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rafeandonlyrafe · 13 hours ago

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in his corner

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, boxer!rafe, established relationship, p in v sex, semi public sex, violence but not in great detail, unprotected sex, mentions of rafes anger issues

rafes head is down as you step into the locker room. it's dark and gloomy, no need for bright lights that just illuminate the blood and grime more.

the fleeting sunlight peeking in through the windows only casts light upon the dust floating in the room as you close the door behind you, causing rafe to finally look up.

his eyes shift from pure focus to something softer. “hey.” his voice is still low, slightly hoarse from not speaking most of the day.

“hey.” you move the rest of the way into the room, your footsteps sounding thunderous in the silence that always cloaks the gym before a fight, especially one like this.

“ill be safe.” you see a hint of humor in his eyes now as you roll yours. you always tell rafe to stay safe before a fight, it's become such an expectation that he beats you to it.

“do you have your gloves?” you ask, looking towards his gym bag, wanting to rifle through it to make sure rafe has everything he needs, even though you packed it for him.

“of course.” rafe smiles, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs and pulling you closer into him, his forehead pressing against your stomach.

“you're nervous for this one.” rafe states. he doesn't need to ask, he can tell just by your energy, the way your breathing is more frantic, your eyes opened ever so slightly wider than normal.

“im not the one in the ring.” you hum, hand coming to the back of his neck, stroking over his hairline, taming it despite knowing it's only a few minutes before it's going to get messed up again, either by rafe rubbing at it or the opponent.

“i know.” rafe looks up at you, a soft smile on his face. “but ya love me.”

“mmm, unfortunately.” you joke, a smile flashing across your lips before you drop your head to press your mouths against rafe, the kiss hungry and desperate, knowing it may be your last for a while if rafe gets his lip busted open.

“okay-” rafe sighs, pulling away, restraint in his voice as his insides call to continue kissing you. “it's almost time. love you.”

“love you too.” you back away but keep your eyes locked with rafe until your back is pressed up against the door. “win for me.”

you step out, eyes flickering around his team, waiting in the hallway for you, knowing better than to interrupt your moment with rafe.

“he's ready.” you nod to rafes coach before ducking out of the way as they file into the locker room.

you can hear the noise of the crowd grow as you walk into the arena, rows of seats all facing towards the central octagon. none of the security stops you to ask for a ticket as you walk to the front, rafe has become a headliner at the boxing gym, and you a vip along with it.

you take your seat, a coveted one, right in rafes corner. you know he has supporters, and while you appreciate most of them, the female ones who fawn over him anger you every time they shout his name or try to give him their number, but his quick shut down of advances always washes away the brief resentment.

“hey y/n.” rafes coaches brother, lewis, sits next to you, your de facto personal bodyguard. you insisted you didn't need someone looking over you, but rafe was always worried about a fight starting in the crowd. it certainly wouldn't be the first one that has broken out at a boxing gym.

“hi lewis.” you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and lean back in your seat as the prematch comes out, beginner fighters to keep all the early attendees from getting impatient while the crowd grows and seats fill.

overall, it's a professional arena. not on a pro level by any standards, but the best you can get in the area without making boxing full time. it certainly puts the smaller gyms rafe started out in to shame.

you were the one who originally suggested it. any sort of contact sport to work through some of his anger. you saw it bubbling under the surface, and you knew rafe would never do anything in your presence, even if he wanted to scream and punch a wall, he'd bottle it all in just to not scare you.

you clap as the first round comes to an end, ever the good supporter and attendee. it's part of the reason the gym likes rafe so much, he's no fuss, no personal drama, just pure fighting.

there's more rounds as you wait to see rafe, the rest of the seats being filled along with standing room in the back for anyone getting in late.

a new referee steps into the ring, a professional with years of experience who doesn't bother with the lower level fights, saving himself for the main event.

you sit up a little straighter in your seat as your eyes move to the door, a smile stretching over your cheeks as rafe steps out to applause and the thumbing base of a rap song. you applaud as well, keeping your eyes on rafe despite knowing he won't look at you, not until he gets in the ring, some sort of superstition that he's developed as he keeps his head down.

the other fighter comes out to the booming announcement of their name, a silly nickname you immediately disregard. clearly someone trying to rise the ranks and become a well known name, but you can tell just by his stature that rafe will take him down.

you breathe a little sigh of relief as rafe climbs into the ring and looks over to you, a slight smirk you're sure only you can see. he knows just as well as you do that this will be an easy day.

the official facilitates the handshake between the opponents before they're back to their corners to tape wrists and put on gloves, getting everything prepared. you keep your eyes on rafe, of course, taking in his every movement.

you feel a stirring in your stomach as he stands, tank top stretched tight across his body while his shorts are looser, allowing him to move easily around the ring.

you hear a woop coming from the back but know better than to divert your attention, rafe surging forward right when the official starts the round. he wastes no time throwing quick punches before defending, stepping to the side to miss the opponents swipes.

rafe lands a few more blows, but you don't cheer yet. you've made the mistake before of thinking he's in the clear too early.

the movement of rafes body is almost a dance, one driven by passion. his biceps bulge with every punch, swear gathering on his chest, making your mouth water as you watch.

the officials whistle to end the round makes you jump, too wrapped up in rafes looks to pay attention to the fight like you know you should.

you really do try to shift your attention back, but as the next round starts, you're quickly drawn back to watching rafes body and smooth movements.

every punch he throws makes your legs tighten further, hoping the pressing of your thighs offers you some sort of relief, but any comfort is fleeting.

your body responds for you when the fight comes to end, rising to your feet and clapping as you snap back to attention. rafe of course wins, the opponent not even getting a punch to his face other than a brief touch on his jaw that didn't even knock his mouthguard.

“i knew you'd win.” you smile and step forward as rafe comes to the ropes, leaning over to press his lips against yours.

“let me talk to the team and shower then we'll get out of here, yeah?” rafe kisses you again before leaning in to whisper into your ear. “i can tell you're turned on.”

“how'd you know?” you question as rafe shifts the car into drive, his free hand immediately coming to your thigh as he pulls out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“that you were- are turned on?” rafe smirks, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead. “you get a look in your eyes, baby. and i can tell you want me.”

“and i have that look right now?” you hum out, turning the volume up on the radio slightly as the kid cudi song comes on.

“mhm. and it'll only intensify when i do this-” rafes hand slides upwards between your thighs. you quickly part them for him, letting out a soft moan as his fingers rub right where he knows you like it best.

“shit.” you lean back into the seat, trying to keep yourself from jumping over the center console and pouncing on rafe instantly. you pray you don't hit traffic as he presses harder on the gas pedal, ready to get home as well.

“you looked so pretty tonight cheering me on baby.” rafe pushes his fingers harder against your pants, creating tight circles. “even if you were spaced out the entire time.”

“mhm.” you hum, not even truly listening to what rafe is saying, just enjoying the tambor of his voice and the feeling growing in your stomach.

you know when rafe laughs that it's at you and your current state, but you've done far too much and been with him far too long to be embarrassed or ashamed by your lust as you let out another moan.

your eyes are glossy as you turn to look at rafe, hand gripping the wheel tightly with a clear tent in his sweatpants. you blink a few times to clear your vision as you take in his hard set jaw, tension building as he is forced to wait to get inside you.

you reach over to place your hand on rafes crotch, hoping the pressure of your hand sustains him a little longer.

“it's taking everything in me not to pull over and fuck you here in the car.” rafe says through gritted teeth.

you look out the windshield as rafe moves his hand to grip the steering wheel with both hands, needing it now that you're touching him to keep the vehicle steady. “we're almost home.” you hum out, petting your fingertips over his length, contemplating pushing his pants down and bending over the center console, but your clenching pussy needs him.

rafe pulls into the driveway at speeds he shouldn't be going inside a residential neighborhood, the car calming to a halting stop, and not even a second passes before you're out of your seats and out of the car.

rafe beats you to the front door, throwing it open for you to rush inside, locking it tight after you've entered.

you know you won't make it to the bed. you never do on nights like this. both on a high from rafe winning his fight, an easy opponent with not even a scratch to his knuckles.

rafe presses you against the wall of the hallway, his body molding against yours as his lips smash forward into a passionate kiss. you reach between your bodies immediately, knowing you're already soaking wet and ready from rafe playing with you in the car.

you push down on the hem of rafes sweatpants until rafe moves his hips and allows you to shove them down along with his underwear.

rafe lets out a sigh as your hand wraps around his length, holding his cock in your grasp as you quickly begin to stroke.

“fuck, baby.” rafe places his fist around your hand. “as much as i love you touching me like this i need to be inside you now.”

there's a desperation in his voice that makes something in your chest tighten.

you nod and release him, undoing your button and zipper to shove your pants to the ground and kick them away. rafe grabs the hem of your tshirt before you can take it off yourself, pulling it up over your head before it also joins the clothes scattered around the foyer.

rafe connects your lips back together, his hands sneaking behind your back to undo your bra before pulling the cups off, large palms quickly replacing them as he holds your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze that has your mouth falling open in a satisfied sigh.

“bedroom, counter or right here?” rafe asks, pulling on your lip before you can answer and giving it a tug.

“right here.” you reach down and take rafes cock in your hand, giving it a stroke. “right here, right now.”

“mmm, don't have to tell me again.” rafes arms circle around you and pull you up, pinning you against the wall. your body moves so naturally like it's done a hundred times before, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

rafe lines up his cock with your entrance and sinks forward. your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him in tight, mouth dropping open and eyes squeezing closed as he slowly enters you.

“oh god.” rafe groans, mouth opening as well, but to press his teeth against your skin, biting down gently so as to not actually hurt you, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

“fuck me rafe.” your fingertips are digging into his shoulders, trying not to pierce him with your nails as you grip onto his muscles, muscles he just used to pummel his opponent.

“fuck me hard.” you don't often ask for it hard or really give him any direction. rafe knows how to please you, but it's different today. you need his full force, everything he has left in him.

and he doesn't make you wait.

rafe pulls his cock out slowly before slamming in, forcing your ass back into the wall with a thud, your whole body shuddering as he thrusts.

you tighten your arms even more, needing your bodies to become one as he pumps his hips forward, the sound of skin meeting together spreading through the empty house.

tomorrow, you'll clean up the clothes off the floor. tomorrow, you'll make a large breakfast to replenish rafe from his fight and open every window in the house to let in light and air, but tonight, you're going to remain in the dark hallway with your legs wrapped around rafes waist.

“harder.” you beg again, even though you're not sure you can take it.

rafe complies, swinging faster as one of his hands manages to find a way between your bodies, tips of his fingers pressing against your clit. he knows he should fuck you longer, but he can build you up again for the second time in the bedroom, you've teased each other too much and he needs to feel you fall apart in his arms.

“you're so tight and warm.” rafe mumbles, burying his face in your neck as he huffs, absorbing your heart after being apart physically for too long, the cold air of the gym and locker room now being replaced with you.

“i love you.” rafe mumbles, lips against your neck as he presses a few kisses to your throat. “thank you.”

he doesn't need to say what for. you understand. for being with him, for encouraging him to try boxing, for standing by his side and knowing what's best for him even when he didn't know himself.

“i love you.” you moan out, pussy clenching around rafes cock as your high suddenly hits, back arching off the wall in pleasure only to be slammed back against it as rafe pushes as deep as he can go inside of you, the squeezing of your cunt triggering his own high as his cum spurts inside of you.

“f-fuck.” you whine, nails fully leaving marks now as you breathe deeply, chest rising and falling, pressing against rafes with every breath.

“let's go take a bath.” rafe says, his voice suddenly softer, almost like the sex was the last bit of excursion he needed to calm himself after the fight.

“okay.” you can't help but giggle.

despite your agreement, rafe doesn't pull out, his softening cock still inside of you and bodies connected.

“okay.” you repeat, pressing your lips against rafes cheek before resting your head against his, realizing what he needs in that moment. “i love you.”

you stay there, still, for minutes that stretch into what feels like hours, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“okay.” rafe finally responds, eyes blinking with a new clarity, any sort of anger or frustration he had before the fight now freed from inside him. “bath time, yeah?”

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gothhabiba · 3 days ago

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@ anon

I think it might be actually dangerous to publish your ask, but I'm sure from my response people will be able to tell what it's about anyway.

You're full of actual, absolute shit if you're pretending not to know by now that verification processes to ensure the legitimacy of Ghazzawin's fundraisers have been undertaken, and that details about what these processes entail have been shared by several people. Several people, some of them currently in Gaza, put themselves through countless hours of work video-calling people, judging their knowledge of dialectical Arabic, seeing their faces and their children's faces and their living conditions, seeing IDs and bank information, asking invasive, personal questions that they didn't want to be asking & that the people responding probably didn't want to be answering, and physically visiting people in Gaza and video-recording their interactions, just so that people like you could be sure that these fundraisers were legitimate. If you're ignoring all of the blood & tears that went into that process just so you can hand-wring about scams, no one needs to be concerned with convincing you of the legitimacy of anything, because you were never going to donate to these people anyway. You are just looking for any plausible-sounding excuse not to do what you already didn't want to do.

If, by some miracle, you actually didn't know about the verified fundraiser spreadsheet (which is frankly still blameable bc, where on earth have you been?), then there it is. The post of mine that you're referring to never even mentioned responding to asks; using this spreadsheet is an absolutely valid, reasonable way of donating directly to families.

Now let me treat some of your statements as though they were questions (which, they were not).

How do people in Gaza have internet access?

Internet infrastructure in Gaza is very robust (e.g. in what cables are made of, how deep they're buried, amounts of redundancy in the system, &c.) because they have been getting bombed by Israel all the fucking time for decades, so they expect this infrastructure to be put through a lot. There have still--if you've been following the situation at all--been several outages caused by damage that Ghazzawin have needed to repair. Though I do have to say that I find it odd that you doubt Ghazzawin have internet access, but also say that you buy eSims...?

A lot of people right now are indeed connected via eSim, which to my understanding only need to connect to wifi once, right when they're activated. People put themselves at risk to connect to eSims because they need to get a good wifi signal, which usually means walking for several miles trying to find high ground. One of my contacts once urgently called me (this is the only time he hadn't just texted) because he had been told his friend had found a signal and so they needed an eSim right then, before they went back to their tent.

I've been trying for some time to connect another of my contacts in Gaza to an eSim, but we're not having success. At Crips for eSims for Gaza they / we (I'm on the server getting advice and helping out but I'm not using their funding; I'm using what people on tumblr have given me to purchase eSims with) keep a constantly updated sheet of which eSim providers use which networks and which networks work in which areas--because the situation is constantly changing. Because my contact doesn't have an eSim on a personal phone, she has to go to a central location to be allotted three hours of internet access from someone who has managed to get connected. Lots of people, on their fundraising posts and pages, specify exactly how they've gotten internet access, how difficult it's been for them to get it, and how stressful it is to be relying on this tenuous connection, spending hours away from their families (at high risk of being shot at by IOF soldiers the whole time), just to message people for hours straight and then go home again.

