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#life is strange hell is empty
pricefieldizcanon · 10 months
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Chloe would do "anything" for Rachel ❤️
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Rachel is Chloe's world (besides Max), in Life Is Strange: Before the Storm.
When Rachel asks Chloe if she could do something for her, Chloe's response is "anything". Chloe looks at Rachel with such love in her eyes, and Rachel looks at Chloe in the same way.
They are BOTH always there for each other. ❤️
Screenshots taken by me.
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thingsasbarcodes · 21 days
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Life is Strange: Before the Storm - Episode 3: Hell is Empty
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m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e · 1 year
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Mild Life is Strange spoilers (?)
The majority of Chapter 5 of LIS (besides the very end of course) is what I imagine a bad trip feels like
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cinnamon-galaxies · 6 months
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Hi! I saw that your request box was open. Could I request a Alastor x fem!reader who is a mornigstar, charlie's older sister and she is engaged with Alastor. In episode 5, Dad beat Dad, I thought their relationship is kept secret and was revealed later on shocking lucifer and their friends
Dad beat Fiancé beat Dad
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Pairings: Alastor x Fem!Reader / Alastor x Morningstar!Reader Tags: hurt/comfort, (a little bit of) fluff, secret relationship/engagement, Alastor vs Lucifer, Morningstar!Reader, Fem!Reader Warnings: language/swearing, kiss, argument/bickering, reader is Charlie’s older sister, English is not my first language! Summary: You are Charlie's older sister and secretly engaged to Alastor. When your sister invites your father to the hotel to ask for his help with her rehabilitation program, you look forward to his arrival. However, things take a turn when tensions escalate between your father and your fiancé, leading to heated bickering. Overcome with frustration, you finally lash out and accidentally reveal your engagement to the King of Hell and the hotel's residents. Wordcount: 5.4k A/N: This one turned out so long! I really hope you like it and that the story meets your expectations! English is not my first language so I want to apologize for possible grammar and spelling mistakes. I really tried my best to make as few mistakes as possible!
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“Well, I’m actually running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw our commercial,” you heard your younger sister speak into the telephone, releasing a nervous chuckle here and there. Then a sigh escaped her lips. “Listen, dad, I’ve got kind of a big ask…”   You stood a few feet away and stared at her, unsure what to think of this whole idea. Was it really that smart to ask your father to organize another meeting with heaven? The last one already didn’t end well. But what other choice was left for you? Still, it released a weird feeling inside your guts, now that you watched Charlie calling your dad, since your and your sister’s relationships with him were kind of… special. Your father tended to distance himself from the both of you for the most time, bathing in his own emotional dilemma and not even trying to do anything about it. Thus neglecting the both of you. Well, at least he called your sister five months ago regarding that meeting with Adam in heaven’s local embassy. But when it comes to you it’s been even longer since you’ve talked. Maybe a year? Or even longer. You didn’t actually know and also some part within you didn’t even want to. But what you knew is that you missed him. Although, in contradiction, you weren’t really fond of him at the moment. It’s not that you didn’t love him. He was your father, regardless, and you both shared a lot of wholesome and fun memories. But since your mother had left him seven years ago, things had turned out strange and you didn’t really approve of his weird-ass behavior towards you and your sister. Still, you hoped your father would agree to help you out. Maybe, just maybe, there was a probability that you saw him again. You had so much to tell him. Your life has changed a lot since you started supporting your sister in the hotel. And even before, when you met Alastor…
Lost in your thoughts you missed parts of the phone call and as your consciousness returned to reality, you saw your sister taking the phone down and ending the call. Curious about the outcome you cocked your head. “What did he say?”
   “Well,” Charlie stared at an empty space for a brief moment, “it seems that dad will be coming over.”
   Your mouth fell agape and your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really?” you asked her and a huge smile grew on your face. “That’s awesome! When?”
   Charlie proudly straightened her back and stemmed her hands into her hips. “We have an hour until he gets here.”
   You turned around to face the other residents who sat on the couch and raised your voice, “Okay people. Dad’s on his way, so we’re getting this place presentable and we are all going to make an amazing impression. Let’s go!”
   That’s when Vaggie spoke up, “That’s a great idea! Husker, Angel and I will go get some decorations for the lobby,” her eyes wandered down to Niffty, “Niffty, you and Sir Pentious will bake some cookies so we have something to eat when it’s time for coffee.”
   Nifty nodded exaggeratedly, almost vibrating from that force she put into her motion. She instantly grabbed Sir Pentious’s hand and dragged him down the hallway towards the kitchen. When Husker, Angel and Vaggie went to get the decorations from the storage room you and Charlie were left alone. 
   “Are you as excited as I am?” You asked her with a moving voice and examined your sister expectantly. It was no secret that Charlie took that whole situation with your father a bit differently from you. While you almost imploded waiting to get a chance to meet him again, your sister was more reserved and kept herself a bit more distant from him. Even though she was the one your father seemed to favor when it came to dealing with the conflict with heaven. It didn’t matter that you were the older daughter… 
   “Ahm… I don’t know,” Charlie responded nervously stroking her neck, “I mean, yes, I am. But at the same time…” She hesitated and you put your hand on her shoulder.
   “Don’t worry, sis. I can understand,” you reassured her with a calm voice and smiled at her with genuine eyes. You could feel her shoulders relax under your supporting gesture.
   “Thank you,” she responded and returned your smile. “It’s just… You know, since he and mom split, I often don’t feel like his daughter anymore. Yet he sounded very excited to come over.”
   You took a deep breath and removed your hand from her shoulder. “We’ll see how things are going when he arrives.”
   Charlie chuckled. “Well, I think you should go and inform Alastor about our special guest,” she requested, raising her eyebrows in concern. Charlie was the only person at the hotel who knew about your secret relationship with him. When you decided to knock on the door to propose your support to your sister, you and Alastor were already dating. In fact, you were the one who dragged him here because – regardless of his fearful and sketchy reputation – you knew he’d make a great hotelier and protector for the residents during future exterminations. But you both didn’t introduce yourselves as a couple right away. Instead, you found common ground in letting your sister know but keeping it hidden from the other residents. There were several reasons you both had decided against making your relationship public: Alastor’s reputation as the Radio Demon, yours as Lucifer’s oldest daughter, the gossip, the media… These and many more were all things you didn’t want to deal with. Especially since Alastor was a very private person who despised showing affection outside his private space and you, as a person who had no desire to brag about your partner, were totally fine with it. What happened in private chambers stayed in private chambers. That was your agreement, and if you let your friends know about your relationship, there would be too much risk that it would eventually become public. The only other person next to Charlie, and outside the hotel, who knew about your and Alastor’s connection, was his decades-long friend Rosie.
Repeating your sister's request in your head you nodded in agreement. It was the best to prepare Alastor. Even though an hour alone wouldn’t be long enough for him to digest the fact that he was about to meet your father. “Oh, I think he’ll be excited about the news,” you responded with a sarcastic tone and couldn’t help but release a malicious laugh. Oh, how much he will hate this...
You heard Charlie laughing along and shaking her head in amusement. But as quickly as the amusement appeared, it disappeared as you continued to think about the fact that Alastor was actually going to meet your father. With a deep breath you dropped your smile and lowered your voice. “Do you think it would be a good idea to tell dad about Alastor and me?”
   “Ahm…” Charlie seemed to think about it more carefully before commenting, “I actually don’t know… I wish I could tell you but that’s something you and Alastor have to decide. First of all, I’d wait until after they had their first impressions of each other. Then… maybe… introduce him to the truth? I mean, if you and Alastor plan to stay together, what I hope – I mean… It’s obvious, why else would you date if it isn’t for staying together?” She chuckled at how much she was lost in her words and cleaned her throat. “I’m sorry. What I mean to say is that it would be beneficial for your shared future if you let dad know. At least at some point in the future.”
   You nodded in understanding and gifted her a slight smile. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll talk to him about this later. First of all, I need to prepare him for meeting his soon-to-be father in law.” You laughed and excused yourself before you left the lobby and went upstairs.
   When you arrived at Alastor’s radio station you knocked on the door.
   “You may come in!” you heard Alastor’s dulled voice through the door and opened it. When you entered the radio station you immediately saw him sitting at his desk, leaning over some papers and holding a pen in his hand. When you closed the door, he placed the pen to the side and turned to look at you.
   “Why hello, darling,” he greeted you, his signature smile on his face but his red eyes revealing a neutral expression. “What brings you here?”
   “Well...” You took a deep breath and strolled towards him with your hands folded behind your back and your lips pressed to your teeth. “I’ve got some news for you that you’ll probably hate.”
   “Oh?” he responded curiously and tilted his head to the side. His red hair swayed with the movement.
   You arrived at his desk and leaned against the tabletop, your front mostly faced towards him. You tilted your head in the same direction as he did and couldn’t manage to suppress an amused smile. “My dad will be here in less than an hour,” you said with a cocky voice and watched Alastors expression shift as his lips curled up around his smile and his eyes immediately twitched. An awkward silence fell over the room before he broke it with a snippy tone, “You’re right. I hate that news.” His neck returned to a straight and more natural position and you chuckled.
   “Vaggie’s the one to blame. She came up with the idea that Charlie should call him to ask for help because she could no longer bear seeing my sister ripping her hair out in despair over her missing rehabilitation success,” you explained and a growl escaped Alastor’s throat. He already didn't like Vaggie and now he probably liked her even less.
   “Splendid,” he said without enthusiasm and stood up from his chair, grabbing his microphone cane and leaning on it. Now taller than you, you had to tilt your head back to be able to look him in the eyes. “How about I excuse myself and disappear for another set of seven years?”
   “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” you responded, raised your index finger and waved it in front of him. “You will stand your ground and behave. It’s just my dad.”
   “He’s the king of hell, darling.”
   “And that's why you'll be going down there and prove to him that you're a worthy partner for his princess daughter.”
   He gritted his teeth and your smile widened as you nonchalantly brushed the wrinkles out of his coat.
   “Are you questioning my abilities, darling?” He asked, placing one of his hands on top of yours, thus stopping your movements and squeezing it.
   You felt your cheeks blush at his affectionate action and stepped closer to him, your body now close enough that it almost touched his. You could feel the warmth radiating off him and tilted your head slightly, your eyes still locked with his. “No, I’m not. And that’s exactly why I want you to do as I said.”
   “Oh, is her dear royal highness misusing her mightiness to give me an order?” he asked with a low and unusually soft voice and a shiver ran down your spine. Oh, how you loved it when he became flirty. His charm was able to captivate you instantly, weakening your legs and waking those tingling butterflies in your stomach. He removed your hands from his coat and pulled you closer to him. Your body now touching his, you felt the urge to rest your head into the crook of his neck but resisted.
   “She indeed is. And you better behave, peasant,” you teased him back and Alastor narrowed his eyes at you degrading him like this.
   He let go of one of your hands and instead cupped your cheek before using his fingers to lift your chin up. “You seem to forget that I’m your finacé”, he purred, leaning in closer until only a few inches separated your noses from touching. His hot breath stroked your face and you could’ve sworn that his eyes had turned to a darker hue.
   Without further hesitation he pulled you into a tender kiss. His lips brushed over yours and you leaned in closer, succumbing yourself completely to him. Your free hand roamed up and slid through his hair, pressing his face closer to yours. After a few moments of togetherness both of you let go of each other.
   “We should return to the foyer. My dad can arrive any minute,” you said and stroked his cheek before heading towards the door. You could hear Alastor sigh behind you.
   “Just as a reminder: I can’t promise you things will go well.”
   You rolled your eyes as you left the radio station together. “At least try.”
   After you entered the foyer most preparations were already done and it didn’t take long until your father arrived. Your body was shaking from excitement as you and Charlie went up to the door and your sister opened it.
   "Charlie!,” your father shouted with joy. A huge grin sat on his face and his yellow eyes sparkled as his gaze fell on your sister who stood much closer to him. He held out his arms and approached her, pulling her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you!”
   “It’s good to see you too, dad,” Charlie pressed through the tight hug of her father, overwhelm and a little bit of uncomfort in her expression.
