little girl, you are woken up by Mommy, who has special plans to ease you into your first day of your new life.

soft!Daddy!dom x Mommy!domme x little girl!reader

WARNINGS: F!Reader insert. Explicit sexual content. Mommy/Daddy kink. Dd/Md/lg dynamics. Pet names. Dom/sub undertones. Shared shower. Nudity. Vaginal fingering/assisted masturbation. “Self” care/makeover/waxing. Angst/humiliation. Hurt/comfort. (More notes under the cut!)

WORDS: 8k 🔷️ READ ON AO3 🔷️ 1–2–3–4–5–6 7–8–9–10–11–12

A/N: This chapter is a direct continuation of Chapter 2 and keeps focusing on Reader's new life as the Little Girl of Mommy and Daddy. All following chapters (unless stated otherwise) will follow the past-timeline and show how Reader ended up like she did in chapters 1 and 3. (For more info on Reader, check out the Notes in Chapter 1.) ❗ Please read THIS if you're confused about the tags I listed this under!

Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4 🔷️ Chapter 5

Several months earlier

You woke up after that first night, completely knocked out and overwhelmed, to someone gently shaking you, lips pressing to your pillow-wrinkled cheek, a soft voice cooing for you to wake up. Mommy was there, and while your first instinct was to groan and turn back around and ask for five more minutes, not quite realizing where you were, she basically dragged you out of bed and into the bathroom.

While she certainly meant well, you felt very uncomfortable as she helped you out of the clothes you slept in and into the shower. You wanted to protest, against the fact that you were naked in front of a stranger, and also, didn't you just shower last night? With your mind still hazy with sleep, you wondered if rich people did it like this, showering every night and every morning, possibly several times a day? They definitely didn't have to worry about too much water consumption, apparently. But then the strangest thing happened: the woman you were supposed to call Mommy stripped down as well and stepped in after you, and your muddled mind was silenced immediately.

You were so surprised and more than taken aback by it that you just stood there, with your back to her, not even daring to take another look at her beautiful body. She was a bit taller than you and had all the right curves in all the right places, perfect skin, not a single hair anywhere on her body, except for her long black locks that she wore in a messy bun atop her head, and when she stepped behind you, her hands found your shoulders before she wrapped your unruly tresses around her fingers and brought them up in the same fashion, then slipped a hair tie over the mess to keep it in place.

Then she leaned past you (her perfect breasts pressing against your shoulder blades) and turned the shower on, and while you expected to be hit by either ice cold or scorching hot water, the temperature was perfect right away. That alone was a luxury you'd never experienced before. She angled the shower head to spray down below your chin to keep your head and hair dry.

You were still just standing there, baffled and embarrassed to be this close to such a gorgeous woman (though your main concern was how you felt like a literal child whose Mommy had to help them showering, but you figured that was part of her wanting to take care of you). As you woke up more and more, you became more and more aware and self-conscious of your neglected body. For months, self-care hadn't been an option for you, too much hassle, and for what? But now you wished you could have prepared yourself for this experience in some way, shaved maybe? Made yourself more presentable?

The question remained: what did this woman see in you to treat you like this?

Your anxiety spiked when you felt her soap-covered hands on your body, first on your arms, then she went straight to your breasts, cupping them, squeezing them lightly, rubbing the suds into your skin. You froze, holding your breath, clenching your hands into fists. It was such an intimate gesture, you weren't ready for it. A little sob escaped you, and you felt her pausing, before she leaned closer again, pressing her body against your backside.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked directly into your ear, her velvety voice causing you to shiver deeply. “You gotta tell me if you don't like what I do, okay? This is for you. If you don't want it, I'll stop.”

You took a shuddering breath. “N-no,” you urged out. “I... I mean... it's okay... it's just... all so new...”

Her laugh echoed through the steam-filled room. “Never been touched by a woman before, sweet girl?”

“N-never had somebody... take care of me like this...” you whispered breathlessly, the thick air and her closeness making you dizzy.

You felt her lips on your cheek, the touch lingering as she spoke softly: “You better get used to this. We have so much love and care to give, you have no idea.”

It could have sounded like a threat, but you closed your eyes and nodded, leaning against her when she continued the gentle groping of your boobs. She chuckled again, bringing her lips down to your shoulder. Her hands moved lower eventually, rubbing over your stomach and down your hips, and you still couldn't move, you just endured (or silently enjoyed it?), but when you could feel her stepping around you, one of her hands slipping down your front while the other curved around your rear, you flinched badly.

Your feet squeaked on the tiled floor, and you almost lost your footing, but instead of getting away from her, she grabbed you a little harder, her hands on your waist, pulling you back, gently but firmly. Your chest was rising and falling faster, your heart nearly exploding behind your ribs. She shushed you, kissing along your neck as she returned her hands where she initially wanted to bring them.

“It's okay, sweetheart, let Mommy see, yes?” she cooed into your ear, and you stiffened, inhaling deeply and holding your breath as her hand brushed down your tense belly and directly between your legs.

You felt so embarrassed. You were not as spotless as she was, some would say natural, and while you let everything grow because you couldn't care about it anymore in the months of your slow downfall, you wished you could go back to not caring now. But you cared, you didn't want this woman to touch you in places nobody had touched in a very long time, yourself included, at least not this intimately.

You tried to squirm away, but she grabbed your ass in response, holding you in place. You let out a quiet yelp. “It's alright,” she said calmly, her lips back at your ear, the touch scorching hot. “I will not hurt you. I will not judge you. You are a beautiful girl, sweetheart, and nothing will ever hide that.” As she spoke, she started rubbing her fingers along your slit, a gentle touch, just a caress, every stroke of her hand accentuated by more soothing words. “You deserve to be loved, my sweet thing. Loved and touched and pampered. Do not be shy, do not be embarrassed. There's no need. You are beautiful. So beautiful...”

Her voice lulled you, made you relax into her ministrations, and as she finished her soothing pep talk, her fingers dipped between your labia, a little gasp escaped you, your lips parting, and before you knew it, she had caught it by pressing her mouth to yours, kissing you softly as she rubbed her fingertip slowly up and down until it prodded your entrance, and while her tongue pushed into your mouth, her digit pushed into your clenching cunt.

Your moan was swallowed by her own little inhale. Her other hand slid up your back until her palm was pressed to your neck, holding you steady as she continued to kiss and finger you, and all you could do was melt into her caresses, meeting her tongue with your own, gliding your lips against hers, even grinding your hips into her hand. Your head was spinning, breathless and overwhelmed as you were, and the more she touched you, the less vulnerable you felt.

The way she moved her fingers (she seemed to have added another one) inside you, slow and careful, pressing as deep as her knuckles allowed, fingernails scraping gently along your tight walls, it all felt very good very quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, your breaths rasping out of you, new air barely able to reach your lungs as she kept plunging her tongue into your mouth. You felt like floating, surrounded by warm water and even warmer steam, pressed against a soft body, her hand closing around your nape, and all those touches sent more tingles down your spine, shivers and shudders, that all gathered low in your stomach, and lower, making your clit throb.

And it was when she suddenly pressed her thumb against that sensitive bundle of nerves that you yelped against her mouth, eyes flying open, a strange assortment of white and black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. Your legs trembled badly the more she rubbed at your clit, her fingers still plunging in and out, a little curl to them now, hitting different spots deep inside you. You stared at her, or tried to, she looked blurry, and you tried to blink your eyes back into focus, but instead a loud moan was ripped from your throat when she moved her fingers and her thumb in a clawing motion, pressing directly against your clit and g-spot.

You shook, your limbs twitching, and your hands found her waist for support as you gasped for air like a fish out of water, your eyes rolling back, your head reeling, and for a moment you felt as if you'd left your own body, floating away, without a care in the world...

You came back when she pulled her fingers out and kept caressing your sensitive labia, and every brush against your hood gave you another deep shudder. You clung to her, your forehead resting on her shoulder, your breaths labored and raw, your heart thundering in your chest. She rubbed your back with her free hand, soothing you with words you couldn't understand. The first that did make it through the cotton in your head, dug themselves deep into your soul:

“Good girl.”

A smile appeared on your trembling lips, the praise like an additional caress down your spine. You found yourself hugging the woman you barely knew and somehow trusted a lot more now, your arms snaking around her waist as you pressed yourself into her. She embraced you gently, holding you as the water sprayed against your shoulder. You felt her lips on your forehead, her exhale warm against your skin.

The rest of the shower was a blur. She kept washing you, rubbing her hands over your warm skin, and she even nudged you to touch her as well, which was yet another overwhelming experience as you weighed her big breasts in your small hands.

She continued to be gentle and patient with you, giving you time when you needed it, but also pushed you a little to get you out of your old habits. As embarrassing as it should have been, it was also refreshing and comforting to know that even if you might fall back into your dark hole whenever new and old doubts would resurface, Mommy was there to pull you back out.

By the time you were out of the shower and wrapped in a large, fluffy towel, a knock sounded on the door. You froze, but the other woman just huffed a sigh and walked to open it, still as naked as before, no shame whatsoever. Your eyes widened when you saw the tall man appearing in the door frame, his eyes first grazing the woman before they wandered to you. He smiled softly.

“Good morning,” Daddy said, his smile widening when he saw you blushing deeply, pulling the towel tighter around your body. He looked back at Mommy then, raising an eyebrow. “You beat me to it, huh?” he mused.

The woman laughed, nudging his bearded chin with her index finger. “Gotta be faster, old man,” she teased with a soft laugh.

You watched the two silently, frozen to the spot, acutely aware of just wearing a towel, your exposed skin warming up badly as your eyes wandered from Mommy's naked backside to Daddy's tall frame behind her. He wasn't wearing a suit today, but a tight shirt and formfitting sweatpants, and his hair was tousled, cheeks a little flushed. Had he been running? Probably, with a body like that –

“How are you feeling today, darling?” he addressed you, ripping you from your thoughts. Your face heated up even more.

“Really good,” you whispered shyly, chewing on your bottom lip as you met his gaze.

“I'm glad,” he replied, tilting his head slightly, his eyes crinkling.

“And she'll feel even better today. I'm taking her to the salon,” Mommy interrupted the moment by pressing a hand to Daddy's chest. “You can have her tomorrow.”

He sighed, bringing his gaze back to the woman in front of him. “Don't do anything she doesn't want to do, okay?” he told her quietly. “Don't scare her away on her first day...”

She laughed, turning back to you. Your heart skipped a beat. “Don't worry, we already established our bond, didn't we, honey?”

You lowered your eyes, your blush spreading all over your shoulders. “Yes, Mommy,” you whispered. It still felt a little weird to call her that, but seeing her reaction to it made up for the awkwardness. She mewled softly and turned around fully, extending her arms until she could pull you into a tight hug.

“My sweet girl,” she cooed, kissing your hairline. You leaned against her warm body, meeting Daddy's curious gaze over her shoulder.

“You'll be okay,” he told you with a gentle smile. “But remember: you can say no, we will not force you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Won't we?” he added pointedly, making Mommy turn her head to him. She gave him a smirk and a wink, and he sighed.

She let go of you then, taking a step back to him. “Go take your own shower now,” she told him, poking his chest. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her a little closer, eyeing her darkly.

“Don't tell me what to do,” he whispered.

“Make me,” she replied with a chuckle.

You watched them with growing curiosity, still wondering what kind of relationship these two actually had. For a moment they just stared at each other, before Mommy leaned up on her toes and pressed her full lips against his.

“Let us have our Girls Day, okay, papito?”

“Fine,” he said with an exhale, his other hand moving along her bare shoulders up to her nape before he grabbed the messy bun on top of her head and pulled her back a little. “But I mean it: I still want to recognize her later.”

Her turn to sigh. “Of course, don't worry,” she replied, putting her hand on his cheek, giving it a soft pat. “Unless she wants a complete makeover. This is about her,” she added, turning her head back to you. “Isn't it, sweet thing?”

You blushed when the attention was back on you.

“We'll do whatever makes you happy, okay, honey?”

“Okay,” you mouthed a little breathlessly. Your eyes wandered between the two adults (the longer you stood watching them, the smaller and younger you felt, no matter the fact that you were technically an adult yourself). You weren't used to all this attention, but it grew on you. It made you feel warm and seen (even if you'd prefer to wear more clothes while being looked at).

Daddy let go of Mommy then, taking a half-step into the bathroom. “Can I get a hug before I leave you in Mommy's care, sweetheart?” he asked quietly, extending a hand towards you.

Your body's immediate reaction was a sudden jerk, a clear indication that you wanted to sink into his strong arms and never emerge from them again, but your mind was still a little timid, and then there was Mommy, stepping between you and the tall man.

“Get away, you're all gross and sweaty. I just cleaned her!” she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

He lowered his hand slowly, his eyes still on you. There was a darkness within them, a strange look that made your stomach twist in a weird way, warm and tense, like a throb, a clench, an itch. “I... I don't mind,” you heard yourself stammering. Before you knew it, you took a step forward, your bare feet padding on the tiles, and when his smile widened, you extended a hand to put it onto his big palm. At the same time as he pulled you closer, you heard Mommy sighing. She stepped away, and you hoped she wouldn't be too mad, but you couldn't resist him – and the urge growing inside your own body.

He wrapped his big arms around your shoulders, and you found yourself pressed to his chest. It was warm, his scent filling your nostrils, filling your head, a mixture of body wash and sweat, a masculine smell that made you dizzy, but in a good way. You carefully snaked your arms around his waist and held onto him, closing your eyes for a moment.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “Have a good time today, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you murmured into him.

He squeezed you a little more at that, his inhale loud and almost surprised. As he embraced you, you suddenly felt another presence behind you. Mommy's arms joined yours in encircling the tall man as she pressed herself into you. His arms loosened, leaving you, pulling her closer against your back. You gasped a little as they hugged you tightly, and you would have never expected to feel this comfortable in a Mommy-and-Daddy-sandwich.

It was certainly strange to go from nobody caring about you, to having these two people taking such an interest in you. And they weren't lying. They had a lot of love and care to give, you could feel it in the way they held you and spoke to you. And you'd only met them yesterday! How was this possible?

But you didn't want to question it, you just wanted to melt into their warmth and strength, enjoy the moment, neither look back nor ahead. It felt good. Good enough to bring tears into your eyes. A little sob escaped you, and you buried your face firmer into Daddy's chest. Mommy let go first, and before you knew it, Daddy's hands were on your shoulders, leaning you back a little.

Looking up, you realized your vision was blurry. As you tried to blink your eyes into focus, you felt his fingers wiping at your wet cheeks, a concerned look on his handsome face.

“I... I'm fine,” you murmured quickly, sniffling quietly. “These are... happy tears...”

His relieved exhale hit your forehead before he leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth. Meeting his gaze, you couldn't help it, you turned your head a little bit and used his closeness to brush your lips fully against his. His hands held you still for a moment, the kiss, if you could call it that, a lingering press, before he leaned back with a deep sigh.

“Sorry, darling, today's Mommy's day,” he whispered, giving you a wink. “We can expand on this tomorrow, okay?” As his fingers curled around your ear, his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip. “Trust me, I can't wait...”

You gave him a shy smile, your face properly burning now. He eventually let go of you fully and stepped back. Mommy put her hands on your shoulders. “See you later, Daddy,” she cooed.

“Bye, ladies, have fun,” he said with a little wave, his eyes fixed on you.

“Bye, Daddy,” you whispered, watching how his eyes sparkled when he winked at you, before he turned around and left the room.

You were still buzzing, basically floating, so when Mommy told you to wash your face and brush your teeth and use the toilet, you did as she told you, ignoring how degrading this should have felt, being told to do the most basic things, things a person your age should be able to do on her own. But it also felt good, having someone push you to do so, and she didn't sound condescending or mocking, but caring and sweet now that you were alone again.

Once you were all ready for the day, you stood, still in your towel, in the middle of the room (your room) while she pulled out various clothes, watching you as she did so, assessing your build and size, and in the end she chose a pair of pink panties for you and a matching bra that was a little loose but she assured you to buy better fitting things for you soon. You wondered then who all those clothes belonged to, they looked too girly to have been hers, and the wide array of different sizes also made you curious.

She looked at you as she held a knee-length pink dress to your chest. “We bought these for our old subs,” she said nonchalantly as if reading your mind. “I told you we've been looking for the right girl for a while. And we tried, tested a few, but none of them would really fit our needs, you know? You, however,” she added, putting the dress down to place her hands on your shoulders as she looked down at you with a soft smile, “you are what we're looking for. I can already tell. You belong here, and soon we'll fill this closet with your own things, and only yours, okay?”

You stared at her, your throat tight. Knowing that other girls had spent their time in this room, with these people, with your Mommy and Daddy, made you feel strangely small and insignificant. Like one of many. And you wondered when they would realize that you might not fit their needs either so they could move to the next girl. But you still hoped beyond hope that what she said was true. “So... so you won't... send me away again?”

“Oh, sweet thing, of course not, unless you want to leave, but I really hope you'll stay with us. We can give you anything you need, and you'd make us so happy too!” She pulled you against her bare chest (she still hadn't bothered putting on any clothes and you really envied her confidence), her arms tight around your shoulders as you gingerly hugged her back, feeling the soft slope of her spine under your clammy palms.

She kissed your forehead and let go again, smiling down at you. You felt the need to reassure her. “I'll... stay, I want to stay,” you whispered, biting your lip as a little smile played around the corner of your mouth.

Her hands found your face. “I'm glad,” she breathed, her lips brushing against yours, and then she really kissed you, a hard press, a confident lick against the seam of your mouth before you indulged her and kissed her back, timidly moving your tongue and lips against hers. “You taste so sweet,” she muttered, sighing deeply as she moved her lips down your jaw to your neck, giving your pulse a little suck that made you flinch a little. “I can't wait to taste more of you...”

Her words sent another deep shudder down your spine that ultimately gathered right in your throbbing clit. You had no idea what it was about this woman, about this whole situation, but anything she did to you, any touch, any word, made you feel like you never felt before. It was all warm and cozy, but it could turn hot and overwhelming in the blink of an eye. You slipped from feeling comfortable to completely aroused, back and forth, and it should be weird, but it wasn't. It felt right.

Mommy gave you another press of her lips to your neck before she leaned away, letting go of you to pick up the pink dress. “Alright, let's get ready for our Girls Day, shall we?” she said happily, shoving the dress into your hands. “Get dressed, I'll do the same, and I'll meet you here soon, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” you whispered, enduring/savoring another tight hug and a squeal from her, before she did what she told you and left the room, as naked as she was, her hips swaying as she went.

Later, you sat next to her in the back of the car again. She had put on a dark blue blouse and wide-legged pants, the pointy tips of her high heels poking out from the wide hem as she crossed her legs and leaned back into her seat, her hand on your thigh as she smiled at you. You smiled back shyly, feeling rather small next to her, in your soft pink dress, your magenta tights and those white little sneakers she gave you.

You had never cared much about being girly or wearing bright colors before, but it felt okay when somebody else told you to do so. The way she looked at you, so proud and happy, made it all worth it, even if you didn't quite feel like yourself anymore. But that was the point of this, wasn't it? To get you out of your old habits and show you something new, a new side of yourself. It could only get better from here, right?

Well.

Before it got better, it got a lot worse when you found yourself in a small room with a woman telling you to strip for her. Mommy was there too, but the stranger made you feel very uncomfortable. You were in one of those beauty salons you'd never seen the inside of. The woman seemed nice enough, or rather passive more likely, because it was her job to groom and take care of other people and she probably saw many different kinds of women each day, but you couldn't shake the feeling of a deep-rooted shame as you pulled your dress over your head, exposing yourself, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed and very insecure to show this stranger your neglected body.

Mommy helped you, her eager hands pulling down your tights (and panties) in one swift move, and you gasped and squirmed, trying to cover yourself, but she shushed you quietly. “It's okay, no need to be shy. I'm right here, you can do this.” You inhaled sharply, trying to focus on her as you stepped out of your tights, watching her put your clothes onto a nearby chair before she snaked her hands around your torso and unclasped your bra, adding it to the pile.

“Sit down please,” the other woman told you. When you looked at her, you noticed her almost bored looking gaze, as if she indeed did this several times a day. Nevertheless, you didn't, never had done this before, and when you scooted up on the reclined chair covered in a soft towel, you felt close to tears.

Clamping your thighs together, you put your hands on your breasts (wondering why you had to expose them in the first place when this was about trimming your body hair), when you felt Mommy's hands on yours as she leaned over you from behind. “Relax, baby girl,” she told you, turning her head to kiss your cheek. “Just relax. Lean back, close your eyes, and let the nice lady do her job, okay?”

And you tried. She kept her hands on your chest to ground you, giving your boobs gentle squeezes whenever you flinched or winced or squirmed as the nice lady began working on you. She started on your legs, and while you thought she might shave them as you would have done, she waxed them, and it felt strange when she applied the warm wax, but even worse when she suddenly ripped the sheets she pressed down onto your leg away again, causing you to squeak and almost kick her in the face.

Mommy kept close to you, hugging you, soothing you, her fingers drawing distracting circles around your nipples. You turned your head to her, your face flushed, watching her soft smile, the twinkle in her eyes, and somehow you made it through the torture of having your legs waxed. But then you felt a nudge against your thigh.

Looking back to the woman, you noticed her adding something to the chair you were resting on. Some sort of stirrups, and you realized you'd have to spread your legs and put them on there, because she –

– was about to wax your sex next. Oh dear God.

A whimper escaped you, your thighs pressing even tighter together, and you looked back at Mommy, pleading with her. She shook her head and caressed your cheek. “It's okay, honey, it won't hurt for long.” But it will hurt, you wanted to tell her, your eyes widening. “You're a big girl, aren't you? You can take it.”

And somehow her well-meant words made you feel even worse. Shame flooded your entire body, your blush spreading down to your chest. Your legs were still burning and irritated, the skin tight, and to imagine the same procedure between your thighs? But being treated like a little girl in front of this stranger gave you a weird boost of confidence, reverse-psychology-style. Because you were not a little girl, you were a grown ass woman, you should be able to deal with this! Clenching your jaw, you inhaled deeply, looking up at the ceiling as you lifted your legs and put them into the contraptions of the chair.

You forced yourself to ignore the cold breeze against your pussy lips, the way the woman stepped closer, the way her gloved fingers applied the wax over the coarse hairs of your mound. Your own hands clamped down on the edge of the seat, your breaths labored as you waited for the inevitable pain to shoot through your body. But when it came, you still jerked, a scream escaping your tight throat that was quickly silenced as you felt Mommy's hands on your face, making you look at her.

You felt tears burning in your eyes, the throbbing pain between your legs only part of the sudden waterworks. Her gaze was stern and hard, and you couldn't look away. You kept chewing on your bottom lip, wondering if you'd disappointed her by being so squeamish about this. If she'd change her mind about you being the perfect one. As the first tear rolled down your cheek, her gaze softened, her thumb tracing the path it took to your jaw.

She leaned in then, pressing her lips against your forehead, while another jolt of pain ripped through you as more of your hair was pulled out. You flinched, but you also forced yourself not to scream again. You did bite your tongue and tasted blood, but you didn't want to show her how much you suffered. She had brought you here, probably spent quite a sum to give you this treatment (and you were in dire need of it too, even if you couldn't really handle the pain and shame it brought with it), and you knew you should be grateful. And you were, you would be, afterwards, when the pain was gone and your skin smooth again, but right now all you could do was cry quietly and endure.

You felt dizzy by the end of it, barely able to move your limbs. So you let the woman arrange you how she needed you, noticing that Mommy had shifted behind the chair, looking down at you, holding your hands above your head as your arms were being lifted, more wax came down and more pain throbbed through you, your armpits burning like they'd never done before. Through bleary eyes you watched her, squeezing her hands back, feeling lightheaded and disoriented.