2. How do people in Gaza have tumblr accounts?

This is a stupid question. Anyone with an email address who is capable of picking a username and password can make a tumblr account. I have personally helped several of my contacts in Gaza with the process.

3. How do people in Gaza know to come into people's tumblr accounts?

This is also a stupid question. I don't really see how you could ask this question if you saw Palestinians as, like, real humans beings. You understand that people talk to each other, yes? Like with words? As soon as a few people had success fundraising to evacuate Gaza on tumblr (nearly a year ago... this news has had a lot of time to spread), obviously they told other people about it.

One of the ways that Israel conducts its genocidal war is through the destructiveness of frustration and boredom. It's a strange situation because everything is extremely dire, urgent, terrifying, and dirty, but there's also seldom anything to do. People are singing, telling stories, going to the beach, inventing games and contests, to entertain children, but also to entertain themselves. And this is the situation--with a bunch of desperate, bored people packed into a tiny piece of land--this is the situation that you think it's impossible for people to talk to each other in? Come on.

If you want to donate to Anera and World Food Kitchen and buy eSims, that's fantastic. Please do that. But if you are as ignorant of the particulars of what this situation is like as your ask makes you appear, then I hope you refrain from speaking on what the situation is like.

I've been nattering on for a long time so here's my call to action:

Decide what you're capable of giving right now, or the next time you get paid

Scroll down on the vetted fundraiser spreadsheet and find someone very low on funds, or with injured children who urgently need treatment or evacuation, and give that money.

AND / OR give it to the PCRF or the IRW

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lodane · 2 days ago

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Tubi Testimony (pirate POV, tubi-n-chill x reader)

Context? i came to the site for gothic soap opera Dark Shadows on ABC in the late 1960s. if you're gonna do the same... look for "Dark Shadows: the Beginning" because that's the real 1966 start of the series (before Barnabas shows).

Ads... Like, ANY?

first things first... i assume tubi has ads but i use ublock-origin (win10, firefox/opera) and haven't seen any... at all... ever.

. n . o . t . h . i . n . g .

Account?

in my browser, you don't have to have an account. I REPEAT: NO SIGN-UP OR SIGN-IN REQUIRED. can't speak for the phone app, haven't used it 🤷‍♀️

Watch Party

i'm not sure if they're one of the services that black out the screen when you stream to friends on discord/etc. (tbh i don't think they do this? but...) if so they're one i've worked around by disabling hardware acceleration in the browser's settings. 🤷‍♀️ like candy from a babbyform.

Subtitles [CC]

the captions aren't perfect but they're a straight up SRT file 👀 you can rip with anything (including, just, like... the ublock logger showing you the direct URL). i don't know where they came from, and they don't seem *entirely* automagically generated... so, i can't tell if they're pulled from some (phoned-in) DVD, they're paying someone to caption, scraping some (really half-assed) fan subs...or some combo?

this is important to me since i'm going to be fixin' up my OWN fan subs for this show and it's great when someone saves you some legwork. i use downsub dot com (which is SHOCKINGLY not a k*nk site) to scrape the captions when i'm being lazy.

The Video Itself

the videos themselves are quite easily obtained, too... but... i'll tell ya... i never bothered ripping the show, and i stopped downloading it from elsewhere atm, because i legit enjoy just watching it on tubi... the vibes are good, the ux/ui are good, and they basically have the same files as i can find elsewhere (admittedly scuffed, for the example of Dark Shadows) on any archive or torrent for a show...

i can side-by-side a rip to a file and see there's basically no difference... so i don't think they attempt any reformatting/editing/etc. of the media they, uh, obtain... from... somewhere?

🤔

actually... i have a test for this... brb...

(pulls up Buffy's 'Once More with Feeling' on Tubi)

so, since it's shockingly different on various platforms and editions, it's a great little litmus test.

VISUAL DIFFERENCES? placing the file and tubi side-by-side, playing the exact same spot... yeah, i guess... there's a little bitsy change in color/contrast/fuzz (very likely just throwing a few less pixels on the screen) that's probably just some lossy compression they do to make it easier to house/stream all these files…

BUT WHICH VERSION IS IT? for Buffy's s06e07, OMWF, they have the 00:50:45 runtime version, which afaik is "the good* version" with all the original visuals intact. i'm sure someone is a bigger Buffy scholar than me, but i think this the "DVD version" (not an old DVR/TV rip, like i subsisted on for years, not the terrible blu-ray wherein they cut several minutes).

the captions are LITERALLY identical from the "Buffy The Vampire Slayer Season 1 to 7 Mp4 1080p" torrent (which, again, are likely originally from the DVDs).

tangent: the entire scene before and after "I Have a Theory" is an amazing case study in why those Blu-Rays were strangely good 5% of the time but absolutely still ruined the show. why? well, tbh there are a couple edits this episode could use… changes that were made for the better in the blu-ray version, like... i guess i can understand taking out the donut/cruller Magnolia PUA joke, since it's very dated? along with Anya dropping the m-slur… we could lose that, for sure [which, i just checked, is in the tubi version, so it's def not blu-ray]. too bad the blu-ray also kills the pterodactyl joke??? they cut out the shared visual framing device of the shoppe's door/bell when buffy/dawn enter for one but leave the other? it feels like the level of brainpower that went into that Hitchhiker's Guide movie when they ruined the joke about "beware the jaguar" and all that in the first 10 minutes?

conclusion...

go watch Dark Shadows: The Beginning or Buffy the Vampire Slayer on tubi tv ig? do a fan sub for the first 365 episodes of an ancient soap opera in a desperate effort to get ppl to watch it?

fuck man idk...

💋

Tubi is the best streaming service because it captures the feeling of a video store, but not a corporate video store like Blockbuster, or even a good indie store, but a rundown video rental place under a overpass weeks away from closing down. You'll find, like, 2001: A Space Odyssey next to a unwatchable copy of a 70s exploitation film and a micro-low-budget indie and a movie called STRIPPER VAMPIRE MASSACRE III but you can find no evidence of STRIPPER VAMPIRE MASSACRE one or two existing.

This is a real, commercial streaming service and they've uploaded films with the DVD menu visible for the first few seconds bc it's a recording of a DVD copy. What a titan in the landscape of streaming

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archangeldyke-all · 2 days ago

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isha being non verbal it's so important to me because i also go non verbal sometimes and i can spent days like that so i got a request about it 🙂‍↕️

so, despite trying to learn sign language, i got some kind of made up sing language that i use to communicate with my sister and my parents, it's not the most pratical but they understand me so it's fine

i was thinking about reader that sometimes goes non verbal, an then her and isha made up a secret sing language that only them can understand and sometimes sevika it's being grumpy or jinx more annoying than usual and they use it to talk shit about them, at first sevika and jinx don't notice it but at some point they start to get at the fact they can't understand those sign and be like "hey whats happening here"

or maybe just something about sev and a non verbal reader, anything it's fine 🤗

this is just so sweet omg okay

men and minors dni

there are a lot of adjustments you have to make in your life when jinx and isha come tumbling into it.

for one thing, any semblance of privacy you and sevika once had is out the window. neither isha or jinx find the need to knock, no matter how much you beg them to.

never in your life did you think you'd be making a category in your monthly budget for toys-- but here you are.

adjusting to jinx's picky eating habits (mostly her refusal to eat anything that isn't spicy enough to kill an infant) has been a challenge, but over time you've managed to find several dishes that get her veggies in her.

but, luckily, you never had to adjust to isha's muteness.

you go mute sometimes. sevika's known this about you since you first started dating, and when she moved you into her home a few years down the road, she started taking sign language classes, just so she could communicate with you on your mute days.

it's the nicest, sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you. and now it's paying off doubly, because you and sevika get to teach your girls the language.

jinx, surprisingly, is the most excited about it. she's always asking you or sevika to teach her how to sign something, and for the longest time you just think it's another thing the girl's freakishly good at.

but then, one night, you walk by the girls' room and catch them whispering under jinx's covers, a flashlight illuminating their silhouettes as jinx gently walks isha through the new signs she learnt from sevika earlier in the evening.

at the time, isha had rolled her eyes and gotten frustrated, her little fingers not able to keep up with sevika's; and she ran away from the dinner table to color in the living room.

and now, here's jinx, taking the time to gently, slowly work her little sister through the motions, encouraging her with soft cheers and claps. isha lets out an excited little giggle, and you hear a loud, wet smooch ring out from under the covers. "you're doin' it kid!"

your heart clenches, and you sprint back to your bedroom to tell sevika about the adorable sight you'd just walked in on.

over time, with you and sevika's teachings and jinx's special encouragement, isha starts to sign more and more.

it's great. you get a better understanding of isha's personality now that she can communicate with you, and you're always shocked by the little girl's humor. she makes you laugh so much you've been going to bed with sore abs almost every day.

best of all though, are the days when both you and isha are mute and signing all day. it usually ends with the two of you coming up with some secret codes-- mostly born out of mistakes, some born out of jokes about your speaking family.

it leads to the two of you having your own little language.

when sevika's acting particularly grumpy, or hungry, or protective-- you or isha will catch each other's eyes and quickly sign a single word. 'bear'

when jinx is locked in on an invention even isha can't understand, answering isha's questions with single word sentences, scratching her head and humming to herself as she scribbles on her notebooks; isha will come find you and sadly sign 'jinx went monkey mode.' you'll just giggle and find something to do with the girl to keep her entertained as jinx works.

sometimes, isha will flash you a special waggle of her fingers-- something only the two of you know. it's her request for attention, a way for her to ask for a hug or some cuddles. it always makes something special burst inside you, and you're quick to wrap the girl up in your arms.

when isha gets tired of signing, her mind tired from communicating all day, you'll check in on her and she'll give you a gentle little flick of her hand-- her way of saying she's done talking for the day. you've started using the little sign on your own, when talking gets too overwhelming, you'll use it to tell your family that you want to sign.

so, some of you and isha's private language leaks out into your whole family's use. but, most of it stays special between the two of you.

...until you get caught.

sevika's practically hanging off of you as you make dinner, nuzzling against your throat and taking deep breaths of your scent; when isha comes running into the kitchen, singing for help to tie her apron.

you chuckle, pulling her up onto the counter in front of you and wrapping the ties of her apron around her waist, tying them into a little bow and giving her a kiss.

what's wrong with big mama? she asks, reaching out to tug a strand of sevika's hair. you chuckle, and sevika grunts, stirring on your shoulder.

bear. you sign back.

isha giggles and sevika grunts against you.

"what'd you just call me?" she asks. you freeze, and isha bursts into nervous laughter.

"nothin'." you say. sevika nips your throat and you squeak. "ah! nothing!" you squeal.

"you called me a bear?" she asks.

isha bursts into breathy giggles, her feet kicking with excitement as sevika slowly pulls away to glare at you.

"no?" you squeak.

sevika grunts, and then she flings you in the air.

isha bursts into squeals and you curse, scrambling to hold onto sevika as she tosses you around.

"i'll show you a bear!" she growls, grinning at the sound of isha's laughs. you can't stop screaming and laughing, and when sevika finally sets you down, she turns to isha with a glower. "you think im a bear?"

isha's cackling and shaking her head no, squirming as sevika reaches forward to start tossing her around.

you watch with glee as you wife throws you screaming, squealing kid in the air, both of them laughing between sevika's attempts at bear noises.

jinx stumbles in with a confused look, until she sees the way isha's laughing. she ducks under your arm, leaning against you.

"what happened here?" she asks. you snort.

"sevika figured out some of our secret language."

jinx chuckles. "how you guys call her a bear?"

"you knew!?"

"you aren't subtle." she says with a giggle as isha starts to karate chop sevika's back and shoulders. "i know about you two callin' me a monkey too." she huffs.

you cackle and kiss her forehead. "that was isha's nickname."

"figures. little shit." jinx says fondly.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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formulamar · 14 hours ago

Text

puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 1

max verstappen x vet!yn

fc: girls from pinterest

summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?

vetyn

liked by albon_pets and 2,568 others

vetyn we had the cutest visitor today! 🐱💗

210 comments

ynbestfriend: hard at work or hardly working 🧐

vetyn: you’re just jealous i’m not crunching numbers all day 🙄

ynsfriend: can’t decide who’s cuter!

albon_pets: Dr. Yn we thought WE were the CUTEST?

vetyn: i promise YOU ARE! also some of my finest patients 🐾

albono23: now i can’t help but wonder which sibling commented this 😭😭😭

rumorhasitf1

liked by lion33, maxiellvr and 4,672 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR HAS IT 🚨

Nearly 7 months after his dramatic split with his ex-girlfriend, it appears like Max is on the hunt for love 👀. Sources confirm the World Champion has recently joined the popular celebrity dating app Raya and he has been spotted out on a few dates. Is it possible we might see a new face in the RB garage soon?

531 comments

maxiellvr: lowkey i feel like he's going to end up dating who we least expect

30three: like Kendall Jenner or something 😭

rbgirl: no because when i saw that TikTok with his Raya profile I actually jumped!!!!

dutch1: sooooooooo who's gonna help a girl out and let Max know i'm free any day of the week!

vermax: no fr I wish he would do a Jeremy Fragrence type thing so I could apply to be his girlfriend 😒

verstappen4life: NOT THE JEREMY FRAGRANCE LMAODHJ

maxisfast: I never thought this day would come...@/maxverstappen1 OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU

frmlamax: yeah so, actually, he was on those dates with me sos xx

jimandsas1: hey, girly! so I know we don't know each other but...

maxstap1: dates. DATES. we all see that s at the end of DATE right? oh those lucky girls...

twitter

vetyn’s story

translation: “new client”

twitter

vetyn

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,954 others

vetyn: joyeux anniversaire à moi 🥳 (happy anniversary to me)

it's been 6 AMAZING years of having my dream job. feeling very grateful today. can't wait to keep learning, growing and meeting adorable friends 💘

245 comments

lilymhe: LETS GOOOO YN! WE'RE ALL SUPER PROUD! (but mostly me duh)

vetyn: thank you! you're my fav! (don't tell alex pls)

alex_albon: Oh ok. Cool. We pick favorites now.

char16: now WHAT is going on in the albono house 😭

ynbestfriend: ily girl. can't wait to celebrate you this weekend 😝

liked by vetyn

alexandrasaintmleux: Félicitations, belle ❤️‍🔥

vetyn: merci belle 🥰

albon_pets: Thanks for everything, doc 🤓

liked by vetyn

ynfriend: so proud!

roscoelovescoco: All's My Love's Dr. YN

vetyn: Awwww thank you Roscoe, I miss ya!

russ63: NOW WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT YN IS ROSCOE'S VET TOO????

ham1lton: omg yes. I believe he was the og f1-related client and then it was the albon pets

ynsister: love you. almost reunited 🇪🇸

liked by vetyn

rumorhasitf1

liked by maxlov3r and 5,728 others

rumorhasitf1: Looks like Max Verstappen had a wild night out celebrating his 6th win of the season in Barcelona 👀

1,034 comments

rbgirl: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH THAT SHOULD BE ME THIS IS SO SAD THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

maxstap1: you're so quick with it LMFAO

maxlovescats: WOAH I JUST WOKE UP?????

butfirstmax: honestly i'm so happy for him go live your life king

maxisfast: is this like his frat boy era

hamstappen: I swear if they're back together and I threw that party for nothing

hamstappen: just kidding hehe

rbgirl: HELPPPPPPPPPP

vermax: rb pr team prob freaking out as we speak

30three: and Max is sleeping soundly

sluttycatdad: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

maxielno1: okay now... doesn't that kinda look like....

justaninchident: that's what I was thinking too

username: wait who

maxielno1: his ex

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, vetyn and 1,309,672 others

maxverstappen1: Barcelona, that was fun! Let's do it again?