   When Lucifer let go of her his eyes fell on you. "Y/N! You’re here too?” his pupils dilated in surprise and you immediately found yourself wrapped in his arms as well.
   “Dad!” you greeted him as you placed your hands around his torso and squeezed, the soft fragrance of his cologne entering your nose. He smelled the same he always did, the scent taking you back to the past when your family was still together and healthy. It was wonderful to be this close to him after such a long time and you wished this moment could last longer. You looked to the side and saw Alastor standing near your sister. But what you didn’t see was one of his eyes twitching at your father’s gesture.
   You let go of each other and Charlie held out her hand, spinning and pointing at the lobby. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”
   The other residents greeted him with waving hands from afar and your father smiled back at them, walking through the lobby and letting his gaze wander around. “Wow, this place looks, uh…” he twisted his mouth in an unpleasant manner and frowned, searching for the right words. He chuckled nervously and you and Charlie exchanged glances as he stammered around, turning to the side and surveying the establishment as if he was a property inspector. You could tell that nervousness spread across Charlie’s face as she probably hoped his words wouldn’t be too dismissive. You shrugged your shoulders at her to dismiss your father’s unsettling behavior and followed him.
   “What do you think, dad?” you dared to ask him in hopes he’d come up with a response a little faster if you pushed on him a little.
   “It’s got a lot of character,” he eventually said and winched with a squeak when he turned around and laid eyes on the bar. “What in the unholy hell is that?” he asked repulsively and pointed to the swampy-looking counter decorated with skulls and two full snake skeletons wrapped around the poles. The green wood paneling disrupted the noble red wallpaper of the looby, making it appear like an eyesore amidst the otherwise mostly luxurious decor.
   A dark shadow crawled around the floor and took the form of Alastor who appeared right next to him. “Just some of the renovations we had done! ” he explained, pointing his cane at the bar, his signature smile wide and confident before he turned towards Lucifer and leaned on his cane. “Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”
   “And you are?” Lucifer asked with raised eyebrows, a skeptical tone in his voice.
   You, again, exchanged glances with Charlie and held your breath. The moment has come in which your father and your financé had their first contact and somehow you got the feeling that this won’t end well. Your sister seemed to be fearing the same and she stepped closer to you. Her presence calmed your tension at least a little. 
   “Alastor,” your finacé introduced himself, “Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure!” He shook your fathers hand and you could see the disapproval in both their eyes, before they let go. Your father grimaced while Alastor wiped his hands over his coat.
   This most definitely won’t end well. But before you and Charlie could say something, Alastor continued, “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life.”
   You breathed in sharply. Your father didn’t seem to take his comment well as his expression immediately turned to annoyance. You and Charlie both approached them, your sister standing next to your father while you kept closer to Alastor. You really hoped that he’d notice your disapproval over how things were going and slow down a bit. But you knew him well enough to be sure he wouldn’t notice the tension in the room and also wouldn't care if he did.
   “Who is this?” your father asked, his eyes fixated on the demon before him. “Who’s this now? Are you the bellhop?”
   Alastor laughed in response. “No! I’m the host of the hotel. You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast,” he explained.
   Your father pretended to ponder his words for a very short moment but then denied with a derogatory snort. “Nope! I guess that’s why Charlie called it the ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” He laughed at his pun, this time more maliciously. The tension grew stronger and you didn’t even realize that you held your breath and pressed your fists so tightly together that your nails painfully stung your palms. Your sister, on the other hand, nervously rubbed her hands.
   Hiding his offense, Alastor piled into your father’s laughter, “It was actually my idea.”
   “Well, it’s not very clever!” your father responded, increasing his laugh.
   Alastor did the same and leaned in closer, “Fuck you.”
   “Alastor!” you yelled at him in shock and disbelief over his rude words and took him by his arm, dragging him to the side while your sister shoved your father into the other direction.
   “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you scolded him with a lowered voice to keep your conversation as private as possible. He’d never been someone who cussed so why did he have to do this now of all times?
   “He started it,” Alastor explained, keeping his face turned in the other direction to avoid eye contact.
   You breathed in sharply, anger boiling within you as you hissed, “I don’t care about who did what. You were supposed to make a good impression!”
   “Excuse me, dear, but it seems that your father and I don’t get along. And this seems to be based on mutuality. I don’t know if you noticed this but he already looked at me disapprovingly before we even exchanged words.”
   Oh, you did notice this. But you didn’t care because in this moment it was important for both of them to at least pretend to tolerate each other. You couldn’t afford your father and your finacé to already disembowel each other during their first encounter. Important aspects of your shared future relied on their correlation. And… Was Alastor even listening to you?!
   You snatched his cane out of his hands and spinned it around.
   Alastor finally turned to look at you, his teeth gritted and his eyebrows pushed together. His gaze became softer as he eyed your expression but he still seemed tense.
   “You’ll put this right, Alastor. Or otherwise…” You don’t finish your sentence and instead poke the pointy end of his cane between his ribs.
   “Fine,” he growled and took his cane back.
   You both turned around and saw Charlie pushing your father in your direction, her arm resting on his shoulder while she talked to him insistently with a calm but worried voice, “Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!”
   Alastor took a step closer, tapping his fingertips on his cane. “Charlie has a very unique vision,” he started and stood next to her, forcing himself to sound as honest and courteous as possible, “I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”
   “Thank you, Alastor”, your sister responded, ignoring your frowning father who looked anything but amused.
   Alastor continued, “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and Charlie gave him a genuine smile before he let go and turned towards you. “And her sister, Y/N, well…” He laid his red eyes on you with a genuine and almost loving smile and rested his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in an almost unnoticeable but reassuring manner. “She’s an extraordinary being. Introduced me to this very special place so we can give her sister all the support and assistance she needs.”
   You smiled at him, grateful that he followed your request to at least try to make things right.
   Your father growled and narrowed his eyes as he noticed the way Alastor looked at you, the demon’s hand on your shoulder triggering his already strained nerves. He snatched his head in the other direction to face your sister. “Charlie… Why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”
   “Oh, yes, of course!” she called out and walked up to the other residents. “This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” She pulled Vaggie with her who shyly raised her hand in a reserved greeting gesture.
   Your father laughed and his mood immediately switched from annoyance to excitement. “Oh my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!” He pulled Vaggie in a rushed embrace, letting her go as fast as he got close to her. “She’s beautiful!”
   You felt your heart sink in your chest at your father’s opposite reaction to your sister’s partner and a strike of anxiety hit you at the thought of telling him the truth about you and Alastor. It wasn’t only the fact you both were a couple that made you this insecure but the fact that you were even engaged to him.
   Alastor seemed to sense your inner tension and squeezed your shoulder again, now with more pressure and you were grateful for him that he hadn’t removed his hand yet. His closeness was exactly what you needed at this moment. You moved a bit closer to him, hoping that you both didn't appear too close in the other eyes, and breathed in his scent while your thoughts raced in your head. You reviewed the events again and realized that Alastor was right. You had little reason to be so angry (only) at him because your father didn’t really behave either from the first second. Hopefully you could somehow dismiss this conflict as a matter of miscommunication between them.
   You watched your sister introduce your father to the other residents which he seemed to get along with very well – contrary to your finacé who seemed to be the only one he immediately despised.
   You sighed and that’s when your father turned around to face the lobby. With a determined expression he raised his voice so everybody could hear him, “Well, it looks like I could give you some help. With a little bit of alakazam,” he wiggled his fingers, indicating a magic spell, “we could turn this place into something much more appealing! I mean, who needs a busboy now that you got the chef?” He faced Alastor with narrowed eyes and poked his elbow teasingly into Charlie’s side.
   You could feel Alastor’s grip on your shoulder tightening. His smile turned into a strained grin as he obviously thought about saying something. You begged that he kept his mouth shut to not reinforce their conflict… 
   “Well, Charlie…” your father continued before Alastor could even say something, “I’m not almighty but I could give you a lot. Almost anything, if you ask for it. You know, normally, I’d charge a lot for my help but since you’re my daughter and I love you with all my heart, it’s a matter of course I do it for free. Unlike that sketchy prick who probably has some devious intentions in his mind.” He raised his cane and pointed at Alastor.
   Charlie blinked a few times and pressed a nervous and drawled ‘Thank you…’ through her uncomfortable smile. It was obvious that she didn’t approve of your father’s comment but she also didn’t want to increase the drama by intervening.
   Alastor took his hand off your shoulder and leaned on his cane. “At least I’ve been here from the start,” he commented and eyed his claws with a hint of arrogance.
   You breathed in sharply but tried your best to keep your patience up as Alastor continued his monologue. “Let's not forget that I’ve always been faithful to you, Charlie. I support you, care for you and this hotel, and execute whatever you demand”, he exclaimed with such confidence that it was almost awkward listening to him.
   “That’s true,” your sister responded carefully with a grateful smile on her face and your father rolled his eyes. “You know, dad, Alastor does a lot for the hotel and its residents.”
   “No matter his capabilities, because sometimes, Charlie, there’s no substitute for pure angelic power, which – not to forget – also happens to be your blood!”
   “Dad…” Charlie sighed and you growled, the anger cooking inside of you.
   “Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud,” Alastor interfered again, his grin still as prominent as always but his eyes narrowed, darting invisible arrows at Lucifer. He straightens his back to appear even taller in comparison to your father, the arrogance undeniable in his expression. “Seems like the family you chose is better.”
   “You’re such a loser!” your dad spat out.
   “And yet here you are proving me right with every word you speak,” Alastor snatched back.
   “You know nothing, you prick!”
   “Well, unlike you, I don’t abandon my responsibilities!”
   “How do you dare question my commitment?”
   “At least I care for your daughters.”
   “Oh you tacky little piece of–!”
You jumped between them. “Shut the fuck up! Both of you!”
 you yelled as your anger burst through the walls you’ve tried to maintain hold of. Your voice cracked with the strain of suppressed fury and your appearance began to morph into a much more demonic form as pointy horns grew out of your head and your eyes turned a gleaming bloody red. “I’m sick of you bickering like children, you fucking attention whores! Is this how you get your kicks, by not being able to keep your mouths shut over such trivial nonsense? Do you even realize how goddamn irritating it is for the rest of us to be subjected to your constant squabbling? You know each other for ten minutes and already start pushing each other to the limits!”
   “Y/N–,” Alastor tried to interrupt you but you stretched out your arm, pushing him away from you.
   “No, Alastor, back the fuck off!” you scream, looking up in his red eyes and poking his chest angrily with your index finger. “Everytime I tell you to keep your shit together and make a good impression, you make things worse!”
   Your head snatches around and you now stare at your father with the same fury in your eyes. “And you, dad, stop your irresponsible nonsense and don’t taunt him as if he were a punching bag for your own insecurities!” Now you poke at your father’s chest, towering over him with floating hair and fire in your eyes. “Because Alastor’s right! Where have you been all the time? Instead of helping us and supporting Charlie in her project, you didn't even contact us! Especially not me! The last time I heard from you was over a year ago! And now you come here, finally ready to help your daughters, and the moment you arrive you start lashing out at my fiancé to deflect from your own mistakes because you can't stand the fact that he was there for us while you preferred to wallow yourself in your depression!”
   Silence fell over the room when you finished your rant, all eyes locked on you in shock and disbelief over your courage to attack the Radio Demon and the King of Hell himself in such a manner. Your heart raced, pumped your blood through your veins with such a pressure that you felt your whole body pulsating under your tension as relief washed over you.
   “Y–,” your dad tried to say, stuttering and completely overwhelmed by your confrontation and what you just revealed to him. “You–, Your… fiancé?” He ripped his eyes open, his mouth agape in disbelief.
   You breathed in heavily and closed your eyes for a brief moment, realizing what you just revealed, before you opened them again and responded to his question with a much calmer but also weak and tired voice, “Yes, dad. Alastor is my fiancé.”
   “What the fuck?” you could hear Angel exclaim in the background but ignored him.