And then it was over, finally. Someone pulled you off the chair and onto trembling legs, Mommy helped you get dressed again. Your skin was warm and tight, but as smooth as it had ever been. The shame of the procedure was just a little flame in the back of your mind now, somehow you felt too numb to care anymore.

Once you were in your tights and dress again, you were guided into another room, onto another chair, and while Mommy sat down on a stool next to you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, you felt a new pair of hands on your head, fingers loosening the messy bun on top before slipping through the wild strands. You inhaled deeply and leaned into the chair, letting them do their thing. It hurt when they brushed through the unruly mess that was your hair, it hurt when they plugged your eyebrows into shape, it hurt and stung and the shame flared up from time to time, but you tried to focus on Mommy and her beautiful face, as she watched you closely, never not paying attention to you.

That might have been the weirdest thing. The way she always watched you, so attentively. Nobody had ever looked at you like this, not even your own mother, who had always been busy with other things, your siblings, one of her husbands, her phone, the TV, anything else, while you tried to tell her about that drawing you made in preschool that day. You remember that you eventually gave up telling her anything, and the older you got, the more you distanced yourself from her, because it wasn't worth it anymore. She just didn't seem to care, and she did a very bad job at hiding it also.

But this woman, the one you met yesterday, looked at you with so much care in her pretty eyes, held your hand between hers, warm and gentle but firm, showing you she was there. She cared, she barely knew you, but she cared, and it brought another tear into your eye that you quickly wiped with your free hand, before giving her a brave smile as your head was jerked back a little again. And because she cared, you cared too, you wanted to show her that you were indeed a big girl, that this didn't hurt, that it wasn't uncomfortable, that you could endure.

This was for your own good anyway (even if it felt like torture). She was trying to make you your own person again, bring you back into the world that had spat you out so ruthlessly.

Eventually, you relaxed into whatever was happening around you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your hand gave hers the occasional squeeze, and you just lay there, thinking about your new life, thinking back to the tall man waiting his turn back home (your home... what a twist), and you wondered how he would spend the day with you. Would he do Dad-things with you? Take you to some sports event? Watch TV with you? Go fishing, maybe? You realized you had no idea what a father would even do with his kid, because neither your biological father nor any of your various step-fathers had ever shown any interest in you.

Then again, maybe you shouldn't focus on the Dad-things, but the Daddy-things. Because quite frankly, you didn't want this man to be your father, you wanted him to be there for you, hold you and kiss you, be something more to you, you wanted to sit on his lap again, lean against him, feel his warmth and strength, and his hands all over you...

A little gasp escaped you as you felt your core clenching around nothing, a little throb, then a little drip into your underwear. It had been a long while since you were attracted to anyone in any way, and somehow, after just a few moments with that man you knew practically nothing about, you felt your heart beating faster just thinking about him. But when you opened your eyes, coming back from your mind to notice the woman still holding your hand, you realized it wasn't just him.

You also liked her, the way she touched you, kissed you, how confident she was, how she made you feel both small and comfortable at the same time. You had never questioned your sexuality, never really considered yourself one or the other or anything else for that matter (you had a boyfriend in high school, and girlfriends you'd play around with, but it was never as intense and eye-opening as whatever you were experiencing right now).

It was all new and exciting, and knowing you had the attention of a beautiful woman and a handsome man was just mind-boggling to you. It felt like a dream, and not even the throbbing pain still coursing through your body seemed to be able to wake you up from it.

At the end of it all, you sat in the car again, next to Mommy, who still held your hand. After getting a new haircut (only a little trim), she'd taken you to the nail salon, and together you chose a subtle pink for your nails. They remained short and natural, but it felt so much better knowing they added to the overall transformation of your once neglected body. You did feel like a new person, a new girl, a young woman, ready to begin a new chapter of her life.

The trunk of the car was full of bags, filled with dresses and skirts, blouses and shirts, sweaters and cardigans, socks and tights and a variety of shoes, all of it girly, elegant, but also comfortable and chic, a whole closet full of things that only fit you. Buying underwear was another ordeal with Mommy, but in the end she found you beautiful pieces, ranging from cute and modest to really extravagant and barely covering anything.

And you felt good seeing yourself in them, confident despite all those areas you didn't particularly like – because apparently there was underwear that didn't have to be too loose or too tight, like the ones you'd bought before, the cheap ones. These new ones hugged your body like a second skin, accentuated the good parts and hid the bad ones, making you feel so much better about yourself.

During your shopping trip, Mommy bought you lunch and later a milkshake, walking with her hand around yours. While she did most of the talking, small talk mostly that you appreciated very much, you felt more and more at ease with her. Yesterday she'd been a stranger, and now, she was your Mommy, someone who took care of you, who laughed with you, who made you feel comfortable.

When the car returned to the mansion, the adventures of the day weighed you down more than you thought. You were tired, still a little sore from the waxing, but overall you were happier than you'd been in ages. Mommy helped you out of the car and pulled you towards the entrance door, while the driver started carrying all those bags into the house. In the kitchen, you were met by a delicious smell, and a large frame that made your heart beat faster.

“You've returned,” Daddy greeted you (looking so incredibly handsome in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up over his strong forearms), putting down a dish towel before he approached you. Mommy let go of your hand and gave you a gentle nudge that you didn't really need, because in the next second you had fallen against the tall man's chest, your arms tight around his waist. “Aww, did you miss Daddy, baby girl?” he cooed, embracing you just as tightly.

You mumbled your confirmation against him, closing your eyes as you just leaned into him, no longer wondering why it felt so easy to be this close to these people. It just felt right. The way they looked at you, treated you, paid attention to you, all the trouble they went through for you. It was special, and you embraced it by embracing them, knowing how easy it was to please them with just a few words and a few simple displays of affection.

Eventually, he leaned you back by holding your shoulders, his eyes wandering over your flushed face and your bouncy new hair. His fingers stroked along your tresses, twirling the ends playfully. “Looks really good on you,” he told you, and you smiled shyly. “You're even more beautiful now, sweet girl,” he added quietly as he bent down to press his lips against your cheek.

You squirmed away with a soft giggle when he nuzzled your jaw, his hands roaming down your body to tease at your ribs. You fell into a full-on laughing fit when he continued tickling you, digging his fingers into your sides, while his teeth grazed along your pulse, your own hands grasping helplessly at his forearms.

“What a sweet sound,” he breathed against you before he stopped and grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly until his arms rested just beneath your rear, holding you up. You put your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with your cheeks aflame and tears burning in your eyes, still smiling at him. “My sweet little pumpkin.”

You scrunched your nose at the nickname, making him grin even wider at you.

“Can I call you pumpkin, sweet girl?” he asked quietly, shifting you on his arms.

You considered it, wondering how he even got to calling you that, but then couldn't find a reason for him not to call you so. It did sound rather nice. “You can call me anything you want, Daddy,” you whispered breathlessly, your heart beating even faster.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, biting your lip. He turned you both around then and sat you down on the counter, leaning on his arms as he caged you in. His face was inches away from yours, his hot breath ghosting your lips. You watched him with growing anticipation, that tension in your stomach intensifying with every rapid heartbeat. He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours, his eyes boring into your own, so intense, so hungry, and he tilted his head, your lips parted in preparation –

“So what's for dinner?” cut Mommy's voice through your special moment.

Daddy closed his eyes and leaned back slowly, exhaling loudly. You watched him, still holding your breath, your hands curled tight around the edge of the counter, your knees pressed together so hard your legs were trembling. He brushed his hands over your thighs, fingers teasing between them only for a second before he was gone, stepping away to the other side of the kitchen island, while Mommy took his place in front of you.

You saw them exchanging a long gaze, something dark glinting in Mommy's eyes. Her hands found your knees, and without looking at you, she forced them apart with a strength you hadn't expected from her. Gasping softly, you stared at her, and when her hands disappeared under the skirt of your dress, you stiffened. She looked back at you then, her eyes as intense as Daddy's had been.

“Girls Day isn't over yet, sweetheart,” she whispered, tilting her head before she leaned closer, brushing her full lips against yours. Her fingers moved around your rear before they slipped under the waistband of your tights. Your heart skipped several beats as she started pulling them down, and you squirmed on the counter, struggling between allowing her the motion and fighting it.

“You should give her a break,” sounded Daddy's voice from behind her, and when you looked past her as she lowered her head with a deep sigh, you saw concern and something else in his dark eyes.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Mommy whispered quietly, slowly turning around enough to look at him. Her hands were still halfway down your tights, her body wedged between your spread legs.

He stared at her, narrowing his eyes. “It's her first day, babe,” he said, the muscle in his jaw twitching.

She gritted her teeth, looking away until her suddenly cold eyes found yours. Your breath hitched in your throat. “But Mommy's hungry,” she muttered, licking her upper lip. You swallowed thickly, watching the exchange with bated breath, not quite understanding what was going on.

“Have dinner then,” he replied from behind her. “Greta made ravioli.”

Slowly, she slipped her hands from inside your tights and grabbed the waistband, shifting you back into them with a jerk. You gasped softly, scooting back on the counter. Then she gripped your chin and made you look at her. “Fine,” she said quietly. “Let's have dinner. I'll have you for dessert then, hm, sweet cheeks?”

She pulled you closer to her and smashed her lips against yours, inhaling deeply before leaning back again, letting go of you abruptly and stepping away, her heels clicking over the hardwood floor. And you sat there, on the counter, with your lips parted and trembling, confusion washing over you as you followed her with wide eyes.

Daddy extended a hand to you and, once you grabbed it hesitantly, helped you off the counter. Still holding your hand, he bent down to whisper softly: “Don't mind her, she gets cranky when she's hungry.” He winked at you then, squeezing your fingers.

You blinked up at him in even bigger confusion, but eventually you let it slide and let him pull you through the kitchen and into the dining room.

“By the way, I haven't asked before, so I told our chef to make something vegan. Do you eat meat, pumpkin? Do you have any allergies?” Daddy asked quietly as he pulled out a chair and motioned you to sit down.

“I, uh, I do, eat meat, I mean. And no allergies I know of,” you replied with a stammer, your legs still shaking a little.

“Good, that's perfect,” he mused and walked around you, sitting down at the head of the long table, while Mommy sat across from you, studying her nails.

Between you was a large plate covered by one of those fancy metal hoods, and when Daddy lifted it, a heavenly smell distracted you from the strange tension around you. There were three different types of handmade ravioli, big ones, not those tiny ones you'd eat straight out of the can, they looked so fancy and professional and delicious of all things, and when you listened to his explanation of which was which, you couldn't decide which one to choose, so you took one of each, earning you a little laugh from Daddy.

“That's a good appetite,” he praised, taking one for himself before he held out the prongs to Mommy. She turned her head to him, her eyes narrowed, and when she closed her fingers around his, you could see her knuckles blanching.

“Shopping makes hungry, you know?” she said pointedly, snatching the prongs out of his grip to put two ravioli onto her own plate.

He just sighed and lifted his fork. “Well, dig in, and again, welcome to your new home, pumpkin,” he added with a nod towards you.

You smiled shyly, nodding back. “Thank you,” you mumbled timidly, before you inhaled deeply, looking over the table to Mommy who seemed to poke at her food with quite the disinterest. “Really, thank you for everything, Mommy,” you said a little louder. “I had a great time today.”

She looked up then, her hard gaze softening immediately. Her hand reached across the table to brush against yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Me too, cariño,” she whispered, a small smile grazing her lips.

Seeing her relax again made your heart beat a little faster.

“Aren't you two the sweetest,” Daddy mused, his fork halfway up to his mouth. “Eat up now before it gets cold.”

Mommy pulled her hand away and focused back on her plate, ignoring Daddy's comment. You looked at him, feeling your cheeks burning up when he gave you another wink, before you turned back to your food as well.

Your mind was reeling from all the impressions of this single day. It was still something of a blur, a dreamlike experience, and occasionally a few doubts would poke through the cotton in your head, making you wonder when you'd wake up again. But you didn't. It seemed real enough. A real dinner, with real food, and real people. People who watched you, who offered you more, who reached out to scrape sauce off your cheek.

It had been twenty-four hours, and yet it felt as if you'd known these people way longer. The way they cared for you made it all so much easier. It was a dream, but a dream come true. And somehow you knew that there was a lot more on the horizon.

Chapter 3 🔷️ Chapter 4 🔷️ Chapter 5

End notes: Probably should have mentioned it earlier, but the whole waxing/makeover scene is only to show how Reader's depression made it impossible for her to take care of herself, it's not to shame anyone choosing to have body hair, because that is of course a choice. Please do not take offense in Mommy's ideals, she just wants to make Reader feel pretty in her own, slightly controlling way (that could be considered a bit dubcon if you squint, but really, Reader just isn't in a state of mind where she knows what she wants yet, so this is all some good-natured nudging).

Thank you for reading! New chapter every Saturday!

Up next: You are back in Daddy's arms, and he has his own special plans for you...

MASTERLIST 🔷️ AO3 🔷️ ORIGINAL WORKS

[liveontelevision]

Suffer Pt. 4 | Lucifer x Reader

The time has come, babes, this could be the final part

I wanna say this part is 18+ , so MINORS go away

(This series is complete! All parts are listed on my master list and are linked below!)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

♡♡♡

"I'll see you, Lucifer."

"I hope so."

Even with high hopes, Lucifer anxiously paces his own workshop, twisting his grip on his cane and watching the minutes pass by. Literally. He would either pull out his phone and check the time, or peak up at the novelty clock hanging nearby, and scoff at how little time has passed since the last time he decided to look. To occupy his time, he would rummage through his piles of squeaky creations, scanning over them as if he had anything on his mind other than you. He'd walk in front of a mirror, fixing his lapels, straightening his tie, then questioning whether or not he should just change entirely. With one more pacing lap around the small room, he stopped in front of the mirror again, while brushing his hair back with his claws. The sudden glimmer of his wedding band reflecting some light caught his attention. He froze in front of his reflection, then shifted his gaze down to his left hand. He twisted it around as if he never noticed it until now, even after wearing it for 10,000 years. Why is it bugging him now?

Oh, yeah. He was about to see you in just a few minutes.

But that shouldn't upset him, you two were becoming friends again.

Lucifer broke his gaze from his hand and looked towards the large family painting still hung on the wall. He couldn't take it down. He had no idea why Lillith left, for all he knows, it could've been a perfectly valid reason. But she looks so happy in that picture. In fact, they all looked so happy. How did that happen? A combination of the clock chiming, and an alarm he set the day before, going off at the same time made him jump. He fumbled his phone into his suddenly sweaty claws, letting out a nervous yelp. 

3:01PM

"Aw, Hell! I'm late!" Before snapping his fingers to open a portal to the hotel, he mindlessly slipped the ring off his finger and placed it carefully on his desk, leaving it alongside a family portrait.

— 

You hummed your usual tune, the same one that calmed you and young Charlie, as you twisted and turned to examine your outfit. You were almost as nervous as Lucifer was. Well.. not really. He was a wreck. But why should you be nervous? Why would he be nervous? You two only agreed to meet up at the hotel and.. catch up some more. No activities were really planned, it was as if you simply wanted to hear each other's voices again. As if the late-night calls you were having weren't enough. It was a nice change though. No matter how late you were talking to each other, you slept like a rock the rest of the night. No need for some silly radio anymore.

Speaking of,

"Alastor, what did I say about knocking? Or even going through the door in general?" You questioned out loud, not even looking away from your figure in the reflection. The radio on your nightstand suddenly started playing a barely recognizable old-timey tune, and you could feel the radio static sensation growing in your chest, so you felt no need to break your concentration to look his way. You heard your bed creek next, only peeking in your reflection for a moment to catch Alastor sitting cross-legged on the edge of your bed.

"Isn't today your weekly Rosie visit? What do you want?" It's not like he was bugging you, but recently Alastor had been keeping close quarters. You found him sitting next to you a lot, a little too close, during exercises. Which was strange, considering he never really attended exercises until recently.

Obviously, he's been inviting himself into your room without permission, which caused him to interrupt some phone calls with the king. He's also been inviting you out to Cannibal Town more often, and even bringing some unannounced fresh-cooked meals for you. You wouldn't admit to the cannibal thing, but it's hard to avoid it after working in that bakery for so long. You didn't mind it, as long as it wasn't.. rare. So, you suppose it was nice of him to cook for you. 

"Indeed! I’m assuming you'll be joining me, that is why you’re dressing so formally, correct? Rosie's been talking about you quite a lot, considering you've missed our last few outings." You could hear his teeth clench while he spoke his final words.

"All good things, I hope?" You had moved on to looking through a little jewelry box, occasionally pulling out necklaces and holding them up in the mirror to see how it'd look on you.

"Of course!" Alastor reassures, rising from the bed to stand behind you, his hands gently placed on your shoulders. He has to bend at the hips a bit to see his own face in the shorter mirror.

"Then, I'm sure she can handle one more lunch date without me. I'll join next time." You said, still rummaging through the little trinket box. With a victorious hum, you pulled out a little golden chain, with a snake charm that swirled into an S shape.

As you held it up to your neck, like you did with the rest, you felt Alastor's hands shift from your shoulders to take each end of the necklace, carefully pulling the chain around your neck to fasten it in the back. With a quick thank you, you pulled your hair to the side to assist him. His breath was hot against the back of your neck, sending an instinctive shiver down your spine. Alastor started to feel a bit flushed at the sensation, which surprised even him. The thought of sinking his teeth into the softest part of your neck, doing anything to keep your mind off of that damned angel, immediately flooded his mind. He fastened the necklace quickly, pulling away as fast as he could after that grotesque thought crossed his mind. He was sure that he was just hungry. He cleared his throat, stepping a good few feet away from you.

"So? How's this? Does it look okay with the dress?" Oh, it did. You tried your best to not concern yourself over what you wore, but Lucifer was always one to dress in his finest suits, so you'd hope to meet him at least halfway. Excuse the phrasing, but God bless Angel and his eye for fashion. You arrived in Hell before Charlie was even born, then essentially worked in uniforms up until you arrived in the hotel. Emphasizing that this was not a date, Angel found you a pretty little purple dress. It was perfectly fine as is, with thin straps, a skirt hugging your hips just slightly and stopping right below where your thighs meet. But he insisted you "spice it up", accessorizing you with a patterned corset, decorated in leafy designs and tied together with a silky ribbon at your back. It took you hours of convincing to even put it on for today. All this for just a hangout. What would you even do? Have dinner? Would Lucifer go into Pentagram City with you? What would happen if you stayed in the hotel? 

"Not exactly my style, I prefer something with more.. coverage. But you look lovely either way." Alastor's words broke your train of thought and you immediately turned red, embarrassed by how lost in your own thoughts you got. You recovered and rolled your eyes at him, finding your phone and looking through it.

"I don't know why I asked, it's not like I'm dressing up for you." You said, Alastor watching you as you swipe through something and then smile at your phone.

"Then who might you be dressing up for, might I ask?" He asked with a sly grin, leaning foward on his cane, craning his neck to look at your whatever could be making you smile so brightly. You pulled your phone to your chest and glared at him.

"No one! ..Me! I'm dressing for myself! Is there a problem with that, Al?" You let out a little humph, before checking the time on your phone.

"He should be here soon.." you said softly, almost hoping he didn't hear you. "Tell Rosie I said hi, will you? I'm seeing Lucifer today." You said quickly as you left your room, hoping you could avoid his response by leaving in a hurry. Luckily you did. You felt the static running through you soften as you went down the stairs, looking at your phone as you did. With one more mental pep talk, you took a deep breath and opened the hotel's double doors.

"Heyyyy! You!" Lucifer stood eagerly, without a ring to fiddle with, he toyed with his clawed hands behind his back. You should respond. You should greet him, say hi, welcome him in, anything. But he stood there wearing a plum and black purple blazer, that stopped just at his waist. It was fitted nicely over a ruffled black top and dark trousers. Before you could stop yourself, you realized you had let your eyes trace his body up and down. Quickly meeting his eyes with a reddened face, you nervously chuckle, stepping aside to let him in.

"S-Sorry.. I- uhh.. Hi. Lucifer." You finally greet him, shutting the door as he enters the hotel.

"You look nice. Purple always looked good on you." He stated out loud. Purple? When was the last time you wore anything purple? Looking around the hotel, he examined any detail he might have missed from his last visit. Of course, that wasn't what he was really doing. He was trying his hardest to keep his eyes off of you, needing to let his heart rate slow.

After finally calming himself down, he turns to you with a grin, opening his mouth to say something- but what he saw was you gripping onto the hem of your skirt with a nervous look on your face, your eyes wide.

Purple always looked good on you.

"Are you okay? Sorry, did I - uh.. should I - " you quickly step away from him, waving your hands.

"N-No! You're fine! I'm okay, I just uh.. dinner! You want something to eat? Or.. we can check out the city-" Desperately trying to take the topic off your feelings, you threw out some ideas for the night.

"Oh! Okay, Dinner sounds great! We should probably stay in the hotel, but will.. will anyone else be joining us..?" He looked around the clearly empty room.

"Charlie and Vaggie just left to try and recruit some sinners, Angel's working and Husk avoids people if no one's the bar, so.. I think that it might just be us." You smiled. Why were you smiling? Maybe because they're contagious. 

Alastor. The familiar grinning face comes trailing down the stairs, greeting you and you alone.

"Oh! Your Highness, I had no idea we'd have company!" He walked behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders again as he looked down at Lucifer.

"Al, I told you he was coming by." You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. Lucifer glared, immediately breaking the contact from him to look at you.

"Will he be joining?" Lucifer asked, in an agitated low tone.

"No, he's busy. Right? You were just leaving for Cannibal Town." You stressed, turning your head to look up at the towering demon. Lucifer wondered how you weren't intimidated by him? Your head barely reached the center of his chest.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to intrude! Just be careful with our little doll here, your majesty." He says, then leans closer to the crook of your neck. "And I thought I'd bring your cardigan, dear, it's a tad cold today." The sweater suddenly appears in his hands and he drapes it over your shoulders. It felt heavier than usual.

"Oh, um.. thanks.. Al." You clear your throat, shooting him the best smile you could muster in this embarrassing moment.

"Have fun with Rosie!" You finally said, essentially pushing Alastor out of the hotel's doors. None of that had to happen, he could've easily phased his way out of the hotel and you knew that. With a final sigh, you went back to Lucifer, taking off the sweater and folding it, before draping it over the couch in the lobby.

"What, not cold anymore? He was just trying to be nice." As much as you'd like to hear that as a joke, it had a sense of discomfort to it. You knew Lucifer didn't like Alastor; he made that clear multiple times. Considering he's been so kind to you though, you thought you had to at least try to defend him. But with Alastor's recent actions, and just how.. touchy... he's been, it's getter harder to try and explain his actions.

"It's Hell, Lucifer, it's never cold. It doesn't go with the dress anyway. Now, c’mon. I can make something quick in the kitchen." Trying to move past the subject, you take hold of his hand and guide him to the kitchen area.

You definitely cooked a lot more since you stayed in the hotel. Despite your mild cannibalistic tendencies, you loved making regular, flesh-free, food for everyone else. It was just who you are, you loved to dote. At this point, you were making meals for everyone, cooking specific courses for certain demons. Specializing in their favorites. It was no different than how you were when you were taking care of Charlie. A messy toddler had a constantly changing appetite, and Lucifer always seemed to admire how well you could keep up with that. I mean.. despite kissing a married king, who was also your boss, you were actually good at your job.