23,672 comments

redbullracing: 🦁

rbgirl: oh trust we saw it was fun

maxisfast: 😭

maxielno1: SIMPLY LOVELY 🥰

f1fan: LETS GO CHAMP 🙌

vetyn: mega! 💙💙

maxverstappen1: 😘💙

albono33: YN?

rbgirl: idk who this is but what is happenig here....

30three: so proud of you! 🧡

verstappen4life: yes! let’s do this everytime!

vermax: great job!!!! glad you had fun 😉

martingarrix: Mate how was the club?

maxverstappen1: Pretty good 😂

f1fan: 🔥🔥🔥

somedutchguy: LEGEND

twitter

vetyn's story

to be continued..

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

a/n: y’all probably caught on already but this is set during the 2024 season anddddd i just wanted to do one part but tumblr is super annoying with the image limit 🙁 but lmk if you’re interested in a pt. 2! have a great day/night 🫶💐

278 notes · View notes

ilikeyoshi · 3 days ago

Text

"#yes yes yes!!!! #and ngl it makes me want to read or engage with it more too!"

i hope it's ok to point out these tags bc this is SUCH a huge mood i think deserves a little more explanation!!!! (at least from my perspective as both a creator (writer) and fan (of artists))

i used to have a ton of anxiety when creating and especially sharing my works, and my impulse was always to talk down on it, because a) i* (*my anxiety) believed it to be bad, and b) because i had this idea in my head that if i lowered people's expectations, they wouldn't be as disappointed when reading it.

i want to tell you what i've learned in my years of both being a writer and being a fan of artists, and it's that this is a terrible, terrible anxiety fallacy (like so many ideas/misconceptions borne of anxiety are) that ONLY hurts you, your work, and your potential readers(/fans/etc). it SOUNDS like a good idea when you have really bad anxiety, i know, i used to DEPEND upon this idea just to have the courage to SHARE my writing—and i want to emphasize that it's OKAY if you've done this before, it's an easy, easy trap to fall into, but i also want you to try and stop doing it because there are a lot of reasons you would feel better and do better for doing so.

you are what you practice! if you only ever focus on or speak about the flaws in your art, you WILL feel negatively about your art. my very first therapist explained it in a way that still really resonates with me: you have created a well-beaten, highly trafficked "road" in your brain. it is very easy to take this road because even though it's longer to your destination, it winds and bends, it's walked on so much it's flat and easy to traverse. when you try to build a NEW path—in this case, a path where you focus on what you like about your art—you're starting with no path at all. it's all undergrowth and vines and thorns and it hurts and it's tiring and you feel like this will NEVER be easier or feel better than the old path. but you have to keep taking the new one. you have to beat down the undergrowth until it recedes, cut down the low-hanging branches until you can walk with your back straight, and if you keep at it, if you keep at this thing that feels so pointless and stupid and hard, eventually, the path will be clear, and easy to walk, and you'll make great time getting to your destination because it cuts straight through; no winding or bending. and the old path? it will overgrow, and it will become hard and stupid to take. you have to beat the new path because once it's beaten, it'll be the far superior path in every way, including ways the old path was never superior even when it WAS the one you were always taking.

further—as these tags point out, and as i agree with wholeheartedly—by disparaging your art, you DO lower people's expectations. people don't want to be sad, frustrated, disappointed when they look at art—at least, not unless the art itself is trying to tell a story about that. you get what i mean, i hope—they don't want to go INTO something they already HAVE negative reviews on—your reviews! you, the creator, have already told this person the story/art/whatever is going to be bad, and i know, i KNOW it's not your intention, you're hoping someone will see through what you can't and tell you no, no, this is good, i liked this! and some people do! but you make it a lot harder for them TO do that when you tell them right at the beginning, "this is going to be bad, i don't like it," because what you're unintentionally telling them is, "and you probably won't like it either." the first way i learned this was in people always saying in their fanfic summaries, before you even open the fic, "the summary is bad, i'm bad at writing summaries, the story is better trust me bro." because what this does—again, so unintentionally, i KNOW what you're trying to do because i've been you—is you're telling the reader, "here's my pitch, here's the hook to my entire story, it's the worst part, it's bad, but the rest will be better," and what they KNOW is they've already put the time in reading the summary, and it's hard to commit MORE time to something when you've already told them it's bad, even if you promise the rest is better. it's like biting into a fruit and you hate the taste of the skin; it's harder to try the rest of the fruit when, so far, it's been bad (or you've been made to believe it's bad).

so what's the solution? how do you begin beating that new path? well, it depends on you. everyone's a little different in how they navigate stuff like this. but what worked for me, and what might be a good place to start (and by all means adapt as you figure out what works and what doesn't), is start by just NOT saying anything negative. no, "i don't like this," or "the summary's bad, sorry," or anything. write your artist's comment, author's note, whatever as normal, and REMOVE anything that depicts your art/writing/etc in a bad light. just don't give people any opinion whatsoever on what experiencing your creation is going to be like. this, for me, was easier than jumping straight to, "i'm pretty proud of this," or "i enjoyed working on this," because it wasn't withholding AND replacing, it was JUST withholding. going back to the roads and paths metaphor, i think of this part as the "taking a breather before i get to work on this monumental task of beating this new path" stage.

then, overtime, i started "stretching" my positive comments about my works. if i liked, say, TWO LINES out of a whole piece of writing, i'd say, "i'm really proud of this work!" because i AM proud of ANYTHING AT ALL, NO MATTER HOW SMALL, within the work. it's not a LIE, to anyone including yourself, but it is, perhaps, an EXAGGERATION. that's OKAY. we're trying to teach our brain to look on the bright side, to take the new path, and i've found that treating it a little bit like a dog—giving it a treat for ANY TINY BIT OF PROGRESS, was a good way to encourage myself to start making MORE progress. ESPECIALLY because the tags i reposted above are RIGHT: LOTS of people are MORE interested in a work when their very first impression (YOUR impression!!!) is positive. 'the artist/writer/etc is proud of this? oh, i'm so glad they had a good time creating, let's take a look!" it probably sounds too easy if you're still taking that anxiety-beaten road, i know, but try to think of how you've felt when someone disparages their creations versus uplifts them. were you put off by the negativity? were you sad that your friend worked so hard on something and didn't even like it? conversely, doesn't it make you a little excited when an artist says they really feel good about something they made, especially in a world where so many artists ARE feeling inadequate? i hope you see what i mean.

it's not an overnight thing, of course, this took me YEARS. this took a miracle that doesn't happen to most people: i wrote something i felt SO TERRIFIED people wouldn't like, even though i was secretly very proud of it (but too scared to dare suggest i was proud of it), so i indicated all kinds of things like "i hope you like it, i dunno if it's any good, it's just a little thing i'm chipping away at in my spare time" (it was not, it was a full-blown passion project) and, against the odds, a LOT OF PEOPLE told me they really really really liked it. a couple of friends who were decently popular in the fandom it was for liked and shared it and i got A LOT of encouragement. i basically got to beat my new path with a HORDE of helpers, and it was more like THEY beat the path for me and i chased along like, "what is happening, oh my god, what are you doing???"

i got really lucky. that doesn't always, or even usually happen. in most other areas of my life, i've had to beat the path myself. and it takes a long time if you're doing it on your own. but you should anyway, because it's so fucking worth it dude. yeah, it was awesome to get so much help with my writing confidence specifically, but it's been just as worth it every time i've had to do it alone too. and i have good news! there ARE ways to tell people you're on this journey of making yourself a new path. here are some suggestions:

"i'm new/rusty at this, so please let me know what you think!" - informs potential readers/viewers/etc you are learning and gives them an opportunity to HELP you learn. this is a positive interaction! this allows people to find a GOOD experience EVEN if they didn't enjoy the story much, because they can help, and people DO, MOSTLY, like to help.

"i want to improve at [dialogue]" or "i'd appreciate advice on [lighting]." - similar to the first example, but does 2 things: gives viewers specific instructions that can be really helpful for those that aren't sure how/what to critique (surprisingly common thing; the more specific you are about what you want advice on, the more likely you are to GET advice), AND allows you to, neutrally and non-disparagingly, ask for help in areas you don't feel confident about.

"leave a comment if you liked it!" or "let me know what you liked best!" - listen. i don't think 'fishing for compliments' is bad as long as you're not being manipulative about it. these examples are very clear in what they're asking for, which is compliments, positive reviews, etc. and that's okay!!! first of all, lots of people LOVE praising works they like, i promise, and asking them to DOES make them feel like they have "permission" to (i know that sounds silly but i also know if you have anxiety about creating, you have anxiety about commenting, i see you, i was you). secondly, i have gotten the MOST encouraging, confidence-boosting comments this way, especially with the latter example. there is NOTHING more immediately anxiety-curing than a comment that says "i liked [scene/dialogue/character/etc] specifically." it's AMAZING. (also, if you're looking for advice on commenting, this is a GREAT thing to do. imo, this and "speculating/interpreting the work" are the two coolest comments i get they make me feel AWESOME.)

remind yourself, as many times as you have to, CONSTANTLY if you have to: likes/kudos mean someone enjoyed your work enough to press a button. views mean someone liked your work enough to click through for more. these are POSITIVE interactions, they are not "less positive" than comments or reblogs/reshares. i know those last two things are more obviously gratifying, and depending on if you NEED your work to spread (for exposure/commision prospects/etc), very good, awesome ways to support you, and i don't mean to say you shouldn't WANT comments and reblogs/reshares. but for me, it's helped me a lot to recognize that any bit of effort whatsoever means someone LIKED my work. it's also helped me to think of all the times i've shared a link to an artwork in a discord or something, and know that there is an entire, untangible metric i can't and will never see that, sure, i can choose to believe doesn't exist or isn't very high, but i can ALSO choose to believe it happens quite a lot, and the latter makes me FEEL better about my work and makes me want to create MORE, so i think that's the more productive mindset personally. it doesn't matter what the truth is, you know? we'll never know it and it doesn't harm us to never know it. but it DOES harm us to assume no one quietly, unseen by us, likes our work, and it DOES ENCOURAGE US to assume lots of people do.

here's the thing: anxiety disorders fuck you up by making you believe extremely negative, scary, depressing things. the disorder gets worse the more you allow it to make you believe these things, and the only way out, as stupid and hard and at times impossible as it feels, is to say, "no, i don't like that interpretation, i'm going to replace it with a positive one." anxiety is making paths all throughout your brain, and you have to just, make paths too. anxiety needs YOU to make paths, but YOU don't need anxiety to make paths. your paths WILL be better, safer, easier and happier. you just—and i know that is the biggest "just" ever—have to make them.

but i believe in you. i don't need to know you or your circumstances to believe in you. i believe in the sheer amount of control you have over how you face the world. and it's so much more than anxiety would lead you to believe.

i looooove seeing artists & writers proud of their work!!!!! i looooove captions & authors notes that say things like “i’m quite happy with this” “i love how this turned out” “i had so much fun making this”!!!!!! i loooooove when the act of creation is joyful & we take pride in what we make!!!!!!!!!!

#yoshi talks #this is so important to me and those tags really resonated with me and reminded me of my own journey into getting to that point a lot #most of all: keep creating. and keep beating paths.#<3

16K notes · View notes

alastorthirsty · 2 days ago

Text

Alastor Hands You the Aux Cord - Alastor x f!reader

Anon asked for: Hello! Love ur work :) Alastor x f!reader fluff & heavy smut inspired by the song “soaked” by shy smith???

Honey, you got a lot more than you bargained for, and even then I¨m not quite sure that I did it correctly. Alas! I hope you enjoy it either way. So sorry this took so long, it was an undertaking.

Summary: I suck at these so just be patient and kind. Reader was a radio/sound engineer in life and begins to work with Alastor rather closely.

Dividers by @konatasoup

Warnings: Listen, we all know Alastor is a Bad Man(tm). In this story and many, many others, Fucked Up Alastor is going to say Fucked Up Things. Alastor is a sentient red flag. I would like to kindly remind you that you need to carefully decide whether or not that's too much for you before you begin to read. I'd hate it if you read and got triggered by some possessive or otherwise red flag dialogue/prose! If it’s not for you you can simply block me and avoid my other fanfiction. You're responsible for your own reading experience! If smut is not for you, this is not for you. Other warnings include briskets, sandwiches, p in v intercourse, I don't know, standard fare, Alastor is a deeply jealous and possessive man, colleagues to lovers, Alastor’s fluffy, fluffy ears are an erogenous zone I don’t care lalalalala

Words: 9521

Tell me if you want to be added to the tag list! Requests are open and the guidelines are in my pinned post! I

It would be VERY helpful for your reading experience if you listen to the provided music! If the response is good there will be a part two :)

SMUT

Masterlist

It was the sensible thing to do, and took surprisingly little effort to get him to agree. All you said was that radio lived on in your lifespan, nearly one hundred years after his death. You asked if, in life, he would have happily adjusted to innovations in radio technology, and you remember the way he looked down at his claws, all tightened into fists that slowly unfurled. He begrudgingly admitted that he would have.

“That type of microphone you’ve got there wasn’t invented until after you died,” you pointed out.

Radio had been your life’s passion in the living world just as it had been for Alastor. You began in university as a DJ, then changed your major to reflect your newfound love. You started off with communications engineering in undergraduate studies and moved on to wireless communications engineering. Twelve years of your life, you had dedicated to radio.

You were the perfect candidate, and best of all you could make yourself obsolete by teaching him what he needed to know, so it was a win all-around. Kinda. It remains to be seen what he would do with you once you became obsolete.