   “Well…” your father hesitated. He struggled hard to find the right words and put his hand over his mouth, rubbing his skin like a stress ball. “Well, I’m… Wow…”
   Alastor approached you, his steps echoing from the high walls in the silent room and he put his hand on your shoulder. Feeling his touch through your blouse, caused a jolt of electricity to rush through your body. It erased the rest of your anger and your appearance returned to your normal form. Alastor’s presence calmed you down to an almost relaxed state. You felt the need to lean on him but resisted because everything that just happened was already enough – for you, for your father, your fiancé and all the other residents who were forced to witness this nerve-wrecking spectacle.
   You watched your father’s gaze roam over Alastor’s presence, from his head to his toes and from his toes back to his head.
   “I–, I don’t know what to say… Uh… I–... I’m speechless,” he stuttered, unable to look away from the man that stood next to you and encouraged you with a little but meaningful gesture and with who you wanted to spend the rest of eternity with. “I–, excuse me. I need some time to think.”
   Your father indicated to turn around and leave as your sister grabbed him by his arm, holding him back. “Would you like me to give you a tour around the hotel?” she asked him reassuringly in hope he would agree, what he then did.
   “Yes. Please.”
   Your sister gave you an encouraging look before she turned around and guided your father towards the stairs, Vaggie following right after to accompany them.
   Now, you and Alastor were alone with Angel Dust, Sir Pentious, Husk and Niffty. All of them stared at you, speechless. Especially Husk appeared a bit traumatized by your accidental announcement.
   “So… Mister fancy-talk-creepy-voice managed to slide into the royal family?” Angel asked you with interest but you raised your hand, interrupting him.
   “Stop it, Angel.”
   The spider demon pressed his lips together in a thin line and hummed.
   You turned towards Alastor. “Are you mad?” you asked him, afraid that you damaged his trust by revealing your biggest secret you had sworn to keep.
   Alastor leaned his head down sideways to look you in the eyes. His grin was replaced by a genuine smile as his red eyes surveyed your expression. “It’s alright, my dear.”
   He looked over to the other residents, walking a few steps closer to them and cocked his head in an unnatural and unnerving way. His antlers grew in size with pointy ends while his eyes changed to a black color with red, moving radio dials as irises. “If you dare say a single word about mine and Y/N’s relationship outside of the hotel, I will tear you apart and hang your guts as flags on the hotel roof so everybody will be able to see what happens if you dare gossip about the radio demon and his lady.”
*****
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silencesscreams · 10 months
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i can see you
james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)
summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.
a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift
warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation
for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.
you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.
“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.
“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.
“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.
as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.
“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.
“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”
“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.
“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.
“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”
it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?
“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.
“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.
“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.
james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.
-
your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.
the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.
you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.
you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.
and then there was james.
james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.
when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.
sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?
as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.
-
you felt like you could kill him.
after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.
but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.
you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.
"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.
"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.
“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“
“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.
“i told you, they were really good.”
if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turned red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.
you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.
he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.
he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.
he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pajamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.
he shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.
the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.
maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.
“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.
“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.
“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.
“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.
“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”
“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.
“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”
“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”
“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”
“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.
you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.
-
as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.
you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.
on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.
when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.
you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-
giggles.
there were giggles coming from your room.
and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.
you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.
“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”
“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.
you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.
“thank you, have a nice night”
you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.
you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.
“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“
“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.
“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.
“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”
“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?
“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?
“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?
“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“
“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.
you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.
“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.
it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.
“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.
“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.
you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.
his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.
you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?
once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.
maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.
he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.
you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.
you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.
“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.
“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something on your phone.
you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.
you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.
“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“
“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.
“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.
“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.
fuck.
you were going to share the damn blanket.
he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.
was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.
you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.
you could have died right there.
he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.
‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.
you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.
you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.
the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.
you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how he could be so sweet, funny and nice.
after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.
he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.
you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.
you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.
everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want to read it at the moment.
“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.
“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.
“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.
“yeah” remus answered, smiling.
“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sitting next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.
“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”
they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.
once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.
they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.
“can i stay with you for the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.
“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the arm of ouch.
“yeah?” the guy answered.
“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.
“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?
“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.
“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.
“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.
“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.
“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.
“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.
“really? what does he say?”
“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.
“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”
“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.
“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.
“no, just thinking ‘bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.
for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.
he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.
did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?
goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.
it made you feel crazy, it really did.
you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.
the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.
you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-
you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.
‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’
you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.
you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.
“y/n?” he was looking at you now.
fuck.
“yeah?”
“you look really good tonight.”
“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.
“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?
“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.
“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.
he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.
the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.
you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.
kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.
he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.
“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.
he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.
he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.
when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.
“james…” you let out as he bit you again.
“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.
“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.
“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.
“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.
he was big.
you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).
he was on his knees, towering over you.
“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.
“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, especially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.
he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.
he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.
“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.
“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.
“take it off”
“what?” you’re confused.
“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.
“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?
“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.
you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.
“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.
“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.
“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.
“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.
“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.
“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.
“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.
“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.
“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”
“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.
“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.
“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.
“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.
“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.
“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.
he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.
“jaaames” you would whine
“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.
if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.
“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.
“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.
you were in ecstasy.
“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.
“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.
“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.
“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.
“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.
your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.
as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.
“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.
his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.
he made sure he got rid of every single drop.
your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.
“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.
“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.
“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.
“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.
“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.
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othercrossee · 2 years
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Modern day like not paldea, like irl modern au seaweed would def be a stoner one way or another
#z rambles#i think unlike normal seaweed who rather occupied his time exploring the out door and overwork themselves to death#i think modern au weed would be far worse and far more destructive not ro anyone but def to himsslf#hed sacrfice himsslf for anyone and dont care for what. prolly a stoner to take his mind off things. desire for perfection and shit#alfho weed have a strong upbeat personality pretty sure you can sense the deep emptiness that they fill with smoke and work#im sure modern au weed would still.absolutely love the outdoor but addictions fucked man that mf is rolling up a joint in the great outdoor#modern au changing school (which in this case id love it to be college instead) wpuld mean a nee page in weeds life#tbh i think in the game itself before transfering weed was probably destructive but less so#thr wish to chabge and escape an old life youve no longer feel safe in is strange but its strong i can tel u that#happened to me i could have a say or two#i dont want it to be too realistic but tbh its kinda realistic when u think about it#holding back your eventual breakdown is oretty easy and i had to play only for a couple of days in game but 3 irl#so im sire weed wasnt letting that wall fuck them up that fast#plus they had decided to stay free out of their destructuve behavior and i think having a mission helped and the outdoor too#for once theres a very real sense of purpose that tbh in the best word. enrichss thwir life better than anything previously#with this and their own determination i think they push forward easier then they had anticipated#sometimes things are simpler than what we think#ya kmow this post was supposed to be funny like haha shitty stoner#and then boom real recognize real moment rhe hell.......#tbh even if i did write the story i donf rhink id ever talk about weeds fucksd up past much#i still want weed personality to be upbeat kind and preciohs 👍
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txjis · 3 months
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thinking abt fucking ur bfs hot dad after u and him split up....
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cw: Dilf!Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader , age gap , unprotected sex , creampie , size kink , AGED UP MEGUMI (he's not actively in the story, just mentioned) , emotional cheating (reader clocks out emotionally before the breakup) , pining for toji b4 breakup, kitchen sex :3 , pet names (doll & lil’ one) , kinda fluffy ending.
wc: 2k-ish
notes: toji had megumi when he was 20 bc i said so, so the gap will make sense. megumi is 25, toji is 45, reader is somewhere around megumi's age.
this is a fic abt fucking ur exes hot dad, do not read if that makes you uncomfortable.
beta read by my muse @loverboyko yet again.
mwah (*still chews on u*)
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you stepped into the kitchen of the house your boyfriend- or now ex lived. he still lived with his father, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, he was working on getting his own life together before moving out.
your heart was heavy as you reminisced the memories that this house will forever hold, the warm comforting smell of the house even pulling at your heart. you had originally come to pick up the last of your belongings, wanting to finally move on from the messy split.
but as you turned the corner towards the kitchen- his father was there, leaning against the counter. his muscular frame filling the space. toji’s eyes, cold and piercing, watched your every move. he had to know that you and megumi split, but even then. why was he staring at you like that? there was no way he knew that you had recently thought he was eye candy, drooling at him when you thought his back was turned.
you were happy with megumi, it wasn’t anything like that. you hadn’t dreamed of leaving him, towards the beginning of the relationship at least. but as time went on, megumi seemed to care less. he had you, but he wasn’t fighting to keep you. when the feelings for him were slowly dying, fading away to nothing- you looked towards his father in a different light. no more was it just recognizing he was an attractive male, it was something more, yearning.
"doll," toji grunted, his voice deep and gravelly. you huffed lightly, the name he had called you since you met the guy. it was endearing, something innocent. or it was until the way the simple word started to fall on your ears differently. when your view of him changed. now, it offered no sort of comfort, instead making your cheeks flare and tummy flip.
"what are you doing here? came crawling back to my son?" he joked, smirking slightly. toji was, or used to be a pretty shitty guy. but one night his age finally clicked, he wasn't getting any younger. since then he's tried his best to right some of his wrongs.the joke was distasteful to say the least.the pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you felt a mix of emotions; anger at toji's rude remark, sadness from the memories of your empty relationship, and a strange, undeniable attraction to this older man who exuded raw, unleashed power.
"i-i just came to get my things," you stammered, the way his eyes staring directly through you made your voice come out more meek than you’d like. toji pushed himself off the counter and began to slowly circle you, his movements predatory. "my son always had some sort of gift when it comes to fumbling the things best for him," he remarked, his eyes roaming over your body.
all the progress toji had made on bettering himself seemed to melt away after meeting you. megumi bringing a pretty lil’ thing like you back to the house was pure hell. it was wrong, gross even for a man his age to look at you and feel his cock swell in his pants. there had been countless nights he locked himself up in his room, fucking his fist to thoughts of you. guilt flooding his post orgasmic state while he cleaned up was routine.
he saw the way you looked at megumi, your eyes shining like he had hung the stars and moon in the sky for you, and you only. your eyes, that's what made him sick with regret and remorse every time he came imagining it was your cunt squeezing him instead of his hand. but eventually, that look he saw you giving megumi changed. there was little to no love left behind your eyes when looking at him. instead, that glimmer he once saw, was now starting to stare directly back at him. he could practically taste the way you were begging him to touch you every time he caught your eyes on him.
"but you're too good for that doll. you deserve a real man to show you what love is." the blush on your cheeks deepened, feeling your body respond to his words despite telling yourself it was ‘wrong’. toji was so different from megumi, who had been gentle and considerate when pursuing you. there was something dangerously enticing about this older, more experienced man. reaching out, toji trailed a finger along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"you want it, don't you?" he murmured, leaning down. his breath hot on your ear, fanning towards your neck."you want me to show you what it's like to be with a man who knows how to make a pretty lil’ thing like you feel loved?" you could hear the smirk in his voice, eyes too busy drinking in the muscle filled chest in front of you.
"y-yes," you whined, body betraying you as you leaned into his touch. toji smiled, a dangerous, seductive smile that promised wicked things. without warning, he grabbed you, pulling your body roughly against his. his lips crashed against your parted mouth, attempting to kiss you. it was messy, teeth clashing while a mixture of your and his spit gathered at the corner of your mouth. you moaned into his mouth, hands clutching at his shirt.
breaking the kiss, toji nibbled and sucked on your neck, leaving marks all over the sensitive skin. one hand gripped your hip, pulling you tightly against his hardening dick. the other slid up your thigh, under your skirt, and sandwiched itself between his cock and your pussy.
"so wet for me already," he growled, his fingers finding your twitchy cunt with ease. you gasped as he teased your clit, experienced movements circling it slowly before sliding two thick digits deep inside you. your eyes slipped down to where he was touching you, deeper than your own fingers could ever reach no matter the position. toji hissed, the back of his hand rubbing against the tent in his pants while his fingers worked on bullying your insides.
"oh.. oh fuck..," you breathed out, your head falling back as he began to thrust against his own hand. it moved his fingers in and out of your sopping heat, his thumb still rubbing at your swollen clit. toji's other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you up after beginning to see the muscles in your legs twitch. he pumped his fingers faster, his touch rough and urgent.