The cooking process went by fast, you put on an apron before starting to cook, which Lucifer could argue looked adorable on you. But he would never admit it. He simply sat on a nearby counter, his legs crossed over each other as he leaned back on the palm of his hands. You recreated something that used to be a favorite back at the manor, and of course, it was delicious. The two of you didn't even make it to the table. You plated everything and went towards the door, but before you could leave, you turned to see Lucifer already working on his plate as he sat on the counter. You laughed at him, before attempting to join his side. This was probably for the best, sitting at a table while eating seemed so.. Date-y.

You struggled to hop up to the counter without flashing anyone. Dammit, Angel. With a quick motion, Lucifer had his hands on your waist and he lifted you with ease onto the cold tabletop. With a nervous exchange of thanks, he hikes back up the counter and sits next to you. It felt ridiculous to examine the entire moment. Here you are, sitting on the edge of the damn kitchen counters with Lucifer, kicking your legs every now and then, laughing at jokes and just.. enjoying everything. He made you glad you lived in Hell.

The plates now set aside, Lucifer had turned to face you, his crossed leg lightly brushing against yours as he recalled some embarrassing things that Charlie did when she was growing up. Things that happened after you left.

"Oh it was bad, we don't even know what she used to dye her hair but it was not easy to get out. You know.. Teenager stuff, I guess." He showed off some images from his phone, making you lean into his shoulder to catch a better glance. You found yourself leaning past Lucifer, your sides fully together at this point. Lucifer braces himself up with his hand behind your back. When you finally had enough of the pictures of Charlie in her emo-phase, you sat straight, making Lucifer's arm shift to the small of your back. You hummed quietly at his touch.

Don't do this. Don't ruin this, not again.

"Dishes! I'll um.. let me clean up and we can find somewhere with actual chairs.." You hopped off the counter, stumbling a bit before leaning into the sink and starting the water. Before you could even start scrubbing, the dishes simply poofed from your hands and into the drying rack at the side of the sink, sparkling clean.

"Oh, right.. Angelic powers." You laughed nervously, looking around the room for a moment.

Finally deciding that the air was too thick with some kind of tension, you gestured him out of the room and showed him off to the small book room. You didn't go in here often, but it was either this or your bedroom.. Obviously, that wouldn’t end well.

Taking a seat on the little sofa in the room, you managed to get the conversation back on a regular topic, complaining about some customers you used to deal with while working in Cannibal Town. He finally went on a rant about his rubber duck fixation, which baffled you but didn't really surprise you.

The conversations didn't last long. It was bound to happen. Alone in the hotel? Catching up after all these years of built-up tension? It started with Lucifer placing his hand on the small of your back, something that has always given you butterflies. It didn't feel the same when Alastor would do it. Lucifer's hands were obviously smaller, but they were so gentle. And he had no intent on pulling you closer or keeping you sitting upright, he was doing it just so he could touch you. Your hands had traveled in between the two of you, supporting you as you leaned into him. The room was silent, but your thoughts were screaming in your head. He's hurt you before. He's just been alone for too long, this isn't anything special. Don't make the same mistake.

Staring into each other's glazed-over eyes, unsure of how to proceed but unwilling to move away, he finally bites the bullet. Raising his free hand to caress the side of your face, brushing a few strands of hair away, you place your hand overtop of his, relishing in his gentle touch. You felt his hand flinch a bit at your actions, but when you fluttered your eyes shut and leaned into his palm, he immediately felt at ease. He moves his hand towards him just slightly to better bring you closer. Your foreheads now pressed together, all your concerns went away. This wasn't like before. You felt so safe with him, there was no fear of things going wrong or being ruined. Not anymore. Not at this moment. Your comfort was disrupted by his quiet voice.

"A-Are you sure about this.? Can I.. Maybe we should just-" Shut him up. You muffled any other worried thoughts he might have by placing a gentle and quick kiss on his lips. His eyes widened just for a moment, looking surprised despite all that's happened beforehand. Suddenly desperate, he pulls you in, making your lips meet again in a long, long, overdue embrace.

You were just as desperate for this. All you could think of was how gentle he was being, even with the eagerness of his quickening breath. You leaned in more, forcing Lucifer to prop himself up with his hand beside him. You kept leaning. At this point he's taken both his hands off of you, needing to brace himself up. Your lips never pull apart. You placed your hands on his chest, moving underneath his jacket, and onto his shirt, just to be even the slightest bit closer to him. Suddenly processing the position, Lucifer shifted his leg to allow you to crawl closer to him. You were careful, you knew this was long overdue, but it'd be a bad idea to do anything too intense right now. It would overwhelm both of you. Still, finally breaking your kiss, you pushed back to assess his beautiful expression. He looked disappointed. Almost runny eyes, he was propped up by his elbows while you kelt your hands placed on his chest. His porcelain skin contrasted with the red glow across his cheeks.

"You okay, Lucifer?" You asked softly, reaching a hand to brush some strands of hair back into place. He only nodded, before returning a hand onto your back and pulling you on top of him, deepening the kiss you had so rudely interrupted. You felt his hand pull away for a moment, and heard him snap his fingers. You heard the door shut. Then you heard it lock. That made you as nervous as it did relieved. Pulling away for a moment you decide to tease him.

"What, you couldn't have done that before?" You said slyly with a smirk on your face. With a sarcastic laugh, he pressed a kiss onto your smile. Neither of you could believe what was going on right now.

Both your breaths were becoming heavy, Lucifer had scooted to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he pulled you closer and rested his hands around your waist. Neither of you had made the decision to go any farther than enjoying each other's lips yet, but at the same time, you wouldn't complain about staying connected to him like this forever. He reached back and tugged on the silky ribbon of your corset, maybe not as an invitation, but to find something to fiddle with to keep his nerves at bay. You weren't sure. But there was no harm in assuming, right? You took hold of his hand, which still held one of the laces, and guided it to pull it completely loose. It wasn't covering anything, it just loosened the fit of your dress. It wasn't like you were stripping for him. But his face was absolutely flushed by the action.

Letting the corset belt drop to the ground, you leaned forward and ran your hands up his chest. Moving to the inside of his coat, you slipped your fingers over his shoulders to guide the jacket off of him. With some more shifting and adjusting, you both sat straight. Lucifer found himself dragging his lips to your chin, then your jawline, guiding your head to tilt back for easier access. Pulling your body against his with one hand, he cradled your head with the other, running his claws gently across your scalp before doing so. The action sent shivers down your spine, almost a relieving sensation to your hot skin.

He speckled kisses down your neck, taking his time to cover every inch of you. You could feel his labored breath against your skin every time you let out a little moan or hum. He ran his hand down your shoulder, hooking the strap of your dress with his thumb and moving it aside, careful not to undress too much. Not yet. With the newfound space, he nipped at your skin, making you yelp quietly. You quickly place a hand over your mouth, embarrassed by the sounds coming from you. Lucifer was not going to let that happen. He traced your arm, running his fingers along your skin, and gently pulled your hand away from your mouth.

"W-What - " You could barely question him, before he forced another yelp from you, sinking his teeth into your shoulder just a bit deeper this time. He hummed at your finally unmuffled voice, taking your hand that he had been holding and guiding it to his head. You immediately took hold of his hair, gripping just lightly, something to keep you from floating away, while he continued to work across your collarbone. Feeling a light suction, you gasped and yanked on his hair, pulling his face away from your chest.

"N-No, no marks! Don't be.. mm... s-stupid.." you scolded, as he leaned down, and ran his tongue up the length of your neck.

"What if I put them somewhere only I can see?" He had moved to your ear at this point, kissing the crook of your jaw as he spoke so sweetly against your skin. Ooh, fuck, you wanted that. Bad.

You took a hold of his jaw and pulled him back up to your lips. Placing your thumb along the bottom of his lip, you opened his mouth a bit, inviting yourself into his mouth. Tracing his lower lip with your tongue, you slid inside, his tongue feverishly following suit. The sensation forced a quiet whimper out of Lucifer, you felt his body weight droop for a moment, falling forward and pushing you onto your back. Caging you in with his arms, he refused to pull away, even if he needed to breathe.

You pushed his chest slightly, and he immediately pulled away, his lustful gaze turning to concern. You watched him catch his breath. While he was panting, you could see his forked tongue just slightly hanging from his lips, which were glossy from the messy and desperate kisses you'd been exchanging. You looked up and down his body for a second. Keeping your hands on his chest, you smoothed over his shoulders, before pulling him back in for another kiss. With your hands still near his chest, you reached towards the clasps of his shirt, beginning to work the expensive feeling fabric off of him. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. You ran your closer hands across his bare chest, once completely undone. He was overheated and panting, you were just helping him, obviously. You'd say anything to convince yourself that what your doing was okay. Why wasn't it okay, again?

"It's okay, babe, we'll try again later." A saddened groan was muffled through the closed door. Oh. Right. You heard Vaggie comforting a frustrated Charlie just outside the room. You both looked at each other with widened eyes, probably for longer than you should’ve. It was a mixture of disappointment and anxiety. And a little bit of consideration, that maybe they won't check the room if you're quiet. The set of footsteps was coming closer, possibly passing the room to go up the stairs, but it finally forced you out of your head.

You pushed him off of you, desperately making as much distance as possible. The motion of pushing him from his chest, which your hands were so sweetly caressing moments before, took the air out of his lungs, forcing out a loud groan. Hushing him as if you weren't the reason he was wheezing, you struggle to get your corset back on. Finally giving in, you threw it over the back of the couch and took hold of your trusty sweater that was still draped over the back of the couch. You scrambled to put it on. Lucifer simply snapped his fingers to fix up his hair and return his suddenly clean and crisp top back on him. You also heard him unlocking the door.

"Fucking angelic magic.." you muttered, out of breath from your little frantic display. He lets out a cocky chuckle. Taking the risk, he pulls you in for one more quick kiss. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment, his eyes absolutely sparkling just at the sight of you.

His hand slipped away quickly once the door opened.

"Holy shit- dad?? You didn't tell me you were visiting!" Charlie held onto the handle as the door was opened, Vaggie stood beside her looking just as confused. Before you could acknowledge it, Lucifer gestured to the little coffee table in front of the couch, with some random board game sprawled out on it. When did that get there?

"Heyy Sweetie- well, I-I uh.. we were just catching up, ya know, playing some games. The.. usual.." He grinned nervously, picking up some random game piece and observing it like he knew what it was for.

"Yeah, don't worry Charlie, I'm kicking his ass." You said smoothly, smiling at him when he turned towards you with a glare. You were definitely better at acting casual than he was.

"Oh! Well.. okay, then! Maybe we can all get a game in before you go!" Charlie planned out, already walking off. Lucifer sent a sweet smile and a little wave to Vaggie. She returned the greeting, a comforted smile on her face as she followed after Charlie.

"Well! That was-" Lucifer turned to you with a nervous expression, scratching at the top of his hand.

"- A close call?" you said through some chuckles, "but.. good. It was good." You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile you couldn't shake off. You looked at him nervously fidgeting with his hands, your eyes widening at the sight of his ring-less finger. Blinking a few times, thinking that maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, you couldn't stop yourself from turning red.

"Just good? I'm offended, sweetheart, I thought I did a pretty amazing job there." He boasts, crossing his arms across his chest. Jokes were another coping mechanism Lucifer used often. But you weren't caught up on that.

Sweetheart. You sucked in your lips to hold back a ridiculously wide grin.

Awkwardly clearing his throat when you didn't respond, he clasps his hands together in his lap.

"Sooo.. what now..?" He asked sheepishly. He sounded nervous asking that. You took a hold of his hand and kissed his knuckles, before standing and taking him along with you.

"Now, we have to play some random board game with Charlie. That's your fault, by the way." He laughed after letting out a sigh of relief, following behind as you left the room.

Things were really looking up after that. The board game was awful, and you had to avoid eye contact with Lucifer the rest of the night, the sight of him turning you red immediately. His lips were all over you literal minutes before this, yet he’s acting much calmer than you. It almost frustrated you. Charlie even asked if you were feeling sick at some point. What a fucking nightmare.

Besides that, the unavoidable tragic events proceeding with the extermination day came and went. You did everything in your power to defend the hotel alongside Charlie and your newfound family. During the battle, you found yourself getting distracted by Lucifer's little fight with Adam. It's not like Adam wasn't getting a few hits in, but Lucifer seemed completely unphased. Sometimes you forget. You've seen him as a nervous, loving father, with a habit of making too many ridiculous jokes, but at the end of the day, he was powerful. He was more powerful than anything else in this realm. It was kinda hot..

A spear flying by your head snapped you out of your thoughts, and you groaned, simply embarrassed by your own mind.

The construction of the hotel went the same, he was creating endless materials amd assistance for the crew and you couldn't help but appreciate his strength and abilities. You assisted Charlie to keep your mind from thinking about Lucifer's teeth sinking into your shoulder or how smooth and warm his bare skin felt underneath your hands. But you found yourself chatting it up or helping Lucifer with some tasks every now and then.

Still, you had your fun during the process, sneaking off every now and then to "recharge". A single kiss on the cheek gets this man going, but you kept it at that. You weren't willing to risk any more run-ins.

Finally, the renovations were nearly finished, you were walking the halls just looking for any little things that may need to be cleaned up before you were meant to meet outside for the finale touches. Humming and scanning the area for any debris, you were stopped in your tracks feeling a fuzzy static sensation. It didn't feel like Alastor's usual presence, it was uneven and wavering. You looked around, finally finding him leaning against a wall with a hand clutched over his chest.

"Holy shit- Al! We thought you died, what happened?Oh my god, are you hurt? I mean everyone's gonna be relieved that you're okay, but we have to get you patched up soon or-" you rushed towards him as you spoke, watching a new pocket of blood seep through his coat. Attempting to reach for the wound, his hands came to your shoulders, Holding you with a bruising strength.

"A-Al, that hurts.." you gripped his wrists, attempting to pull him off of you.

"I hate to do this, love, but it appears I'm desperate. In exchange for my silence, you said you owe me one. Now, do me a favor. Stay away from that pompous king." Before you could say  anything else, a whirring green smoke encased you both, finalizing the deal.

"What? Hold on, what did you do? Alastor, what's going on?" You questioned him desperately as he released his hands from your shoulders.

What just happened?

"Hm. Don't make such a fuss, I'm just helping you. Unless I'm forgetting, I'm quite sure he did something to hurt you in the past. So it's probably for the best to keep your distance. Ah! I believe they're looking for us, outside, dear! Shall we?" Alastor brushes off his suit, covering the stain with his overcoat and suddenly dropping the injured act. He hooks your arm into his and the two of you melt away into the shadows before you could protest to anything that just happened.

♡♡♡

lmao jk there's more parts coming

( Just an extra extra note, it honestly takes me awhile to write, I usually work on it piece by piece over a few days, then it takes me a day or two to finish editing it, plus it all depends on what's motivating me that day :') PLEASE keep sending more requests and I really appreciate everyone who has already sent one in being so patient )

!Taglist! (Some of the blogs aren't tagging and I have no idea why if anyone knows why please lmk :,)

( @vififofum @thornwolfy235 @tinywolfiegirl @chipper-chip @bat-boness @misfitgirlwrites @nayomi247 @lonelynmisunderstood @escapistoftherealworld @b4ts1e @hamthepan @kyo-kyo1 @looking1016 @polytheatrix @littledolly2345 @lillianastuff @yourlocalcryptidbee

@0strawberrysorbet0 @themageofblood @jayyyayaysblog @floralsightings @azmosposts @8har0ley8 @actuallyspiderwoman @sirenetheblogger @christineblood @kaytemchugh @cimadreamer @simpdevil66 @azmosposts @m3ow1 @acrazyartist @redfoxwritesstuff @4k1to @meesachan @corvusskid @alientee @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @alon3lylov3r @sapphireravensworld @phamtasic @mjmdragons )

[matts-girlfriend]

It’s You I Welcome Death With- Chris Sturniolo

TattooArtist!Chris and MakeupArtist!Reader

chapter 9

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

warning this series will contain, substance abuse, angst, arguing,tension,swearing, mentions of absent family, blood, abuse (not from chris). smut, oral, this is a warning for all chapters

Boston air was different.

It was louder, colder, smelled like cigarette smoke and... gas? The streets buzzed with people who looked like they didn’t have time to breathe, and somehow it felt kind of perfect. You hadn’t said much the whole drive. Chris didn’t either. But when Nick announced—half-laughing, half-panicking—that the hotel had only two rooms booked instead of the three originally planned, something shifted.

“Not it,” Matt said immediately, arms crossed.

Chris gave him a side-eye. “Don’t act like you weren’t gonna snore all fucking night anyway.”

Matt scoffed. “I’m not rooming with you. Not after what you said about Madi.”

You looked at Nick, then Chris, then Matt. “It’s not a big deal, I can share with either of you—”

“No,” Matt cut in, awkward now. “I mean—no offense, but like… my girl’s not about me sleeping in a room with other girls.”

You nodded slowly. “Right.”

Nick looked between everyone. “Guess it’s you and Chris, Y/N.”

You gave a short, nonchalant shrug. “Fine with me.”

But when you got to the room and opened the door, it wasn’t fine.

One bed.

Just one.

You blinked, froze, stared. Chris walked in behind you like it was nothing, tossed his bag onto the floor, then looked at your face.

“What?” he asked, trying to hide his smirk.

You turned around slowly. “There’s one bed.”

“Damn. Hope you’re not a kicker.”

You frowned. “I’ll take the couch.”

“There is no couch,” he pointed out, pulling a blunt from his pocket and lighting it like it was the most casual thing in the world. “And sweetheart, I’ve literally had my tongue inside you. You think sharing a bed is gonna break you?”

Your mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “You’re disgusting.”

He blew smoke in your direction. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, dropped your bag by the wall, and ignored the fact your chest felt tight. “Whatever. I’ll sleep on the edge.”

Chris smirked. “I won’t bite. Unless you ask nicely.”

⸻

The shoot was chaos.

Lights flashing, people scrambling, stylists panicking. You were in your zone, though. Liner perfect, lipstick sharp, foundation blended like second skin. You were fixing up one of the models—tall, sculpted jawline, piercing eyes—who had definitely been flirting for the last ten minutes.

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked with a smile.

You snorted. “That’s your opener?”

“I’ve got better ones,” he grinned, and you smirked, amused by the confidence.

You leaned in to adjust his jawline contour. “Mmm, maybe save it for a real date.”

“Is that your way of saying yes?”

Before you could answer, a voice cut in.

“Hey. Fuck off.”

You looked up to find Chris, standing behind the model with that familiar annoyed tilt to his head.

“She’s here to work.”

The model raised his brows. “Woah. I was just talking—”

Chris stepped forward. “And I’m just saying. Fuck off.”

You stared at him. Blinked once. Twice. Then turned slowly back to your kit.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” you said, not looking at him.

Chris didn’t respond. Just scoffed and walked off, muttering something under his breath that you didn’t bother to catch.

⸻

Later, after everything was wrapped and people were winding down, you were packing up your brushes when you saw him.

Chris.

Outside by the loading dock, laughing with one of the models. Her. Tall, flirty smile, perfect bone structure.

You weren’t mad. You weren’t even surprised.

But the way he was looking at her? Yeah. It kind of stung.

You didn’t say anything. You just grabbed your stuff and started heading toward the hotel room, jaw tight. You felt footsteps behind you a block before he said anything.

The second the hotel door clicked shut behind you, you turned.

He was right there.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, voice low but sharp.

You raised a brow. “What was what?”

“With that guy. You were letting him feel you up with his eyes.”

You crossed your arms. “Oh, you mean the same way you were eye-fucking "Barbie" outside?”

Chris stepped forward. “That’s different.”

You scoffed. “Right. Because you’re allowed to flirt but I’m not.”

He didn’t answer.

You shook your head, walking past him, tossing your stuff onto the desk. “Forget it.”

He moved fast.

Hand on your wrist, eyes burning into yours.

“Why’d it bother me so much?” he muttered. “Why’d it feel like I was about to punch that guy?”

You stared at him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

Neither of you moved.

Neither of you spoke.

And then—

His hand was on your cheek.

And he kissed you.

Hard.

Like he was trying to drown in it.

Your breath caught, but you kissed back. Like it was the only thing tethering you to the ground.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was messy. Hungry. Fingernails digging into fabric. Breath caught in your throat. Chris walked you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed, and then you were falling into it, tangled in each other, still kissing like the world was on fire.

He didn’t break it.

Not until minutes later when something flickered in his eyes.

And suddenly he was pulling back.

Breathless.

Eyes wide.

“Shit,” he whispered, standing up. “Fuck. I—I shouldn’t’ve—fuck.”

“Chris—”

“I gotta go,” he said, grabbing his hoodie and bolting for the door.

He didn’t even look back.

And just like that, the room was silent.

And you were left staring at the ceiling.

Heart racing.

Wondering what the fuck just happened.

a/n: finally damn

taglist:

@courta13 @m4gz-png @lezleeferguson-120

@h3arts4nat @izzylovesmatt @sturnioliolo @hsemeria @sturniqloo

@venusbabysblog @chrisslut04 @crazy4weeed @chriscokewhore @chrisswaffles @urfavvvnyasee @sturnzluv @freshluvr @mattthemunchh @poolover123 @pleasantdelusionbear @carpentersturns @emosexyvirgin @emillionaireee @shamelessmilkshakefest @xoxochrissgf @sturniolodollx @joyfulheartwhispers @cutseylady @oopsiedaisydeer @steph1106

@laylaluvsu2000 @lvrsturniolo @chloe444 @yamommmasman @55sturn @whenlovesaround @luvs-booksss @vampyyluv @snowysosturn @moth-feeet @mx7ka @amb-3-r

[acaaai-t]

proud of you

[gn! reader x modern au! alhaitham]

cw: hurt/comfort, fluff, slight angst, toxic friendship situation, cursing, not proofread

“You should’ve told me this earlier,” her voice was sharp, demanding.

You sighed in frustration, running your fingers through your hair. “I said I’m sorry, it’s my fault that I fell asleep too early last night.”

“Even so you could’ve told me earlier before you went to sleep that you weren’t going through with it instead of telling me like what—6 hours ago?” she was sounding more and more agitated as the words flowed out her mouth.

“Look—” you took in a deep breath and set the phone to speaker mode. “Yes I am acknowledging that I am the shitty person here for canceling last minute, but you can’t blame me for you choosing to not set an alarm.”

“I chose to not set an alarm because you told me you’ll be coming over today!”

You closed your eyes and sat down on your couch, leaning back into the cushion. Her voice was making your head hurt.

“That cannot be my fault. You choosing to not set an all arm was ultimately your choice. You were well aware that it’s not even the weekends yet, and you still have class the next day.”

A bitter groan trailed from your phone. “But then again you should’ve said something last night! I even messaged out four times about it and told you to call me when you have it figured out. You quite literally had all night to reply to me.”

This is getting out of hand. “I am apologizing to you for not replying to your message on time, however you did text me at 12 in the morning, and I was already asleep by then.”

Knock knock.

You looked up, and Alhaitham stood there leaning against the doorframe, a questioning look on his face. One moment, you mouthed.

“You’re a horrible friend.”

You froze, words caught in your throat. Alhaitham seemed to notice your body tense up and hurried over.

“I’m sorry what?” you said, unable to process what you’ve just heard. “I’m a bad friend?”

She scoffed on the other end of the line. “Yes, you’re a bad friend.”

Alhaitham placed a gentle hand against your arm. You muted yourself for a moment and turned to your boyfriend. “Give me a moment,” you said before grabbing your phone and rushing out the living room and into the bathroom.

“A horrible friend you say? Are we really going to go down that path?” you laughed. “You fucking hypocrite. You have zero—ZERO—rights to call me a bad friend when you’re the epitome of one. These four years I’ve put up with your annoying ass everyday. You think I don’t know that you and him have been talking shit behind my back for the last two years?”