You did, however, strike up a friendship. Alastor would admit readily that you were a good sound engineer and constantly upgraded his equipment. He would also admit, not quite as readily, that speaking to you was pleasant. You never batted an eye while he ripped apart souls, which he found surprising at first, but when you pulled out a sandwich to eat whilst he did so it elevated to…cute. He typically hates things that are cute.

Okay, fine, you’re cute.

As time passed, you grew more comfortable with each other. Sometimes you even offer him pre-soul breaking sandwiches, and Alastor eats them simply because they were offered by you. He has no idea what a “PB&J” is, only that whoever created it must surely be living amongst you all in hell. He always eats them, though. Every last morsel.

Then something quite remarkable happened. Alastor sat you down after an unusually long broadcast, took the pistachios that you offered him, and gave you the best gift you had ever received.

“Only one,” he said, poking your chest several times. “One song of your choosing at the end of my broadcast. Do you understand?”

You remember nodding so hard it almost hurt.

You had tried not to seem too enthused, so as not to betray your true excitement to your finicky friend, but shouted joyfully into a pillow when you got to your hotel room. You rolled all over your bed, still screaming into the pillow, and spent the rest of the night curating various playlists for the post-show tunes.

The two of you became inseparable. When you weren’t on air, you were still working together on scripts, advertising campaigns, marketing strategies, even merchandising, a pencil stuck through your hair, sandwich wrappers discarded haphazardly.

‘I got my soul ripped apart by the Radio Demon and all I got was this fucking shirt’.

You’re more excited about this than him by far, but it was becoming harder and harder to deny you a thing. He’s always criticised Vox’s use of petty merchandise to belittle him, but this was different. Entirely.

It had been a rather destructive day in the radio tower the first time you played a song. There were three soul rendings today, so everything but you was covered in blood and viscera. Alastor, with a small smile, offered you his staff, and explained all you had to do was play a song on your phone while holding it.

It felt special. It almost made your cheeks warm, but that crisis was thankfully averted and you chose a tribute to radio itself as your first ever post-show track.

‘Radio, someone still loves you.’

Alastor didn’t look particularly happy with what he’d heard, but he did give you an amused little pat on the head before taking his staff and leaving the radio tower, still covered in blood.

You remember all of that fondly and take a bite of your sandwich. Alastor takes one bite of his and goes feral.

“Calm down over there,” you chastise. “It’s just pastrami.”

He swallows. “You know my feelings about brisket, darling.”

“Well, I’ll bring you more pastrami in the future, then. Maybe I’ll even make you a brisket someday.”

“Yes, you should,” he almost snaps. “And I’ll have no more ‘peanut butter’, by the way.”

“Do you like the almond butter better?” you ask, offering him another sandwich from the basket you brought with you

“…I prefer the pistachio and cashew one.”

“Okay, I’ll find more of that,” you say before passing him a napkin. You sigh and grab the clipboard set to the wayside. “No souls today.”

“Yes, I am aware,” he says.

“Isn’t that less fun for you?”

Alastor ponders over his answer for a moment. “It is more fun to murder. However, not having one or more to murder also means that no one has challenged or crossed me. That is better in the long run.”

“I can see that logic.” You nod, then go back to the clipboard. “Oh, I can’t be here on Saturday.”

His expression sours and his eyes narrow. “And why is that, darling?”

You smile at him, arms up. “I’m going to Lu Lu World!”

“What in the world is that, darling? Wait a moment.” His eyes narrow anymore. “It has nothing to do with that circus freak does it?”

You purse your lips and tilt your head, staring at him. “You’ve lost me.”

“The hell I have. I find it absolutely unacceptable that you would leave work behind in order to prance around in an amusement park.”

“I don’t plan on prancing, so we’re good,” you say. You wrinkle your nose and chuckle a little at his steadily souring expression. “Tell you what. I’ll make you that brisket.”

“Two briskets,” he’s quick to demand. “No, three. Three briskets, and I’m not sharing with the others like you made me do on Beignet Day.”

“That was never meant to be just for your enjoyment!”

“Well, it should have been!” he snaps.

You laugh again and fold your hands over the clipboard. “I will miss work on Saturday to be escorted around Lu Lu World by its namesake and you will receive three briskets at a time of your choosing. You’re in for a treat, I make the best brisket. My husband loved it.”

A pregnant silence fills the radio tower.

“I find it equally unacceptable for you to have a husband. No, no more of that,” he says finally.

“I’d like to think I’ll find love again someday!” you say, laughing.

He huffs. “Is it a date?”

“Is what a date?”

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Your petty little outing to the amusement park with the circus freak!”

“He’s the King of Hell, not a circus freak!” you exclaim.

“If he doesn’t want to be called a circus freak he should dress like an adult male,” he says.

At that, you sit up straight, arms folded, and stare at him. “Do you really want to go there? Making fun of how he dresses?”

“My manner of dress is unimpeachable! Everything is just so!” Alastor gestures at his suit, then narrows his eyes again. “You will not marry him.”

“Marriage isn’t on the table, I’m just visiting his park with him. It’s closed for the day, no one but us! Oh, but also you can’t tell me who I can and can’t marry,” you say.

“There will be no marriages at all! We have work to do, important work!” He closes his eyes, touches his forehead, and growls. “Do not sass me.”

You take another bite out of your sandwich. “So I won’t be here Saturday.”

“…Fine. I can go back to the Stone Age for one damn day.”

You groan. “I’m glad no one else knows of your flair for the dramatic.”

“And you’d do well to keep it that way,” he says. He holds up three fingers. “Three briskets. I want them all at once.”

“I don’t have the time to do them today, as you said, we have important-ish work to do,” you say.

He eyes you again. “Three. Briskets.”

You throw your hands up. “Fine! I hope you get a tummy ache!”

“I will not! I will enjoy the briskets and be fine!” Alastor adjusts his butterfly tie and stands up from his chair. “And you will make up for lost time from your Saturday outing.”

“No I won’t,” you say. “I’m under no such obligation to work every single day with no breaks. I just haven’t had anything better to do in a while.”

Alastor’s hand smacks against a panel. “No! You’re to work with me every day, that is the arrangement! Good god, woman, you are so insolent today. All of hell listens to these broadcasts. I do not know how to do what you do. You have made yourself necessary and now you want to cut and run so you can have intercourse with that circus freak in a hall of mirrors.”

You tilt your head back and laugh.

He looks unamused by this. “What? What is it? Why are you laughing?”

“I suppose I’d better fuck him in the hall of mirrors, then, if you think the opportunity presents itself.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and put everything else in the garbage for Niffty to collect.

Alastor’s ears flatten. “I do not like you today.”

“Nah, you adore me.” You look closer at the agenda for today and begin warming up the necessary equipment. You pull on your headphones “Thirty seconds, Al.”

He nods and repeats it back to you. “Thirty seconds, Al.”

By the end of the show, you’ve already got your topical track selection queued up. Alastor stands up and stretches before giving the staff to you and rifling around for more sandwiches in the basket.

‘They come running just as fast as they can ‘cause every girl crazy bout a sharp-dressed man’

You lip sync along, not realising you’re being watched. Alastor smiles to himself and waits for his staff to be given back to him. When it is, he almost remarks about your Saturday outing. Almost.

In your bedroom, you stretch and yawn. It’s late and you need to be with Alastor relatively early, so you go about your nightly routine. Brushed teeth, silky pyjamas, all lotioned up, feeling amazing. That is, until you walk back to the area with the bed. You scream and jump, but your surprise is quickly replaced by anger. Alastor laughs from his comfy position against your pillows.

He points at you. “You are the chicken in this relationship.”

You get in beside him and try to shove him out of the bed, chuckling as he easily resisted. “What are you doing in here?”

He’s still laughing. “I came to collect you! Emergency broadcast.”

You groan loudly. “Absolutely fucking not!”

“Yes!” He wraps an arm around you and drags you up from the bed. “It won’t take too long.”

“Who the hell pissed you off this much that you have to do this right now, at two in the morning?” you asked.

The answer makes your stomach drop.

“Husker!” he says excitedly.

You flail. “No. No! No, Alastor, you can’t do that!”

“I assure you that I can,” he says, now picking you up and carrying you towards the radio tower. “Husker’s soul is mine to do what I want with it, and he knew that before he started making trouble tonight.”

“Alastor!” you shout. “Put me down!”

He looks confused, but carefully sets you down. There are tears on your face that confound him. “What is the matter, my dear?”

“You can’t kill Husk.” You wipe your eyes and sniffle. “You can’t. I know you can in the literal sense of the word. I know that you can, but you can’t, please, I am begging you not to do this. Please, Alastor.”

“Do not mourn for him,” Alastor says. “No one mourned him in life.”

“I think that’s not true,” you say, but take his hands, squeezing them. “Just, just tell me what he did. I’ll fix it. I swear, I’ll fix it.”

Alastor looks down at your hands, so much smaller than his, trying to calm him down. “You really care, hm?”

“Alastor, please, please,” you whisper, squeezing his hands again. “Alastor, don’t do it. I have never asked you for a thing and I never will again if you just please don’t do this. Please don’t kill him, he’s my friend. He’s a soul in the bank for you, but he’s my friend.”

He’s quiet for a very long time, watching your breakdown. You know how it looks. He hates weakness, he hates vulnerability—

Alastor puts his hand on the side of your face and pushes hair away. “Okay, darling. If you want Husker to keep dusting bottles and consuming their entire contents, then that you shall have.”

You feel embarrassed all of a sudden and wipe your eyes. “How about I make you a brisket instead?”

“No brisket is required,” he says. “If you want it then you will have it. I am a man of my word. I will find other means to discipline Husker.”

“Don’t hurt Angel,” you say immediately. “Please. They’re all afraid of you already, you don’t have to do anything to keep them in line. I don’t know what Husk did, but I don’t believe it warrants his death and it definitely doesn’t mean you can do something bad to the only thing he loves more than booze or gambling.”

“Okay,” Alastor agrees.

You blink. “I know it’s not that simple. What do you want?”

“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?” he asks.

“Me? Personally?” You think for a moment before shaking your head. “No. But—“

“I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me,” Alastor says. “I have worked with you closely for months now. I do what I say I will do. If you want that damned cat and his spider to live and be unharmed then I will give you that.”

“What do you want in exchange? Don’t say my soul, I’m not giving it.”

“No, not your soul,” he says. “A simple deal.”

You stand up straighter. “A deal? What?”

“I let Husker and the spider go unharmed and you will in exchange never have intercourse with the circus freak.”

Your arms cross. “Alastor, that’s fucked up.”

“I know!” he says warmly.

After a moment, you reach your hand out towards him. He takes it in his and squeezes it, gentle and warm. You’ve seen his power, the green flashes of light.

But there are no green lights. His tentacles remain hidden. The floor doesn’t shake.

It wasn’t a real deal, but you said nothing about that. This was all very strange, and you didn’t know what to make of it. Taking his hand, you give it a pull.

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s go on air anyway. Come.”

He tuts at you. “Rather bossy tonight, my dear.”

“I’ll make sandwiches,” you offer, and he nods.

“Yes, you will make sandwiches—pastrami.”

‘I am just living to be lying by your side but I'm just about a moonlight mile on down the road’

Once Alastor takes the staff from you, he notices that you’ve fallen asleep in your chair. He rides the dark with you in his arms, depositing you safely into your bed.

The next night, for some reason, Husk makes sure your dirty martinis come with two olives and no complaints.

“You will go away from the hotel.”

You look up from your phone, your feet up on one of the panels you’ve been working on. “Excuse me?”

Alastor is stern, serious. His eyes betray no laughter, not a single joke. “You will leave the hotel.”

“No,” you say immediately.

“The Extermination is exactly one week from now, and you will leave the hotel. You will go someplace safe.”

“No,” you say again. “No, hell no, I’m not leaving you all by yourselves.”

“You would be more of a hindrance than help,” Alastor says, and ooph, that one hurt.

“You don’t even know how to defend yourself,” he continues.

“I’ve been doing my best,” you say.

“And that is not good enough, darling.”

Your chest falls and rises. “So you think I have nothing to offer to protect my friends and this hotel?”

Alastor pauses for a moment. “No. I know for a fact that you do.”

“Then what?” you ask. “Why do you want me to leave?”

Again, a few moments pass in silence before Alastor sits beside you. “You would trade something very precious to save this hotel and all of the fools who reside in it.”

”What? What is it? What am I going to give up that’s so special?”

“Your life,” he says. “If you are here, you will sacrifice your life in a trice just as soon as you see someone else is in danger. And I cannot have that. You will leave, this is not a request.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head. “No. This is my home. This is where I work. This is my family—“

“You will listen to me now and you will listen good,” he says gravely. “I can protect this hotel and kill Adam or I can protect you. Those are the choices. I trust you will not make the selfish one.”

You close your eyes and let out a deep breath. You feel a cry coming on, but head it off at the pass. “What about you?”

“What about me, darling?” Alastor asks. “There is no way for you to help me. You know that.”

“I’m going to look like a coward,” you say.

“I do not care,” he says. “And you shouldn’t either. My priorities are to kill Adam and to protect you. Therefore, you will leave to someplace safe and you will wait for me to come for you.”

You scoff. “Where’s safe? Where’s safe during an Extermination?”

“They are coming to the hotel first and we will not allow them to go any further. You will be safe where I send you and you will stay there.”

Then he does something he’s never done before. Alastor pulls you into his embrace. “You have no idea what I would do to save you. No idea, you stupid, silly girl. You must go. You must.”

“Okay, okay,” you say finally.

“I could give or take almost anyone else in this boring little hovel of a hotel, but I can’t give you. I won’t. It’s very likely this radio tower will need some manner of repair. Who else would do it but you?” He holds you a little tighter.

You close your eyes and lean against him. “I really don’t want to leave you.”

“Because you are an idiot.”

At that, you start hitting him anywhere you can, but the two of you dissolve into laughter.

Eventually, you sigh. “When am I leaving?”

Alastor hums. “Tonight.”

“What?” you look at him again. “Why tonight?”

“I will have time to prepare. I won’t spend days worrying about getting you to leave. It is better that I have this time to focus,” he says. “I will take care of everything. Think of it as more of a vacation than anything else.”

“I won’t, but thank you,” you say. “What will you tell everyone?”

Alastor tilts his head. “About what?”

“About forcing me to leave the hotel because I’m apparently too weak and stupid to fight for it,” you say.

He tsks and shakes his head. “I do not care. Neither should you. But I suppose I will just tell them approximately one-quarter of the truth.”

“Which is what?” you ask.

“That I put my foot down and wouldn’t allow you to die for any of them.” Alastor rubs his face against yours. A confusing gesture, but not altogether out of place, given the tenor of the rest of the interaction.

“I don’t want to die, but—“

“But nothing,” he says. He gives you his staff. “Play one last song.”