“cum for me, lil’ one," he demanded. "let me feel that tight pussy squeeze down on my fingers." you couldn't hold back anymore. with a broken cry, your pussy clamped down on his fingers, cumming hard while your juices flowed freely. toji growled in satisfaction, feeling the liquid splash against the front of his pants and drip down his wrist, continuing to help you through your orgasm until shaky legs vibrated against his waist. he almost felt bad, looking down at your fucked out expression from two measly fingers.
he lifted you up with ease onto the counter, spreading your legs. he feasted his eyes on your exposed, glistening pussy. with a satisfied grunt, he lowered his head, licking and sucking at your sensitive folds.you grasped his hair while he went down on you. his skilful tongue dipping into your hole before circling your clit again and again. it was a torturous pattern. you swore he could tell when you were about to cum, moving to lap at a different part of your cunt, or changing the tempo to throw your body off.
"toji, please.. s’too much," you begged, using the grip on his hair to push his face further into your pussy. any concerns for him being able to breathe were long gone out of your mind, instead now filled with his wet slurping and your moans. he chuckled, the vibrations sending pleasurable shivers through your core.
"what a needy lil’ thing," he teased before suddenly plunging two fingers back into your cunt while sucking your abused clit between his lips.a scream was cut off from the air being ripped from your lungs, your back arching off the counter as he ripped another powerful orgasm out of you. toji drank down your sweet cum, lapping continuously as your body convulsed uncontrollably.
finally, he stood. you gulped, suddenly taking it into account how much bigger he was than you. his eyes dark and hungry as he quickly shed his clothes, revealing the amount of muscle he still had. your eyes shamelessly drank his form in, landing to gaze at his painfully hard cock. there was a new wave of nerves that flooded through your entire being just taking in how but he was.
grabbing your ankles he didn’t give you much time to continue worrying. he pulled you to the edge of the counter, positioning himself at your entrance. with one swift thrust, he buried himself balls-deep inside.
a cry was ripped from your lungs, eyes rolling back in your head at the feeling of him stretching you open. it felt like you were being split in half. he gave you a few moments to adjust before toji started to move, his hips snapping forward as he fucked you hard and fast. the sound of skin slapping together filled the kitchen, mixed with your moans and garbled praises and his deep gravely grunts and groans.
"take it baby," he grunted. "take all of me." lost in a haze of pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation of being completely filled by this powerhouse of a man. you moved your hips to the best of your ability- meeting his thrusts halfway.
"that's it, fuck me back," toji encouraged, his eyes burning with desire. "wrap those pretty legs around me." you did as he instructed, locking your ankles together behind his back, pulling him even deeper. toji groaned, his pace becoming wilder, his thrusts hitting your gummy sweet spot over and over.
"fuck, 'm gonna cum," he grit out, his teeth clenched as he rammed into you one final time, spilling his seed deep inside your pussy. it didn’t take you long to follow soon after, crying out his name as another mind-blowing orgasm ripped through your body, your walls gripping his cock tightly. toji leaned forward, his chest heaving as he caught his breath, still embedded inside. heavy breathing filled the kitchen, along with the sound of labored breathing.
slowly, toji pulled out, his cum dripping from your battered pussy. he smirked down at you, eyes filled with satisfaction. "now that," he said, his voice hoarse, "is how it's done." you could only nod, not trusting your voice from how dry your throat felt. he helped you off the counter, holding you up around your waist with one arm while his free hand moved to slide your panties back in place and fix your skirt.
toji pulled his own pants back on, confused when he turned around to see you wobbling- trying to walk towards where megumi had laid your remaining stuff in the kitchen.
“take it easy doll, c’mere. you need to lay down for a second.” the older man chuckled to himself, moving to once again support you with an arm around your waist. you looked up at him confused when he steered you away from the couch and back towards his room.
“toji.. ‘m fine. really-“ you were cut off with a sharp ‘tsk’ sound. the grip on your waist tightening.
“don’t wanna hear it, just lay with me for a bit.” he helped you lay down in his bed, leaving you alone long enough to grab a bottle of water. when he returned, he shut the door behind him. toji made his way back towards you, forcing you to take a few sips from the bottle before putting it down on the nightstand.
with strong arms trapping you against a very broad chest, the smell of him surrounding you- you couldn’t help but eventually doze off into a quiet slumber. toji watched your sleeping figure, his heart pulling at just how peaceful you looked. he could see the bags under your eyes, noting you hadn’t been sleeping well these past few weeks. but now, you were resting. he told himself he’d continue to watch over, and take care of you, if you’d let him.
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ask/requests: OPEN
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heartlogan · 2 months
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all coming back to me
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✮— logan x f!reader (set in x-men days of future past)
✮— summary: logan didn’t realise you would be here in the past. all that follows.
✮— a/n: first time writing for logan / the xmen films, be gentle pls. also wrote this in like 20 mins at 1am so kindness pls. ok goodnight.
✮— warnings: character death, major character death, (mentioned mostly, not the most graphic depictions), logan’s relentless guilt, reader’s insensitive curiosity, muddled timeline maybe idk, mutant reader (unmentioned power) , kind of abrupt ending , lmk if there’s more!
MASTERLIST
✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶
When Logan had realised he was the only viable candidate to do this job, he had felt the immense weight on his shoulders, had known that he had no choice but to succeed. He had been prepared for that part, mostly. But even still, the plan was sudden, and he hadn’t thought most things through. After all, Logan was more of a fight now, think later type of guy.
So waking up in some random woman’s waterbed was unexpected, yes, but even more unexpected was the bone cutting through his skin when he had to face those goons. It had been so long since the adamantium had been melded to his skeleton, that he could almost forget it hadn’t always been that way. If it weren’t for the pain that still haunted his every nightmare, that was.
It was an adjustment, definitely, especially because it had been so long since he hadn’t felt completely indestructible — untouchable. There was no metal safety net, here.
Seeing Xavier’s school falling apart was certainly an adjustment, too.
He had known this school only in its prime, when Charles had already formed the X-Men, had already settled many kids into their new home. Logan couldn’t ever imagine this place being so devoid of life.
“Can I help you?” A young man asked, after a few silent moments of Logan waiting for the door to be answered. He sounded vaguely familiar.
“Uh… yeah, what happened to the school?” Logan asked, eyebrows raised as his eyes trailed over the vines crawling up the building, the dust coating the glass.
The man’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Logan strangely before he decided to speak. “The school’s been shut for years. Are you a parent?”
Logan scoffed. “I sure as hell hope not. Who are you?”
“I’m Hank. Hank McCoy. I look after the house now.”
He’s doing a great job at that, Logan thought to himself, surveying the damaged grounds, before he clocked on to what the man had introduced himself as. He squinted at the small stature of the guy, half hidden by the door he was pressing himself into the gap of.
“You’re Beast? Look at you,” Logan commented idly, “Guess you’re a late bloomer.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hank warned, features hardening instantly at the name he hadn’t heard for a long time. “But I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
The man started closing the door in Logan’s face, not expecting him to shove himself against it, keeping it open. They strained, muscles tensing on both sides, before Logan inevitably won without Hank’s extra strength that accompanied his transformation.
“Where’s the professor?”
“There’s no professor here.” Hank responded, before Logan soon managed to shove the door open, flinging him back.
“Professor!” Logan yelled into the empty house, hearing his voice rebound off of the walls. The echoing made him uncomfortable, and seeing the house that had been destroyed so long ago in his time was odd. It was familiar, and yet so different. Logan wasn’t sure he could ever get used to the empty manor, despite his many complaints about the kids at the school.
The moment Logan began to ascend the stairs of the manor, Hank leapt at him, freshly transformed. Logan was momentarily shocked by the appearance of his blue fur, but he quickly got over it, defending himself from Hank’s admittedly rather weak attack. The Beast managed to stun him, tackling him onto a table in the middle of the foyer, while the blue man hung from the chandelier above.
“Hank?” A voice called out, confused and slightly concerned. “What’s going on here?” He asked, descending the stairs and squinting down at the vaguely familiar man on top of his table.
“Professor?” Logan asked, surprised, sitting up on the table to make sure he was seeing things right.
“He doesn’t like to be called that.” A new voice said, coming from Logan’s left, and he startled, head whipping towards where you were standing. You were leant against the doorway, arms folded across your chest as you watched the situation unfold with unhidden entertainment.
His heart practically stops.
He hadn’t seen you for almost three years. Three very long, very difficult years.
Logan didn’t even want to think about the last time he had seen you. It had been one of the worst days of his life to date, and he’d had a lot of bad days. And yet, here you were, alive. Trying to tamp down your amusement, though it was written clearly on your face, evident in the slight curve of a smile that he had missed.
“You know this guy?” Hank asked Charles, who made his way down the rest of the stairs while Logan only continued to stare at you.
Charles looked at Logan with a vague sense of recognition. “Yeah, he looks slightly familiar.” He commented distantly, already appearing completely checked out of the situation. “Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank.”
The sound of the glass above him clinking together brought Logan to his senses, reminded him that he had a job to do. And no matter how much he had missed you, your presence couldn’t get in the way of that.
“You can walk.” Logan stated, checking back into the conversation with shock still darting down his spine. He watched the Professor carefully, brows furrowed in thought.
“And you’re perceptive.” Charles replied dryly, “Which makes it slightly perplexing that you missed our sign on the way in. This is private property, my friend. I’m going to have to ask him to ask you to leave.” He said, nodding towards Hank who stared between the two men as if watching some sort of tennis match. He looked uncomfortable with the confrontation occurring. “Or her, if you’re more inclined.”
You raised your brows.
✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶
Logan didn’t end up leaving, much to your surprise. It had been a long time since anyone had managed to get Charles to do anything he didn’t want to do. Hell, it had been a long time since anyone had managed to speak to the man, save for you and Hank. He turned everybody away, never heard anyone out, no matter how desperate they sounded.
Instead, Charles seemed to accept the fact that this man was from the future. A future which sounded dire, by the way.
And if his glance towards you when he had spoken about watching good people, friends, die, told you anything, it was that you didn’t make it very far in the future. Which didn’t faze you all too much. It didn’t sound like much of a future for those who lived, anyway. But that knowledge had taught you something about this Logan. He had cared for you, some years from now.
It was as clear as day. He looked at you like he had been missing you, like he was greeting you at the airport after a long trip. He seemed to think he was being discreet about it, always glancing away when you turned to him, but you were observant.
You sidled up next to him while Hank went on the hunt for the phone book, and Charles wandered off to regret his decision.
“So, how’d I die?” You asked, feeling bad but also slightly amused when Logan practically choked on air.
“What? How did you—”
“Oh, please. It’s all over your face. I may not know you, but I can see that much.” You responded, cutting him off and watching the cogs turn in his head.
You had always had a strange way of reading him better than anyone else. Not that this version of you knew that, but Logan did. It made his chest ache all the more, feeling like you were so close to being in his grasp, and yet so far away from him. He had to remind himself that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t exactly know this version of you.
You seemed… not happier, exactly, but something was different. Perhaps you had suffered less at this point in your life. He had met you in one of the most difficult times you had ever been through, and it was strange to see you without the baggage that had followed you from that.
“I’m that transparent, huh?” He replied, going quiet soon after. He didn’t want to talk about this with you. With anyone. He didn’t want to relive that moment any more than he already did. He saw it every time he closed his eyes, every time the Sentinels had approached in the future.
“You are.” You paused. “So? What happened?”
“You don’t want to know about this, kid.” Logan stated, pointedly not looking at you. You were so young now, and he missed the lines on your face. This wasn’t the you that he knew or loved. He didn’t know this version of you. And you certainly didn’t know him.
Logan had the fate of the world resting on his shoulders, the fate of every mutant and human who had the decency to be kind towards them. Your fate. The fate of everyone else he had lost. He couldn’t get caught up in this, in seeing you here, as much as he wanted to soak in the sound of your voice, the colour of your eyes, the glow of your skin.
“Why not? We’re going to save the world anyway. It can’t hurt.” You said innocently, regretting the latter part of your statement the moment you realised how it came across, how Logan’s face creased.