Silence on the other end.

“Now I don’t give a shit if you’re listening or not, since you never do, but have you ever stop and wonder why the original friend group fell apart? Ever wonder why everyone else hates your guts? Find the common denominator. Ever since you and that bitch isolated Collei this entire dynamic was wrecked. You two are really the duo in the trio, the match made in hell. For fucks sake, you two are so fucking self-absorbed that you pushed everyone—and I mean everyone—who ever gave two shits about you. Not to mention,” you paused and took a deep breath.

“Not the mention how you two would clown on everyone else’s appearance when the two of you look like that. I don’t usually talk about the way people look but you two really gotta take a good look in the mirror before talking about others. You hide behind a face full of makeup and a shitty facade of a good studious girl, and he uses his narcissistic personality to defend himself. You two are the lowest of the low.”

“Wait—”

“No shut the fuck up and listen. I am sick, SICK, and tired of letting you two walk all over me. You made it look like I was always playing victim with my mental health—and you know what? You’d never understand because you grew up privileged enough that you never had to worry about the things I had to worry about. I don’t understand why you’d be so upset about missing a day of class when you quite literally skip every other day of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, gone, you show up for Thursday and disappear Friday. I can’t believe I put up with your ass for four years—four fucking years and hundreds—if not thousands—of mora gone and wasted.”

“Fuck you both.”

Your heart was racing with adrenaline as you hung up on her. It was quite the surprise that you didn’t stutter, not a single word while yelling at her. You sighed and returned to Alhaitham’s side, leaning your body against torso. He wrapped an arm around you and gently squeezed you.

“Feeling better?” he asked, voice soft.

“Yeah,” your voice cracked. It felt amazing lifting the weight off your chest, yet it had also left a hallow feeling inside your chest. Tears began to well up in your eyes. “I don’t know, I’m sorry I’m crying again.”

“Baby, it’s okay. You did it, you got rid of them,” Alhaitham whispered, pulling you closer. “I’m really proud of you.”

You couldn’t contain it any longer, tears streaming down your cheeks as you quietly sobbed. Four years wasted just like that, it hurts. Erupted over a tiny mistake you made.

“I know… I know…”

Alhaitham held you as you let your emotions run free, running his fingers through your hair as your cries turned into sniffles, and eventually into deep, rhythmic breaths. He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

He was really really proud of you for finally standing up for yourself. Watching them pick and prods at you hurts him, even when it wasn’t directly affecting him. Alhaitham couldn’t bear to see the hurt on your face very time you’d interact with them.

And now, they’re gone. For good.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— this was a watered down version of how I got rid of four year toxic friendship with two of the people who I once loved and cared for. Good riddance. I didn’t yell at them through the phone, though i really should���ve, but I did send them a 800 word text, and sobbed writing that. Thank goodness for my boyfriend and my close friend for getting me through that. The last two months were ROUGH.

© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate

[butterflybuckethat]

Stranger Places ✶ Part II

Part I - 🦋 Masterlist 🦋

Notes: Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader; Carmy finds you drunk in the bathroom of The Bear. (1.6k words)

Warnings: Slow burn

You cupped your hands against the glass windows of The Bear. This felt like a never-ending nightmare, as if Dante’s Inferno was set in Chicago, as if the sky had fallen and you were the only one still trapped on Earth. It took all of twenty minutes after you left last night to discover that you had lost your watch, but you couldn’t go back, not when you knew he was still there. You figured now, at 6:30am, was a reasonable time not to run into him.

The restaurant was spotless, no trace of the confetti or glitter you had attempted to dodge on your way out, and completely empty. If you had left literally anything else you owned you probably would have abandoned it but of course it had to be your watch, your most prized possession. So you went around back.

Sleepless nights were not uncommon for Carmy; plagued with recurring nightmares, the exhaustion often felt more tolerable. This was not the reason he didn’t go home last night. He couldn’t get you out of his head. 

He really didn’t know anything about you, not anything he could use to find you. Except for that name, Milly. 

As morally questionable as the White Pages are, they did prove useful. It turned out that there were very few Milly’s in the Chicago area under the age of 80; two, in fact. “Are you still there?” This was one.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” he said, juggling the duct taped landline and his pack of smokes. He had already been stuck in this conversation for fifteen minutes. He didn’t mind listening to her story, he had disrupted her morning after all; that is, until it turned into a pitch for Mary Kay. “I’m not really into makeup.”

“That’s alright sweetie. It has nothing to do with that.”

You froze as you rounded the corner to the back alley, there he was. You watched as he spoke into the phone, lit cigarette in his mouth. Even with the bags under his eyes and mussed hair, he looked great. You could always come back, you supposed, but there was something that pulled you toward him. A sense of familiarity, of attraction.

He nearly dropped the phone when he saw you, barely catching it as his posture straightened. You looked so different from last night in jeans and an oversized sweater. You were beautiful and fresh faced and Carmen felt a strange relief wash over him. You greeted him with a wave and a tight-lipped smile. 

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” he said.

“I lost my watch.” You held up your empty wrist as proof, sleeve pooling at your elbow, and he gestured for you to come inside. “You can finish your phone call.” It took him a second to understand what you meant.

“Oh shit!” A burst of laughter spilled from your lips and it swelled in his chest. “I gotta go,” he spoke into the phone and hung up without waiting for a response.

Carmen ignored the guilt he felt on his hands and knees as he “helped” you search for the watch, acting as if he hadn’t meticulously cleaned every inch of The Bear just a few hours earlier. The watch wasn’t there and he was stalling your journey towards finding it but he just needed more before he could officially let you go. He wanted answers, he told himself, to the convoluted mystery you seemed to be at the center of. That was all.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“Why do you need to know it?” 

His curiosity overrode your curt response, “I figure we’re trauma bonded now.”

“I traumatized you?” 

“Well, you certainly made an impression,” he teased, emboldened by the upward twitch of your lips.

You told him your name and he knew he would never forget it. 

You weren’t sure how he convinced you to stay for breakfast. Somewhere between his goofy smile and a twirl of your hair, you agreed. 

You could hear the steady chop of Carmen’s knife as you went to search the restroom. You hesitated at the threshold, dread flooding your system. 

 “Where did you get the name Milly from?” you asked, honestly just looking for a distraction. 

“It was the name your reservation was under.” You jumped, not realizing he was behind you. He must have noticed your apprehension because he wrapped his hand around the crook of your elbow, leading you away. “Your watch isn’t in there,” he confessed, explaining the nightly cleanings. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you sooner…” You analyzed his face, looking for anything malicious or dishonest, but found nothing but open sincerity. “I just- I just didn’t want you to leave yet.” 

Carmy, suddenly feeling very much like an open wound, went to check his quiche. He was almost hoping for a disaster, anything to distract from what a fool he’s been, but it was perfect. “I actually might have found Milly’s number, though!” He couldn’t help himself, grabbing the home phone from where he left it, he peeled up the post-it with the second name, Milly Walker, and began dialing. He could fix this for you. You might not find the watch, but at least he could give you some answers. The phone rang in his ear and he offered you a soft smile, putting it on speaker. 

You were growing increasingly nervous. There was something you weren’t saying. Ring! Ring! It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Carmen because, weirdly enough, you did. It’s just, you left all this behind. Ring! Ring! You could practically hear your therapist's voice asking why you even went out with Mark if that were true. Ring! Ring! Your lips parted. Ring! Ring! “I actually know who she is, Milly.”

“Hello?” You lunged at Carmen, trying to get the phone. You both fell, landline skittering away, batteries popped and rolling in opposite directions. 

“Do you think it hung up?” you whispered. 

“Yeah, I would say so.” His laugh was low and breathy. Butterflies bloomed in your chest at the realization of his proximity. “You’re beautiful,” he said. 

You tentatively touched his chin, trailing your fingers up his jaw. This was all so fast and way too good to be true. “You know nothing about me.”

“I don’t need to.” His voice was hoarse, eyes locked on your lips. You leaned in, prepared to set aside all your hurt and pain for just this one moment, and—

Ring! Ring!

You jumped, startled, away from Carmen and onto the linoleum floor. You stared at the phone, batteries still removed. “It’s alive.”

“We have another one,” Carmen said, amused, helping you stand. You followed him to the second phone, further into the kitchen, next to a bunch a hanging printouts of pastries and movie stills and more. 

You watched Carmen adjust his clothes and his hair as if the person on the other end of the line was going to see him. You giggled, only a little, and he gave you a sheepish smile in return. You didn’t really date anymore, not really, not since Mark. It was just too difficult, the awkward first dates, one night stands that never turned into more, the managing of trust issues… So you decided, no more dating just to date. If you wanted to be with someone then that was who you would be with—that was almost a year and a half ago and no one seemed worthy. But maybe Carmen was. 

Carmy picked up the phone, completely unable to tear his eyes from you. He still couldn’t believe you came back that morning, like that was a sign or something—not that he believed in things like that.

“The Bear. This is Carmen.”

“Ugh, thank god you called back.”

“Is something burning?” You whispered. Carmy furrowed his brows. The quiche!

“I’m sorry, who is this?” He was distracted, rushing to pull his slightly charred quiche Lorraine out of the oven. He covered the receiver, trying to mask your laughter. 

“I spoke to Natalie a couple weeks ago about catering my wedding rehearsal?”

What the hell? Since when did they do  catering? He poked you in the side before running to grab a pen and pad.

“My fiancé loved the pasta course so we were thinking that that could be the main focus, like elevated comfort food.”

“Okay, I made a note of that and will call back to confirm.” He was not going to agree to shit until he talked to Sugar. 

“Oh, don’t you want the date?”

“Uh sure, yeah.”

“It’s in two weeks, on Saturday.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Milly Walker.”

[holllandtrash]

long live | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader (epilogue to fragile line)

long live the walls we crashed through i had the time of my life with you long, long live the walls we crashed through how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

time passes and feelings may fade, but the memories never will word count: 7.7k (im so sorry) warnings/tags: time jumps like always, angst and heartbreak but it's not all sad this time, or is it?

four years later

“Daniel Ricciardo, 2025 Formula 1 World Champion, The Honey Badger,” James Hinchcliffe put his arm around the fellow commentator, “Tell us what you know.”

“What I know, Hinch,” Daniel repeated, taking a dramatic look up towards the clear sky. “What do I know?”

They didn’t need to act like they were friends for the camera, James and Daniel had grown close in a short time, ever since Daniel put down the helmet and picked up a microphone, Replacing the racing overalls with a suit and tie. He had the personality to be a motorsports commentator. No one was surprised when he was announced as Sky Sports newest reporter following his Formula 1 retirement. 

And James, a fellow retired driver himself from the IndyCar side, a Canadian with the humour and the banter that could keep up with Daniel, they were truly one of the best duos when it came to motorsports broadcasting.

They weren't often together, though. Daniel stuck to Formula 1. James was a regular for IndyCar. There were only a handful of races where they came together and the Indianapolis 500 was one of them. 

They were a comedic duo last year at the 2026 running, it only made sense to bring Daniel back again this year.

“Who’s your money on?” James asked. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started he had an answer. 

But he hesitated. 

Or, maybe froze was a better word. Daniel froze when he dropped his gaze from the sky and looked further down the pit lane. They didn’t plan on standing a few slots away from the number 6 car of Arrow McLaren, but that's where they found themselves.

Daniel froze when he spotted the familiar face sitting on the bench in the pit wall, looking at the data on the screens and nodding along with the engineer as he spoke. Daniel froze, because even though he knew exactly who was driving that car, he still wasn’t prepared for what he would do when he saw the driver.

When he saw you. 

You guys had agreed, long ago, that there would be no more interactions. That your careers, your lives, would be better if the other stayed as far away as possible.

Daniel knew that even now, four years later, he had no right to talk to you, to talk about you. He knew that at this point, it was for the best that ties were still cut, that the conversations didn’t happen. It had been over a year since your last interaction, he was in no position to change that. 

And he tried, desperately, over the years to follow the rules you agreed on. You as well kept your distance, you had to. 

But you were only human. There had been a few slip ups over the years.

For the remainder of the season, after the Austin race, you both had stuck to your word. You stopped giving the world the moments they were waiting for. You refused to interact with each other, you forced yourself to stop caring. 

It grew easier with time. The 2024 season was challenging in itself, but with Max and Daniel fighting amongst each other in a league of their own, you knew you couldn’t fight them in a McLaren. All you could do was make the most of what you had. 

Lando and you had a strong opening those first few races. McLaren was third in the constructors for a short time until other teams started to catch up, filling in the holes of their designs. 

You quite literally didn’t have time to care about Daniel when you were so focused on the rest of the grid, your actual competition. Ferrari, Mercedes, Aston Martin even. Your upgrades were no match with theirs and by the end of the season, it was disappointing to look back without a podium to reminisce on. Lando scored two, one in Spa, the other in Singapore. You did well, but not well enough to bring home a trophy.

2025 was…different.

In many ways. Firstly, the McLarens showed consistency as the season continued. You and Lando were always top contenders for points.  

Secondly, Daniel was giving Max a run for his money. He had a bit the year prior, but this season was far more competitive. You, like everyone else, was dying to see who would pull through and score that first place trophy at the end of the day, but you had to hide your desires for it to be Daniel. 

You still hadn’t spoken. You had successfully veered away from any accidental interactions. His name stayed out of your mouth and at this point, everyone on the grid knew there was a disconnect. You both had gone out of your way, this year and in 2024, to assure there would be no media appearances together, no driver conferences, nothing that the online world could twist. 

But you couldn’t do anything about still being happy for him. That would never go away. You would always want Daniel to succeed. You just couldn’t be watching the screens when he podiumed. You couldn’t go out with him and the others to celebrate. You couldn’t wish him a congrats in passing like Lando could if you were walking down the paddock. 

Daniel felt the same. While the love was gone, there was nothing he could do about those proud moments. He wanted you to make a name in this sport, to make history. He wanted you to be someone and even though he once wanted to be at your side while you planted your roots, he couldn’t.

Except that one time when he physically was at your side. 

There was a mistake in the media pen scheduling on that Thursday in Miami. From what you knew, Daniel was supposed to be in the press conference and you’d be one of the ten unlucky few that had to stand under the Miami sun in the football field, talking about how you were looking forward to this race when in reality you personally thought this was the worst race on the calendar. 

But it was too hot to complain about anything other than the heat and how you needed to change shirts as soon as the media pen segment was over because the breathable material of your papaya polo was anything but breathable.

You had barely stepped into the roped off circle to join the other drivers when you heard your name being called. Glancing over your shoulder, it took a second to realise that the call was coming from a young girl running in your direction. Her paddock lanyard flailing over her shoulder as she sprinted, one hand held onto her McLaren hat so it wouldn’t fall off.

“She can’t be here-”

“Piss off, she’s fine,” you weren’t even sure who you interrupted, but you didn’t give the risk of a reprending a second thought as you stepped forward to meet the young fan.

She was small, and you weren’t a professional when it came to guessing the ages of kids but you would put her somewhere in the range of six and eight. Maybe?

You knelt down to be more at eye level, “Hi darling, what’s your name?”

“Cara,” she answered, slightly out of breath. There was a gap in her teeth from where she must have just lost one, but it didn’t affect her grin at all. 

“Hi Cara,” you smiled at her, only then noticing she wore a shirt with your last name on it. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw an older gentleman running towards her. “Is that your dad?”

Cara looked and then nodded, but she didn’t care that she had completely abandoned him and given him a heart attack. “I saw you last year here. You finished fifth, my dad took me to watch. He says you- he says that you’re the only girl driver.”

“I am the only girl driver,” you confirmed, pouting slightly. You brushed your hand over her shoulder to smooth out the material of the shirt, “That should change soon, don’t you think? All of these boys need to be put in their place and I can’t do it alone.”

“I can join,” Cara suggested. The carefree optimism was a rare sight at one of these race weekends, but you admired it in Cara. She was too young to know the difficulties of being a female in this field and hopefully by the time she grew up, there were less walls for her to climb over, just doors to open. 

“You can join,” you nodded at the idea, laughing slightly, mostly because her dad had caught up to her and he was more out of breath than she saw. You smiled at him but looked back at Cara, “Do you race?”

“Yes!”

“No,” her dad answered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet, at least. We’ve signed her up for karting this summer, we’ll see how it goes.”

“I can already tell you’ll be a natural,” you told Cara. Watching her face light up was probably the most rewarding feeling you’d get all weekend. 

“I want to be like you. I want to win races, I want to win a championship!”

“You know what Cara, I can’t break every record, being the first girl driver. So I’ll save the championship one for you, how about that? I want to see you become the first girl to win the championship.” You gave her arm a squeeze and then stood up, turning your focus to her dad. 

He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and although you couldn’t make assumptions that he was single, the greying hair at a fairly young age and the bags under his eyes told you that he was mostly likely the main caretaker for Cara. 

“She’s got dreams,” you said.

He nodded, but smiled proudly, “That she does.”

You didn’t want to speak negatively about this industry in front of Cara, you didn’t want to crush her dreams, but you also didn't want her to grow up and be hopelessly disappointed either.

“It’s not easy for girls in this sport,” you told him. “But if she’s serious, if both of you are, look into working with Mary from Victory Speedway, located out in Tampa. She’s got contacts with F1 Academy as well. They’re goal is to make it easier.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, holding out his hand to shake. “And thank you for talking with Cara. Both of us are big fans, you truly are inspiring.”

You chatted for a bit longer, ignoring Oliver who was at your side reminding you that you had media duties. They could wait. A photo with the girl that seemed to be your biggest fan and maybe one day your predecessor, couldn’t wait.

No one really heard what you spoke about, the other drivers had their own obligations in the media pen. 

Daniel, though, he listened. 

He was standing right near the entrance when Cara had run up. He had watched you bend down to chat with her, making her a priority opposed to the reporters. He was less than two feet away as he overheard your conversation and when you turned around, ready to get the media day over with, you met his eyes.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t look away.

Daniel wanted to tell you he admired that conversation, the hope you installed in the young fan. He wanted to tell you that you made a great role model, for not just girls but all aspiring drivers. He wanted to say a lot of things to you.

He settled on a question, “You’re not trying to win the championship?”

This was the first time you had spoken in months and it wasn’t even in private. It was quite literally in front of cameras, reporters, people with audio recording devices and microphones. You opened your mouth slightly only to lock up, giving him an apologetic look because you both knew better than to be having any sort of interaction. 

You turned to face the first reporter, ignoring Daniel’s question completely. He just nodded to himself and walked to his own spot, keeping you in the corner of his eye. 

This young reporter, though, was also curious, having overheard what Daniel asked. 

“You’re not vying for a championship? Does Zak Brown know this?” He asked with a soft chuckle.

You shrugged and gave him a smile, “I mean, every driver's dream is the championship, but it’s not my goal currently. Your goals can, and should, be different than your dreams. And yes, Zak knows this, don’t you worry.”

“Your goal then, what is it?”

You inhaled, thinking to yourself for a second, “I’ve got a few and I have a good team supporting me while I work towards them. First would be to make as much history as I can, set as many records while I have a spot in Formula 1 and then I want to help other female drivers break them.”

“You want your records to be broken?”

“If it means getting more females into Formula 1, then yes.”

Daniel, who was in the middle of trying to listen to the reporter in front of him, smiled as he heard that. It was a very you response. He leaned forward, gripping the railing a bit because he completely misheard his own question and needed him to repeat it.

“And your other goal?” The young reporter asked you. 

Your lips curved into more of a devious smile, deciding to keep that one close to your chest. “Do you have any questions about the race this weekend? Or are you trying to write a biography on my life?”

Daniel was dying to know what it was too. He spent the rest of that media session racking through the memories of you, there were a lot, trying to think if you ever had that conversation. You must have, right? So why couldn’t he remember?

When all of you made your way out and back to the paddock, Daniel ignored the voice in his head telling him to just let it go. He completely drowned it out as he jogged up to your side, refraining from reaching out and brushing his hand over your elbow to grab your attention. Instead he just said, 

“Hey.”

You glanced up, instinctively stepping to the side as you walked to put more space between your bodies. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, pulling your eyes off of him and on the Red Bull motorhome that was coming up. This conversation would be short, he’d have to go back inside. You’d be fine for ten seconds, right?

“So what-” he cleared his throat. This shouldn’t have been awkward but it was. After so long of not even glancing at each other, there were new lines painted between you. Daniel didn’t know how to navigate them, and honestly, neither did you.

“Triple Crown, Dan,” you answered, knowing that's where he was going when he opened his mouth. 

The Triple Crown. Monaco. Indy 500. 24 Hours of Le Mans. 

He took a second to process that goal, not having expected it in the slightest. When he nodded, you could see the hurt in his eyes, only there was less pain and more distance. He didn’t know you like he thought he did.

“I never knew you were aiming for the Triple Crown.”

“You never asked.”

He had trained you, helped you become the best athlete you could be. He had introduced you to the right people. He acted as a mentor, but the conversations you had about racing were limited. There was a lack of communication in that sense because why bring work home with you? 

But that was the wedge driven between you. Had you talked about racing, contracts, your futures, you would have never found yourself in that McLaren contract scandal that ultimately broke you two up. 

He nodded, because what else could he say to that? You gave him a soft smile and told yourself to keep walking, to move to the other side of the paddock as Daniel headed into the Red Bull motorhome. 

You don’t interact again until Monaco. Daniel now knew winning this race meant more to you than others. Winning this would be one third of the Triple Crown checked off and as much as he was gunning for the podium, thankful for his P2 starting position, he saw that you were starting fourth and took a breath of relief. You had a shot.

Daniel wasn’t sure what came over him when he saw you in the paddock after qualifying. Maybe it was because you not completely shutting him down in Miami gave him a strange surge of confidence to approach you again, or maybe it was because he was ignoring all the voices in his head to just keep walking. Whatever it was, Daniel saw you chatting with a member of Sky Sports and as he walked passed, patted your shoulder in a congratulatory manner.

You paused whatever it was you were saying and turned in his direction, just in time to see him give you a smile and a thumbs up as he continued on his way. You returned it, but that small interaction had you stumbling over your words for the next two hours. 

Not because you were smitten, you were past that. You didn’t look at Daniel anymore and lose your train of thought, you didn’t get lost in a daze and allow everything else to fade around you.

But he didn’t seem to let go of you completely yet, and you could work with that. You could be civil. You could be neutral during race weekends, as long as it didn’t go further than the friendly smiles and minimal chats.

It shouldn’t have been hard to keep the conversations short, you hadn’t actually had anything meaningful to say to each other in over a year. When you ran into him after the race on Sunday, after he claimed the title of Monaco Grand Prix race winner for a second time, you should have just said congratulations and kept walking.

But Daniel saw you as he was propped up against the side of the Red Bull motorhome and then he stood up straighter, almost inviting you to walk up to him. There were no cameras around anymore, the majority of the paddock had gone home so you felt safer, sort of. If the world hadn’t lost their minds at the clip of him patting your back yesterday, you could talk to him now.

The Red Bull engineer he was with said his goodbyes and smiled politely at you as you approached, stopping at a safe distance.

“Another Monaco win under your belt.”

“So it seems,” Daniel tried his best to not look too proud of himself. You could see his dimples poking through. You wanted him to not be holding back, you missed his grin but gone were the days when he didn’t have to refrain with you. 

“You deserve it,” you nodded, glancing over your shoulder out of habit. You were scared of any stragglers with iPhones, but no one around seemed to care that you and Daniel were talking. You were drivers, it shouldn’t have been a strange sight.

“You deserve it,” Daniel playfully shot back. “I mean, I couldn’t just hand it over this year though, despite your Triple Crown goal.”