You wince. “Okay, grim. No. I’m not playing a ‘last song’.”

He huffs. “The last song until next week, when all of this is over.”

“When all of this is over…” You lean back in your seat, tapping the staff as you think. “Can you…can we hop on the broadcast? For a while? Make it my last proper show until all of this is over?”

You swallow, your throat feeling tight.

“No, darling,” he says. “Not this time. Pick a good song.”

‘Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me! Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!’

Alastor stares at you strangely throughout the entire song. He never once tries to take the staff away from you, not even during the repeated profanity—something that was forbidden. He says nothing of it when the song is done and he takes his staff back into his possession.

“Come.” He holds his arm out for you and you take it. You let him lead you out of the radio tower and you become unsettled as you descend the steps.

“Alastor, I don’t like this,” you say nervously.

“And neither do I,” he says as he guides you to your hotel room.

“Where are you sending me?”

He suddenly stops you once you’re inside the room, his clawed hand coming down to grip your shoulder. Hard.

“Alastor,” you chastise.

His grip only tightens. “I made a bargain for this and you will not piss it away.”

The night crashes down on you in the quiet of your bedroom.

“But where? You made a deal?”

“No, not a deal. More of a…trade which does not benefit me at all, save for it keeping you safe.”

“Alastor, where?” you ask, softly yet firmly.

“In an underground bunker beneath Rosie’s Emporium,” Alastor says finally. “No one would ever think to look there, not with all of Cannibal Town at the hotel, stupidly giving their own lives. Those lives mean nothing to me, nothing at all, but yours is something precious.”

“I’m just your engineer, you know.”

Alastor huffs. “No, you’re not.”

You lift a brow. “I’m not?”

“No.” He pauses. “You also make sandwiches.”

With a little laugh, you nod. “Pastrami.”

“Indeed. Pastrami. Now, pack up, darling. I’ll escort you to Cannibal Town. No, no one will try to eat you. You’ll be with my dearest friend, Rosie. You will be safe with her. If I had any doubts I would send you elsewhere.”

“Okay,” you say softly. “It’s going to be boring without you.”

“I, on the other hand, will finally know peace after six months.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”

You laugh far too hard for it to be so late at night, but Alastor is smiling genuinely.

For a tenth of a second something changes. The way you look at each other…

“So,” he says, sitting at the foot of your bed, one ankle over his knee. “Have you been abiding by our agreement?”

You pull a suitcase from underneath the bed. “Which one? There are new ‘agreements’ every day.”

“Intercourse with Lucifer,” he says flatly.

“Oh Alastor, come on. What if he and I were in love?”

He just glares at you, darkness in his eyes.

“I haven’t seen the man in weeks!”

“Aha!” He points at you. “You would do it if given the chance, wouldn’t you?”

You tilt your head. “Why do you care so much, Al?”

“Because I want to separate him from all possible joy,” he says. “There’s no chance of doing that with Charlie, but I will deny him you.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“Shut up and pack.”

“Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me.”

Alastor picks up one of your pillows and throws it at you.

The extended visit with Rosie would be nice if every moment didn’t bring you anxiety so crippling that it cramped your stomach. She was kind, a gracious hostess, and she didn’t ask any prying questions, so neither did you. You were curious about the ‘trade’ Alastor had made for you—for you…

You leave every day for food, because you just cannot trust the provenance of anything in Cannibal Town, no matter how kind Rosie is. You listen to Alastor’s sporadic broadcasts and feel vindicated in how shitty it is without you. Gives you a smile. It sustains you to know that this man still needs you.

On your third day of going out for burritos, you receive a text message that makes you grin, fills you with joy you haven’t felt since you were yeeted from the hotel.

‘New ducks, want to see?’

The second you text back yes, a glowing portal opens and a hand yanks you inside.

“Lucifer!” you cry out happily, hugging him close.

He returns the embrace readily, arms tight around you. “I’m so glad you agreed! Here, let me show you the duck workshop.”

You smile and let him guide you. You and Lucifer just..mesh. It’s always been easier to talk to him than virtually anyone else. For as much as you listen to him about ducks, he listens to you about radio, as long as you don’t mention Alastor. That’s always been an unspoken understanding.

Lucifer rambles happily all the way to the workshop and you happily listen. Once inside, he gives you a little tour. The place is quite literally filled with rubber ducks of all different kinds—there was even a set of KISS ducks.

“This is my latest work,” Lucifer says, showing you a row of little ducks. He picks up one. “This one has wings just like mine! Well, you can’t currently see my wings, but that’s what they look like. There’s six, they’re red, that’s…pretty much it…”

He sounds strangely nervous.

“And this one’s Charlie…”

Yes, nervous.

“Maggie,” he says.

“Actually, her name is Vaggie,” you correct him.

“Oh, golly!” He covers his eyes with his hands, his face turning red. “I’ve been calling her Maggie every time and Charlie never corrected me.”

You chuckle softly. “It’s fine, I’m sure it’s fine. Don’t worry about that.”

He peeks at you from between his fingers. “You really think it’s okay?”

“Charlie probably just felt too awkward to correct you. You know how she is.”

“I hope so,” Lucifer says. “This one is the porn star. He shoots webs!”

You laugh when he demonstrates. “That’s so cool!”

“And this one,” he picks up one of the ducks gingerly, “this one is you!”

You gasp at the attention to detail and laugh joyfully. “That’s so cute, a little me!”

“She has a little radio and everything. And—“ Lucifer presses a button on the underside of the duck and the radio starts to play from its mouth. He looks at you with a wide grin and elbows you gently a few times. “Ah? Ah?”

You laugh again and clap. “Bravo, you outdid yourself. I never thought you would outdo the back-flipping rubber ducky that spits fire.”

“I surprise myself all the time,” Lucifer says happily, placing your duck back down beside his. “Do you have time for a drink?”

You laugh. “Honey, I’ve got nothing but time.”

“Good!” He takes your hand and guides you out of the workshop and through the halls until you arrive at a lavish lounge. He gestures for you to take a seat. “What’ll you have?”

“Oh, whatever you’re having, please.”

Lucifer pours two whiskeys and sits in the chair across from yours beside a fire that emits a cool breeze.

“Thank you so much,” you say when he hands yours to you.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “Charlie told me…you left the hotel.”

You take a deep breath. “Yes, I did. I’ve been staying in Cannibal Town.”

“Why did you go?” he asks softly.

Now you sigh, hoping to keep all emotion from your voice. “Alastor thinks I’m more of a hindrance than a help and wants me to stay away.”

His diamond pupils constrict. “What an asshole.”

“He needs me to help repair the radio tower, when all is said and done.”

“You’re too good for this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

Lucifer takes a drink. “I mean you’re too good to work on a show that’s just screams and crappy puns. That guy is a clown. You should host your own show.”

“Oh, I haven’t been on air in like…fourteen years. I don’t even know what I would talk about or play. I like being an engineer. It’s cathartic to me. Alastor might not have the most exciting show around, and he’s absolutely horrible, but it’s…hm, I’ve made it sound really bad, haven’t I?”

“Why do you give that guy your loyalty? Why do you feel so beholden to him?” he asks.

Your focus softens. “I…we have a good time together. I think. He likes the sandwiches that I make him.”

“I can almost guarantee that this loyalty means nothing to him,” Lucifer says. “I’m not saying that to hurt you.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I know Luci.”

“Why do you stay, then? Is he paying you?”

“Actually yeah, in a way he does.”

Lucifer cocks a brow and motions for you to continue.

“Oh, he just gives me things, not money. He doesn’t, uh, properly believe that hell should have a currency system. In his opinion it should all be bartering, like soul deals. Therefore, he barters with me. I give him sandwiches and briskets and engineering services, he gives me…just about anything. Last week he gave me a ruby necklace that must be worth a few thousand dollars.”

“You give him briskets?”

You nod. “Oh yeah, there’s always some brisket action going on. He doesn’t know it yet, but there’s a venison brisket in the works.”

“So you work together, you make him food, he gives you expensive jewellery?”

“Other things too, but yes.” You nod again. “That’s the gist. We have a good back-and-forth, but my favourite is getting to play music at the end of his broadcasts.”

Lucifer smiles softly at you. “Those are the only parts worth tuning in for.”

Your face lights up., a big grin and bright eyes. “You’ve heard?”

He nods. “Yeah. I try to catch it. The last one said fuck a lot.”

You laugh, head back against the chair. “Yeah, it did.”

“I’ll give you a radio station of your own. Be his competition,” he said.

Now you sigh. “I actually do like to work with him a lot. He’s…he’s not all bad. He’s always done right by me.”

Lucifer scoffs. “That won’t last. You can’t seriously rely on that to stay stable. Just as soon as he decides he doesn’t need you, he’ll get rid of you. Somehow or another. He’s just…one of the worst sorts of sinners, and he’s proud to be the way that he is. And you? You’re hardly like a sinner at all. I always seem to forget it.”

It’s hard to hear those things about Alastor, even harder because you know they’re probably in some way true.

You’re lost in thought until you hear him repeating your name. “Oh! So sorry, million miles away.”

“Let me get you another drink. Do you want something other than whiskey, maybe?” he asks, sounding somewhat insecure, a little tremor in his voice. “W-what do you normally take?”

You play with a rubber duck on the table and hope it doesn’t spit fire at you. “Dirty martini, two olives. Sounds weird, giving the king of hell a drink order.”

“Nonsense!” Lucifer comes over with a little drink tray, all cheerful. Sweet. He looks so happy that it warms you.

“I should see you more,” you say. “You’re fun to be around and I love ducks.”

He gives a nervous laugh and sits down, passes your drink to you. “You should definitely see me more! Gosh, that would be terrific. I can make you so many ducks!”

“What are you going to work on next?” you ask.

He winks. “I’ll keep you apprised.”

You wink back, smiling. “I’ll be waiting.”

God, there was nothing you wouldn’t give to be on air with Alastor right now. It hits you, causes a slight tremor in your body.

Lucifer gasps. “Are you okay? Is it the drink? I don’t actually know what a dirty martini is so I…May have poisoned you?”

“No! No!” You laugh and shake your head. “No, the drink is fine. To make a martini dirty you just put a bit of olive brine in.”

“Let me try again,” he says, but you stand and stop him.

“Luci, no, really, it’s okay,” you say. “Promise. See?” You drain the contents of the wine glass he had served the ‘martini’ in. Your lower eyelid gives you away, though.

“Oh God,” Lucifer says, hand covering his eyes.

You pull it away gently. “It’s okay, Luci.”

You stay that way, eyes on each other, for a moment that stretches indefinitely.

By the end of it, Lucifer kisses you. Hesitant, gentle. His hand reaches the back of your neck and by now you’re kissing back. Things are happening quickly. Somehow you wind up on one of the couches together, your back to the cushion, him on top of you…

Oh, no.

You break the kiss and sit up. “Sorry. Sorry, Luci. Sorry.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks in rushed voice, a slight shake to it.

“No.” You rub your eyes and smack your forehead.

All you could think of was Alastor. The little promise you made in exchange for Husk’s life. You doubted that he would actually kill Husk if he found out…but you couldn’t handle how…he would react.

“Lucifer, I…” But you couldn’t tell him that Alastor was the one keeping him from getting laid.

“I don’t understand,” Lucifer says. “I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say softly, squeezing his hand. “I can’t help but notice you’re still wearing your ring.”

“Oh, is that why…? Oh, no, sweetheart, no, I just…Lilith isn’t going to come back to me. I can take it off, it’s just hard to when it’s been…such a long time, being married. I can take it off, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

You squeeze his hand again, gently. “It’s time for me to leave.”

“Oh…Okay,” he says softly. “Yes, of course. You don’t have to stay, just…I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

You smile at him, trying your best to instill confidence. “You’ll see me again. Show me to the door?”

“No, absolutely not,” he says. “It’s dangerous! I’ll take you back to Cannibal Town. That’s also…pretty dangerous, you know.”

“Not for me.” That you can say with confidence of your own.

“Come on.” Lucifer reaches for your hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do it again. Just take my hand and I’ll bring you back. You don’t even know where you are right now.”

Well, he’s got you beat there. You squeeze his hand one more time. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You close your eyes for this part.

When you hear a whispered goodbye, you open your eyes and you’re standing before the Cannibal Town gates, alone.

“Do you think that you walk freely all throughout hell, not a care in the world, for no reason?”

Your whole body tightens at the sound of his voice. “Have you just been standing there waiting for me to show up?”

“Not quite,” Alastor says. “Answer my question.”

You sigh, eyes rolling hard. “I’m sure it’s because of you.”

“Correct! So you’re at least that smart.”

You trudge out a path set to finally get you the illusive burrito. “Alastor, I’m not in the mood. I’m hungry, I’m tired, and my absence is definitely noticed at the hotel.”

He appears in front of you. “And how do you know that? Who told you, hm?”

You sigh. “You know who I was with?”

Alastor’s claws grab your arm and then you’re in the radio tower. It nearly knocks the breath out of you and you collide with one of the panels.

“God!” You wince as your knee crashes against a sharp corner. “Hey asshole, I thought I wasn’t allowed to be here! I am so sick of being yanked around today! All I wanted—“

“I ask so little of you,” he interrupts.

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious? You? Ask me? For little?”

“The only commitment I have ever asked of you is not to have sex with that fucking man!”

“And I didn’t!” you shout before pulling out your phone. “Here, see? He just wanted to show me new rubber ducks that he made. And you know what? Mine was adorable, and she played radio when you pressed her button.”

“Am I supposed to understand this innuendo?” he asks, his voice rising.

“I didn’t sleep with him, Alastor! I don’t know what else you want me to say! I almost did, I would have, and it’s all your fucking fault that I didn’t. Someone expressed interest in me and I couldn’t act on it because I made some fake pact with you over it. I should have, God knows I need it.”

“Oh do you?” Alastor steps closer, but you don’t back down.

“Yes!” you yell. “Yes I do, but the only fucking thing I ever do is go on the goddamn radio with you!”

“Such a horrible fate!”

You cover your face with curling fingers. “Take me back to Rosie’s. Take me back to Rosie’s, Alastor. You don’t want me here, remember?”

“Of course I want you here, you fucking imbecile!”

Your anger ebbs slightly. “You do?”

“Yes! I want all of the things you do and I want them all the time! I tried to make my own sandwiches and everything! I was self-sufficient before you, you know. I never needed anyone for anything, then you walked into this hotel and insisted your way into my life, wrecking it up as you went!” Alastor takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself, trying to calm himself. “So now that I need you and go to great pains to keep you safe, you tell me that you want to sleep with that little blond gremlin?”

“How were the sandwiches?”

“Dry and uninteresting!” Alastor grabs you by your arms. “God damn you!”