He wanted to appreciate your optimism, mostly because he knew how much of it you had lost by the time you died, but you couldn’t understand. It did hurt. Logan had watched you die in front of his very eyes, his adamantium and courage powerless to stop it. He had been dragged back to the jet, forced to leave your body there to rot, or to be taken and experimented on. He didn’t know which was worse.
Even now, he could feel the pressure on his chest from Storm pushing against him, the pain of Magneto pulling at his skeleton, forcing him to leave you behind.
He swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat, eyes flickered across the room, never quite landing on you. It hurt him every day. He could feel the weight of your loss even now, knowing that if he failed to do this, you were lost. This version of you, the one who had so much suffering to come, would die at the hands of a Sentinel, and he would be powerless to stop it.
“Sorry,” You said, when the silence stretched on, Logan seemingly getting lost in his own thoughts. You could see the pain written across his face, could see him getting distant, reliving whatever had happened in the future. “That was insensitive. I was curious, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here to save us all. And I’m here to help this time.”
He finally looked at you, and you could see the exhaustion on his face. Perhaps putting more pressure on him wasn’t the best idea.
“Okay, I’m messing this up,” You admittedly, fidgeting nervously now, eyes flickering between him and the door as if expecting Charles or Hank to walk in on you embarrassing yourself. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no,” Logan paused, apparently trying to find his words. “You don’t need t’be sorry. None of this is your fault.”
You looked at him, seeing him more clearly then. You didn’t know his past, and you certainly didn’t know the future, but this man cared about you. That much was obvious. “It’s not yours either, you know.” You said, and the slight grimace he made didn’t escape you. He clearly didn’t agree. “However we know each other in the future, it can’t change the fact that I am an adult. I would never expect you to take responsibility for me dying. Or want you to! I take care of myself.”
He blinked at you. “We were meant to take care of each other.”
You faltered slightly at that, struggling to imagine yourself relying on someone that much, but then you understood.
“Isn’t that what you’re doing now? You’re here, fifty years into the past, trying to make things right. The war wasn’t your fault, Logan.”
Despite knowing that was true, it still didn’t quite dislodge the guilt that pulsed in his chest. He felt more vulnerable here, without his adamantium. With your prying eyes. Even now, it appeared that you saw him in a way nobody else ever could.
“You know what? This might be totally inappropriate, but…” You trailed off, and he had just opened his mouth to question you when suddenly you were wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing him close in a way that finally let him breathe again.
His hands hung idly by his sides for a few moments, before finally wrapping around you, holding you tight. He seemed as though he may never let you go, but you could understand that. Logan was in pain, and it seemed that despite your slight uncertainty, this had been a good path to go down. Taking care of one another, or something like that, right?
A heavy sigh left his chest, and you squeezed him tighter, letting out a short breath into his neck. You only pulled away when you heard Hank’s footsteps creaking on the aged floorboards, heading your way. Logan let you go, with much reluctance, but you lingered. Your arm brushed against his jacket.
If Hank noticed anything, he didn’t say a word, simply holding up the phone book victoriously. You glanced at Logan, watching the creases slowly come back to his face as he was reminded of his burden once more. You leaned against him the slightest bit, and pretended not to notice him glance at you.
This would all work out, you were certain of it. And if it didn’t, well, at the very least there was something to look forward to in that bleak future. Logan seemed worth the pain.
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pricefieldizcanon · 10 months
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Rachel calls Chloe "cute" in the hospital 🥺❤️
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They are BOTH so cute! ❤️
GIFs made by me.
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mv1simp · 2 months
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max taking advantage of innocent!best friend!reader … like a dynamic where he spoils her a lot and has made him look her think that all his strange behaviors/touches are normal
I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA FOR AGES THANK U FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT 🙏🙏🙏
Friends ♥️
Max Verstappen x Childhood Best Friend!Reader
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And what the hell were we, tell me we weren’t just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no
Max has been your closest friend since childhood, promising to always look after you. Sure, everyone gossips that you two are secretly dating, that it’s not normal for friends to be so close, so touchy - but Max blows it all off. So when you ask him for help when you want to get a boyfriend for the first time, it shouldn’t be a problem because Max doesn’t like you like that…right?
Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! Reader, manipulative dark best friend! Max, dubcon, size kink, dom/sub, somnophilia, recording, this is DARK 🥸 3.3k WC
You and Max had grown up close together, your families being good friends as your fathers had raced together back in the day. He had been shy and awkward when you met, age 5 and 6, but as soon as he had stepped in front of you in defence when you had been bullied in school the next day, you vowed to always be loyal to him. Your families approved the friendship, laughing and taking pictures when you two would play house - Max always being the husband doll to your wife doll, of course. You two did everything together - school, holidays, racing where you always came to support him bearing snacks and words of encouragement. So when he asked you at age 18 to move with him to Monaco you didn’t even hesitate to say yes - not imagining a life without your Maxie by your side.
Your move raised a few eyebrows from your family, who had been suprised that you hadn’t outgrown what they had thought was an innocent childhood crush. Your older sister had been especially worried at the thought of you alone in a new city with only Max there to support you. She noticed, sometimes, when he thought no one was watching - how his eyes would be watching you, in a way eerily similar to how a wolf watched a lamb he was about to devour whole. Althought it had taken a lot of pleading from your end to win her over, it had been easy enough to convince your parents to let you go, explaining you were enrolling in Monaco University - being bankrolled by Max’s new generous F1 salary - and yes, promised that you were staying in your own separate apartment. And that had been the plan, but when you stood in the entrance to Max’s penthouse a few weeks later, dripping head to toe with sprinkler water because somehow your up to code apartment had a fire when you had been out, he had insisted you stay at his until you found a new place - just for a short while. A short while then turned into a long while which then turned into the lockdown and at the end of it all Max had said you just couldn’t leave, he was too used to having you there that coming home to an empty apartment would be too hard. And although you had worried, saying that as you both got older it might be strange that you now lived together and people would talk, Max shot down all your concerns, reassuring you with a warm hug and sweet kiss to your forehead that the only opinion that mattered was yours, and as long as you’re happy Schat, I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. You had blushed from the affection and that was the end of that discussion.
You’d always been quite sheltered, naive even - and going to a strict private school meant you hadn’t had any romantic or sexual experience whatsoever. Growing up, it was clear to the adults around you that you had always held a crush on Max, and althought the older boy would always look out for you, he didn’t reciprocate to the same way - at least that’s what they thought. They hadn’t noticed that when you two had been gently separated one night when it had been deemed you were too old to sleep in the same bed anymore, Max had crept back and grabbed your hand as he lay next to you, mumbling he couldn’t sleep without you, liefje. No one noticed that this habit continued well into your teens, when Max would climb in through your bedroom window - initially making you freak out but soon reassured by Max’s words that your parents were just too strict, you were just two best friends wanting to spend time together.
And the first time you woke up one morning to feel something thick and hard pressing into you from the back, scaring you a bit, Max had gently rubbed your shoulder from the back while telling you it was okay, it’s just something that happens sometimes when a guy sleeps next to a pretty girl, you had blushed and accepted the compliment. And no one knew that behind closed doors your chaste goodbye kisses to Max’s cheek began turning into loving kisses on the lips when he had tilted your head up, saying he was going to miss you so much when he went on his first F1 race and he deserves a goodbye kiss for good luck from you, didn’t he?
And of course you would always give Max whatever he asked for since he was your best friend, your protector, the person you loved the most in the world. He’d pay for you, drive you everywhere, cheer you up when you were down, make you laugh, patiently take you shopping and rate every outfit you tried on, fight anyone who dared to give you a hard time - and the rest of the paddock had definitely noticed the lingering attentions of the Redbull driver to his childhood friend. Daniel and Lando constantly gave him shit for it, saying he needed to grow a pair and just confess instead of making puppy eyes at his “best friend”. Max always just rolled his eyes at their gossiping ways.
But it was hard to deny their claims when Max would pull you in to sit on his lap at a games night making everyone smirk at you, or when you would emerge from his hotel room the next morning since you two still shared a bed everytime you went away - it’s just like a sleepover when we were little, scatje, nothing wrong with it - or when at fancy award ceremonies or galas Max would be photographed in his tux, a vogue model at his side as his latest girlfriend - and you on his other side, wearing a luxury dress he’d brought for you. The paparazzi would eat up the dirty looks Max’s flings would always be shooting you, knowing they always came second to his best friend.
The thing was, even when sometimes doubt would flicker in your mind that things were too intimate, too romantic, between you and Maxie - you couldn’t bring yourself to want to draw back. You’d always secretly had such a crush on the older boy growing up, but since he had never directly reciprocated and was now a big world champion with women around every corner in Monaco after him, you’d learnt to accept your feelings were unrequited and you needed to stop reading so much into Max’s pure intentions to look after you. After all, that’s what best friends did, right?
And oh, did Max look after you. It seemed every week he’d level up more and more. Matching jewellery and heels to go with the designer dresses, and lately you had come home to find matching lingerie in Max’s favourite colour, dark blue. You had blushed furiously, feeling an indescribable icky pit in your stomach and remembering your sister’s warnings - Max goes too far, he pushes the boundaries of a normal friendship - but Max put all your worries to ease over the homecooked dinner you made him that night, explaining that the latest dress just happened to come with matching accessories and he wanted to make sure that you felt beautiful in all the layers you wore and it was normal to give your best friends gift, no? But he could return it if you’d prefer… prompting you to hastily accept his intimate gift, reassuring him that it was so thoughtful and you were so grateful. He’d looked so pleased with your response that when he ordered more and more sets, each one getting just a touch more lacier and risqué, you just thanked him for each one. And when he asked you how you found your gift, could he have a look at it, please schatje, I always help you pick your prettiest outfits right? You had nodded in agreement, blushing but shyly pulling his hoodie off your torso to expose the outrageously expensive La Perla black lace set you wore, accentuating your plump ass and pushing your tits up for him to hungrily look at. Max’s gaze had lingered there for a long time, his gaze turning dark and you had felt that same uncomfortable pit begin to settle in your stomach again when he saw the look on your face and patted your soft, chubby waist in reassurance, saying don’t be embarrased, schat, we always grew up seeing each other like this, right? Remember that photo of us swimming in that pool in Ibiza? Completely naked? Besides, you’ve seen me shirtless so many times, this is the same as that. That was true, you accepted dreamily, and not thinking anything of it when Max started asking you to send photos of you modelling the cute sets he’d get delivered to you when he was away. You happily snapped away mirror selfies, in all the different angles he wanted to see you from, even strange ones you weren’t quite sure about like bend over and stick your hips right up in the air, hmm schat?
He’d kiss you goodbye now all the time, saying you were his cute little good luck charm, with the expectation that you’d open your lips wide for him, letting him shove his tongue into your mouth and explore it to his hearts content. Gotta have a better kiss to get better luck. It felt so nice and made you feel all tingly between your legs so you would never turn it down. And since Max was away more and more with his racing schedule, often he would come home and fall asleep straight in your bed, saying he had missed being away from you so much. You had thought it was so sweet, no one else but you got to see Maxie like that, you were the only one he depended on. So you easily wrapped yourself up in his embrace, just like when you two had been little - except this time Max would say you’re so tense, schat, let me help you relax a bit, my physio knows this great muscle relaxation technique-
And it felt soo nice when he rubbed your sensitive little body up and down, you had no complaints, not even when some nights he would travel much, much lower down your plush little tummy than he had before. You just obediently parted your legs for him when he commanded in his deep voice, running his thick finger up your slit through your wet lace panties. And sometimes you’d wake up to feel that very familiar hardness of his behind you, soo warm now as he took himself out of his sweatpants and let his cock rest against you. Feels all tense, sweetheart, cause you kept rubbing against it last night and I didn’t get any sleep he would sigh.
You’d feel terrible, apologising profusely for interrupting his precious sleep when he trained so much, asking how you could make it up to him when Max had said just gonna let it relax out onto you, yeah? Don’t worry, you can even go back to bed, baby. You’d nodded sleepily, so grateful that Maxie was so sweet he always put your sleep first, even when his had been deprived.