“Oh but next year? You’ll let me have it then?” You asked, eyebrows raised. It was a joke, a small tease, but Daniel’s smile slipped and you caught it. You caught it and you stepped forward, hand flinching because it would be moments like this where you’d want to reach for him but you couldn’t do that anymore, could you?

Daniel tensed. Now it was his turn to look anxiously around, “I might not-” a sharp inhale passed through his lips, “Yeah I might not be here next year.”

You scoffed because that idea was preposterous, “Oh shut up.”

“No it’s true,” Daniel said, but his smile told you that he wasn’t sad about it. “You know how your goal is the Triple Crown?”

“Yes.”

“Mine’s the championship, sweets.”

You weren’t given an opportunity to react to the nickname because he continued on explaining without missing a beat. Either he didn’t see the way saying sweets affected you or he didn’t even notice he said it because even after all this time, it still came naturally to him. 

“There’s a clause in my contract,” he said. “If I win the championship this year, we can renegotiate. I can leave, I can- I can retire. The way I want to.”

You didn’t know how to process this. 

Daniel belonged in Formula 1. He fought so hard for his seat, he was a mess when he was left without one and now there was a chance he’d be gone? 

And even though you were only eight races in, already he was leading the driver standings over Max, not by much, but he was. There was a strong possibility Daniel could take the championship home at the end of the season.

You couldn’t say what was on your mind. You couldn’t say, selfishly, I hope you lose the championship. You couldn’t say that it was impossible to imagine the paddock without him because even those few months when he wasn’t racing, he was still there. 

“We’ve still got a few months to go,” Daniel’s voice broke you from your thoughts, trying to move to a brighter note because that’s just who he was. “But this could be good for you. You’ll have a real shot at winning Monaco next year. But I mean- you technically already won Monaco.”

“That was F2.”

“I think it still counts.”

“I think I’ll win it again, just to be safe.”

Daniel liked that response, he liked how confident you were that the win was coming. He nodded and he really would have liked to talk to you more about this, about his potential leave, about your success, but when he was called from across the paddock you didn’t hesitate before saying goodbye. The conversation was long enough.

Things seemed lighter between you after that. 

You didn’t stop yourself from being visibly happy when he was doing well. You laughed if you overheard the stupid shit he said in the paddock. You didn’t make a big deal about it when you two were signed up for the same press conference session. Granted, you still sat on complete opposite ends of the couch, but you sat there with a smile because you liked hearing Daniel talk about the lead he still carried in the standings.

Spa was the turning point for you two.

While you hadn’t taken any more steps beyond paddock conversations and friendly interactions, what was Daniel supposed to do when you both ended up on the podium together? Him on top, claiming first, you right next to him on the second step?

You both held back when you climbed out of the cars. He opted for a friendly pat on the back even though he wanted nothing more than to bring you in for an embrace. You had podiumed once already this season, but not with Daniel. You stood between the two Mercedes drivers back in Austria but now you were there, with Daniel at your side, both of you beaming. 

You were proud of yourselves. You were proud of each other. 

Both of you had dreamt of this moment, standing next to each other on the podium. You still remembered that conversation years ago, trying to imagine what it would be like to hear the cheers for both of you.

‘You’ll have to do a shoey.’

‘Only if you win. I’m not doing one if I win.’

You had shared this dream when you were in love and even though that wasn’t the case anymore, the dream was still very much alive. Because of that, it almost didn’t feel right. 

It felt sort of unfulfilling, despite you being handed a heavy trophy. 

But this was a moment that you would remember for the rest of your life. All of your accomplishments were held very close to your heart but this one meant more than you could put into words. 

Hands shaking, crowd going wild, you were on top of the world and you were standing next to the man you used to be in love with. You glanced to the side to watch him, not able to stop yourself from smiling wide and then wider still as he held his head high like a hero. 

Daniel was larger than life. 

He always would be. 

You tried not to let yourself think that this might be the only chance you’d get to stand here with him. This win only pushed him further ahead in the championship and you were, seemingly, the only one who knew this year would be his last if he ended up winning. 

You had to hold onto this moment. It wouldn’t come again. 

To everyone watching at home, this was the start of a new age with you and Daniel. Fans could see the way you two interacted, the sheer joy you had for each other, something they hadn’t seen since you still raced in F2. 

To you, this was the beginning of the end. 

Finally, you and Daniel were getting to a place where things could be good and in a few short months, he’d be gone.

You couldn’t think about it more, not when you felt champagne being sprayed in your direction. You were late to the game and popped yours after Daniel and Max had, but you still joined in with the celebration. 

You laughed when Daniel took his shoe off and poured some of the bubbly liquid into the sole. He laughed when you refused to drink it, both of you ignoring the fact that if you were still in love, if you were still together, you would have done the shoey with him. 

Daniel was content with the nod. He knew you were happy for him, the same way he was happy for you. But neither of you could show it the way you wanted to. 

The championship win was decided at the second last race of the season, Qatar.

You didn’t have a good weekend, and you knew this. You took responsibility for the poor qualifying, the bad performance, for all of it. But you were distracted, unable to keep yourself from thinking about Daniel because if he won this race, he won it all. 

And then he’d walk away.

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Daniel take home the win but selfishly, you wanted him in Formula 1. You always wanted him in Formula 1. 

So when he crossed that line, ahead of Max, ahead of the rest of the grid, when he did celebratory donuts and stood on the podium with his chin held high, you stood on the sidelines and ignored how you used to wish for a day like this, wished for a day where he would be crowned the Championship Winner.

Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. 

It had a nice ring to it. 

That’s what you told him that night when you were out at dinner and saw him sitting with a few members from his team just a few feet away. You weren’t surprised to see him at the establishment, it was exclusive, it was way overpriced and it was where many drivers went prior to going out and partying. 

You avoided his eyes that evening, scared that if you’d meet them you’d be forced to accept the reality that he really was leaving. At least, you know, if you didn’t look at him, you could live in your own little world where he wasn’t gone just yet.

You were genuinely annoyed when you bumped into him after leaving the toilets. The hall was dim, narrow and there was quite literally nowhere for you to go when he turned the corner and stopped walking when he saw you. 

“Hi,” you swallowed, anxiously smoothing out the skirt you wore, even more anxiously trying to avoid his eyes.

“Hi,” Daniel slid his hands into his pockets. His Enchante shirt clung to his skin due to the heat, but you told yourself you weren’t allowed to look at the way his little curls stuck to his forehead. 

“You, um-” you held your hand out. “Congratulations, really. Daniel Ricciardo. 2025 Formula 1 World Champion. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

He laughed and nodded along, “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

When he leaned against the wall, you realised you were stuck. There was no getting out of this conversation. No escaping this reality. 

It didn’t help that the rest of the dining room faded behind him. The people, the sounds, the light, it was just Daniel. 

Just Daniel and just you.

How it always should have been.

How it would never be again.

You opened your mouth, intent on saying something else about his win but all that came out was a shaky breath and a choked back sob that triggered the tears you didn’t even know were building. It was quiet, but it was desperate and it was painful and Daniel didn’t hesitate before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. Your cries were muffled against his shirt and Daniel stroked your back and then your hair, holding you tight against him.

You were happy for him, really. If anyone deserved this win, it was him but god you were devastated because up until now, you didn’t realise you still held this much love for him. Up until now, you didn’t realise that even after everything, you still needed him.

You needed him.

“What am I going to do without you on the grid?” You asked, your voice was already quiet but it was even more so muffled as you spoke directly into his body.

Daniel chuckled, it vibrated through his chest. “What you’ve been doing this whole time, sweets. You’ll make history. You’ll put the rest of the guys in their places. You’ll be the driver I know you to be.”

It took a few seconds, maybe a few minutes actually, of just standing there and crying into his chest until you snapped out of it. You weren’t dating anymore, your conversations now didn’t last longer than five minutes, it was embarrassing to be losing it in front of him, because of him.

You stepped back and wiped your eyes, “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t- I just-”

“I’ll miss you too, Y/N,” he breathed out. 

You nodded, because if you tried to say anything else you would be crying again. Daniel held his finger up and walked into the toilets to grab some tissue for you. It took another minute for you to be able to trust your voice again.

“I can’t believe you’re really leaving,” you dabbed at your cheeks, knowing you’d have to go back to the hotel to fix your make up before going out again. 

“I’ve got things lined up,” Daniel shrugged.

“Care to share?”

He tried to hide his smile and failed miserably, “Just don’t be surprised if I show up at the track next year with a microphone instead of a helmet.”

That was about as much he would say as his deal with Sky Sports wasn’t yet official. 

But now you felt more like an idiot for crying about him leaving if he wasn’t even actually leaving. You’d still see him. He’d still be around. You could work with that.

Daniel could still be proud of your accomplishments, even if he was on the sidelines. 

He was, however, a little conflicted when you won the last race of the 2025 season.

You made history in Abu Dhabi. The first female driver to win a race. This was a wall you had spent years trying to crash through and now there you were. On top of the podium, on top of the world as confetti fell to the ground around you, champagne sprayed in all directions. 

This was your moment.

Your win, your first win and all you wanted was Daniel up on that podium with you. As happy as you were to celebrate with Max and George, you couldn’t deny something was missing. 

Because you really could never cut yourself off from Daniel completely, could you? You could try, you could attempt to distance yourself, you could stop the interactions and you could tell yourself you didn’t care but you were right that day you told Lando that Daniel was your missing piece.

So it made sense that you were at a bit of a loss for words when he showed up at your hotel room that next morning. 

You invited him in, despite being slightly hungover. He didn’t care that your clothes were spread all throughout the room, but he did smile at the sight of your trophy on proud display on the table before you had to give it to your engineer for safe travels.

“So this is it,” you sighed, sitting down on the far side of the couch. Daniel sat down as well, the opposite side, arm stretched along the back of it.

“This is it,” he agreed. 

“When does the news drop?”

He clicked his tongue, “Tomorrow.”

“Who’s replacing you?”

“Not sure,” he scratched the stubble along his jaw. “My guess is Lawson or possibly Palou.”

You sat in silence for a while, thankful that it wasn’t uncomfortable because it easily could have been. 

But you both grew this season.

You could both admit now, being in love and being drivers was an unattainable dream.

But you could be drivers and you could still have love for each other. 

You reached across the couch, a gentle smirk playing on your lips as you nudged his arm, “So what are you going to say about me?”

Daniel dipped his head back and laughed, “What do you mean?”

“You know,” you shrugged. “Like when you talk about us drivers on Sky Sports. What are you going to say about me?”

“I’m going to say that not only did you steal my seat, but you stole the glory of my last race by winning.”

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the sarcasm but you were thankful his words weren’t malicious anymore, “I thought we were past this. I didn’t steal your seat, Dan.”

“No, but I don’t think I can joke about it on air so this is my last chance.”

You reached behind you and grabbed one of the throw pillows, smacking it against his chest. You chose to look at this playfully, instead of it as the inevitable end. 

And Daniel needed a second to think about your question anyway, so the joke was just a way to stall. Honestly, he was a little surprised that he hadn’t already thought about it considering you were on his mind more than you should have been. 

He cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the couch cushion. You could see that he was struggling to come up with a good response and you didn’t mean for this. You didn’t want him to think he had to choose his words carefully. 

“Hey,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, “Promise me something.”

You met his eyes, his dark brown eyes that once had such a strong hold over you. You looked at him and remembered why you fell in love with him in the first place. In this moment, it was hard to remember why you ever wanted to stop loving him.

Had you stopped loving him? Did that day really come?

You could have love for someone and not be in love with him anymore, but you didn’t think you’d find yourself in a position where you had to differentiate between the two. You thought, you knew, you would always be in love with Daniel that to sit here and think that maybe, possibly, you didn’t anymore, felt like a betrayal. 

He was supposed to be the one that stood by you through it all. The good, the bad, the wins, the losses. It wasn’t supposed to end with you two sitting on the couch and admitting that this truly was over. 

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but you always knew it would. 

Fate stepped in and whether you liked it or not, it was forcing you into a goodbye, into an acceptance that your lives would no longer be intertwined, that you couldn’t go back to the way things were. 

“Anything,” Daniel spoke softly. Maybe one day he would have said, I’d promise you the world, if you asked, but that seemed a little too forward for the moment.

“Be honest, Dan,” you told him, your hand finding his over the edge of the couch. Your thumb brushed against his fingers and both of you fought the urge to just connect them further. “Tell them my name, but tell them how I got to Formula 1. Tell them it was you, that you helped me pave the way, that you helped me make a name in this sport. Don’t just point to the pictures of me, point to the ones of us. Now that you’re done with racing, I don’t care about the assumptions, the rumours, any of it. Tell people how it really was you and I, how we were the team that should have been, that never was, please,  because even though I know-” 

You paused, taking a second to swallow the lump at the back of your throat. You glanced at your hand and maybe it was you or maybe it was him, but your fingers started to interlock. Your eyes stayed glued to the touch as your last admittance filled the air between you.

“I know I could have made it to Formula 1 without you, but I can’t put into words how thankful I am that I didn’t have to.”

Daniel nodded, because he agreed with you. He knew you could have gotten here without him but he too was grateful he was by your side for the start of it. He agreed that you two really were the team that never was but should have been. He nodded and agreed that he would say all of those things.

But you knew that he wouldn’t.

Those words were for him, not the rest of the world. 

He would tell people that you shined on top of the podium. He would say that the crowds went wild, louder for you than any other driver.

And he would never say that he had any part of shaping your career. Despite you knowing he did, despite the whole world knowing he played a detrimental part, Daniel didn’t hold onto those connections when you went on to race in 2026 and he stood in the commentators box. 

He stayed neutral, surprisingly. 

It helped that he didn’t interact with many drivers or if he did, it was never you. He did talk about you, but only about your performance on the track. His colleagues knew not to bring up your past, not when the only thing that mattered was how well you were doing in the present.

He had some thoughts when you announced you were making the switch to IndyCar at the end of this season, but mostly because you made that announcement before the Monaco Grand Prix, before you claimed the win you were chasing, before you could check off one third of the Triple Crown.

He wanted to pull you aside and question why you were making this choice but he couldn’t. He also couldn’t call you out publicly on air like other reporters had. 

All he could do was hold his breath after you qualified P2 in Monaco. He sat on the edge of his seat, struggling to do his job, struggling to commentate on the race because the second you made the move to overtake Max and it worked, Daniel had to leave the room. 

He had to leave because he knew that if you kept the lead, if you won, he couldn’t celebrate the way he wanted to with cameras on him. Instead, he watched from the privacy of a separate media suite. The broadcast was a few seconds delayed but at least he was able to cheer and be visibly proud of you and not have to hold back when you crossed the line ahead of Max.

You won the Monaco Grand Prix, in a McLaren of all cars, and now he knew what you were gunning for next.

The Indy 500. 

Signing that Arrow McLaren deal ended up being the right move after all.

“Who’s your money on?” James Hinchcliffe asked him as they stood on the pit lane where the teams were preparing for the greatest spectacle in racing. The question was innocent enough, proposed to most people who didn’t have an association with any team.

Daniel had his answer. Before the race weekend started he had an answer. Before the season started, he had an answer. Despite knowing you were still far from winning the Indy 500, his money would always be on you. 

You looked up from where you sat on the Arrow McLaren bench and you smiled at him.

You were having a pretty good season, for a rookie. With O’Ward and Rossi as your teammates, you knew you couldn’t compare, but they were good people to have on your team, in your corner. They helped you, guided you through the shift from Formula 1 to Indy and you could be proud that in a grid of 26 drivers, you were 11th in the standings. 

“Not betting on anyone, James,” Daniel answered, but his eyes were still locked on you and his smirk said otherwise. “It’ll be a good race.”

He could say your name, he wanted to. But Daniel stayed as far away from your life as he could because you decided on it a long time ago and nothing that happened since told him that you’d be going back on that decision, that you wanted him back in your life.

He might not have been a driver anymore, but you still were. So he was content with being civil, neutral. He was fine with the friendly smiles and if an old photo of the two of you circulated every now and again, well, he didn’t hate it. 

He sat with the rest of the Indy commentators during the race. He shared his honest opinions throughout and he, along with the other reporters, praised Alexander Rossi for taking home his second Indy 500 victory, eleven years after his first. 

But that was not the Arrow McLaren driver he wished was celebrating in Victory Lane.

Daniel waited until his job was done, but he knew he had to find you before the day ended. He wanted to congratulate you on finishing twelfth. That was something he was proud of and he hoped you were as well. 

It would only go up from there. The Indy 500 was still an achievable goal. 

He found you in the paddock. It wasn’t hard. You stood out, even in the crowd of people. He waited off to the side and watched you take photos with young girls, young fans that resembled that one girl in Miami, all of them looking up to you and thanking you for paving the way for them, for other females in motorsport.

It was by chance that you looked over your shoulder and saw Daniel standing there. He nodded, wordlessly assuring you that he could wait, to take your time with the fans. 

He ended up waiting almost fifteen minutes. 

Eventually, you started to approach him. Daniel stood up straighter, having been leaning against the Penske trailers until you were done. You still had your racing overalls on, but unzipped and hanging loosely on your hips. The black fireproofs under the papaya looked good on you, but Daniel hadn’t let himself appreciate your appearance for years, he couldn’t start now, even if he really wanted to.

“Hey,” you called out when you were only a few steps away.

“Hey yourself,” Daniel chuckled. When you finally stood in front of him, he was sort of expecting to see a sliver of defeat, but you were happy. You may not have won the 500, but you had a good run and there was always next year. Plus, you still had the rest of the season to finish. The season wasn’t over, you could still make history in this sport. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced around, jaw clenched until you finally worked up the courage to meet his eyes. 

“So,” you inhaled a breath. “You’ve got some time on your hands now that you’re retired, right?”

Daniel wasn’t sure where this was going but he laughed and nodded, “Somewhat, yes, but I do still work race weekends.”

“But Monday through Wednesday?”

He pondered it for a second, just for dramatic effect. “I’m fairly open.”

You nodded, hoping for that answer. 

If you were being honest with yourself, this was a conversation you wanted to have with Daniel since he announced his retirement almost two years ago, you just never knew what the outcome would be.

You felt a bit safer now, knowing that he was based out of the UK and your races were only North American. If he hated where you were going with this, well, it was rare you’d be crossing paths so soon afterwards. 

You just had to blurt it out.

“Ever thought about being a trainer?” You asked. “Or a manager? Mentor even? You know- my last mentor walked out on me-”

Daniel cut you off with a booming laugh, “Walked out? Really? Is that what you tell people?”

Him playing along with your humour felt like a weight off your shoulders, “Only if they ask.”

Daniel, finally, didn’t have to refrain himself anymore. He felt confident enough to drape his arm over your shoulders and walk with you down the paddock. For once, he didn’t care if people looked or recorded and secretly, he hoped they did. 

All he wanted was to be at your side. All he wanted was for the world to know he was proud of you, that, if you asked, he’d be back in your corner.

And you were asking.

“So you need a mentor?” He repeated. “A trainer?”

Your hand slipped around his waist. It was natural, comforting, right.

“Well, I need to win the 500 eventually and then I need to get into Le Mans. I can’t do it alone.”

Daniel looked at you, wearing that stupid grin you missed so much even if you had memorised it the first day you met. You missed him, despite hearing his voice on the broadcasts and seeing him in the paddock. You missed him, he was your missing piece after all.

Daniel looked at you, and you knew, you weren’t alone.

__________________

the end ♡

taglist: @torossosebs@whatthefuckerr@jspitwall@oconso@tsarinablogs@landowecanbewc@somanyfandomsbruh@christianpulisic10@storminacloud@sunnytkm23@formula1mount@azxulaa@icarus-nex@spideyspeaches @moonvr @destourtereaux @baw-sixteen @cinderellawithashoe @love4lando @alesainz @blueanfield @itsmeempar @vellicora @simple-soul-searcher

for some reason im struggling to add people to the taglist, i deeply apologise

[astro-stars]

CHAPTER é̴̖́͘r̸̲͚̱͍͑́͝r̶̢̦̳̽̊͜ŏ̶̞̤̊́͘r̸͙̰͖̓̊͠:  0^++6|<3 

Crowley’s golden gaze bore into Yuu, but for the first time since she had arrived, she felt... nothing. Not the oppressive weight of anxiety, not the crushing fear of being out of place—just a peculiar emptiness. Her mind went quiet, her body still, and when she opened her mouth to speak, the words tumbled out before she could stop them. 

“I’m glad you noticed how clueless I am. So proud of you.” 

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Grim’s jaw dropped. “What the—are you crazy?!” he hissed, his blue-flamed ears flicking in alarm. 

Leona let out a short, sharp laugh, his tail twitching with amusement. “Heh. She’s got guts, I’ll give her that.” 

Vil’s perfectly sculpted brow arched in disbelief, his lips parting slightly as if he couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or scandalized. “Did she really just—?” 

Riddle’s face darkened, his sharp features pinching into an expression of pure indignation. “The nerve—!” 

Azul pressed a gloved hand to his mouth, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter. “Oh, this is going to be interesting,” he murmured, his voice tinged with delight. 

Crowley’s reaction, however, was the most dramatic. He sputtered, his hand flying to his chest as if she’d struck him. “I beg your pardon?” he exclaimed, his voice rising an octave. 

Yuu blinked, her mind catching up with her impulsive words a second too late. Her cheeks flushed a furious red, but the emptiness inside her was now replaced by a strange, stubborn defiance. She crossed her arms, refusing to look away despite the heat crawling up her neck. 

“I mean...” she stammered, trying to salvage what little dignity she had left. “You’re not wrong. I am clueless. But yelling at me isn’t exactly helping, is it?” 

The dorm leaders exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity, amusement, and disbelief. 

Crowley opened his mouth to respond but stopped, his golden eyes narrowing as if weighing her words 

Yuu’s voice cracked, her words tumbling out in a rush as if she’d been holding them in for far too long. “I mean, I get how confused you are too, but you need to actually think about my perspective instead of just your own!” she exclaimed, her tone rising in pitch. 

The room grew unnervingly still, the remaining students and dorm leaders freezing in place as her words echoed in the grand hall. 

“I’m just a random who got, quite literally, kidnapped and woke up in a coffin!” she continued, her hands trembling as she gestured wildly. “And then you, someone I don’t know, have been borderline scolding me for things I have no control over! And to top it off, you dragged me into a room full of just guys—y’know, a female’s biggest predator?!” 

Her breath hitched, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes as the enormity of her situation finally crashed down on her. “I don’t know what’s going on, and—I just—I don’t know, okay?” 

Her voice broke on the last word, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was her ragged breathing. 

Grim froze mid-step, his fiery bravado extinguished by the rawness in her voice. The dorm leaders exchanged uneasy glances, their confident facades faltering. Even Leona, who seemed perpetually unimpressed by everything, looked mildly taken aback. 

Crowley’s golden eyes widened, his mouth opening slightly as if to respond, but no words came out. His usual flamboyant demeanor seemed to shrink under the weight of her outburst. 

Riddle’s arms, which had been firmly crossed, dropped to his sides. “I...” he started but trailed off, his stern expression softening into something almost resembling guilt.  

Yuu clenched her fists at her sides, forcing her trembling voice to stay steady. She wouldn’t cry—not here, not now, in front of this room full of strangers who seemed to think her existence was some kind of cosmic mistake. 

“I’m just as lost as you are,” she said, her voice firmer now but still laced with frustration. “And I just want to go home and dismiss this whole thing as like—I don’t know—a hallucination, I guess?” 

The words hung in the air, raw and cutting, slicing through the remaining whispers in the room. 

Grim looked up at her, his fiery ears drooping slightly.  

Leona, lounging against the wall with his usual air of disinterest, raised a brow. “Hmph. Sounds like a lot of trouble for someone who’s not supposed to be here in the first place,” he muttered, though his voice lacked its usual edge. 