“What? What?” you yell. “What do you want, Alastor? As far as I can tell, you got me out of the hotel, out of your way, right where you wanted me to be. I was going out for a fucking burrito because I can’t trust the food in Cannibal Town!”

“I advised Rosie very carefully about your dietary preferences,” he says.

“Well, hell, thanks,” you say in a much quieter tone. After a moment, you go sit in your usual spot. “Why did you bring me here, Alastor? My name must be mud around here.”

“No, it isn’t.” Alastor sits across from you. “They just blame me, and that is fine.”

“I really think you two should put all this behind you,” you say.

“The two of us? We won’t be putting anything behind us, darling.”

“Actually!” You point at him. “I was talking about you and him. The guy you call a circus freak, a blond gremlin.”

“Ha! No. Try again, dearest.”

You just roll your eyes and rub your temples. “I’m seriously so hungry and so tired. What do you want to hear?”

“I—.” Alastor cuts himself off. “You. And I…it’s your fault, all of this is your fault!”

“Okay! Fine! It’s my fault. Now what do you want to do?” you ask.

Alastor jerks you up from your seat and kisses you, hard. You feel his fingertips fan over the tops of your shoulders, drumming once before holding tight.

It’s so absolutely stunning that it takes a moment to respond at all, but that doesn’t seem to slow him down. Your heart beats so hard in your chest that you can almost hear it, and, oh, damn, this is what had been missing, fulfilling a craving that you had never known. This was what blood was for, what hands were for, why breath existed.

His hands move lower down your body as the quick seconds pass like butterflies all down your skin and to your bones.

You pull away just to catch a breath and his whole body tenses.

“What?” you ask, panting.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

You shake your head. “No, Al, not even a little bit. Just couldn’t breathe, blood’s all rushing.”

Alastor’s fingertips trail deliciously above your belly. “Do you know what I want?”

You swallow, lips pressing together. “Tell me.”

His thumb traces down your throat now. “I want to possess you so completely that you forget all but my name.”

His lips follow the path of his hands, surprisingly soft and warm against your neck. “Everything about you was made for me. Everything. I am never letting you go, do you understand me?” His tone was gravely serious, but with an undercurrent of…love. Yes, it was love, yearning and…maybe a bit of uncertainty. He could not hide that, not from you.

“Let’s go to my room,” you say quietly when he pulls away, and in an instant you’re there. Everything looks the same, thankfully. You go to the bed and sit at the foot of it, leaning back on your elbows.

Alastor comes and stands before you, just looking down, watching. When he finally moves, it’s to put both hands underneath your shirt and push it up, every bit of skin revealed covered in goosebumps. He slowly pushes the shirt up and up until your arms lift and it comes over your head.

“Why are you choosing to do this now?” you ask as he works on your bra.

“Because you said that you needed it and I take your needs very seriously,” he responds.

“Whoa.” You grab at my hands. “No, it’s not just me, you have to be into it too.”

Alastor laughs suddenly. “How about I show you how ‘into it’ I am? Kind of you to make certain, darling.”

“I don’t ever want to make you feel like you have to, because you’re…”

He plays with one of your exposed breasts thoughtfully. “You are kind for that, too. Perfect, really. Darling, I do whatever feels good, in all things that I do. This is good, I have simply never felt that way before you and your goddamn radio expertise and your fucking sandwiches and, oh, the briskets.”

Alastor sighs and moves on to the other one. “I have never wanted this before, and that is meaningful to me. It isn’t all I want, but I want you in all other ways so much that it makes me crave you. My hands on your body, your hands on mine. I’ve waited long enough to know that I am certain. Are you?”

“You are a discovery,” you say. “You unlocked things I didn’t realise were there. I want you badly.”

“It’s not just what the spider calls ‘general horniness’?”

You pull him down and kiss him several times before responding. “No, it isn’t. If it wasn’t specific to you, I could just as well bedded Luci. I had every opportunity earlier tonight. But I was always going to turn him down. I did so because I thought of how disappointed and angry you would have been.”

“You’re goddamn right I would have been,” he says as he climbs over you. “So perfect, just for me…”

You like the weight of him on top of you. He’s careful not to squish you, but it feels so warm and solid. There’s a shiver up your spine as he touches you, as this coat and shirt brush against your breasts. You go to card your fingers through his hair and accidentally brush against the base of one of his ears and you can see the physical reaction, the little tremors of pleasure, the moan of an ecstasy promised.

“Okay?” you ask gently, doing it again.

Alastor nods quickly. “Yes, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

You played with his ear while his tongue, lips, and teeth made their way across your throat and neck. The higher you went, the more aggressive he got, leaving little nips and bites everywhere.

You push him when you decide more clothes have to come off—his in particular. He looks confused for a half-second before you’re carefully removing his coat. You place it carefully on a chair near the bed, but almost rip the shirt off of him.

He gives a little huff of laughter. “Eager, are we darling?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you say, hauling him in to kiss him again.

You love the feeling of your bare chests pressed together. Alastor’s breathing starts to come more quickly than before.

It’s you going after his neck, this time. You can hear something strangled in his throat, the vibrations of it against your lips. “You don’t have to hide anything from me.”

“Forgive me, darling. I am new to this.”

“Is it the very first time?”

He hums. “Technically no. Once, when I was a teenager, a very long time ago. I barely remember it at all, but I know it was nothing like this.”

You smile against his neck and nuzzle softly. “Doesn’t matter, you’ll know what to do.”

“I have every confidence in us both. We know each other on a professional and emotional level of intimacy, I doubt physical intimacy will be the thing that does us in.”

“It may be a bit early days, but I hope nothing ever does,” you say.

He cradles the back of your head to keep your lips close to his neck. He huffs. “Early days, my ass. If I was not sure about you I would not have started anything. If any part of you is unsure, I will make it sure. I promise that I won’t be a regret.”

You kiss your way down the side of his neck. “Lucifer would have been a regret. You will not be.”

He huffs. “As gratifying as that is to hear, please do not mention the circus freak during physical intimacy ever again. Or ever again in general, if possible.”

You laugh softly and hold him close. “I’ll never mention him in this context ever again, I promise.”

“I am much obliged, my love.” Alastor tugs at the jeans you’re wearing, but, having no experience with such garments, he doesn’t seem to realise they have to be unzipped first.

You reach between your bodies to help him out.

“Such complicated garments,” he says beneath his breath.

“No more complicated than yours! Your trousers unzip too, don’t they?” you ask.

“It is called a double standard, darling, and as per usual, unfortunately for you, it works out in my favour.” Alastor gets you down to your underwear and plays with the elastic waistband. “I would like to make something abundantly clear to you, darling. I will give you this one last chance.”

“For what?” you ask, kissing down his neck, the tip of his ear between your fingers. You feel it twitch.

“No, no, stop that for a moment, darling,” he says, so you do. When you’ve stopped and he’s got you looking at him again, he continues. “For just a moment, while you listen to this. I am telling you right now that you are reaching the point of no return. Once I have taken you, you will belong to me for eternity. That is not a hyperbole, it is reality. I will never allow you to leave me. Along with that promise, I promise to keep you safe, always, just as I am now, even if it means temporarily being away from me. I promise to love you. I promise you will want for nothing; everything that is in my power to give you, which is exhaustive and far-reaching, any little want or need you have, I will give it to you.”

You smile at him. “I don’t have as much to offer, but I’ll be the best damn radio engineer, the best damn brisket-maker, the best damn friend, and the best damn…”

“Mate,” he supplies.

“The best damn mate, I’ll be that,” you promise.

“You accept?” Alastor asks, and when you nod, he kisses you hard. “You are perfect. So good. And you understand? Completely? You have no doubts? Because there will be no other appropriate time to feel them. This is a permanent arrangement that you should not take lightly.”

“Trying to talk me out of it?”

“Trying not to be a regret,” he says, and it makes your expression warm.

“You aren’t and you won’t be,” you promise. “You were the answer to all the questions I didn’t know I was asking of myself from the moment I met you. I didn’t know, but it was always there, and now, like…I don’t know how to describe it. There’s not a lot of blood flowing to my brain, you know.”

He chuckles once and nods. “Then I will not ask you again. It is settled now, is it?”

“It is.”

“Good.” Alastor hooks his thumb into the elastic of your underwear indelicately and pulls them down and off your body.

You don’t even know how many naked people Alastor has seen. It’s possible he hasn’t seen another person naked since the first time with someone, so many years ago. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing, though.

“Well, now that the matter is settled.” Alastor lifts you up and places your head on a pillow. “There is something I have wanted to do since I met you. It was a strange craving, something that should have warned me of what was to come.”

“What’s the strange craving?” you ask, but rather than answer verbally he rolls his tongue between your leg, right against your clit, and you moan rather loudly with surprise.

Alastor laughs quietly to himself. “Enjoying yourself, darling?”

“Ohhhh God,” was all you could manage.

He licks your clit again before his tongue dips inside you, and when it does, Alastor elongates it—this shocks you, causes a gasp and a full-body shiver. You never thought such a thing was possible, and it’s certainly…a new experience. He rubs at your clit with his thumb while his tongue works inside you. He keeps your legs apart with his broad shoulders, tongue massaging against your walls until he reaches a spot that makes you scream. He laughs softly against your flesh and you’re panting now.

“Alastor…” Your legs tense up around him, muscles straining. He’s moaning against you as he works your body like he owns it, and maybe he does now. Your thighs tense around him and you…you’re getting louder.

“Is there something you can do about the noise?” you ask, even though you hate stopping him.

He keeps rubbing your clit while he speaks. “I can. But I will not. Louder.”

Alastor goes right back to it, his tongue working you hard, and he forces you to get louder just from the way his tongue moves against your walls.

“Oh, fuck…Oh, Al, don’t stop, please don’t stop…yeah…yeah, like that, like that…” Your breath comes in harder and harder, faster and faster, until you’re screaming, until your thighs are aching, until your pussy is so overstimulated that he pulls back with an enormous grin on his face.

He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, but mercifully only briefly. “Tell me when I can take you.”

“Just a moment,” you pant. “Not a long wait, just a few minutes.”

“Very good,” Alastor says. “I’ll take other pleasure from other parts of your body in the meantime then, darling.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You do that, Al. Fucking hell.”

His tongue swirls along your nipple. “Yes darling?”

“You really took that one from the soul,” you say with a soft, shaky laugh. You nudge his shoulder. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“You’re sure?”

You nod a few times. “Yeah, yeah. Ready to go.”

You press your back down against the blankets, your head flat against the pillow. Alastor kneels between your knees and shoves them far apart, making plenty of room for himself. You’re silently grateful that he still seems to know exactly what to do—you’d gladly teach him if you had to, but it was so much better this way. He takes himself in hand and rubs the head of his cock from your clit and down, watches your muscles involuntarily jump slightly, a wide smirk on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his shadow cast upon the wall, the elongated horns, that starving grin.

“I see you’ve noticed him,” Alastor says, entering you all at once. “Keep your eyes on me, dear. Pay him no mind.”

“You consider him separate from you?” you ask, your body adjusting to the size of him easily.

Alastor, however, does not seem to be having such an easy go of things. There is a look of concentration on his face, his lip between his teeth. It takes a moment for him to reply. “I consider him an echo of me. I’ll warn you now, I do not know how conversational I will be from this point on.”

“All the same,” you wink at him. “It’s not your conversation I’m after at the moment.”

It takes almost no time at all to get loud for him again, but this time it wasn’t just you being pleasured. This was a new world for Alastor and he was lost in it, captive to it. His hands grip at your hips as he fucks you harder and harder, the mattress shaking beneath you. Soon the headboard smacks against the wall and you thank God there’s no one on the other side.

“Al!” You hook one knee around his waist. “Al, please, deeper.”

He grabs your other knee and pulls it around him so he can get a better angle. He moves to whisper in your ear. “You feel so soft inside, like velvet. So warm, so hot…like that little pop of heat when you stand with your back to a fireplace…”

You moan loudly, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter around him, the sound slick and obscene. You can hear him curse, how his hips snap faster and faster until he finally spills his seed in you, fucking you through it.

Alastor’s damp forehead connects with your shoulder and you can feel his breath coming harsh against it. His hands soften their hard grip on your thighs and fall away, moving up to your waist, your ribs, one thumb against your nipple.

You play with his hair, with one of his ears, but it doesn’t seem to rile him up again, which was good, because you didn’t want to be told to stop. You turn your head against his and kiss his hair.

“Okay?” you ask after a while.

Upon hearing your voice, he lifts his head and then himself off of you. He crashes on his back beside you, his arm coming up around you, pulling you to him.

“I am so…so grateful that it was you,” he says. “I am grateful to have you. Forever. You and I will create a home next week, here at the hotel. It is well within my power to do. It can be any way you like. You should jot down ideas while you’re at Rosie’s.”

You groan. “I have to go back to Rosie’s, don’t I?”

“Yes, my lovely,” he says. “You will still reside at Rosie’s for the duration of this week until the Extermination is through and we are free to do as we please. We do not have to go straight back into radio. Maybe…we take some time to ourselves. It will be well-earned.”

“You’re going to need a break in general,” you say, pushing sweat-slicked hair out of his eyes. “You’re doing so much for all of us. I can’t believe you’re going to kill Adam.”

“Believe it, my love,” he says softly. “Believe me. This is our future.”

“I do believe you. I trust you,” you say. “And I’m sorry for being so bratty about being sent away. I am effectively useless in any type of fight scenario. I would hold everyone back.”

“You would sacrifice yourself too easily. I never said those things to hurt you, I said them because I feared what would happen to you.”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagines #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor smut #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel imagines

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postracehair · 2 days ago

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altitude

max verstappen x reader | 1.5k

you hate flying. but it's a necessity if you want to see max during the f1 season. when you finally fly home together during a break, will you let him help calm you down?

cw: r hates flying, anxiety, kissing, like, lots of kissing, worried max, allusions to more than kissing, fluff, george/carmen cameo

a/n: she's so me! i hate flying! but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do! wrote this way back after brazil, but have it now as a race week gift.

Everything changes very quickly after you meet Max Verstappen.

You are pulled into a world of action and luxury all because he wants you there. And you go willingly because you want to be with him, too. How could you not? The world famous champion is a kind, funny, and sweet man who loves his cats, his friends, and, as is becoming clear, you.

Much of the start of your relationship is scheduling. A day here and there between races, dinners and walks and movies at his place or yours. You spend a lot of time in airports when you can, working on the go and white knuckling your way through flight after flight. It's worth it to see him on the other side.

Somehow, you've never actually travelled together.

Until now.

The race weekend ends the best way possible -- the top step of the podium. A night of celebrations fades into an early morning flight on a private jet and this time, you're coming with. Because Max has three weeks off. He'll have to work, of course, spending time in Milton Keynes before the final stretch of the season, but for the most part you're going to have him all to yourself.