He’d waited before you were comfortably nuzzled back against him, breaths turning deeper as sleep overtook you before slowly lifting your damp panties out of the way, and sliding his leaking tip just along the entrance to your innocent hole, making you moan, half asleep cause it felt soo good, and you felt so guilty that you felt so much pleasure while Max had just become frustrated overnight. With your eyes screwed shut you’d never notice the dark lustful look in his eyes, the evil smirk on his face as he had his way with you, letting him getting away with practically murder if it was for the sake of your friendship. You let him continue gliding his cock along your puffy folds, his tip repeatedly stimulating your sensitive clit, his large hands coming up to fondle at your boobs that has somehow slipped out of your camisole and gently flick your nipples before he tensed, holding you tightly against him as his breaths quickened. You has felt something warm and wet leaking out from the sides of your panties. You looked down, dazed, but Max shushed you back asleep, lulling you into his arms again. And when you woke up next you always had a clean pair of fresh panties on, camisole tucked back down over your thick hips, Max no where in sight.
As you grew up, your sexual curiosity eventually began to peak. When all of your friends in uni had gotten boyfriends and giggled to you about how good sex felt, you had gotten curious too. of course, you would never bring it up with Max even though you two talked about everything - because you should only be talking about sex with your future boyfriend, right? But one day when you had come home early from class you had heard lewd noises coming from Max’s bedroom. So lewd that you had been unable to stop yourself from peeking through a slight gap. The sight of Max thrusting himself into his latest girlfriend, her face pushed down into the mattress as he drilled into her from the back made you blush furiously. You’d stood there for a little while, your panties getting damp at the sight of sweat dripping down Max’s abs before you had caught yourself and scurried away, so guilty about violating Max’s privacy like that. You were such a creep, what was wrong with you?!
But that afternoon had also made you realize Maxie had so much more experience than you as you hadn’t been sure what a lot of the movement and positions you had seen that day were. And Max had said you could always ask him for help with anything, right? You couldn’t quite build up the courage to ask him - until your classmate asked you out one day, making you giddy with excitement but come crushing down when he had later found out on the date that you were a virgin, and had said maybe it was best for you to be with someone who was more on your level, that he didn’t feel comfortable being with someone so inexperienced for a casual fling. You’d come home sobbing, running straight into Max’s arms in your cute little dress and strappy heels, crying Maxie, he was so mean, you’d never believe what he said-
Max had been furious when you told him the story. He was so, so angry - not only at your classmate, but at you, for going on this date and not telling him, the way you would always tell Max about everything you did in your day. How could you be so careless, so slutty to go out with a guy like that? Max demanded, making your eyes widen and cry harder. It’s those new girlfriends of yours, aren’t they, they’re such fucking whores.
You’d never seen him so angry before, not even when he had a DNF at a race weekend. He’d only seems to calm down when you had looked up at him with innocent eyes, pleading Maxie, please, will you teach me how to be a good girlfriend, I don’t want to be so inexperienced anymore.
He’d sighed and run his hands through your hair, wiping away the tears that had made mascara drip down your cheeks. Of course, schat. I’ll show you exactly how to be a good little girlfriend. But promise me that you won’t talk to another guy without my permission first, okay? I have to protect you and make sure that you’re trained enough to have a boyfriend.
It was so, so sweet of Max to take time out of his busy schedule to help your embarrassing problem, you thought dreamily. You never noticed that your classmate never turned up to class again, but did have to go to hospital that week for a new black eye and bruised ribs.
Meanwhile, Max first started your “lessons” by showing you how to pump him from soft to a raging erection, guiding your hands into his sweatpants and moving your hands up and down, after you spit cutely into your palms to ease the glide. You didn’t notice the smirk on his face as he watched your struggle to jack off his entire sizeable length with your tiny palms.
Then he’d shown you how to use your mouth to make him feel good. You’d sat on your ass for hours in between his legs as he absentmindedly played his game, drawing kitten licks up his shaft before he’d taken over and told you to relax that tight throat of yours, baby, as he shoved his cock inside your mouth. He’d jackhammered away happily without any regard for the tears that emerged from your eyes. You had coughed, spluttered, throat raw for days as Max made you practise on the daily, tutting at you in mock disappointment when your gag reflux got in the way and you stopped halfway down his length. He’d pulled you up to sit on his lap, his hard cock wedged in between your plush thighs, as he put a dirty video onto the TV - petite ebony deepthroats massive white cock like a pro.
You had blushed and stuttered at the obscene video, looking away at one point but Max had forced your head back to look at the scene, saying don’t miss this bit, schat, look how she doesn’t forget about his balls, yeah?
You’d watched video after dirty video until you had perfected your blowjob technique exactly to Max’s likings. You look up obediently at him as he points his phone at you, flash on and all, recording your performance for reference, of course scatje, we need to track your progress, right? as you sloppily took his hard cock into your eager mouth, all the way to the base, gag reflux well and truly trained out of you from his daily discipline.
You’d woken up the next morning to find Max’s blonde curls between your legs, his tongue sweetly licking at your most innocent parts and you had squealed in shock, Maxie what are you doing ohmygod- but he quickly thrust his fingers into your drooling mouth to shut you up, just progressing to the next level, sweetheart, you need to learn to cum whenever I ask you too.
You’d squeaked and whined as his tongue didn’t stop flicking your clit, his fingers now joining in abusing your poor little virgin cunny until you begged him to pull away, Maxie please I feel funny, I think I’m going to pee- Ahhh!!! You’d ended up squirting all over his fingers and tongue, immediately passing out from exhaustion at the sheer intensity and missing the dark, pleased grin on Max’s face as he licked up your juices from his fingers. God, it was almost too easy to brainwash you into his perfect little pet. Soon he’d having you asking him to claim your virginity, he just knew it. And he would not hesitate, taking what had always belonged him anyways. He’d have made you his housewife a long time ago if your goddamn sister hadn’t kept cockblocking him.
Never mind that. Even she wouldn’t be able to withhold her blessing when you’d turn up at the next family gathering, glowing and expecting his child, he thought darkly. Smirking to himself, Max unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock. In fact, why wait to feed you some bullshit excuse about how no baby, virgins can’t get pregnant the first time or no, I can’t use a condom, schat, it’s bad for you to have something unnatural inside you.
He might as well start now and give you a thick creampie as your present to wake up to later ♥️ After all, you’d take it like the good girl you always were for him.
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A/N: Chile anywaysssss don’t mind me and my depraved thoughts. Gotta go drink some holy water fr. Lmk what you guys thought! Feel free to request more x
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sardonic-the-writer · 8 months
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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬
↳ warnings: none
↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists
↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem
• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it
• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day
• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks
• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it
• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it
• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates
• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees
• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’
• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion
• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”
• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded
• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it
• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “
• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him
• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in
• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”
• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter
• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”
• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room
• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all
• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move
• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron
• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments
• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!
• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar
• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day
• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same
• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words
• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed
• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule
• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal
• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket
• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”
• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face
• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door
• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe
• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them
• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone
• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 
• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily
• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”
• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”
• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that
• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something
• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond
• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter
• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged
• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately
• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head
• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him
• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so
• An eye twitch
• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 
• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all
• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms
• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“
• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird
• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."
• "Agreed."
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So, I have no idea if anyone has already figured this out but I have just spent an unreasonable amount of time translating this part of the Soul Contract...just because
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and like...
You are now twenty-one grams lighter
THIS CONTRACT IS LEGAL AND BINDING. WE RESERVE THE RIGHT TO USE YOUR LIKENESS, FACE, VOICE AND SMELL TOWN PLUCK IN WHATEVER NEFARIOUS MANNER IS DEEMED NECESSARY.
SANS SOUL, YOUR SOULMATE WILL NOT RECOGNIZE YOU AND WILL WALK RIGHT PAST YOU ON A COLD AUTUMN DAY. NEVER MAKING EYE CONTACT. NOT EVEN PROCESSING THAT YOU HAVE EYES AT ALL. NO AMOUNT OF INTERACTION WILL MOVE THEM TO A PLACE WHERE THEY CAN REMEMBER, IN FEELING, THE THOUSANDS OF LIFETIMES YOU HAVE ALREADY SPENT TOGETHER. EACH TIME CHOOSING THOUSANDS FORM WOULD KEEP YOU CLOSEST LIKE OTTERS HOLDING HANDS IN A TUMULTUOUS RIVER. YOU WERE BIRDS. YOU WERE TREES WITH ROOTS ENTANGLED, DRINKING IN THE SUNLIGHT TOGETHER.
WHEREVER WE GO NEXT, WHATEVER YOU CHOOSE, I WILL ALWAYS BE RIGHT THERE WITH YOU…THATS DONE, BUDDY. CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE CHOSEN BILL INSTEAD!
MCDONALDS RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PUT A GIANT YELLOW M ON YOUR TORSO AND FOREHEAD AND SEND YOU WALKING THROUGH A CROWDED TIMES SQUARE WHILE YOU SCREAM "THE FRIES! THE FRIES! THEY DON´T DEGRADE IN NATURE!!! IT´S AN IMMORTAL FOOD!!! THEY WILL BE IN THE LANDFILLS LONG PAST OUR DEATHS!" GOOD GOD! THE THINGS S I´VE SEEN!
ME? WHO AM I? OH I´M BILL´S PREVIOUS LAWYER! HE PUT MY SOUL INTO A QUILL PEN SO I CAN WRITE HIM LEGAL DOCUMENTS UNTIL THE SUN SNUFFS OUT LIKE A CANDLE IN THIS SICK UNIVERSE! I USED TO BE SO HOT! I WAS SO FINE! NOW I´M FINE PRINT!
SPEAKING OF WHICH, BILL RESERVES THE RIGHT TO PUT YOUR SOUL INTO AN INANIMATE OBJECT, A STRANGE CREATURE, A CONCEPT, A SENTENCE, A TASTEFUL BUT RUSTIC MASON JAR WITH WILDFLOWERS IN IT.
IF AT ANY POINT YOU WANT TO HAVE VISITATION RIGHTS WITH YOUR SOUL, YOU WILL BE SWIFTLY DENIED. UNLESS YOU HAD A COOL DAY PLANNED FOR THE BOTH OF YOU, THEN BILL MIGHT WANT TO COME ALONG.
BY SIGNING THIS DOCUMENT YOU FORFEIT ANY RIGHT TO EATING SOUL FOOD. IT WILL TURN TO ASH IN YOUR MOUTH, A FITTING PUNISHMENT FOR A FOOL WHO SQUANDERED THE ONLY TRUE GIFT LIFE OWES YOU.
BILL RESERVES THE RIGHT TO DRESS YOUR SOUL HOWEVER HE DEEMS NECESSARY, ESPECIALLY IF YOUR SOUL WAS A NERD BEFORE ACQUISTION. SOULMAKOVERRR!
YOUR SOUL MAY BECOME FRACTURED AND PLACED INTO DIFFERENT OBJECTS. THIS HAS NO PURPOSE AND WILL NOT RESURRECT YOU IF YOU DIE.
SIGNEE HAS FORFEITED ALL RIGHTS TO ANY AFTERLIFE. INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO: HEAVEN, HELL, PURGATORY, BIG CORNER, FLOW STATE, THE DREAM HOUSE, THE REINCARNATION PROCESSING CENTER, AXOLOTL´S TANK AND CONSEQUENCES HOLE.
SIGNEE CAN NO LONGER BOARD THE SOUL TRAIN AND IS ADVISED TO DISCARD ALL BELLBOTTOMS.
SIGNEE CAN NO LONGER HAVE A PUPPY AS A BEST FRIEND, THEY CAN SENSE WHAT IS GONE. BATS ARE INDIFFERENT.
SIGNEE MAY EXPERIENCE OCCASIONAL DEMON POSSESSIONS FROM HORCULUS THE RED, PLABOS THE MERCILESS, MORBUS SON OF MORTEM, PLAGA THE OOAING AND OTHER SUCH COMMON DEMONS ROAMING EARTH SEARCHING FOR WEAKENED, EMPTY VESSELS!