Vil shot him a withering look. “Leona, if you don’t have anything constructive to add, perhaps silence would suit you better.” 

Yuu exhaled shakily, her voice soft but resolute. “Where I’m from, magic isn’t real,” she said, the weight of those words settling over the room like a leaden blanket. 

That statement, simple as it was, drew a stunned silence from the crowd. Even the dorm leaders, who had maintained their aloofness, shifted uncomfortably, their expressions ranging from confusion to disbelief. 

Crowley blinked, his golden eyes wide. “Not real?” he repeated, as if the concept itself was an affront to his very being. 

“Yes,” she replied firmly, meeting his gaze. “No fire that comes from nowhere, no talking mirrors, no strange schools with coffins instead of dorms.” Her voice wavered for a moment, but she pushed on. “Back home, this would all be... stories. Fantasy. None of this is supposed to exist.” 

Azul’s eyes gleamed with intrigue, his fingers tenting under his chin. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “A world devoid of magic... How does such a place function?” 

Yuu shrugged helplessly, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “Technology, I guess. Electricity. Science. We figure things out without waving a wand or summoning fire out of thin air.” 

Vil’s perfectly arched brows knitted together. “A life without magic sounds dreadfully dull,” he said, though his tone carried an undertone of genuine curiosity. 

Leona snorted. “Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. You’re telling me you’ve never seen magic before today?” 

“Not once,” Yuu admitted, crossing her arms defensively. “And honestly, I’m still not sure I believe it. For all I know, I’m still back home in a hospital bed, dreaming this whole thing up.” 

Crowley looked like he might combust. “Dreaming?! I’ll have you know that Night Raven College is one of the most prestigious institutions in all the lands! Hardly something your imagination could conjure up!” 

Yuu raised a brow. “I woke up in a coffin and got dragged into a room of strangers who think I don’t belong here. You’ll forgive me if I’m not exactly impressed right now.” 

Grim puffed up his chest, hopping in front of her. “Don’t worry, hench-human! I’ll make sure you see just how amazing I am—er, I mean, how amazing this place is!” 

She glanced down at him, her lips quirking into a faint smile despite everything. “Sure, Grim. Let’s start with figuring out how I survive here without accidentally offending another magical collar machine.” 

Riddle bristled. “For the record, my spell is perfectly justified!” 

“Oh no, it totally was, you should collar me sometime—” she blurted, Yuu barely paused after her accidental quip, plowing ahead as though it had never happened. “So, with all your magic—abracadabra, hocus-pocus, and whatever else you call it—is this normal?” She gestured vaguely to the scorched curtains, the lingering smell of smoke, and the murmuring students. 

The room remained frozen for a beat, her earlier words still hanging awkwardly in the air for everyone else, but her determined shift in tone left no room for follow-up. 

Leona raised an eyebrow, his tail swishing lazily. “Depends. Are you asking if the chaos is normal or if you saying something that dumb is?” 

Yuu shot him a glare. “I’m asking about the chaos. Thanks for the unnecessary commentary, rando” 

Leona smirked but didn’t push further. 

Azul adjusted his glasses, his tone measured. “If you’re asking whether it’s common for new students to set the room ablaze with uncontrollable magic, the answer is no.” 

“Though it does liven things up a bit,” Vil added with a faint smile, his tone dripping with sarcasm. 

Riddle, meanwhile, still looked incensed, the redness in his cheeks fading into his usual stern demeanor. “This is not how a ceremony is supposed to proceed. That raccoon—” 

“I’M NOT A RACCOON!” Grim interjected with a fiery huff, his tail puffing out indignantly. 

Riddle didn’t even glance at him. “—has caused nothing but disorder from the moment he arrived.” 

Yuu sighed, rubbing her temples. “Trust me, I’m aware. Welcome to my life.” 

“You’ve only been here a few hours,” Crowley cut in with dramatic flair, his golden eyes narrowing. “And already, your presence is proving uniquely... disruptive.” 

Yuu threw up her hands. “Look, it’s not like I asked to be here! If I could click my heels together and go home, I’d do it faster than you can say ‘detention!’” 

Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but Leona’s low chuckle interrupted. 

“Don’t bother,” Leona drawled. “If this herbivore doesn’t belong here, just toss her back where she came from.” 

Yuu shot him a withering look. “Oh, gee, thanks for the suggestion, Simba. I’m sure that’ll work perfectly without any explanation or plan.” 

Kalim perked up, looking genuinely curious. “Wait, where did you come from? Is it really a place without magic? How do you even live?” 

Yuu shrugged, her tone deliberately nonchalant as she leaned back slightly. “I don’t know how to explain it, so I guess you’ll just never know.” 

Her words hung in the air, a deliberate act of deflection that left the group momentarily speechless. 

Leona’s tail flicked, his emerald eyes narrowing as he smirked. “Tch. Convenient.” 

Yuu shot him a glance. “Yeah, isn’t it? Saves me the headache of trying to explain something you wouldn’t get anyway.” 

Azul adjusted his glasses, his expression thoughtful. “Interesting tactic—refusing to share information outright. Almost clever, if not for the blatant avoidance.” 

“I call it prioritizing my sanity,” she replied, keeping her voice light. 

Riddle frowned, clearly unimpressed. “Avoiding the question doesn’t change the fact that you’ve disrupted an important ceremony and are fundamentally unfit to be here.” 

Yuu sighed dramatically, throwing her hands up. “Wow, thanks for the reminder, Mom.” 

Riddle’s cheeks flushed a deeper red, but before he could retort, Crowley clapped his hands, his theatrical tone cutting through the tension. “Enough! We’ll get to the bottom of this later. For now, the more pressing matter is finding a solution to this... unprecedented situation.” 

“Unprecedented doesn’t even begin to cover it,” Vil murmured, eyeing Yuu like she was an unsightly stain on his meticulously tailored coat. 

Yuu crossed her arms, her patience thinning. “Look, I didn’t ask to be here. You all act like this is my fault, but I’m just as clueless about all of this as you are. Probably more.” 

“And yet you keep talking like you’ve got it all figured out,” Leona muttered, leaning back lazily against one of the columns. 

She shot him a glare. “It’s called sarcasm. You should try it sometime—it might make you slightly more tolerable.” 

Kalim laughed, his sunny demeanor cutting through the tension. “She’s kinda funny, though! I like her!” 

Yuu glanced at Kalim, her expression softening slightly. “You’re like the only one here I didn’t dislike at one point,” she admitted, the honesty slipping out before she could stop it. 

Kalim beamed, his eyes sparkling with genuine delight. “Really? That’s great! I knew we’d be friends!” 

Yuu blinked at his enthusiasm, momentarily thrown off. “Uh, yeah... sure. Friends.” 

Leona scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back lazily. “Figures you’d get along with sunshine over there.” 

“Better than with a walking ego trip,” she shot back without missing a beat. 

“Careful, herbivore,” Leona growled, though there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Kalim, oblivious to the tension, clapped his hands together. “Hey, if we’re all getting along now, maybe we should celebrate! I can throw a party!” 

“Absolutely not,” Vil cut in sharply, his tone filled with disdain. “This is hardly a moment for celebration.” 

Azul adjusted his glasses, his voice calm and measured. “Agreed. There are far too many unanswered questions, starting with Miss Yuu’s very presence here.” 

(not canon)

[pyozha]

I must apologise - yuji x f!reader

chapter two - base down low

masterlist

Yuji pov:

“Hey man Imma head out for a bit. Gotta catch a game with Inumaki so I would appreciate if you took out the trash this time” Yuji stands in the doorway of Megumis room while holding his playstation controller, wearing just the most comfortable ‘staying at home’ outfit you can think of.

Megumi, laying on his bed while reading some existential literature, rolls his eyes already irritated by those two sentences coming from Yuji. “I took out the trash for you two times in a row you can’t keep using fortnite as an excuse-“ Megumi didn’t have the chance to finish before Yuji chimed in“thanks dude I’ll see you later now, love ya!” He gives him a thumbs up and a dorky smile making his way out of their apartment. He didn’t even listen to a word Megumi was trying to tell him. You can say that Yuji loves to tick off Megumi just because he can.

Making his way from down the 3rd floors hallway, just after 6 apartments he reaches his destination. He stands right in front of his friends door and knocks 3 times just fast enough. Right as the door was opening Yuji was in the midway of saying something diabolical but froze when he saw it wasn’t his friend Toge who opened the door.

“Yeah?” y/n stood with half of her body visible behind the door. For just a moment Yuji thought he approached the wrong apartment, but through the girls messy hair covering her face just slightly, he recognised it was y/n.

“Oh uh hi! Is Inumaki home?” Yuji asks a bit flustered as he didn’t even listen not expect to see her of all people greet him while he was dressed like a dumpster bag.

“Yeah, he’s in his room. You want me to go get him?” She opens the door wider revealing a bit more of her small frame.

Yuji shook his head. “No it’s okay, I’m just coming over to play some fortnite…” he mumbled the last part. Yuji was never good when talking to girls. Not pretty ones to be exact.

“Oh you’re Itadori right?” y/n spoke up comfortably opening the door now, more comfortable that the man standing infront of her door wasn’t some freak about to beg to be stepped on by bare feet. (happened twice to her in the last 3 months).

“Uh yeah. We’re classmates” Yuji sounded unsure. He felt like an idiot for being so awkward and the conversation has only started.

“Yeah I know. You’re Nobaras roommate” y/n spoke with a slight grin. Yuji could only respond with an uncomfortable chuckle. Nobara had a big mouth and god knows what she has shared with y/n.

Right then Toge appeared behind y/n shoving her to the side a tad bit too rough. “Hey man she isn’t interested in your nasty fantasies-“ Toge cut himself off as the sight over y/ns back becomes clear. Indeed it wasn’t the mysterious lunatic instead it was his unhinged friend with an indescribable face expression, almost looking offended yet more confused.

“Ah Yuji! Get in I just set up the game” Toge points to his room nonchalantly completely disregarding what he said earlier.

Yuji was a bit lost looking at y/n for some sort of context while following Toge slowly to his room but she just smiled like she had no idea.

☆ I hope you understood that the messages are from Yujis pov 🙈

☆ y/n thinks Yuji is such a loser but in a cute way lmao

☆ even if she has seen him shove down 10 shots at once down his throat at a party last semester her mind can’t put two and two together

☆she literally thought he had a twin brother or something for the longest time

☆nobara has definitely shared everything to the last detail to y/n about yuji

☆nobara is a shit talker 24/7 its a ‘I yap and you yap with me’ type of friendship

taglist: @jayathelostdragon @linaaeatsfamilies

If I cant tag you change your settings or I will have to remove you ;(

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 18

We are really getting down to the end now. But there are so many twists and turns coming and I'm excited for you to see them all.

In this Jason is stupid, Tommy is late, and Billy is not what he seems.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

~

Tommy couldn’t wait until he turned eighteen. Then he could finally dispense with the fucking pretense of being Steve Harrington’s bitch.

Him and Carol had been ordered by Hopper to befriend Steve at school, to keep an eye on him. Asshole used his alpha voice and everything so they couldn’t refuse. Carol learned to actually like the knucklehead, but Tommy couldn’t stomach Steve. He wasn’t Pack. Not that Tommy wanted to be a werewolf. No, he had other plans. But to order them to hang out with the idiot was just too much to bear.

So when Bill Hargrove came into town and cleaned up that hornet’s nest that was the old Coven, Tommy knew what he wanted. He wanted real power. Werewolves were big slobbery beast who didn’t have a fucking thought in their head. Just pure instinct.

And of course Steve was too stupid to see that Billy always was a step ahead of the lumbering brute. He did think once or twice that maybe Nancy had figured it out earlier on in his little spy game, but no, not even the supposed smartest girl Hawkins figured it out.

She was completely wasted as a werewolf. She was too beautiful and smart to be limited by being a Were. Fuck, if Tommy hadn’t been gay, he would have pummeled Byers for her. Not that the Pack knew his proclivities toward his own sex. He had been ‘dating’ Carol for most of high school and hated how open Steve was about liking both.

How dare he! How dare Harrington be so comfortable in his skin that he could walk the halls of Hawkins High with confidence about his sexuality and have literally no one give a shit that he could easily be found with his mouth on a cock or his hand up a girl’s skirt.

Tommy was doing his patrols as normal and if Billy got reported to before Steve, then that was his business. Steve had told everyone to be on the lookout for a rogue Were. Most likely wolf, but could be fox or coyote.

It would just be his luck to run across the damn thi–

He stopped in his tracks. The wind had shifted enough that Tommy was almost literally hit in the face with the scent. His nose wasn’t as powerful as a full Were, but as a keeper, his nose was more than adequate for the job.

There! Just off the path and to the north. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the scent of blood hit his nose next. Whatever the Were was eating, he hoped it was while in Were form and not human.

He took a step toward the clearing, but stopped when someone else exited the woods. He froze, stock still.

“Oh my beloved,” the person was saying. “Perhaps I should have picked a different pack to manipulate. I thought it would be so easy to convince Hopper to remove your banishment, but all my plans have failed.”

The feral Were muttered something and the other person sighed. “I’m afraid we’ll have to move on, too many people are becoming suspicious.”

The feral Were muttered again.

“Of course, darling,” they muttered. “I just need to finish one last thing before we go.”

Tommy pressed his hands to his mouth to keep the scream from coming out of his mouth. He turned and ran out of the woods as fast as his feet could carry him. Every instinct as a keeper told him to run to his alpha. His very blood screamed at him that he was going the wrong direction.

But Billy needed to know. Even if Tommy was still loyal to the Pack. Billy needed to be warned.

~

Gareth was itching to race Steve. As a gwyllgi he wanted to see who was faster, the wolf or the Graveyard Dog.

Steve smiled when the younger teen suggested it because he knew of the Munsons’ plans to keep him guarded.

What surprised him the most was the fact that Barb had offered watch over him whenever he went outside of the town limits, closer to her family’s domain of Lover’s Lake. He assumed with Nancy being kept out of the loop on why it was necessary in the first place that she would not only disagree, she would go running to her best friend to tell her.

But according to Eddie and Brian, the selkie had overheard them talking about it at school and volunteered. She had been fighting with Nancy over her classism and if Steve needed her protection. She was going to give it.

There had been a few others, a couple of harpies from town, a pair of elderly sisters whom Steve had been kind to, a gumiho who was there at the school as an exchange student, and Bob Newby, who was much to everyone’s surprise a gnome.

Steve had told Nancy about the incident with the other pack and the one who had been banished. She frowned and nodded like she was expecting that answer. She then told Steve that she thought there was more to the story than what the papers and even the report let on. Something about the differing accounts and how his mate seemed insistent that his mate wouldn’t do such things.

He had left her to it.

Gareth and Steve had been racing down Main Street when Eddie who had been roped into judge the show of speed and agility spotted the smoke on the horizon.

The two shifters skidded to a halt, changing back into their human forms as they held each other.

“It’s the coven!” Gareth hissed, his nose positively quivering from the scent of death in the air.

Steve pushed him in the direction of the compound. “Warn the pack! Eddie get your uncle, quick!”

Both boys dashed off, changing as they hurtled themselves down the road to do as Steve said. Steve himself looked around and spotted a pay phone.

He called the fire department and told them it was the coven and to send only supes to the fire. He wasn’t sure he was believed but he sincerely hoped they had.

When he got the house Steve could see the carnage. And only three of them were vampires, and one thrall. Thankfully no one he knew personally, but still a grave loss to the coven.

The remaining dozen or so?

Humans.

Hunters by their garb and weaponry. They were dressed in bright white combat gear with silver crosses on their chest. Their neck guard, bracers, and chest plate were all silver painted white.

Steve spotted Jeff first and changed back into a human.

Jeff was sitting on the stoop of the house, covered in soot and coughing something fierce.

“Hey,” Steve said soothingly. “Are you okay?

Jeff looked up at him in shock. “What are you doing here, man?”

Steve crouched in front of him and looked him in the eye. “Saw the smoke, Gareth’s getting the pack and Eddie’s getting Wayne. I also called the fire department. Help’s on its way. But are you okay?”

“You really are something else, Harrington,” he muttered. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

It was then that Chrissy came out of the smoke and fog of the burning building and threw something to the ground. She spat on it and started kicking it repeatedly, cursing and foaming at the mouth.

Jeff and Steve dashed over to her and saw the object of her ire.

There, torn to almost literal pieces, but still unmistakable, was Jason Carver. His blue eyes wide in death, his perfect teeth and blond hair, covered in blood, and his golden crucifix twisted and bent.

“What the fuck happened?” Steve hissed as the sounds of sirens drew close.

~

The sun had risen a couple of hours ago and the Coven was happily kicking back in the house that they had long since claimed as their own.

Up top it was a regular house; three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dinning room, kitchen, study and front room. This was where Billy, Heather, Chrissy, and Keith stayed. Billy and Heather roomed together as a couple and if either Chrissy or Keith got a partner, they would be able to stay above ground, too.

But everyone else was underground. Not because the sun would burn them, it wouldn’t. They weren’t bitten. As they were still living, the sun didn’t hurt them. Not like it did Eddie and Wayne.

No they were underground because it was safer for the vampires to be protected from hunters.

Around noon, the doors to their house burst and Hunters begin to file in, smoke billowing everywhere from the smoke bombs they had thrown. A dozen men and women in white combat gear splashing the place with holy water and shouting in Latin.

Billy’s lips curled back into a snarl. He had fought hard for his position and wasn’t about to let a few humans ruin that for him.

He merrily lead them through the house, baiting them into using their ammo and holy water against him, wasting every bullet, every drop. Crucifixes were brandied about and still Billy ran, as they gave chase.

Just when they thought they had him cornered against the bookshelves in the study, the leader stepped forward and removed his gas mask, his hair tousled from the head gear.

There in all his blond hair, blue-eyed glory was Jason Carver.

“I have you now, Hargrove,” he sneered. “You think your kind is so clever, but I have the upper hand now. You could have healed Patrick, but now he’s a monster. And once I’m rid of you, those flea-bitten werewolves are next. You are the scourge that needs to be scrubbed from this world. And I aim to do just that.” He pulled out a sword from his hip and it glinted with silver. “For Patrick!”

Billy grinned as his eyes glittered with blood lust. “That’s where you’re wrong, Carver. I’m not trapped in here with you. You’re trapped in here with us!”

He pressed a button on the bookshelf next to him and it swung inwards to reveal the entire Coven standing behind him.

The vampires poured out of the hidden space into the study to the screams and terror of the Hunters.

Empty guns clattered uselessly, empty bottles of Holy Water thrown in hopes of a single drop hitting it’s target.

But it was no use. The vampires had the upper hand.

Billy launched himself right at Jason, going straight for the throat. The neck guard prevented Jason from dying on the spot, but Billy was well built outside of his super human strength of being a vampire. The silver merely slowed down the inevitable.

Jason went down hard and fast as Billy clawed and tore at the armor. Jason’s arms flailed wildly as he tried get purchase on any bit of Billy he could get his fingers into.

Billy placed a well aimed punch right in the center of Jason’s face, shattering the nose. Jason screamed but another hit made him black out just long for Billy to tear off the armor in pieces, snarling like a wounded animal. He shook Jason until the other boy awoke.

Instantly Jason knew this was the end. Without the silver armor, Billy was far too powerful to even try to struggle to get free. He was a dead man. His eyes went wide.

Billy held him up by his throat to show the remaining Hunters, that their leader was done for.

“This is the might of the vampire!” he bellowed and then he slowly, excruciatingly, painfully crushed Jason’s throat. And just before he took his last breath Billy leaned forward and whispered, “Your god is dead.”

He dropped the lifeless body to the floor and snarled at the fight going on around him. He rushed into battle, more monster than man in that moment, transforming into the beast humans’ truly feared.

Far too soon in Billy’s opinion all the Hunters were dead.

Heather, Keith, and Chrissy circled around him to stare down at the twisted body of Jason Carver.

“Religious zealot,” Chrissy spat.

“Hateful man,” Heather agreed, nudging the body with her toe.

Just then Tommy arrived at the door, a stunned expression on his face. “Oh god!”

Billy was in front of him in an instant, grabbing his shirt collar and hauling him off his feet.

“What do you know?” he snarled.

Tommy shook his head. “Nothing about this, I swear! I was coming to warn you. I know who’s behind this and your attempted poisoning.”

Billy set him down gently and tilted his head to one side. “I’m listening.”

So Tommy told him about what he heard in the clearing and who he saw.

“Excellent,” Billy said with a feral grin. “You’ve done well, little spy.” He snapped his fingers. “Keith, you’re with me.”

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. “So I have I done enough?”

Billy put his arm his shoulders and led him out into the bright light of the afternoon sun. He leaned in close so only Tommy could hear him. “I can’t change a Keeper into a vampire, even if I was a real vampire. But as I’m not, you’re just out of luck, dumbass.”

He pushed Tommy to the ground and laughed as he and Keith walked away from Tommy and the burning house that once was the abode of the vampire Coven.

~

Part 19 Part 20

Tag List: THIRTEEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology @w1ll0wtr33

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 6

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Jason crouched into a fighting stance, mimicking Danny. They began to circle each other, making a complete circle of the training ring in the process.

"One of us has to move first, and you're the one who wanted to test me." Jason quipped. Danny lunged, intending to hit a spot of fabric visible between Jason's armor.

Jason dodged, then went to hit Danny in the middle of his back, only for him to fall through him. He tucked into a roll and popped up on on knee. "Okay, now that's not fair. Density shifting? Didn't think I'd be fighting someone like the Martian."

Danny paused. "Martian?" He shook his head. "Never mind, I can ask later. I'm already handicapping myself with like half, the shit I can do keeping projectiles outta the fight. At least let me keep my basics."

Jason looked at him suspicious. "What are your basics?"

"Oh just intangibility, invisibility, flight and super-strength." Danny grinned like the little shit he was. Definitely a younger sibling. Jason thought. He rolled his eyes and got to his feet, ending up in a fighting stance again.

"Yeah, but If I can't touch you at all how are you gonna gauge how I fight?"

Danny tilted his head and squinted his eyes at him. "You have a point." He pouted. "Fine, I need dodging practice anyway."

"Good, now come at me." Jason gestured. Danny gave up trying to obey gravity and flew straight at Jason's mid-section, intending to tackle him. He was not expecting Jason to flip out of the way and to the side, before landing facing where Danny now was positioned.

Danny growled and then leapt towards Jason swinging at his face; Jason did not expect the kick to the stomach. With the air punched out of his lungs, Jason swiped at Danny's head, intending to knock him over. He only managed to send him spinning towards the railing before Danny caught and righted himself.

"You good?" He asked as Jason wheezed a breath in.

"Yeah, I'm good, when was the last time you fought a human kid?"

Danny froze for a moment before a dark look passed over his face. "About seven months. And I was aiming to harm." He shook himself after a moment before a guilty expression flashed across his face.

"I'm good, I promise. Just maybe pull it back a little so you don't accidentally break a few ribs." Jason waved him off, jumping a bit and getting himself psyched back up. "Let's go."

They continued to spar for hours. Danny won the first match, then Jason. The third they got each other locked in a grapple that neither could break and called it a draw. They moved onto weapons after that, first with swords, edges dull for training, then staffs. After a bit they broke for some water.

"So, your sister mentioned you were attending IRU? What's that?" Jason asked after chugging half a bottle.

"Oh, Infinite Realms University. There were a bunch of entities, ghost and neverborn alike, whose obsessions are either teaching or have decided that to feed their obsession and therefore existence, that they would teach others about it. It started as a group of ghosts who manifested together and then slowly expanded to cover every conceivable subject or degree. Myself and a couple of friends are trying to put together a way to do online classes so the people in Amity can attend."