It does not occur to you until you're in the car on the way to the tarmac that Max has no idea how much you hate flying. You're in one of those big Sprinter vans, head on Max's shoulder as he scrolls through his phone. George and Carmen sit on the other side, the former's head tipped back as he dozes. Everyone is quiet and you're working a bit hard to keep yourself calm.

"What is it?" Max whispers. He puts his phone down and you look over at him. His hair is a mess, you can see that much even in the low light of the van. You reach out and run a hand through it.

"What?" you whisper back.

He shakes his head a little and wraps his fingers around your wrist. "You were all loose and then you got tense."

The frequent distance between you and the busy nature of your schedules demands that communication be top of mind. You do not lie to each other about your feelings, and you do not hide things. Even things like this.

"I don't really like flying," you say, softly. "I've never told you because we've never flown together. It just makes me kind of anxious. I've never been able to shake it."

His brows furrow. "Really?"

"I'll be fine," you assure him. "Just, maybe hold my hand during takeoff and landing. And if there is any turbulence."

"But -- I don't understand. Are you afraid?"

You know that there is really no way to make him understand but also that he won't stop trying to. Max gets afraid, he gets nervous. He's only human. But he combats it with sheer willpower, focus, and skill.

"I fly this way all the time," he says, urgent this time. "It's totally safe."

"That's not -- Max, I just get nervous. It's not really to do with safety. I just don't really enjoy it."

"Oi," George says, rousing. "What are you two yapping about?"

"Go back to snoring, George," Max says, not taking his eyes off you.

"Do I really snore?" you hear him ask in a hushed tone. Carmen shushes him.

"Pulling up to the plane now, folks," the driver calls back.

"Seriously," Max says, sounding a little desperate. "It'll be alright."

"I know. I fly all the time, Max." His frown deepens.

"To come see me," he reminds you. "If I knew you didn't like it, I would have --"

"What?" you interrupt. "Invented teleportation? It's okay, Max. Knowing it's to see you makes the whole thing easier, honestly."

This does not satisfy him. You can tell. It's a problem he can't solve -- his least favorite kind. There is no simulation to run for this, no meeting he can talk through, no track he can circle a thousand times.

The van door opens and you're all beckoned out onto the tarmac. You follow George and Carmen with your bag and Max is at your heels, his duffle slung over one shoulder and his other hand on the small of your back. Normally, he's not this touchy, but he seems reluctant to let your conversation in the van go.

"Max--"

"I'm thinking, liefje."

You roll your eyes. "About how to invent teleportation?"

"Something like that," he grumbles.

The jet is narrow, an aisle on one side and four rows of seats on the other. Four sets of two, a table between them. Carmen and George settle into one nook and you toss your bags into another. You slide into the window seat and Max sits heavily in the one next to you, still frowning. You let him, instead looking around to absorb the new experience.

It's much nicer than a regular plane, that's for sure. There is a cooler stocked with drinks and a cabinet full of what seems to be snacks. You can stretch your legs to rest your feet on the seat across from you. It's so early you figure all of you will just sleep, though Max's mood seems at odds with that plan.

The pilot introduces herself and gives a quick rundown of the route and airtime. You all nod and smile and then the doors close and the lights dim.

Max's hand finds yours immediately. You sit up a little and look over at him. He looks even more frazzled than he did at the hotel, when you both rolled out of bed and into comfy clothes. Soft pants and a hoodie that make him look boyish, younger than he is. But here, his cheeks are a little flushed and his jaw is set like he's about to get in his race car.

"What do you do normally?" he asks, softly. You can hear George's soft snores already. "When I'm not there."

"Max," you sigh.

"Tell me, please?"

The seat shifts under you as it heads for the runway. You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Well, I don't hold some random guy's hand," you tease. He squeezes your palm and huffs.

"He could be so lucky."

The plane comes to a stop and you know what happens next. Your mind remains preoccupied with Max -- a good thing, right now -- but your body tenses and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter as the engines kick up and you pick up speed.

Max says your name but you don't budge. "Liefje," he whispers, much closer than before. You can feel his breath on your cheek as he gently holds your chin with two fingers and turns your face towards him.

And then he's kissing you. A closed mouth press of his lips to yours, firm but still. At least until you sigh into it, releasing your death grip on the arm rest to reach for him blindly, your tangled fingers between you. The kiss deepens, his nose sliding against yours as you part your lips and the chaste press becomes more. Max's tongue licks into your mouth leisurely, like he has all the time in the world to explore you.

You kiss and kiss and kiss, so long that a voice in your head wonders if maybe you can do this for the whole flight, please? Max tugs your legs across his until you're practically in his lap, spread across the two seats like they're one.

"We're reached cruising altitude," the speakers crackle. "Feel free to move about, but please be mindful."

Max pulls away, a strand of spit glistening between you until he wipes it away with a smirk. His hair is even messier than before and his cheeks are pink. Lips swollen, eyes glassy -- you must look the same. Your heart is racing and you laugh, breathless.

"Well," Max says, then swallows. His voice is raspy, hoarse with desire. "Guess you have to fly with me from now on."

"Max." You pitch forward and settle where his neck and shoulder meet and inhale. His arms wrap around you and he holds you close. You can hear his heart racing just as fast as yours.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbles. "I know."

"I can do it," you remind him. "I do it all the time. I just don't like it, that's all."

You feel the press of his lips on your hair.

"I just don't like that I can't fix it," he says. "I can't get inside your head and make you know it's alright."

"No, you can't," you sigh. The plane jerks just a little -- a swoop of your stomach that has you gasping. Max's hold on you tightens and he says your name.

"How do you do this alone?" he rasps, mouth next to your ear as he rubs your back.

"I close my eyes," you say, taking deep breaths. "And I imagine you with me."

He curses softly. "We should get a jet by ourselves next time," he mutters. "Then I can really distract you."

That gets you to laugh, though you can't say you hate the idea. It makes you feel warm, makes you press your thighs together.

"Next time," you echo. "But for now..."

Max cups your jaw and ghosts his nose over yours. "For now..."

He brings your lips together.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv33 x reader #mv33 #f1 fanfic #my writing #fic: altitude

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just-dreaming-marvel · 3 days ago

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First Wedding Anniversary ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 1,060ish

Summary: Your first wedding anniversary with Logan rolls around.

Notes: This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan wasn't one for remembering dates, and you understood that. So you took it upon yourself to plan something for your first wedding anniversary. You were grateful that it was a Sunday and that Logan didn’t have to work. You kissed his bare shoulder before slipping out of the bed. You tugged one of Logan's flannels over you and headed for the kitchen. Turning on some music, you began to throw together a small breakfast for Logan.

Logan woke up almost as soon as the music turned on. He could hear the music, groaning in frustration that he couldn’t pull you into him to keep you in bed. You were already up and moving. With a sigh, Logan got out of bed, slipping some sweats on before heading for the kitchen. He found himself stopped in the nearest doorway, a smirk on his lips, as he watched you move to the music while cooking. He was so lucky to have you in his life.

Slowly, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You let out a little squeal as Logan's movements surprised you.

“Morning,” he gruffly said as he buried his head in your neck.

“Morning,” you replied with a smile, still working. “You were supposed to stay in bed.”

“Can’t sleep with you being so loud out here.”

“Hey! I am not being that loud.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He held a kiss to your neck, causing you to lean back into him. “Is there a reason you’re making me breakfast?”

You shrugged with a small smirk. “Maybe.”

“You really not gonna tell me?”

“Nope. Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

Logan grunted disapprovingly before letting you go and beginning to help you. The two of you ate breakfast outside on the back patio, looking at the wonderful view of the mountains. Your plan needed Logan to go out for a while, so after breakfast, you waltzed up to him with a list.

“Do you mind running down to town for me?” You asked, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could manage.

“What do you need from town?” He asked, wiping his hands dry from doing the dishes.

“Just a few items,” you handed him the list.

His brows rose at the sight. “A few items? There’s at least twenty on this list.”

You sighed, making sure it was dramatic. “If you can’t, I’ll just—“

“No, no, no, I’ll go.”

“Thank you!” You gave him a kiss.

He chuckled. “You're welcome. You sure you don't need to add anything else?”

“Nope!” You kissed his cheek before walking away. “Don't worry about rushing back!”

Logan’s brows pinched together. “Okay?” He could tell you were up to something, but it wasn't worth the fight. So Logan got dressed and headed out to gather your list from the stores in town.

As soon as Logan was gone, you got to work. The house needed to be cleaned, dinner needed to be made, the bedroom needed to be put together, and you needed to make sure that you were ready for the night.

~~~

Logan was completely done with the list when he passed by the flower shop. A few bouquets caught his eye, and he decided you deserved one.

“Welcome,” the owner greeted as Logan entered the store.

“Thanks,” Logan mumbled, eyes scanning the various bouquets.

“Are you looking for anything specific?”

“No.”

"Celebrating anything? A birthday? An anniversary?”

Logan froze as the words left the owner's mouth. He was a terrible husband. It was your first wedding anniversary and he had completely forgotten. “Fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry. That wasn’t—I forgot that it’s my wife and I’s anniversary.”

“Oh, how many years have you been together.”

“A lot of time. But it's our first wedding anniversary.”

“Well, I have a few bouquets ready to go if you want to take a look at them.”

“I’ll take them all.”

“What?"

“All of the bouquets you have ready. I want them.”

“You sure?"

“Positive.”

~~~

The house was clean. The table was set with dinner ready on it. The house was lit with candles and soft romantic music played through the house. You were anxiously waiting for Logan, wearing a new outfit specially picked out for this. You bit your lip as you heard the truck pull up. The sounds outside had you curious as they sounded rushed and almost frantic. You were about ready to head to the door when it burst open, and Logan came hurrying in with too many bouquets in his arms.

“Logan, what—"

“I’m sorry,” Logan quickly interrupted you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I completely forgot it was our anniversary. I’m a terrible husband, and I—“

Your hand came up and pressed against his lips, stopping his rambling. You couldn’t help but smile at him with a light laugh. “Logan, honey, I know you. I know that you’re terrible with dates because of your memory issues, and I know that you'd never purposefully forget our anniversary. It’s why I took control of it.”

Logan finally looked around, taking in the candles and your new outfit. His eyes caught sight of the set table and the dinner awaiting on it. You had pushed him out of the house to set this up. For him.

“I should have remembered,” he muttered against your hand.

You shook your head, stepping closer despite the flowers in his arms. “I remembered for the both of us. Plus, I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve good things too, Logan.”

Logan let the flowers fall to your feet before he took your wrist, kissing your palm before pulling your hand away from his mouth. “I only need one good thing, princess, and that’s you.” His other arm went around your waist and pulled you closer. “You are all I need.” The two of you shared a slow, loving kiss before Logan pulled away. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Thank you for doing this.”

“Logan, I love you. I wanted to make sure you knew that.”

Logan’s eyes softened with a vulnerability only reserved for you. “I don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you, sweetheart, but I'll keep trying.”

Your hands came up to gently hold Logan’s face. “You deserve everything, James, including me." You pulled him in for a brief kiss. “Happy anniversary, honey.”

"Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

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gameboyreplay · 3 days ago

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Sevika headcanon's!

An: this is my first time posting, everyone celebrate I gained courage! Wow! Warnings: Fluff!!!! And more fluff!!! Woah!!!! Also, Isha is ALIVE. my child will never die. dont piss me off

She's the cleanest woman you'll ever meet. Like she's doing two showers a day, scrubbing like she's trying to remove a layer of skin, smelling like whatever soap she picked up that month. Has a whole collection of cologne and you best believe she loves when people buy her those soap sets for Christmas or her birthday.

Speaking of birthdays, she's one of those people that HATE them. You even try to do anything nice and she's raising an eyebrow. She just doesn't understand the hype! (Doesn't want to admit she's 40)

Forgets to eat. Like you'll come home from work and she'll be sat on the couch, exhausted from having to work with Jinx and it's like a sixth sense at this point. "Hey." She mumbles, looking over to the front door. Her cape hanging off the back of the couch. "Hi baby." You say as you start to take off your jacket. When you turn back around you immediately furrow your eyebrows at how tired she looks. "Did you eat today?" You ask, taking her cape off the back of the couch and placing it on the coat hanger. She looks up to the ceiling, trying to remember if she had but just from that alone you shake your head and walk over to the kitchen. "Never mind."

When she pulls off her cape, sometimes it'll land in puddles and she has to grab it after whatever fight she was in that day, groaning because now has to wash her cape. She'll stumble home, still angry that she had to clean it. She'll go into the bathroom and lean over her tiny ass bathtub, starting to clean any of the dirt out of it. Like she's mumbling to herself about Jinx, using her breath to blow her hair out of her face and grunting when it falls back anyways. Then she'll bring it over to the bedroom, a water trail in her path. She plugs in the hairdryer, still grumbling to herself. Once it's somewhat dry, she's pulling the iron out. You walk through the door and in front of you is an annoyed Sevika, her cape on your bed, the hairdryer discarded on the floor and Sevika slowly running the iron over the cape, a scowl on her face.

When Jinx needs her hair braiding a few days later, she's absolutely yanking on her hair. Like every single strand she is TUGGING.

This woman SLEEPS. Like I'm talking full on, window shaking, waking you up, waking HERSELF up. She's tired man, she's gotta sleep like a father of four!!

Whenever she walks into where she gets her mechanical arms, every single prosthetist in the room just sigh. They see her face every other week.

Bites her nails like it's going to solve her problems. (It won't, it doesn't)

When Silco was alive Sevika would constantly try to get him to play cards with her. Likeee she'd be manipulative. "Do you wanna play cards?" Her smirk is sooo obvious on her face. "No, I'm busy." Is all Silco says. Within seconds she's placing a cigar in front of him. "You sure?" She mumbles. And you know she's walking away with coins and a cocky grin.

I feel like Zaun would be the type to have so many animals just wandering the street. So, she could be having a conversation and dogs will just walk up and she totally acts like she's annoyed while slowly lowering down and stroking the animal.

Like you'll be having a talk with her and instead of her towering over you like normal, she'll be slowly bending down. "Yeah, yeah..." "Sev, why are you on the floor." And she's just petting the dog like it's obvious.

Whenever she takes care of Isha, that child uses her like a climbing frame. She walks into a room and you just hear little mumbling and gasps behind her until she turns around and Isha is just hanging off her shoulder.

She's WARM, like crazy overheating, can't tell if she's sick, HEATED. Yet she'll still wrap up nice and toasty in the covers.

And if you're like me and you have ice cold fingers and toes, she jumps like you just place an ice cube on her body. She doesn't understand how you get like this. It seriously worries her

She gets sooooo annoyed when her hair gets in her face. Like she'll do the weird blow thing and get even more annoyed when it doesn't work.