TIPS FOR RIPPING YOUR SOUL OUT AT HOME: WATCHING YOUTUBE COMMENTARY CHANNELS, ATTENDING AN EXTENDED FAMILY EVENT WITH AN OPEN BAR, USING GENERATIVE AI AND ASSERTING THAT YOU ARE CREATIVE, TURNING A BLIND EYE TO HUMAN SUFFERING, AMASSING MORE WEALTH THAN NEEDED, PURCHASING A BLUE CHECKMARK...
I had fun with this and yeah...rip to anyone who signed (me included, I would have loved to visit axolotl´s tank...)
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sim0nril3y · 8 months
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.
Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.
It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.
There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.
So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.
The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.
Bloody hell. He was in deep here.
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That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.
These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.
“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.
Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?” Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”
This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.
Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”
You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”
You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.
“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."
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Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024
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mrrharper · 3 months
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Player Of The Month
You can support me at ko-fi.com/mrrharper
It did not take long.
Jake got a notification saying he'd been chosen as the Player of the Month from the server he's been playing on for months now. He was very excited about this as he's never got any in-game title like that before.
He clicked on the notification and scrolled through all the buzzwords to see what rewards he would be getting. Weirdly, there was no mention of any items, upgrades or other perks. Instead there was a button. "Brand new personalized experience".
Jack eagerly clicked the button, the only option avaliable to him. At first nothing happened and he just assumed the game was loading some new assests which would probably take some time.
Suddenly he felt some buzzing in his head, followed by a sharp pain and a feeling as if his headset was tightening around his head. He was paralyzed by this for a moment, his mind completely losing track of what was happening with his body as it was experiencing sudden sensory overload.
And then he was back in the game, but something was different. He was transported to Iron Gym, a locaton on the opposite side of the map from he was just a minute ago. He looked down and saw that his avatar had changed completely. He tried to access his character menu to see what had happened but he couldn't, so he walked up to a mirror.
In in he saw someone completely different. A young dude, clearly muscular, wearing a backwards cap and a pair of tight compression shorts. He looked like a gym bro! Not only that, he looked pretty similiar to the NPCs that populated this area of the game world, which Jake found very strange. Something went wrong here.
Wait, where was his headset? Jake put his hands on his face, but couldn't find the bulky gear he had to wear to play. What was going on?
A player came up to Jake and chose the option to initiate the conversation.
Jake #27AD0019 turned around to face Player#A97F4. His eyes flashed red, showing he was now in interaction mode.
"ey dude, ya got any issue with me bruh?" he asked, an arrogant streak in his voice. He then waited for the player to choose a response form the dialog tree, entering one of his idling animations, moving slightly from left to right and flexing his bare chest.
"Damn, that's a new one, didn't see this character before here" the player muttered to himself, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of a new NPC. He then chose a response.
"No, I just noticed you're a regular here and you seem to be doing pretty good, so I wanted to say hi."
#27AD0019's changed his attitude from annoyed and arrogant to proud and cocky. A new animation was triggered by the player's response, making him flash his teeth in a cocky smile, then flex his arms in a double biceps pose.
"hell yeah bruh, am the top dawg here dude"
The player focused on the NPC's muscular arms, while the character kept them in a flexed position up in the air. Player#A97F4 was starting to enjoy the conversation and knew exactly what dialog option he would choose.
"I see, you clearly work out every day. Your form is very impressive."
This prompted another few animations, in which #27AD0019 flexed his arms, chest and legs, showing off his muscles to the player.
"fuck yeah bro! i lift, like, all day dude, gotta work for guns like this bro huhuhuhuhuhuh" He let out a low, dumb laugh. The player grinned as he saw one of the potential responses he had avaliable.
"So not much happening in your life except the gym, right?"
A few calculations happened int he background that determined whether the NPC would respond positively or with anger. The result then took into account the character's intelligence statistic - 3/10. This gave the player the exact result he was looking for.
"huhuhuh yeah dude, am a real gym bro dude, ain't nothin' more important that liftin' bro. head empty, just gains huhuhuhuhuh" The answer triggered another loop of flexing animations.
#27AD0019 was going to be a very popular NPC.
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hoseoksluna · 4 months
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ICHOR | jjk
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pairing: idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader
genre: fluff
word count: 2.4k
summary: after a bad day at work, you lose a sense of yourself and jungkook leads you right back to her.
warnings: crying, capitalism, death metaphors, sadness, jungkook is sweaty and is wearing that nike shirt he wore in his working out live, has fluffy hair!
note: hiii, bubbas, so this is fluff fic is partly for @frmisnow bc she inspired me to write this & i also want to make her feel better with this sacchariny-sweet jungkook, partly for me bc i genuinely wrote in detail about what i went through at work these past two days. and, also, for all you guys because i made you go through reading about such evil jungkook in my last berries fic. i hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. here's to a bit of happiness in our lives *cheers with an imaginary glass of imaginary pink, glittery, strong, fairy alcohol*. <3
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You used to be a goddess, the ichor in your veins carried the color of roses, glinted with flecks of gold that would radiate your skin from beneath, make any heads turn, especially the one you loved the most. Customers at work smiled upon seeing your cordial aura, close-knit even though they were mere strangers, preferred to go to you amidst the flock of your other colleagues around. They would become radiated just the same, joy so terribly evident on their faces as their smile would grow. They would frown upon seeing the state of you at this current moment—curled up on your bed while the heat of the beginning of the summer clings to your near bareness, coming through your wide opened windows, the white, translucent curtains billowing up and down in their strange, but magnolious dance. 
You’re not Aphrodite. You’re not Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy and mirth, either. 
You’re the slain fawn at their feet—for their very own feast and for the feast of those aforementioned customers, who stand behind the dryly bloodied cause of your death. 
Work was hell, to say the least. 
You always thought death was a kind embrace, not a tight clasp of doom around the nape of your neck, your mental strain and disquietude the half moon marks that ever so slowly deepen. You mimic the movement on the hem of the linen shirt you wore for the day, one that you were too drowsy to take off when you arrived at home, having only a slight wisp of an energy to rid yourself of the uncomfortable tightness of your jeans and crawl onto your bed, knees to chest, on your side. You bunch up the fabric in your fist, wrinkling it, but you hardly vanquish the cuts that your anxiety slashes on your skin. You thought it would alleviate you of your tenseness, but as it seems—it only worsened it. 
You don’t even have tears to shed. Wept them all out in your manager’s office while she harshly, yet calmly reprimanded you for your mistake and the gravity of the fact that you almost lost your precious job, that you can’t imagine living without, washed over you and pained you like a splash of salty water in your eyes. Wept them all out when you breathed in the crooked, paralyzed expression of disappointment in her face—and that’s the sole thing that emptied out your system of that ichor, wiped out your reputation of being a good, reliable employee that everybody liked. 
Now the next unfolding of your days spent at work shall be filled with silent judgements and secretive gossip, the big talk of the entire building—something that will hang by the strands of your hair for every head to turn to until something else comes along. Another topic, another fuck-up. That’s the face of modern capitalism, the absurdity of day-to-day normalcy its features, and you’re so sick, so repulsed to be staring at it every single day of your life that you yearn to not be anymore. 
Death has flattened over you, but has not finished its job. It was Dante who described the process of hell in his Divine Comedy and you hate him for the rotten pulchritude of his mind because you find yourself to be standing in the middle of inferno with no guide—no Virgil, no Beatrice—to hold your hand and lead you through this scalding maze. You’re all alone, your mistake carving the branches of the trees burning down in your hell over your burdened, heavy heart that has been longing for the company of another ever since you walked out of your manager’s office. 
Your face screws as another agonized emotion rises in you. You can’t stand your aloneness, can’t stand your burden—and before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have already tapped on your boyfriend’s name in your history of calls. The screen of your phone is cool against the fever of your cheek and you rub your face harder against your duvet, staining the strawberry pattern with the particular tinge of your makeup, which must have been the color of your ichor. 
You wince, the rings prolonging in your ear, your impatience running thin. 
Then, your heart drops once you hear the broken whisper of your Beatrice, faintly, barely, which causes your heart to spread its longing. Damn iPhones and their bad service. 
“Jungkook?” you call out, nonsense coming through the other end—and you repeat his name until his voice smooths out, relief sinking in like a stone in a pond. 
It turns out you were exchanging each other’s names and the intimacy of it curls the smallest of smiles on your mouth. You miss him; you need him. 
“When are you coming home?” you ask, wishing to descend into the emitting waves of the call, slide through them until you spring to wherever he is, no matter how tired you are—you’re willing to cross the distance. 
You hear him turn on his blinker and your heart almost does it for you. 
“I’m driving home right now. I’ll be there in ten,” he says and your relief expands in your chest, taking a small weight off of your heart. You place your palm against it. 
“Okay.” 
A beat of silence. 
“Why do you sound so sad?” 
Your mouth curls downwards. “Something happened at work.” 
An inhale of breath. “Screw that, baby. I’ll be there in five, okay?” 
A whimper. “Okay, drive safe.” 
And your Beatrice didn’t lie to you. Soon, you hear the banging of the front door closing, the tossing of his keys and the prodding open of your shared bedroom door. The hastened footsteps, hefty on the floating floor, the squeak of the mattress as his knee dips on it and the glide of his hand up your thigh. All before you use the last of your strength to focus your swimming vision on him. 
Hearing him alone helped you take a step further in your inferno. 
And then you can smell him. The scent of sweat clinging to his favorite ivory Nike shirt, interlaced with his natural, poetic scent, creating something divine that blesses you with the strength to place your palm on top of his hand. Your coworkers hugged you earlier, clasped your hands in theirs in reassurement and more than welcome it, you absolutely despised it. Lingered in their affection only because you thought you should let yourself be consoled, for you know they care about you. But his touch… that’s not something you sense your body to want to run away from. On the contrary, it seems to be something that it’s missing. 
You can’t part the stream of your new tears with your other hand. 
You spill, completely. 
Jungkook coos, squeezing the bare flesh of your thigh as turns you onto your back and nudges himself between them, plopping his body on top of yours. And then, he’s kissing the place your undone shirt made for him, trailing his lips up your neck, where he stays, where he conjures a garden of fluttering gardenias, their tender petals tickling you. 
“What did they do to my princess?” he murmurs against your skin, his words muffled but heard clearly by your ears. You sob, your chest shuddering in violent staccatos against his, unable to settle, unable to speak. Jungkook lifts his small head and frowns, his thumb swiping your tears away while the rest of his four fingers cradle your cheek. You lean into the balmy safety of the realm of his palm, gaze fixed on the wrinkle between his brows, mouth letting out puffs of soft, gentle exhales. He kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, the wetness of your other cheek—buries his nose into it, right beside yours, inhaling you, giving you fresh air to breathe in. “Don’t cry. I’m gonna decapitate them.” 
The whisper, the hand that parted the stream. You whimper and he steals the traces of your despondency, pecking the new, smooth surface, planting roses to bloom, its roots bestowing you with the ability of speech. 
Two sentences, two miles further in the inferno. Your burnt down trees are lost in the far distance, swallowed by the fire, yet the forest shows every sign of growing anew the longer Jungkook’s heart beats against your breast. 
He’s so benevolently patient with you, not rushing you with your explanation. It all the more drives you to disclose it to him—and you open your mouth to speak, your fingers following suit, helping you with your words as you drag them through the soft mop of his fluffy hair. 
“I made a mistake yesterday while closing up,” you croak out, licking your lips. Jungkook lifts himself onto his elbows, clutching your shoulders, keeping the close proximity intact. His warm grip is a stability you lean on, one you appreciate with every broken shard in you. “I did it five minutes earlier and somebody came in. I sent them away and they filed a complaint against me. They wrote an email to my manager and I… I almost lost my job.”
The wrinkle between his brows deepens and you thumb it, wishing it away. You don’t want to mar his beautiful face because of your foolishness; you want it to remain that soft ball of light that he always is, but then you realize you’re asking for the impossible. His mouth flattens, pity flashes across his round eyes, which helps you perceive that if he didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t love you—and his love is the air you breathe; his love is the ointment you need for your sadness. 
As if he heard you, he kisses you delicately and you sail—skip the purgatory and land in paradiso, a meadow of wildflowers overlooking a cliff that opens the restfulness of the sea, scattered with windswept petals of those lost blossoms, coloring the surface with pinks, whites and the greens of their leaves. 