"Oh, so they take full humans?" Maybe I can get a degree if I'm stuck here.

"I mean, they take anyone at all if they can handle the ambient ectoplasm."

"Right, you have both mentioned that. What exactly is ectoplasm? I nebulously know it has something to do with ghosts, but nothing further. Ghosts aren't really a thing in my world as far as I'm aware."

"Right, Jazz mentioned you're new to literally all of this stuff. We grew up with it and then I have it as a lived experience. Here's this is a form of ectoplasm." Danny allowed ectoplasm to pool in his cupped hands. It was florescent green and giving off a glow that shone across Danny's armor.

"That looks like Lazarus water but not bubbling. Can I touch it?"

"Probably not until we get your soul looked at. I mean, I can see it if I look, but I won't know what I'm looking at."

Jason paused. "You can see my soul?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, it's something I've been working on with some of my teachers. Kinda tricky to learn, and you need a proto-core at least to do it. It's taken me a few years to get it down right, now I gotta take more lessons on recognizing differences and classifications, I need to learn before I take the big chair." He chugged the rest of his water bottle and wiped his face with his arm.

"You nervous?" Jason asked.

"Wouldn't you? All I did was fight a dude like I always did to save my town and it resulted in being ghost royalty." He grumbled.

"I mean, I tried to steal the tired off a car and it resulted in me being able to summon mystical glowing swords."

"No way."

Jason smirked and stood, holding his hands out and willing the All-Blades to appear. Glowing flame-like blades sprang to life from his closed fists.

"Okay, that's pretty cool. I mean, I can do that with ice too, see?" Danny holds out his own hands and two swords made from ice appeared to grow from them.

They both looked at each other's weapons, then caught each other's eyes and smirked in unison. "Race ya to the ring!" Danny yelled then lumped high into the air above Jason who scrambled towards the ring.

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 6 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Bob fears that things with Molly are a lot more physical than emotional for her. But when Molly gets a visit from Casey, it helps her recognize just how strong her feelings for Bob really are. 

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, 18+

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! The Curveball masterlist

Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

Bob checked the time while he made dinner and smiled. Molly would be over soon. She never gave his key back, and he never asked for it back. It had been on her keyring for a few weeks, and he loved it when she let herself in and called his name. 

He heard the key in the door and froze, closing his eyes to let her voice wash over him. "Bobby?"

"In the kitchen, Mo," he answered. She looked perfect to him even though she came right from work. And Bob wanted her immediately. But the way she always initiated sex with him as soon as she saw him was starting to become a red flag. So he held back. Or he tried to. But her arms were around his waist, and her lips were on his neck, and she was whispering something dirty.

He was the one constantly whispering that he loved her. But she hadn't said it back. Not once. And now, in spite of himself, he was getting hard for her as she took his hands and guided them up the front of her scrubs top and inside her sports bra.

Immediately his brain told him something new and exciting was going on, and then Molly said, "I got something for you." He ran his thumbs across her nipples. The little bars he liked so much were gone, which sent him into a state of panic. But as she peeled off her top and her bra, Bob's heart started pounding. A strangled sound escaped him as he looked at Molly's nipples which were now sporting delicate gold rings with charms hanging from them. Glasses charms. 

"Honey," he moaned, dipping his head down to taste her there before he could even comprehend what he was doing. And a moment later, when Bob was laying on his living room floor with his pants pulled down and Molly riding him, he thought perhaps he was part of the problem. 

As he fingered the tiny glasses charms and enjoyed the look and feel of her bouncing on his cock, he realized that he couldn't keep his hands off her for more than five minutes. When he was with Molly, he wanted to be with her in every way. And he still didn't even know what this relationship was. But he knew he could make her cum. He was good at it. Loved doing it. 

She collapsed on him, shaking and moaning his name, and he thought he'd gladly do anything to hear her say she loved him.

"What's for dinner?" she asked. "Something healthy?" she added, climbing off of him and letting his cum drip onto his abs. She knelt down to lick him clean, and then he got to his feet as well. Bob was just in awe of her. 

"Pasta and salad," he replied, and she kissed his chin and looked up at him with the softest eyes. He wished he could better understand this balance they had which was far skewed in the physical direction. But when she looked at him like that, he felt like everything was okay.

The following day, Molly had to work a day shift. It was Saturday, and Bob was exhausted at the tee ball game. She kept him up half the night with her hands and mouth and pussy all over him. He had literally no idea how Molly was going to manage an eight hour shift when he could barely focus for a one hour game. Plus, he was going to pick Molly up after work and take her to the bar. 

"You okay?" Bradley asked him with a smirk. "Damn, you look beat."

Bob sighed and fixed his baseball cap. Maybe he could talk to Bradley about his apprehensions. "Molly came over last night, and she barely let me sleep-"

Bradley grimaced. "Please. Say less."

Bob cradled his face in his palms. "I'm trying to be serious here, okay? I think she is way more into me physically than emotionally. And trust me, this is an issue I never dreamt I would have with a woman."

"Bob," Bradley said with a sigh. "As much as I do not want to know details of any sort... are the two of you doing anything together besides fucking? Like going out? Binge watching a series on TV? Cooking meals? Talking about shit?"

"Yes," he replied. "She's got me addicted to serial killer documentaries. I take her out for sushi at least once a week. But she's not allowed to cook anything in my kitchen after the smoke detector scare. And we went for a hike last weekend. The other night, we laid on her living room floor and talked for hours. But I'm telling you, everything begins and ends with sex. Her hands were down my pants in the grocery store parking lot a few nights ago."

Bradley snorted. "You're fine, Bob. You're actually living the dream and complaining about it. You have a girlfriend who wants you in some capacity or another around the clock. Just enjoy it."

But that was the other problem. Molly wasn't actually his girlfriend. Was she? Did she think she was? Would he sound like an idiot if he asked for confirmation? Bob wanted confirmation, but he had no idea how to ask. And now it was time to start practice. 

Every time Bob glanced toward the bleachers and saw Molly's sister, he had to do a double take. But while she was cheering for Everett, she was also subtly waving to Bradley. Thank goodness they had made up. 

After the Tiny Eagles won, Bob went home, took a shower, and then took an afternoon nap. He hadn't done this since he had the flu a few years ago. He woke up just in time to leave to pick Molly up from work and take her to the Hard Deck. He changed into jeans and a shirt and fixed his hair. If she didn't get a chance to change after her shift, he'd stop by her place and let her get ready there. 

Now that Nat had met Molly, she kept asking Bob to bring her out to the bar, and finally tonight they were both off. But he was nervous to have her around all the guys. His friends would be bad enough, but the bar was a hangout for naval officers, and women were a hot commodity there. 

When he pulled into the hospital parking lot, it was packed. Bob thought he saw her car two aisles over as he parked his truck and hopped out to go meet her. And there she was, walking toward her car with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her ID lanyard in her hand. She hadn't spotted him yet, so he just stopped to admire her. She'd changed into some high-waisted white shorts and a light blue crop top with one of Bob's dress shirts unbuttoned over it. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and she was quite effortlessly the hottest woman Bob had ever encountered in his life. 

But when she got to her car, Bob watched her expression turn annoyed. He wasn't sure how he missed it, but there was a guy on a motorcycle parking her in. When Molly got close to him, he hopped off, and Bob could hear Molly say, "Casey."

Bob's blood ran cold. She was meeting him here, in the parking lot where she was supposed to be meeting Bob. Molly had reassured him that she was done with Casey, and he had believed her. She promised Bob that he was the only guy she was seeing. He was three parking spots away now, but he couldn't seem to make himself close the distance to Molly. He could almost feel the rejection from here. Yet she didn't look quite happy that Casey was in her personal space. 

He was trying to give her a bouquet of the wrong kind of flowers. She liked gas station flowers. Didn't this guy know anything? And now he had Molly caged in against her car. He was going to kiss her. Bob stumbled closer, and then Casey actually did kiss Molly's cheek right next to her mouth. 

Bob needed to leave. He needed to go back home. Watching this unfold was going to shatter his heart. 

"Fuck you, Casey," Molly said, shoving him away. He was big, and he didn't really budge, but Molly looked pissed off now. "You're only here because you want to get laid."

"Come on, sexy. I got you flowers. I'll take you for a ride to the beach. It'll be fun."

"Not interested," she replied, but he was still right there, practically touching her.

"Why haven't you been texting me back?" he asked, his voice getting a little more gruff. 

She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm seeing someone else."

"So am I. Doesn't mean we can't fuck around. Nobody fucks like you. I missed these, too," he said, chuckling while he reached for Molly's shirt, swiping his thumb along the fabric near her nipples as she shoved him again.

Bob was running now, fists clenched as he shouted, "Hey!"

Molly and Casey both turned to face him as he rushed across the aisle, and while Casey looked irritated and mildly confused, Molly's face lit up in a beautiful smile. 

"Bobby," she sighed, stepping right into his arms and pressing her cheek to his chest. He held her close, but he didn't take his eyes off Casey. 

"This the guy you're seeing?" he asked with a laugh. 

Molly didn't have a chance to respond before Bob said in a voice with an undercurrent of rage, "You don't touch her." 

There must have been something in his tone, because Casey didn't respond. He just set the flowers down on the top of Molly's car as she pressed her lips to Bob's neck. Her fingers were in his hair as she whispered, "I missed you all day."

"Molly, are you okay?" Bob asked, and she pulled away from him and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm good." Then she raised her middle finger in the air and said," Fuck off, Casey," as the other man climbed on his motorcycle and rode away. "He's just mad because I don't want him anymore."

"He doesn't get to touch you, Honey," Bob whispered, tracing the perfect curve of her bottom lip with his thumb. "I love you." He'd said it several times before, but usually in the dark, and never while making eye contact with her. She kissed his thumb and then his lips, but she didn't respond the way he had hoped. 

"Only you get to touch me," she murmured against his mouth, and Bob's heart was pounding for a different reason now as the sound of the motorcycle faded away. "Just you."

"Mo, Honey." His big hands were on the soft skin of her waist, tucked inside his shirt that she was wearing. She skipped a bra. Bob could see the shape of those pretty new rings through her crop top. And she was kissing him, giving him her soft moans as he held her. 

"I thought we were going to the bar," she whispered, smiling in the dying sunlight as his hands slid down to her butt. "Wanna see my new friend, Nat."

Bob stroked her lip again. "You'll stay with me the whole time, yeah? Me or Nat. The whole time."

"I will," she promised, looking very pleased with herself. Looking like she had Bob exactly where she wanted him.

------------------------

The drive was pretty quiet as Bob gripped the steering wheel and drove exactly the speed limit. 

"So...my sister told me the Tiny Eagles won today."

"Yeah," he grunted in response. Molly sat quietly, unsure how to respond to him when he was like this. He was never like this.

After a mile or so, he asked, "Did you tell Casey to meet you at your car?"

Molly laughed. "Are you serious right now? No!"

"Then why was he there, Mo?"

She turned to face him as he drove, street lights illuminating his face with a golden glow. "The hospital was probably the only place he could find me. I've been avoiding his calls and texts, and I'm at your place more often than I'm at mine."

"Why does he think it's okay to touch you like that?" he asked. His voice sounded calm, but Molly could tell he had to work at it.

"I guess.... because I'd never told him no before," she said softly. "Are you mad at me?"

"At you?" he asked with a bitter sounding laugh. "No. Not at you. Maybe at myself a little bit." He pulled into the bar parking lot and found a spot in the back corner where it was dark. Molly could only make out his profile and the silver glint of his glasses when she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him.

"Don't be mad, Coach Bob. Casey is just upset that I moved on and that he has a tiny penis, and he can't do anything about either of those."

She crawled across the seat, and even though she could tell he didn't really want to, he welcomed her in his lap. She straddled his thighs and kissed him, and after a few seconds, he was kissing her back. He was a little rough, and Molly was whining softly as his lips found her collar bones and her neck.

She rubbed herself against him. He was rock hard in his jeans, and she was already panting and clenching around nothing. She needed him, just like she always did. Her hands went to his zipper, and he didn't fight it as she pulled him free from his jeans. 

"Bobby," she gasped when his hands eased her shirt up, and he leaned down to kiss her nipples. She was still wearing the new glasses rings she bought in his honor, and he was pulling them into his mouth one at a time and sucking. She struggled out of her shorts, only glancing around briefly to make sure nobody was watching. It didn't really matter though as long as she could feel him inside her. So she yanked her panties to the side and hissed in pleasure as she sank down around his cock.

"Molly," he grunted, brow creased as he looked at her. He shook his head before he grabbed her by the back of the neck and smashed his lips against hers. When Bob thrust up into her, she screamed, the sound muffled by his mouth. His unfastened belt buckle was rubbing against her clit, and she was already shaking. 

"Oh my god," she squealed, pulling his hair for leverage as she rode him rough until she was cumming, back arched in pleasure. Then he grabbed her by the hips and fucked her until he was groaning and whining. His mouth found her breasts again as he filled her up with his cum. Molly held onto him while she shook. She hoped he didn't mind a mess on the front of his jeans, because she wasn't exactly sure how they'd make it out of the truck looking tidy. 

"God damn it, Molly!" Bob growled, panting and tipping his head back against the seat. He was looking at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. But he sounded annoyed, and now Molly just wanted to go get her car and go home for the night, because she felt like she was doing everything wrong. 

"What?" she asked softly. He came. It wasn't like the quickie wasn't good for him. Hell, he was still inside her.

But when he tipped his head to look at her again, he looked so sad. She felt tears sting her eyes as he asked, "Is it just physical for you, Honey? Is that all this is?"

"What are you talking about?" she gasped, yanking her shirt down to cover herself. She reached for his hand, and he let her lace her fingers with his. 

Bob took a deep breath and said, "I'm talking about me and you." He couldn't even meet her eyes. He was looking at her cheek as he added, "You initiate sex all the time. I need to know. Is this just physical to you?" He was gesturing between their bodies with his free hand, and Molly's heart plummeted into her stomach.

"Bob," she gasped. "No." She kissed him, but he kept his mouth firm. "No," she whispered against his lips. "It's not just physical."

"Molly, you know I can't say no to you," he said, voice raspy. "You're just going to keep messing me up every single time, aren't you? I don't even know what we're doing here. I don't know what this is. You've got me so confused about what you want."

"You!" she practically shouted. "I want you!"

He closed his eyes. "You're all over me like this. But I don't like the way my heart feels."

Molly sobbed. This was a new low, even for her. The man she loved was actually still inside her, and he was about to tell her he didn't want to see her anymore. "But Bob... I love how I feel when I'm with you."

He looked miserable. "I know. I know you said I can make you orgasm, and you said I'm big."

"Not like that!" she gasped. He was cradling his forehead in his hand as she added, "I've never felt this happy around a man before. Not just because you're good in bed, Bobby. I've never needed someone physically all the time like this, because I've never been in love like this. I love you."

He opened his eyes and softly asked. "You do?"

She nodded and swiped at her tears. "Of course I do. It's just... I've never said that before. I've never been in love before. Showing you how I feel physically is the easiest way for me to try to make you understand that."

She was shaking with unshed tears as Bob pulled her against him and kissed her ear and the side of her neck. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I've never been with someone who loved me."

"I do, Molly. I love you. I want you to be my girlfriend," he whispered, running his big hands up and down her back.

"I kind of thought I already was," she replied with a soft laugh. She kissed his cheek. "But yeah, I definitely am now."

"Perfect." Bob's voice finally sounded calm, and this time when she kissed his lips, he returned every single one. 

"I've been thinking it for weeks, but I was scared to say it," she told him, her eyes fluttering closed. "Only two other people alive have ever heard those words from me, so if you think you're not important, Coach Cute Glasses, you're wrong." She opened her eyes, kissed the tip of his nose and said, "I love you."

------------------------

Only a minimal mess was made when Molly eventually eased herself off of Bob's lap after telling him she loved him about a hundred more times and assuring him it was not just physical. Now they were both fully dressed and walking across the parking lot toward the bar entrance hand in hand. 

"Is it bad that I'm a little nervous to meet the rest of your friends?" she whispered, looking up at him. 

"Don't be nervous. If anything, I'm the one who's nervous, Honey. They're all going to flirt with you relentlessly and try to get me flustered."

Molly laughed as he held the door open for her, and she walked inside the noisy bar where the jukebox was blaring. "I'll just tell them we had sex in the parking lot ten minutes ago. Then they will be the ones who are flutered."

"Please don't," he groaned. "And, Mo? Is it okay if I just do this...." He reached for the front of the dress shirt she had on and did the middle button. He knew he was blushing as he said, "I don't really want these guys looking at you there."

She smirked. "You don't want to make them jealous?"

Bob's lips parted in a soft smile before he kissed her forehead. "Just look at your face, Mo. Gorgeous. They'll be plenty jealous without knowing about your piercings."

"Bob," she whined. "Stop being so perfect, okay? Perfect boyfriends get blowjobs whenever they want them."

He was still blushing as he led her toward the pool table where the other aviators, minus Bradley, were all hanging out. "There they are!" Nat said, hopping off of her stool and heading toward them. And then Bob had to watch every single one of the guys look Molly up and down like she was a dessert platter while she gave Nat a little hug.

"Holy shit," Jake said, eyes soft as he laughed. "Bob, come on. Phoenix said you were bringing the girl you're dating."

"Yeah," Bob confirmed, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

"Bob," Jake gasped. "She's fucking hot."

"I know," he replied as Molly reached for his hand. "Guys, this is Molly. My girlfriend."

You could have heard a pin drop in the corner of the bar. Nat sighed and rolled her eyes before kicking Payback in the shin. He stumbled forward and offered Molly his hand. "Hi, I'm Payback. Or Reuben."

"Hi," Molly replied, shaking his hand. "I kind of wish I had a fun call sign. I'm just Molly."

"Oof," Jake whispered. "I can't think of a few call signs for her."

"Don't," Bob pleaded, shooting him a look.

"She's a smokeshow, Bob," Jake told him with pride in his voice. "I don't know how you did it, but excellent job."

"Thanks," he muttered, watching Fanboy and Coyote flirt and laugh with her. A moment later, Nat was leading Molly up to the bar to get drinks, and Bob dug his wallet out of his pocket. He tried to hand it to her, but she just kissed his cheek and whispered, "I love you," before pushing it back against his chest.

"How the hell did you manage to pull that one?" Coyote asked, watching Molly walk away in her tight shorts. "I've got to know."

"Seriously, Bob," Fanboy chimed in. "I mean, not to be rude, man, but damn."

Now his self esteem was taking a bit of a hit again, but when Molly came back, she pushed him down onto a stool and perched herself on his thigh. She handed him one of the beers she was holding and kissed him. "I love you," she crooned with a soft smile. "The more I say it, the better it feels." 

She sipped her drink as he wrapped his arm around her waist. Then they played a little pool and threw some darts, and Molly was never far from his arms. The guys were all still looking at him like he was some sort of magician, but she didn't seem to notice. She loved him. She kept telling him she loved him. 

She said it right in front of Nat, and Bob watched his friend blush, too. Because now Molly was a little tipsy, and she had her hand on his abs under his shirt. "Bobby, we should go home soon. I love you, and I wanna fuck you."

"Mo," he gasped, kissing the top of her head. "I love you, too. But everyone else can hear you, Honey."

"I don't care," she replied, licking his neck before she smiled at the guys. "You don't care if I tell Bob I love him and wanna fuck him, do you?"

They all looked at her, wide eyed and shaking their heads. 

"See, Lieutenant Floyd? They don't care."

Bob lasted another five minutes before she was dragging him out to the parking lot, ready to go home. 

--------------------------

Bob had Molly draped across him in bed on Sunday morning. The sky outside looked a little stormy, so they used that as an excuse to not move. "Let's just say put," he whispered, running his fingers along her arm. Goosebumps broke out in their wake, and she sighed. 

"Not even worth moving when we're so comfortable," she told him, squeezing his side. 

He was feeling so much better now about the way Molly responded to him physically. Now he knew that she loved him. They were in a relationship with a label. He thought he'd be able to enjoy the physical romance as much as he was enjoying the emotional romance now. 

Then their quiet cuddling was interrupted by his phone going off four times in a row with new text messages. Bob kissed her forehead and murmured, "Just when I was ready to stay right here until it was time for you to go to work."

Molly giggled and rolled off of him to reach for his phone. "I have to pee anyway." She handed him his phone and his glasses, and Bob watched her sashay out of his room completely naked. 

He groaned as he opened a bunch of messages from his sister Rebecca. "Oh no." He never responded to her about going to Piper's birthday party which was now just six days away. Really, he only wanted to go if Molly went with him, but asking her to meet his family was stressing him out. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, already climbing back into bed with him. His eyes were trained on her nipples as she eased herself down against his chest. The way her piercings pressed against him somehow calmed him now. He was just so used to her being here. 

"Do you want to go to Piper's birthday party with me?" he blurted out.

She ran her fingers through his hair with a smile. "When is it? I might have to change my work schedule."

"Saturday afternoon. Up in San Bernardino. And look, we haven't been dating very long, and my whole family is going to be there, so if you don't want to go, Honey, I totally understand."

"Oh," she gasped softly. "You want me to meet your family, Uncle Bob?"

He closed his eyes, unwilling to lie to her. "Desperately." He cracked one eye open to find her grinning at him before easing herself down his body.

"Perfect boyfriends get blowjobs," she reminded him before disappearing beneath the covers and wrapping her lips around him. She really must have thought he was perfect based on the way she got him off. And when she was done, she licked his tongue and told him she'd go to the birthday party. 

But when Saturday came, Bob found out that Molly had to give up her daytime shift to accommodate the party. She tried to shrug it off when he picked her up. "I'm just a little worried about making my rent with a day short of pay, but it'll be fine," she told him, slipping into his truck with the gift she insisted on buying. "I have money in savings."

Bob was about to tell her he'd pay her rent, but she leaned across the seat and kissed every viable thought out of his brain. So he put his truck in gear while Molly was in charge of the music, and the ninety minute drive to his parents' house felt like nothing when he was with her. 

When he pulled down their driveway, Molly was wiping her palms on her sundress. "I'm a little nervous," she admitted. "I've never met parents before." Once again, Bob couldn't understand how he was lucky enough to be Molly's first for so many things.

"They'll love you. My sister Rachel is ridiculous. You'll like her. And I'll be with you the entire time."

She nodded and crawled out his door behind him and into his arms. "If they don't like me, I'm blaming you." 

The introductions were even more shocking than the night at the Hard Deck in that Bob's entire family was looking at Molly with mixed expressions. Rebecca was excited to see her again since they had already met. Even Piper gave Molly a quick hug. But Bob's parents and his middle sister were looking at him with his arm around Molly with barely concealed shock. 

"I don't think they like me," Molly whispered, trying to dig her feet in.

"That's not it, Mo," he promised. "It's more like they can't believe I didn't make you up."

When Molly shook hands with his mom and then his dad and then Rachel, they all glanced at him. "Welcome!" his mom said. "The way Bob speaks about you, well... you seemed too good to be true, Molly!"

She shrugged with a little laugh. "Well, I'm just regular, old me."

"No, that's not true," Rachel replied with a smirk. "Bob must be ready to buy a ring or something, because the last time he brought a girl home, she dumped him the next day. And he vowed to never bring another one unless he was going to marry her."

Molly turned to look at Bob where he stood behind her. "Thanks, Rachel," he said with a fake smile and an unspoken promise that she would pay for that later. "Your mind is like a steel trap, isn't it?"

Rachel just shrugged and ate some potato chips. "Just keeping you honest. Anyway, Molly, it's really nice to meet you. I'll see you at your wedding."