Jinx and Isha will put clips in her hair. She pretends to act pissed off but she's secretly grateful!!

Does NOT shave. She does not gaf! Bush and happy trail for days! You could braid her leg hair! She does not care!!

After Silco died you had to practically force her off the drinks, cigarillos and the shimmer. Drowning her sorrows like she's not got two kids to take care of now.

Literally has given up trying to stop Jinx from just stopping around her apartment. She'll just hear a little knock before the sight of Isha and Jinx just standing there.

She has learnt to accept that they probably won't go away for a while. So she just allows them to get comfy while they're there. It's ended up with them stay there for days. Gave them a bedtime and everything.

If she hears them messing around in the living room she's THERE. Like if the room is dark, they only know she's there by her stomping footsteps before she crosses her arms and looms over them. "Go to sleep." And Isha just giggles quietly as she slides under her covers, Jinx doing the same with some look on her face towards Isha that Sevika doesn't notice.

She'll stand there until they're both laying down before turning around and grumbling to herself. Then about ten minutes as she's about to fall asleep again all she can hear is giggles and laughter.

Says some sarcastic shit like, "wow, no way," whenever they say they're tired in the morning. ---- A/n: I just want my wife back guys😞😞😞 Anyways let me know if they're any mistakes... or don't...

#sevika #jinx my beloved #arcane s2 #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #sevika headcanon #isha #isha my baby

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loveesiren · 2 days ago

Text

Baby Daddy (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Wrote this a while back and got a lot of requests for a part 2 so I will post it as well! Along with a blurb I've written. Never really planned to make this a series but if you guys want more just let me know! :)

Warnings: Light smut, language, cocaine, angst, pregnancy, mention of abortion, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe thrusted into you one final time before finishing. Cumming deep inside of you for the fourth time tonight. "Fuckkkkk," He moaned before pulling out of you and laying on his back. "You're so fucking tight."

"Yep," You said dryly as you pulled your panties and shorts back on.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asked as he turned to look at you.

"Uhhh, home?" You tell him. "Why would I stay?"

"Whatever," Rafe said before rolling over and pouring a line of coke out on his night stand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag before leaving his room and storming through the house out the front door.

The walk home was boring. You put your headphones in and slowly danced your way back to the Chateau. As you did every fucking night.

After your mom split and John B's dad went missing you were John B's legal guardian. You were step siblings but his dad raised you when your mom left and for that you were forever grateful. Even though you were a little older, you were really close with John B and his friends. You guys did everything together. Told eachother everything. Except for this.

You'd been sleeping with Rafe for 6 months now. It all started after a Christmas party last December. You were working your shift at the club, way more tipsy than you should have been for being on the clock. A drunk Rafe Cameron started talking you up and you flirted back. The boy was handsome enough. Granted, he was a fucking dick. But you just wanted to get off.

He took you into the bathroom on your break and absolutely rocked your world. No one had ever made you cum like he did. The way you could feel yourself release around his cock made you both fucking dissolve into the earth.

From that day forward, you guys fucked constantly. But you never told a soul and neither did he. Kooks and Pogues don't hook up.

______________

Your eyes flickered open. "Ugh," You groaned as you tried to sit up. You were in your room, Kiara asleep next to you. She slept with you every night since her parents kicked her out. She was your closest girlfriend.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you hopped out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. You expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Gasping for air in between heaves.

"Are you okay?" Kiara was at the door now, crouching beside you to hold your hair back.

"Must be the flu," You said before vomiting again. "I didn't even drink last night."

"Alright let me get you some water and a pillow. You're probably gonna stay in here today."

You rested by the toilet and drank your water but by 11am you were feeling 100%.

You walked out into the kitchen and greeted everyone.

"Don't get us sick," John B said, stepping back from you.

"I feel fine now," You said. "I'm actually hungry!"

Sarah and Kiara eyed you for a moment. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You said as you popped some waffles in the toaster.

"Are you pregnant?" Kie asked.

You paused for a moment. You and Rafe never used condoms. And had you been taking your birth control lately? You were always bad at taking meds.

"Aha, no. No way." You responded.

John B, JJ, and Pope sat awkwardly.

You looked to the floor as you pressed your hand to your stomach. Thoughts racing through your head as you tried to remember the last time you had your period. "Fuck."

"Do you have a secret lover?" Sarah teased.

"John B, give me the keys to the Twinkie." You demanded.

John B fished them out of his pocket and handed them to you and you rushed out the door.

"Y/N, where are you going?!" Kiara called after you but you ignored her.

You hopped into the van and drove off quickly. When you pulled up to the drug store you ran inside and and bought five pregnancy tests and a gallon of water.

You leaned back in your seat and sighed after chugging as much water as you could.

You considered texting Rafe but you voted against it. You needed to be sure.

You drove back to the Chateau, grocery bag in hand as you locked yourself in the bathroom.

Two hours later you were standing over the counter, staring at the five plus signs set before you.

You couldn't help but cry. "Fuck..."

"Y/N?" You heard Sarah and Kie outside your door. You leaned back and swallowed. You had no idea what to do but telling a friend might be a good start.

You open the door and yank them into the bathroom. "Y/N! What's going on?" Sarah asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh before nodding your head towards the bathroom counter.

Sarah and Kie look at eachother before slowly walking towards where the five pregnancy tests sat. Five. And they were all positive.

"Oh shit, Y/N..." Sarah said.

Kiara swallowed. "Uhm...is this like a congratulations or a 'we need to go to the clinic right now' situation?"

"I don't know," You said, joining them by the sink. "I should probably talk to...to..him." Your eyes fell to your feet.

"Who, Y/N?" Kiara asked. "We can take you there, we're here for you."

You laugh and throw your head back.

"Y/N...Who is he?" Sarah asks.

You bite your lip as you look down to meet her eyes.

She was confused and concerned. She wanted to help but her and Kie were both nervous about what was going on.

"Rafe," You said softly, barely a whisper.

Kiara and Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "Wait..Rafe? My brother?? Rafe's the dad?!" Sarah was practically screaming now.

"Shhhh!" You said as you ran and covered her mouth. "Yes, it's Rafe's okay! Can we please not scream it to the whole world?!"

Sarah was silent as you backed away from her.

"Since when have you been fucking Rafe Cameron?!" Kiara asks.

"Y/N, he's a piece of shit!" Sarah added.

"Okay, listen! We've been hooking up since Christmas and...I don't know. I thought it was a one time thing but it just kept happening."

"Is that where you go every night?!" Sarah asked.

You sigh and press your tongue to your inner cheek. "Yeah."

"So you're fucking my brother," Sarah scoffs.

"You're fucking mine!" You hiss back.

Sarah rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Touche. But Rafe's a fucking dick!"

"Yeah, I'm aware." You sigh as you lean back and sink to the floor. "Should I even tell him?"

"He'd wanna know," Sarah said softly. "As much as I hate him, he loves hard."

You feel your phone buzz and pull it from your pocket. "Fuck, it's Rafe."

You coming over tonight?

"I can't do this." You begin to cry, placing your head on your knees. "Rafe doesn't even care about me. I'm just pussy to him."

"I don't know, Y/N...He's always sucked at showing his true feelings."

You shake your head before Sarah can say anything else. You grab your phone and respond.

No. We shouldn't see each other anymore.

You hesitate but press send. It breaks your heart but you know this is the right thing.

Your phone buzzes again but you ignore it.

"I'm gonna call the clinic," You say as you excuse yourself from the bathroom and go sit on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone, not being able to bring yourself to do it.

"Fuck this!" You yell as you toss your phone across the patio.

"Y/N-"

"What John B?!"

"Are you okay?"

You were pacing now, taking drags off your cigarette as you tried to catch your breath.

"You shouldn't be smoking." John B says.

You turn to look at him. "Doesn't matter," You mutter.

"You're pregnant." John B states. You turn to look at him again. Annoyed the Kie and Sarah said anything. "And no, Kie and Sarah didn't tell me. I'm just not stupid."

You sit down and sigh, dragging your cigarette again.

Your phone continues to buzz from the other side of the porch. John B goes to pick it up. When you notice him staring at it you quickly snatch it from his hands.

"Rafe?" His voice is almost a whisper.

You sigh as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yeah." You respond.

You look down at your phone to see the five messages Rafe had sent you.

What? What do you mean? Why?

Y/N, I'm sorry I was a dick last night.

Please talk to me.

I'm sorry...

I need to talk to you. Please.

"Are you gonna tell him?" John B asks.

You put your head in your hands as you try to choke back tears. You had not intended to find out you were pregnant today. Nor were you prepared for your brother and all your friends to find out you'd been fucking Rafe Cameron. It was all too overwhelming.

"I don't know," You respond honestly.

John B sighs. "Look, never been a fan of Rafe. I had no clue you two were.....close." He says, motioning towards your stomach. "But I think you should think about it a little more and talk to him before you make a final decision."

You chewed on his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

_________

You locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. Curled up under the covers as your phone continued to vibrate.

Nonstop calls and texts from Rafe. Since when has he cared so much? He was probably just coked out and horny.

You decided to shut your phone off. He'd have to find another girl to get his dick wet. Sex was the last thing you wanted right now.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, completely unsure of what to do.

The next three days were awful. Throwing up all morning, crying all afternoon. Your friends tried to be there for you but you continued to barricade yourself in your room. You'd come out once in a while to grab some food and water and instantly go back to your bed, binge watching Jersey Shore on your lap top under the covers.

You'd kept your phone off. You really just couldn't bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. And the people you would need to talk to were right outside the door.

_______

"Oh shit," Sarah said as she stood up from her spot on the porch, getting a better view of Rafe's truck pulling up to the Chateau.

The rest of the Pogues stood up too, not fully prepared to handle this situation.

"John B!" Rafe said as he hopped out of his truck. "John B, look man, I don't have any beef with you, alright? I just really need to see Y/N."

"She's not feeling great right now, man." John B responded.

Kiara slipped away and rushed to your bedroom.

You heard knocking on your door and you groaned. "What?"

"Y/N, uhm..." Kiara begins.

"What is it, Kie? I'm sleeping."

"Rafe's here."

Your chest tightens at her words.

"I don't-I don't think he's going to leave without seeing you, Y/N."

"Fuck me!" You whisper as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll be out in a second!"

Kiara goes back to where Rafe and John B are arguing on the porch. "She'll be right out."

The boys shut up and look at her.

"Thank you." Rafe said.

You hop out of bed and open your door. The light of day almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. You instantly missed the dark warmth of your bed.

You slowly make your way to the porch. Your plaid pajama shorts clung loosely to your hips while your tank top hugged you tightly. Your hair was a wavy mess. You hadn't done anything to it in days. But you really couldn't care less at this point.

You shyly step outside. Rafe's eyes flicker to you, a small smile on his lips before taking in your appearance. Concern instantly washing over his face. "Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, taking a step closer to you and reaching for your hands.

You quickly pull away from him and he frowns. "Uhm, could you guys give us a minute?" You ask the group. They all nod hesitantly and head inside.

"Why are you here, Rafe?" You ask once the two of you are alone.

"I haven't heard from you in days. I-I got worried."

You sighed and looked down to your feet.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry I've been such a dick. I'm trying to quit the blow it's just so hard, ya know?"

"It's fine, Rafe. I knew what this was from the beginning." You shrug.

"I like you." He admits. You look up at him. "I like you a lot. I suck at showing it and I get why you're probably sick of me. But I need you to know you're more than just sex to me."

"W-what do you mean?" You ask confused.

Rafe lets out a slow, shaky breathe and scratches the back of his head. "I'm not good at...at showing emotions," He begins. "I don't like being vulnerable. That's why I do coke, I guess. I've just-I've never been good at the whole feelings thing and I just really didn't know how to tell you how I really felt. But when you said you didn't want to see me anymore...." He trails off, looking down to meet your gaze. "I-it hurt me..."

Your expression softens and you give him a sympathetic smile.

"And if you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. I just wanted to tell you-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head into his chest. He was stunned for a moment but moved to wrap his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your messy hair.

"I like you too, Rafe." You admit. "And I don't want to stop seeing you. I was just scared. There is something we need to talk about..."

"Anything, sweetheart," He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut. "Rafe, I'm pregnant." The words leave your lips without warning and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next.

Rafe stops moving. Your body tenses as you still cling to him. After a moment, he places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you back to look at him. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm pregnant. I was going to call the clinic but I thought I should talk to you about it first and I'm sorry I ignored you the last few days I just-"

Rafe starts shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, baby, shhhh." He says. "I just uhm...do you want to keep it?" He asks nervously.

"I-I mean...I've just never really thought about being a mom before."

"We can move you to Tannyhill," Rafe starts. "And I'll tell my dad I need more work and we'll save up and Wheezie can babysit and-"

"Rafe!" You stop him. You can't help but laugh. "Are you saying you want to keep it? I was only going to call the clinic because I thought you wouldn't want to..."

"Yes, yes!" He says, picking you up and twirling you around. When he sets you back down he takes your face between his hands and kisses you deeply. The kiss was passionate, filled with love, unlike the hungry make out sessions that usually stole your nights.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Rafe yelled as he jumped off the porch, full of energy.

You laughed, tears of joy filling your eyes as you heard the Pogues come back out on the porch. This went way better than you had expected.

"I take it that went well?" John B asks as he watches Rafe run around in excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rafe so happy before," Sarah chuckles beside you.

"Whoo! Okay!" Rafe says as he comes back over to you, practically out of breath. He gets on his knees and places kisses along your stomach. "I'm taking you to lunch. What do you want to eat? You can have whatever you want, baby, on me."

"Rafe," You laugh, running your fingers through his hair as he keeps his lips pressed to your belly. "Can I at least shower first?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course baby. You wanna shower here? Or we could go to my house,"

"Oh God, please go to Tannyhill." Sarah says, the rest of the group agreeing with her. "This here is a shared shower."

You laugh. "Let me just grab some things and we can go,"

"Okay," Rafe agrees, smiling as he watches you disappear into the Chateau.

"You gonna take care of her? And that baby?" John B asks as he stands next to Rafe.

"Definitely," Rafe responds. "She has no idea how happy she makes me. But I'm gonna show her."

John B nods and offers a small smile.

"Ready!" You say as you come back out, duffle bag over your shoulder.

Rafe takes it from you immediately and goes to put it in his truck.

"Congratulations," John B says, pulling you into a hug.

"Thanks, JB," You smile. "I'll call you later, okay? Stay out of trouble!" You command as you walk towards the truck.

"Aye-aye," He says, saluting you.

You smile as Rafe helps you into the passenger seat. "You ready to go, Mama?" He asks, brushing his hand over your still flat stomach.

You smirk at the gesture. "Definitely."

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #drew starkey #sarah cameron #john b routledge #obx pogues

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