“Did your manager yell at you?” Jungkook questions, his lips lifted a millimeter above yours, his thumbs fondling the fabric of your shirt upon your shoulders. 
“No, but she was very strict with me. Told me not to cry—”
His breath wafts over your face when he looks into your eyes, displeased. “She made you cry?” 
You cried because through her words you comprehended the gravity of your mistake and its repercussions, not because she deliberately used them to open the dam of your emotions. It’s precisely why she told you not to cry, giving you a hint of her perpetually nonexistent compassion. And you tell him. 
“No, she didn’t. She was very professional with me and made me realize what I did after I apologized. I cried because I was so scared of losing my job, of disappointing her and shit like that.” 
Jungkook purses his lips, shaking his head, curly strands rippling like the tremor of leaves. “She should’ve dropped it after you apologized. Five minutes is nothing, baby. You did nothing to deserve to be treated like that.” 
Your chest heaves, his love and reassurement sifting sand into your bloodstream, the color of ichor. “I know but… you know,” you trail off, indicating the realm of respect all peers must have for the management that you don’t really want to venture into, not when Jungkook had to deal with it as well in his music company. But unlike you, he broke out of its clutches. It cost him tears, frustration and weight loss, but now he’s a free bird of paradise. You don’t wish to make him remember his cage. 
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah, baby, I know, which is why I’m telling you that you didn’t deserve that.” 
Your chin quivers, the negative thoughts that wore you down in his absence returning at full speed. “It affects my mental health when I’m bad at my job.” 
Brows rounding upwards, his eyes flick to your chin, a glossy wetness coating them. He pecks it before he gazes into your irises. “But you’re not bad at your job. You just closed a few minutes earlier. You’re amazing at your job. You make people happy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he says, meaning every word with the way he presses each one into your pupils. You feel its magnetism and you take it. “And I’m proud of you. Every day. You work so hard. Come home tired every day. Deal with people who aren’t always nice to you with kindness that I envy. I’m proud of you, you hear me? You didn’t make a mistake. You did good.”
And there it is, the stampede of your bloodstream—Jungkook has seeped the entirety of the sand until he emptied out his hand and your ichor charges forward, its light like a bud flaring open beneath your skin. And you're floating on that sea in paradiso, your braid adorned with the wet petals that swims back and forth to his arm that holds your body steady upon the surface, the names of the Greek goddesses lining every perimeter, sinking within. 
You’ve become them, all over again. 
“Thank you, Ggukie,” you whisper, running your hand through the front bangs of his hair, gripping them. It’s as if you’re holding the petals. “I needed to hear that.” 
He pouts, touched by the love name. “I know. You need to rest now after such an emotionally exhausting day. No more tears, okay?” 
You nod, feeling whole, feeling like you can face tomorrow with more courage. “Okay.” 
You pout, mimicking him, asking for a kiss and he gives it to you in that same delicate manner, plunging the entirety of the summer’s heat, molded by his hands, into you, making it bearable for you. 
Looks at you for a long time, after. Smiling. 
“You know, I didn’t take a shower after the gym for you,” he says, quirking a smile on your face.
You’re intimately acknowledged with the reason why, yet still you ask: “Why’s that?” 
He reciprocates the smile. “I thought you’d help me wash up. My muscles are sore and all. I lifted the double amount of your body weight.” 
You bite your lip. You’re willing to wash every inch of him with your utmost care. You deem he deserves it for enlivening you, but you’d much rather stay here, inhaling that dizzying scent of him. 
“I’ll do that, but let’s stay here for a little while.” 
Jungkook nods, kissing your jaw before he finds a comfortable place on your bosom, listening to the rush of your ichor, the sun rays upon the sea of that paradiso, inching you closer and closer to God. Augments the ending of that Divine Comedy. 
Doesn’t lead you to the final installment of death, but pushes you to life full of that brisk wind, the humming of the sea and the song of swaying wildflowers. 
Holds your hand. 
Doesn’t let go. 
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𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth.
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© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved
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b14augrana · 3 months
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Kiss of Strife
Football has always been your safe haven, but your home life gradually starts to manifest in different ways away from home, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your captain
Alexia Putellas x teen!reader
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masterlist
Warnings: this story contains depictions of family issues associated with emotional unavailability and forms of abuse. read at your own discretion
A/N: an alexia x teen!reader angst fic was requested so here it is!! i decided this will be multiple parts as well so i hope you enjoy this chapter and the rest of this little series
(i wrote this pretty late at night and it isnt proofread so please excuse any mistakes regarding the tense, grammar etcetc)
Everything is perfect.
You’re scoring goals for your club and bagging assists. Your name is no longer a strange string of consonants and vowels but a recognisable word within the community of Cataluña, and it is only because of an ambition you dedicated the rest of your life to pursuing.
That’s just in the face of football though.
At home, there is a drought. The four walls of a family house are meant to behave like a dam which stores love and affection in the place of water, but your house is devoid of that.
Your house fosters a bitterness that doesn’t go hand in hand with anything along the lines of love and affection. The drawings on the fridge, created by a 5-year-old you, have faded over time, the ink being nothing more than splotches in some areas — a testament to the lack of care and attention your efforts received.
Relationships are barely surviving on simple greetings and empty ‘I love yous’. You crave something that is dangerous to want, but in your heart burns a desire to get the hell out.
Your lullaby is the faint yelling from the living room as you shut your eyes and focus on the gradually increasing volume of both voices, contradicting each other and trying to stab each other with no blade.
Your little sister crawls into your bed, her body flush against yours, another little arm wrapped around hers. Beneath your covers, there is warmth. Beneath your grip, there is safety.
During the school holidays, a child is supposed to savour every waking moment they spend at home and appreciate every day of it. You find yourself asking God why that isn’t the case, as you walk to practise with your sister’s hand in yours.
She sits on the sidelines picking grass as you train with your teammates, dreading the inevitable passing of minutes as you practise skill after skill. When you retreat to the bench for a quick water break, she runs up to you, bunches of chamomiles clutched in her hands that she begs to insert between the weaving of your braid.
From the day of your first training with the team, Alexia was drawn to you. She blamed it on her captain instincts, seeing as you’re the youngest on the team and therefore has the most potential, but now it’s gone beyond her captaincy. She’s known you for months, almost a full year now. She isn’t just your captain anymore.
She isn’t aware of the reality of your home life beyond the telltale signs such as the slightly sunken skin below your eyes or the bruises that taint your skin and are allegedly caused by your ‘clumsiness’. She knows there is something more to the extra effort you constantly put into training and games — she doesn’t know yet that it’s the pent up anger, sadness and fear manifesting in more productive forms.
You pour your heart and soul into the movement of the ball, in hopes that you can pursue your dreams of running away from what is restricting you from pursuing even greater dreams, an actual dream.
School starts back up for your sister. Things have been looking up for you, a huge burden off your shoulders. The house hasn’t shaken with another argument for a while and for once you get to know what silence is while you sleep, really sleep.
With every passing day, you find your memories with your father to resemble a garden; you can’t have a garden without flowers, just like how you can’t have memories of him without doing anything with him. When you were young, your garden was comparable to a rainforest, a new species in every corner, a kaleidoscope of beauty..
Until there was no more new species to plant and nurture, and the ones that already existed were getting neglected because all that you receive when you look at them are sour memories of what once was — the gardener you used to be, how rich the soil was, how steadily the flowers grew and how proud you were of your garden.
Your garden is dead now. It has gotten to the point where he doesn’t care about planting new flowers or watering the plants that already exist, leaving them to die of thirst. He’s absent and his emotional unavailability killed your flowers.
The little girl in you that wanted nothing else but love from her parents, loved that garden with her whole heart. She would’ve done anything she could to plant one more flower, she would’ve used the last drop of water in a drought to water her plants.
Alexia noticed something different about you today. The way you bounced around rather than the usual trudge… you had actual, sleep-induced energy.
Your sister also isn't with you. Alexia later asks you about it while you two are getting water and she learns that your sister is at school, and there is a smile on your face that she didn’t even realise had been absent for days until she saw it again.
Alexia has always been nice to you. The others treat you like a teammate, but she treats you like a friend. It feels like a special privilege, knowing ‘La Reina’ personally. She’s obviously a pillar in women’s football but to you, she’s much more.
She harbours a soft spot for you in her heart that becomes evident when she asks you if you need a ride home, and who are you to turn down such an offer when the ache in your legs is close to becoming unbearable?
“You’re talented, chica,” the woman says as you slink into the passenger seat of her car. “I haven’t had the chance to say it, but there hasn’t been a player like you for quite a bit.”
Her praise is so much more than just a couple of words from your captain. Though you smile and say a shy thank you, your heart races because you’ve just been called talented by one of the best players in the world, and there is no feeling greater than that. It gives you a tiny sliver of hope for a brighter future than what you’re already living, and for a moment, escaping your four walls seems possible.
The joy you experienced during the whole car ride is short lived once her car pulls into your driveway. Perhaps she can see the way your expression drops and your demeanour falls, because her hand finds your shoulder and squeezes it in a way that comforts you. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?” she asks, and though you really wish she could, you shake your head for the better.
There’s a slight frown on her face before she nods and drops her hand. You think about the possibility of her knowing that there’s something going on behind the closed doors of your home, and a big part of you hopes so, but no words besides a ‘gracías’ and ‘adios’ manage to find their way out of your mouth despite the pleas for help and support bubbling in your throat as you shut the door of her car.
When you reach the patio, the door opens to bombard you with the raucous of an argument happening around the corner of the hallway.
Your limbs are barely functioning and your eyes are struggling to stay open which is an obvious sign of the exhaustion soaring through your body, hence why you skip right past seeing your parents and beeline towards your sister’s room.
For as long as you can remember, arguments have been a consistent part of evenings spent in your household. Sometimes violence finds itself becoming the last resort, leaving you stuck to bear the brunt of a heavy hand. It’s what happens when two sides of the same coin try to work out — two negatives can’t make a positive, it’s impossible for them to get along and there is never a last word. That’s the unfortunate reality of your parents’ relationship.
You sink into the soft mattress of your sister’s bed and beckon her from the desk to lay beside you. She flips her paper over and abandons the seat to run over to you, her little body falling into your embrace. When she asks you what they’re talking about this time, you tell your sister that they’re just having a little disagreement, and if she sleeps it off, it’ll go away. It’s a promise, you say, before you proceed to tell her all about your training and your teammates. It’s her favourite thing, and she says it’s better than a bedtime story.
In no time, little exhales slip past her mouth as her eyes flutter shut, and you roll her off your body, tucking her into the butterfly printed duvet. With tentative steps across the hardwood, you find yourself at her desk and your fingers ghost over the piece of paper as you squint to read it in the dimness of her nightlight.
‘Mi papá hermana guapa
My sister is strong. She plays fútbol and she is good at it. My sister takes care of me and takes me to her pracktise, I like going with my sister. She helps me sleep and when I am with my sister, I am not scared. I am proud of m–…’
And the rest trails off. The body remains incomplete, but there’s one last sentence at the bottom of the page.
‘Amo a mi hermana.’
You place it back on her desk as you fail to combat the tears flooding your waterline. ‘She must’ve been instructed to write a poem by her teacher… for Father’s Day’, you think to yourself. Turning away so you don’t ruin her writing with your tears, you wiped them with the back of your Barça jacket sleeve and flipped the page around before making a dead silent exit. The house was completely still beside the low noise of talking from the TV and light snoring.
Your tears are not because of happiness. No, they stream down your face because it’s then that you realise something, and it opens up a whole new portal of questions.
As the streak of silence is broken and you’re forced to fall asleep to the low humming noise from the living room and a restless mind, you wonder what twisted realm of anger and bitterness your father lives in that forbids him from showing the smallest signs of love to his kids.
But, you already know the answer to that question, deep down. Instead, you wonder if you’ll see Alexia tomorrow, stretching in her usual spot, and you wonder if she’ll look up and smile at you again and invite you over.
You hope that’s what will happen. You pray for it.
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