Bob wanted to disappear. Betrayed by his own sister. He always did like Rebecca better. But then Molly surprised him by saying, "I'll let you know the color for the bridesmaids dresses."

Rachel smiled at her. And then his dad was taking her on a tour of their house. And then his mom was laughing as Molly told a funny story about a mishap in the emergency room. And then Molly was running around outside with the kids. 

"Bob, where did you find her?" his mom asked, grabbing him by the forearm and shaking him.

"At tee ball," he replied softly, watching Molly laughing as Piper sat down on her lap.

"Please, bring her back again. For a longer visit. When I have more time to talk to her."

"I will, mom."

---------------------------

Molly was exhausted when she said her goodbyes to Bob's family. The kids had worn her out all afternoon. But when his mom pulled her in for a hug, she felt like crying. She couldn't remember the last time she got a mom hug from anyone other than her own sister. And it felt so good, she ended up hugging her back for probably way longer than was actually appropriate.

"Thanks," Molly whispered. "Thanks for having me."

When his mom pulled away and looked at her, she said, "Bob promised me he'd bring you back again soon. I know he must be very serious about you, so hopefully we won't have to wait too long for another visit."

Molly swallowed past the lump in her throat, and she didn't know what compelled her to say anything as she whispered, "I love your son," like some sort of a lunatic. It must have been all the mom hugs that made her feel weak.

But he mom replied by pulling her in for another hug before Bob took her by the hand and led her out to his truck. It was getting dark, and the ride back to San Diego would get them in late. But Molly already knew she was welcome to crash with Bob for the night. She knew he would want her to.

But she was still surprised when Bob started rambling as he merged onto the highway. "I know it's probably too soon. And maybe I shouldn't even say anything. But I just can't seem to stop thinking about it. About how we never spend the night apart. Even when you work overnight, you end up in my bed in the morning. Or I end up at your place, just waiting for you to get home so we can go to sleep together." He paused, and she reached for his hand. He glanced her way with a nervous smile before he blurted out, "Molly, do you want to move in with me?"

"Oh," she gasped, delighted by the idea of if. In love with the idea of handing him his glasses every morning and knowing he would make her breakfast. Being together to binge watch documentaries and eat sushi. "Yes."

--------------------------

Moving in together! So, Bob is a stud. Was he always a stud, or does Molly bring it out in him? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 7

@theamuz

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@bradshawsbitch

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@yanna-banana

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@shrimping-for-all

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@chicomonks

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@ohgodnotagainn

@toobouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@tigermoon3

@noonenuts

@amiets2

[amomentsescape]

Hello! Can i ask for #4 and #9 with bubba, and #6 with (RZ) Michael please? Totally fine if you'd rather not, I just enjoy how you write them 🫶

October 2023 Halloween Prompt List

Bubba Sawyer x Reader, RZ! Michael Myers x Reader

A/N: I was able to squeeze your request in, so no worries! :)

Bubba Sawyer

#4: Going to a haunted house attraction

Surprisingly, this is his first time going

Even more surprisingly, the attraction seems to get to him a bit

Chasing and attacking random people? Totally cool

Having some adult jump out and scream at you? Not so much

Bubba can't help but get a bit fidgety while waiting in line

Partly from the actors, but also from the fact that he rarely interacts with other people that aren't his family or you

And once you guys are actually in the attraction, oh boy

Every jump scare and sound causes Bubba to let out squeaks and grunts

He grips onto your hand so tightly

You think he's going to rip your arm off the first half of the house

However, things take a turn when you enter one of the themed rooms

There are fake guts hanging from the ceiling, "dead" people sitting at the dining table

There was even fake blood dried on the floor

When Bubba saw this, he froze

You thought something was wrong until he let out a couple giggles

This soon turned into huge fits of laughter

Even the actor in the room looked confused

Bubba grabbed at one of the gut props and wiggled it around, looking at you before laughing in hysterics again

It was his way of telling you "I know what this is actually supposed to look like, and it's not this"

After that room, Bubba was a lot more relaxed

Some of the jump scares and costumes still got to him, but he felt more comfortable knowing that everything was indeed fake

Once you guys made it through the house, Bubba took both of your hands and bounced around happily

It was clear he had fun

And who would have guessed that Bubba would be scared of a man dressed as a demon and not of a room decked out in gore?

Go figure

#9: Costume shopping

The moment you even suggested going somewhere together, Bubba was all ears

He isn't exactly the biggest fan of people, but he loves spending time with you

Plus, Halloween was a bit more special

He could walk around happily in his mask and not feel judged

Besides, you were going to a costume shop anyways

No one was going to say a thing

When you both first walked in, Bubba was taken aback by the amount of clothing in the building

He didn't even know where to begin

Luckily, he had you to grab his hand and lead him around the place

He was very intrigued with all the mask options

Of course, they weren't as "genuine" as his, but he thought the different colors and monsters were cool

He also liked turning on all the animatronics and decorative lights (although a few made him jump)

When you walk by the "adult" section of the store, his eyes go wide

You may not be able to fully see it, but his face is beet red under his mask

You even tease him a bit by picking one of them up and swinging it around, acting like you were considering buying it

He stayed pretty close to you after that

But eventually, you both found some cute couples' costumes to try

He likes the idea of matching with you

You guys don't end up buying a costume, but you did leave with a few string lights and the promise to come back later

Michael Myers

#6: Going through a corn maze

This behemoth of a man isn't exactly going to get lost in one of these

He can literally see over every stalk of corn

And even if that wasn't the case, his sense of direction was ridiculous

You could put him in the middle of the forest and he'd find his way home

So when you first suggested going, he just looked at you

Walking through a bunch of crops? Why would he want to do that?

But you insisted on going and talked about it so excitedly that Michael gave in

The last thing he wanted was to have you all disappointed and sad

He cares about you in his own way

But his one stipulation was that it had to be just you two

So you managed to find a corn maze in the middle of nowhere

Michael just let you lead him wherever once you got there

Even if he knew you were basically going around in circles, he just let you drag him along

He didn't want to ruin your fun, even if he was bored

Watches you touch all the corn and pick up little stones

He even lets you hold his hand as you trudge your way through

You eventually have to break down and ask for his help though

There was no way you were going to make it out on your own

And without even needing to look, he simply points which direction to go

Secretly likes you depending on him for these types of things

[alessiathepirate]

Scream

TOUCH STARVED: Ethan Landry x fem!reader

Summary: Do you ever wonder what the source of the hunger for love is?

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

I was inspired by literally half a sentence from the movie, but still... we love our little murder boy.

Warnings: SPOILERS! (for Scream 6, but there are only some references), swearing, mentioned/referenced violence, hurt/comfort

•••

Ethan Landry was most definitely touch starved.

She noticed that pretty quickly after they started dating. The way an adorable, silly smile formed on his face as she kissed his cheek or played with his hair was too cute to miss. When she gently touched his face or put her arms around his neck or on his shoulders while they were kissing, the way he ran after her touch and presence was a heartwarming sight to see. Not to mention the slight blush what was still present everytime she gave him a small compliment, especially in front of others.

And God, she loved that when they were alone they were basically attached at the hip, hands or thighs always touching.

But even though she loved him and his presence more than anything, she couldn't help but wonder where that touch starvation came from. She knew that it's not always a pretty thing, especially not the source of it. Someone so hungry for love and peace - it comes from somewhere deep within.

She got the answer to that after the murders started to happen again, after another Ghostface showed up. And just like she thought, the source wasn't a pretty thing at all.

She woke up one night, legs tangled in the sheets, hands burried under the pillow to the feeling that someone sat down on the bed. She immediately opened her eyes in panic as she sat up, eyes trying to get used to the darkness. The phone calls and murders made her jumpy and paranoid, and with that more protective - both the first and last thing she did everyday was calling her friends, making sure they are fine.

The panic disappeared after she realized there was nothing to be scared of, the only other person in the room was Ethan, her lover and with that the rightful owner of the bedroom she was sleeping in.

"Ethan?" she called out to her boyfriend as she wiped the sleep out of her eyes. " 'Everything all right?"

It took a few seconds for him to answer. At first she thought he was starteled, that she scared him with her sudden movements, but his shoulders didn't move and nor did his arms.

"Everything's all right, sweetheart, you can go back to sleep."

Her tiredness disappeared as she looked at him, her back straightening like a hunter's dog sensing something in the dark. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked at him, at his back because he didn't turn around.

She had never seen him hurt before. She's seen him happy, sad and tired... but hurt? That was a new thing and she didn't like it. She didn't like the way his voice became lower or how pained it sounded.

She climbed closer to him in bed, sat down on her calves behind him as she gently hugged him, one of her hands running through his hair, playing with his curles.

His body reacted like it always did, at first he froze then got used to the feeling of being touched, trying to unknowingly get closer to her to try and get lost in her presence.

"You can talk to me, E. You know that, right? I'm here for you."

She kissed his neck, then one of his shoulderblades through the material of his t-shirt, doing her best to try and make the tension from his body disappear.

He took a hold of her hand, the one that was resting on his shoulder and kissed it, ran his fingers along the back of it.

"I just had a phone call with my dad."

The sentence was sudden, but the honesty didn't make her anxious. Instead she kept on playing with his curles.

He never talked about his family. At least not to her. This was a sign of trust and it made her dizzy.

"Did something happen?"

"No, it's... I don't know." his uncertainty was painful to hear. "Nothing has to happen sometimes, you know."

He never talked like this and it scared her.

"You do love me, right?"

She didn't know whart hurt more: the way he said it or that he felt like he has to ask to make sure she does.

"What are you talking about, E?" she gently tried to make him look at her and when their eyes met she continued: "Of course I do! 'Wouldn't leave for the world, 'you understand? You're my pretty boy" she said, calling him what their friends teased them with "and I love you more than anything."

There it was - the slight blush after a compliment, his cheeks became pink and she noticed that like a sixth sense even in the dark.

"What made you say that?"

"It's just... everything is always about my brother and sometimes he forgets that I'm also his son."

She didn't ask questions. She just leaned closer to his face, despite their weird position, and kissed him, slow and gentle as her hands softly explored his body and hugged him, making him feel damn well that to her he is precious. And he kissed back, but so hungrily that her heart hurt. She felt him shiver and sensed that his heart is full of love and adoration. She didn't understand - she never will, how no one appreciates him as much as she does when he has so much love to give.

She broke the kiss after a while and smiled at him.

"Well I can tell you that you are my boyfriend and I love you more than anything. And I'll for sure kick your dad and brother in the balls if I have to."

In that moment she understood. She understood why he reacted to her touch the way he did, she understood where that starvation for love came from. That night she felt her heart grow, it became full of the need to protect and love and prove.

As they lied back down and pulled the covers up, Ethan hugged her tightly, not wanting to let go. And while she made sure to remind him how loved he is, she forgot to realize that Ethan never mentioned that he has a brother before.

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 2833

“Where in the actual heck did you lead me?”

“Trying to figure that out right now. How many turns have you taken?”

“You mean to the left or right?” you inquired cautiously, steps splashing in the shallow water of the sewer tunnel you currently found yourself in. You thought that since you had taken this exact same path literally yesterday you might remember the way. Well, you thought wrong, which was why you called up the man you were on your way to meet for assistance.

Donnie huffed over the phone. “Both, preferably. Why would you go traversing through a complex labyrinth of a sewer system, not knowing where you’re going, and not keeping track of where you’ve gone?”

“Uhh, misguided faith in myself?”

“Eh. Fair enough. I’ll send auxiliary support your way.”

“‘Auxiliary support?’ What is that supposed to-”

Before you could even finish your thought, not to mention get a response, the call ended.

You gaped. Either the signal cut out, which was feasible in the sewers, or he ended the call. For Donnie’s sake, he’d better have hoped it was the former.

You froze in the eerie silence and dark, breathing tersely. Your hands hung uncomfortably off your sides, shoulders drawn tight.

What were you supposed to do now?

Well, retracing your steps seemed better than continuing further into uncharted territory. Following that logic, you pivoted and meandered cautiously back from where you came.

The tunnel came upon an especially dark section, so you turned on your phone’s flashlight. Your field of vision was small, but at least you could directly in front of you. Better than nothingness..

Suddenly, a strange noise entered your ears. Some sort of mechanical whirring. It sounded vaguely in front of you, though the reverberation from the tunnels made it hard to discern.

You tensed up again.

What if it was from those goons from last night? Or, even worse, what if it was-

As the source of the odd whirring sound came into view, you paused.

“Ohhhh my goodness…” Your startled reflexes swiftly softened as you registered the little purple drone levitating before you.

A very boop-able beak was on what you assumed to be its face, with petite propellers acting as limbs. Bottom line, it was adorable.

“Woah, how’s it hanging, dude?” the drone greeted. “D told me you got a bit turned around down here, but we’ll get you to the lair real quick.”

“Woah.” You admired the tech, tilting your head at it. “So, am I talking to Donnie or an algorithm right now?”

“Neither! The name’s S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. broski!” it- he introduced himself.

“Huh. Nice to meet you, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.,” you responded and gave your name in return. “Would you mind please showing me to Donnie?”

“No problem!” the drone floated higher excitedly before whipping around. “Follow me. We’ll be back to the lab in a jiff.”

“Thanks!”

You trailed along the polite drone in silence, weaving and wandering through dim channels until he spoke up.

“So, you and D are cool?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You tipped your head down inquisitively. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

You barked out a laugh at how abrupt his sass was. “Oh?”

“Yeah! He can be super overbearing sometimes- like, won’t-even-let-me-out-of-the-lair overbearing, you know? He’s gotten better about it, but he can still be way protective.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you offered. The drone did not seem to agree.

“Oh, it can, bro! One time, he padlocked my propellers and I ended up in, like, a gang almost-”

As your conversation trailed off and you two moved, the area around you grew lighter and you found yourself in the empty atrium of the lair. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. guided you up to the second floor, down a dim hallway, and to a stop in front of large, metallic doors as his rant about Donnie came to a close.

“Thanks, little guy. I appreciate the help.” You smiled, and the drone tilted his head and returned the gesture.

“Of course, bro! Just let me know if you get too bored with Donnie. Us cool people can hang out and do something less bogus.”

You chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”

With a small salute, you sent him whirring off.

You turned to face the sturdy-looking doors before you. Just as you moved to rap on them, the doors opened with a heavy sound of air. You took a confused glance to the right, left, before stepping into the lab.

The room consisted mostly of metallic silver hues with tables and shelves stacked up with a plethora of technological treasures. Purple mood lights illuminated the room softly, though it was still a lot more effective than your flashlight was.

Sounds of clinging and clanging proliferated from somewhere behind a shelf. You followed them, expecting to find your companion tinkering on something - perhaps the invention he was researching at the library?

Instead, you turned the corner to see him using the titanium arms that extended from his battle shell to swipe what was probably a literal ton of empty energy drinks off of his desk and into a trash can beside it.

You interrupted his tidying up with a cough to announce your presence.

Startled, he snapped his head back to look at you, his technology not ceasing to clear the irrelevant items from his desk.

“Oh. You made it. Congratulations,” he said, though his monotonous tone did not invoke any sentiment of felicitations.

“Yeah, I made it, little thanks to you.”

“I take it S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. behaved himself?”

“He was an angel.” You put a hand over your heart and walked up to him just as a thought struck you. “By the way, how did you know where to send S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“That is unimportant right now. What matters iiiis-” he paused to gesture to his desk, “-science! Engineering, to be more specific, but we can delve into that more later.”

“Hm.” You leaned over the desk, viewing a highly detailed blueprint and sheet of notes. The thought that he probably  definitely tracked your call faded as you immersed yourself in his work. “You mentioned a prototype of this yesterday?”

“I admire your tenacity, but would you not prefer to discuss the workings of the machine before seeing the results?” he queried.

“Is it not helpful to vary in learning techniques? I’m game for some visual learning.”

“Sigh, if you insist.”

Donnie turned around, delicately grabbed an object from a shelf beside him, set it down on the desk.

The metal object was spherical, for the most part, with some geometric patterns on the bottom to prop it up. It was sizable, though wieldy enough to be portable. On the side of it was an ingrained insignia you’d seen on his other tech, and beside that was an odd yet intentional divot in the side.

“About this prototype for the generator-” Donnie glanced to the side, “it’s been built, but I don’t have the juice for it yet.”

“So you don’t have the energy source for your energy source?”

He deadpanned at your teasing. “It’s a prototype for a reason.” 

“Is that dent where the mystic crystal or whatever is supposed to go?”

“Yes, it is intended to be for a crystal, though I’ll take any viable source I can get. Now, shall we discuss the behind the scenes?”

You nodded.

Before crashing into his own chair, he pulled up a stool for you. Oddly considerate, but you wouldn’t complain.

From talk of sinusoidal waves, frequencies, output and input responses from certain mystic crystals, the conversation went into a plenitude of tangentially related topics, the minutiae of which he had to explain to you, but you got the majority of it. However, such conversation came at a price, for one cannot blab and/or yap for an hour consecutively without obtaining a splitting headache and requiring sustenance.

Eventually, you cleared your throat to get his attention off of the blueprints for the energy source. The turtle met your gaze curiously.

“All this ‘being a genius’ stuff has left me positively parched,” you spoke up, popping the p’s. “You have anything to drink in here? Or is the lair’s kitchen better?”

It felt kind of weird to refer to his residence as a lair, but you were trying.

“This is a laboratory; it would be reprehensible to bring food or beverage in here.”

The two of you glanced down at the miniature trash can adjacent to his desk and the cans overflowing from it.

“Your trash begs to differ.”

He clicked his tongue. “Those cans are empty now, and I don’t have more. We probably have water in the fridge.”

“How about we go somewhere instead? Go for a walk, head to a cafe, get some fresh air. I would prefer not getting lost here again.”

Donnie hummed, tapped his chin.“Not a bad idea. You’re buying, though.”

“Sure!”

He blinked. “I was joking. Of course I’m going to buy my own beverage.”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, hopping up from your seat. “Do you want to grab a coat or something? The wind chill’s bad today.”

“Forcing me out of my lab for food, insisting I prepare for the weather, if I didn’t know better I might say you care about me.” Donnie raised a playful eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And I haven’t forced you anywhere. For legal purposes.”

“You can wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Donnie hopped up and exited the lab, presumably to get some warmer clothes.

As he slipped out of the room, you traced a finger over the blueprints he had gushed over so adamantly. So much time and effort and knowledge had been poured into every aspect of this project, and that, not to mention the complexity of it, was enough to gain your respect. You pulled out your phone, snapped a quick picture of the paper, not the prototype for now, and slipped it back into your pocket.

You waited for an uncomfortable moment, literally twiddling your thumbs, trying to seem casual. There was a literal trove of things to check out or explore in the room, but you did not know how much time you had. 

And you couldn’t risk getting caught.

So you waited. And waited.

Okay, either Donnie ditched you or he just took forever to get ready.

Thinking back to how late he was to April’s party heavily implied the latter.

After another moment of just standing next to his desk, the sound of footsteps padding closer drew your attention up.

Lo and behold, in the doorway stood Donnie with crossed arms.

His mask and goggles remained the same, steadfast on his head, but he did put on some clothes. A snug black turtleneck and flowy lavender cargo pants had joined the ensemble, though there was still a severe lack of shoes.

“Okay, Steve Jobs.” The comment slipped out of your mouth before you could process it. It came across lightheartedly enough, though, based on Donnie’s grin.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, because that’s going straight up here.” He tapped his index to his temple and started walking out of the lab. You followed after.

“I guess with all that square footage something’s bound to go up there.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

You elbowed

“I’m kidding. Your brain capacity is bound to be maxed out already with all that knowledge.”

“Thanks? That- wasn’t derogatory, right?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re patronizing me?”

“Sort of. I was mostly calling you smart, in a roundabout way.”

“Huh. So, thanks?”

“Welcome.”

You two quickly made your way out of the lair and onto the surface’s streets.

You realized just as quickly that you had no idea where you were headed to.

“Uhh, D?”

“I know. Unless you have other suggestions, I know a place nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, please lead the way. I genuinely had no idea where to go.”

“Ha,” he grinned, taking the lead down a few streets and corridors and bringing you two to a quaint coffee shop. String lights, beige bricks, sleek tables and booths, the store was modern and comely.

Of course, with it being New York City, the line was huge, but this place was concealed well enough that it at least wasn’t down the road.

While waiting in line, you didn’t talk much, instead opting to either scroll on your phones or try to figure out which kind of coffee or tea you wanted.

As you neared the register, still having no idea what you wanted, you passed the small refrigerated shelf of items.

“Oh, I’ve seen these before!” Your attention caught on some bottles of Yakult, so you selected one of the original flavors. “Never tried it though. Want to try it together?”

“Why not?” he grinned uncertainly and flashed a couple of thumbs up.

“That’s the spirit!”

You two made it to the register and ended up buying the probiotic drinks along with a couple of baked goods. Before he could make a move to pay for at least his items, you swooped in and bought them all with an innocent grin.

His glare saw through your unassuming demeanor.

You got your confections and drinks before making your way to an available booth. You took up a seat across from him and tried the new drink.

“I like it.” You nodded. It was citrusy, smooth, overall pleasant to indulge in.

“Oh. Mmmm…” he shuddered, forcing it down with a queasy smile on his face.

“Huh. You hate it,” you observed bemusedly. You relished the panic that washed over him at your comment.

“What? Nooo. This- this is very… not bad,” he faltered under your smug stare.

“It’s fine!” you reassured as you slid his Yakult toward yourself. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

“But-” he interjected, glancing down at the accursed drink, then back up to you. “But you bought it for me. I hardly consider it amiable to discard something that someone else purchased.”

“Well, luckily for us both, it’s not going to waste.”

Before he had the opportunity to ask you to elaborate, you took a long sip of the probiotic beverage. You smiled while doing so, coming face to face with a floored turtle when you set it back down on the table.

He stared numbly at you before stammering out, “I- you- do you have any idea how many germs we just shared?” 

“Oh well,” you shrugged. “Despite the atrocious things that come out of it, I think you have a fairly clean mouth. Now, how about we get you something else to drink? Something that you don’t find atrocious.”

“Fine, but I’ll be paying for it this time.”

You smiled knowingly, hand already fastened on your wallet. “We’ll see.”

The grin stayed smugly planted on your face as you made it to the front counter and slapped your payment down before he could.

“You’re just gonna have to settle with buying next time,” was your response to his scowl.

“Next time?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

You shrugged playfully. “Unless you don’t want to do this again. I’m good either way.”

“Um, no, n-next time’s on me,” he said hesitantly.

“Alright then. Do you want to tell the barista what you want?” you urged, indicating toward a visibly disinterested worker behind the counter.

“Right!” Donnie finally made it back onto this plane of reality and sprung into action, making his selection from the refrigerated section beside the counter.

“Flavorless juice?” Your jaw dropped as he slid it to the worker.

“Uh, yeah? They’ve got the good kind here. 50% less flavor…”

“Okay then…” you opted to judge him silently and let the man enjoy his juice, albeit an atrocious variety of juice.

You started walking back to the booth before a notification on your phone made you pause. Taking it out, your eyes widened.

“Oh, uh, I spent a lot longer with you than I thought I did. Um, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll catch you later?”

“Y-Yeah! Later!”

You left him standing there with a smile and a couple of finger guns before bounding off toward the exit and out of his view.

Once you left his field of vision, he looked back down at his drink. The drink you bought for him. The drink you spent additional time and money on to get for him just because he couldn’t texturally handle the other one you’d bought him.

What you mentioned earlier about doing this again sounded quite nice.

Perhaps, instead of waiting for fate or probability or whatever was at play to cause you to run into each other again, it could be a more active endeavor, something conscious.

That didn’t sound half bad to him.

(chapter artwork HERE)

Taglist~ @rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney