#and there are some exact compliments (in the sense that they are exact compliments) that DO look good together

[unityrain24]

btw i fucking hate complimentary colours.* no it is not ""science"" or ""colour psychology"" that they compliment and look good together, it is not a """fact"""! No!! They Look Horrific Together Actually! Like they are actually anti-complimentary, like the worst possible colours you could put together!! "complementary colours" my ass they should be called "warning never pair together colours"!!!

[sunniques]

— 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

➺ PAIRING: kim taehyung x female reader

➺ GENRE: brother-in-law au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: your sister’s selfish husband is unexpectedly sweet on you. maybe a little too much.

➺ CW/TW: brother-in-law!taehyung, toxic family dynamics, reader can be carried by taehyung, cheating, fingering, masturbation (m), oral sex (f & m), unprotected sex, creampies, (some) cum play

➺ WC: 4.4k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

Taehyung has always been selfish.

Ever since he was young, he would go around taking toys from other children because he thought he deserved to have them. It’s a habit he never fully grew out of, and even now as an adult he still goes around taking anything he wants. His undesirable disposition is hated by many, but not by his wife. (That’s only because she’s the exact same way.)

As the first born daughter of her family, she grew up spoiled rotten. Constantly being doted and placated on made his fiancé into a bratty woman with a terrible temper. It didn’t bother him so much because she never acted that way with him.

The same could not be said for her youngest sister.

From what Taehyung had gathered, you two weren’t particularly close. It made sense since you had often had to concede to your bratty sister. Being forced to share the doting attention and unconditional love from your parents had never sat well with her, and it didn’t change even now that you were both adults. As much as his in-laws tried to get his wife used to the idea of sharing, they simply couldn’t.

At least, not when it came to her things.

Taehyung didn’t often feel sympathy for others, but he couldn’t stand the way your parents and other siblings constantly indulged his wife at your expense. Being the sweet little angel you were, you never said anything. You selflessly accepted all the disappointments with that pretty smile he loved so much.

While your disappointment wasn’t always obvious, Taehyung still caught onto it even when your family didn’t. That’s why he took it upon himself to dote on you whenever he could. If there was anything you wanted, he got it for you. His praise and compliments were constant, and so were his affectionate hugs. Taehyung never cared that it bothered your sister because the fond way you looked at him made it all worth it.

That’s where his need to have you all for himself began, and the feeling only intensified when his wife demanded that he stay away from you. As a man who had always gotten what he wanted, Taehyung didn’t listen.

It’s the night of your college graduation, and you’re having the worst time of your life. Instead of the day being all about you, your family decided to celebrate your sister’s promotion. Originally, you were meant to go to a restaurant that everyone liked to celebrate both achievements. In a very unsurprising turn of events, your sister insisted that she wanted to go to her favorite restaurant knowing that you were extremely allergic to seafood.

You didn’t say anything even as your family left with the vague promise of celebrating your once in a lifetime accomplishment another time. The funny thing is, you don’t feel completely disappointed. You’re mostly irritated because you turned down celebrating with your friends because you thought your family finally wouldn’t act shitty for one night.

It’s a shame that you’re staying in because you look really good. Your brother-in-law bought you the dress you’re wearing as an early graduation gift. You could still picture Taehyung’s cute boxy smile when you told him how much you loved it. Thinking back, maybe seeing you in the dress is what set your sister off when you walked down the stairs.

Pushing that out of your mind, you walked up the stairs to your room. As you ponder about what to do with the rest of your night, you wonder if Taehyung is still asleep. In probably the only selfless act your sister ever committed, she suggested her husband stay home to sleep off his jet lag.

You furrow your eyebrows when you see you door is ajar. As you get closer, you hear soft sighs and what almost sounds like moans.

“Fuck.” A deep voice you recognize instantly groans deeply.

You’re being extremely quiet, and a second later you hear a soft schlick schlick schlick sound that grows louder and quicker as time passes. Through the small opening, you can see part of your brother-in-law. Even though you can’t fully see him, you can tell he’s completely naked. Your eyes practically pop out of your head when you realize what’s going on. Taehyung is actually jerking off in your room, on your bed.

Your eyes get bigger as the wet sounds get more lewd. It’s like your feet are rooted to the ground, and all you can do is stand there and listen to him like some sick pervert. The longer you stand at your door, the more turned on you feel. Your panties are starting to get slick with your arousal, and you’re about to leave to put a stop to your sick behavior until you hear a moan of your name.

It’s like you’re not in control of your own actions as you go to push the door open. In spite of knowing what was going on, you’re still not prepared to see Taehyung sitting on the edge of your bed with a pair of panties wrapped around his cock.

Your panties.

“It’s rude to stare, sweetheart.” Taehyung’s voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. His lustful tone has you pulling your eyes away from his dripping cock and up to his smirking face.

What you should’ve said is that he’s the rude one for his actions, but you’re too flustered and turned on to say anything reasonable.

“Tae!” You squeak out, eyes dropping back to his thick dick. “Th-Those are mine.”

“I know.” He says brazenly. “Your sister doesn’t wear cute little panties like this. You don’t mind that I borrowed them, right?”

Your mouth is watering. His cock is so long and thick—it’s undoubtedly the biggest you’ve seen in person. You can’t stop staring at it, and you can’t really think past the arousal you feel. The feeling is sickening, especially because you know it’s wrong that all you can think about is how badly you want you put your mouth on his pretty cock.

“It’s wrong.” You finally manage to say. “You’re married to my sister.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem fazed by the reminder. He raises an eyebrow at you as he stands from your bed. Your panties are tossed by his discarded clothes, and you have a sick inkling that you won’t be getting them back. Before you can say anything, he steps forward and grabs your arm. He effortlessly pulls you closer until you’re flush against his chest. You swallow nervously when you feel his twitching cock rub against you.

“Your sister has to learn to share sometime.” His smirk is wolfish as his big hands settle on your waist. “God, baby. You don’t know how long I’ve been holding back. Been jerking off to the graduation photo your mom sent into the group chat since I woke up.”

“You’re sick.” You try to sound disgusted, but Taehyung’s eyes only shine brighter at your words.

God, you’re cute. Especially because he knows how much you like it. Your desire is reflected in the way you gasp filthily when he pinches your nipples through the dress you have on.

“I am.” He agrees through a hum, not stopping his rough movements. “But you like it. I can tell how turned on you are that I stole your panties and used them to jerk off.”

You let out a breathy moan as you feel a rush of arousal so heady it makes you dizzy. His hands trail down your body until he’s playing with the hem of your short dress.

“I bet your little pussy is soaked.” His voice is seductive as he places his lips near your ear.

You can’t say anything because it’s true. You’re so wet that you wouldn’t be surprised if your arousal started to drip down your thighs. Lust and arousal are dictating your actions now, and it’s why you don’t stop Taehyung when he uses one hand to push up your dress and slips the other into your panties.

“Oh, honey.” He purrs in pure delight. “You’re so fucking wet—just like I thought. Want me to play with your pussy, hm?”

You don’t say anything, but your sister’s husband isn’t having any of it.

“Say it. Tell me how much you want me to play with your juicy pussy.”

Whining lowly, you buck your hips forward. “I want you to play with my pussy, Tae. Please.”

Of course you comply to his wishes easily. You’re always so good for him. Taehyung licks his lips hungrily. He was going to wreck you in every way possible.

“Such a good girl.” He kisses your jaw fondly.

You let out a quiet gasp when his fingers swipe over your swollen clit. They delicately trace your pussy lips down to your leaking hole. He repeats the motions until you’re writhing against him. His long fingers gently rub circles on your sensitive lips, gathering your wetness and smearing it all over your aching clit. You’re moaning loudly by now, not caring that you’re doing something so despicable.

Taehyung smirks and pulls away from you, loving how you whine in protest. “Want more sweetheart?”

You nod almost petulantly.

“Tell your brother-in-law what you want. You know I’ll give it to you if you ask nicely.”

Any morality you have flies out the window at that moment. “Want to taste your cock.”

Taehyung’s eyes become impossibly dark at your words. His cock twitches as he watches you slowly peel your dress off. He groans at the sight of your naked body, cockhead leaking with more precum. God, he’s never wanted anything so badly in his life. (Not that) deep down, he knows that once he has you he won’t ever let you go. And he definitely won’t let anyone else have you.

You kneel in front of him so you’re face to face with his cock. It’s so hard that it almost looks painful. You lick your lips as you greedily take in the arousing sight.

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans when he sees you pressing your thighs together. “I’m going to blow my load if you keep looking at it like that.”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so fucking big.” You moan out the last word as you try to put pressure on your throbbing pussy.

More precum leaks out of his tip and slowly drips down his aching length. Taehyung groans lowly, the sound reverberating in his throat as his pupils dilate. He knew having you for real was better than any fantasy he could dream up.

“Yeah? Then show me how much like this big cock, sweetheart.”

You lean forward and lick up all the precum leaking down his dick, moaning against the soft skin. Sucking dick has always turned you on, but the fact that it’s Taehyung’s cock you have your mouth on is even more arousing. You lick your way back up and softly suckle on the head, slurping up his precum like candy. Your brother-in-law pulls out to trace your lips with his drippy tip, smearing precum across your mouth to claim you as his. Your arousal is dripping on the floor as you press a quick kiss on his dick. With an excited moan, you start to lap on it until he’s fucking his cock back into your mouth

“Fuck, baby—that’s it.” Taehyung moans, gently thrusting his cock forward. “Suck that cock like I know you can.”

You quickly bob your head down with a soft mewl. Taehyung’s eyes roll back when he feels your tongue tracing the thick vein on his cock as you sink down inch by inch. The soft hum you let out has his cock twitching in your mouth, coating your tongue with more of his precum.

“Feels so damn good.” Taehyung groans as he goes to caress your head.

More juices drip out of you as you hungrily keep sucking his cock. Your tongue circles his head before dipping into the slit to taste more of his precum. The cute little moans and mewls you let out around his dick only drive your brother-in-law more crazy.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, honey.” His eyes are dark as he rocks his hips into your mouth, pushing himself deeper into your throat until you start to gag. “Fuck. I can tell you like sucking me off. Didn’t expect you to be such a dirty little slut.”

You whine cutely, sucking him deeper into your mouth. Taehyung groans when you lick his leaking cockhead before sloppily bobbing your head further down his dick. Never in his life has he had his dick sucked this good, and he can’t help but think you deserve a reward for it.

“Get ready, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum.” Taehyung groans lowly. “I want you to swallow my load like a good girl. Can you do that for me?”

He pulls his cock out until just his leaking tip is left resting on your tongue. Taehyung moans your name as thick spurts of cum fill your mouth. You swallow it all up eagerly, loving the taste of him. Your pussy throbs when you see his stomach flex in reaction to you gently leaning forward to suckle the head of his cock. It’s like you want to make sure none of his seed goes to waste.

You give his throbbing tip a quick kiss before pulling back and shakily standing on your feet. Never have you been so turned on, and for the first time in your life you want to be greedy and demand more.

Luckily, your brother-in-law is greedy enough for the both of you.

“Don’t think I'm done with you, honey.” His voice comes out in a growl. “I haven’t even tasted that cute little pussy yet.”

The next thing you know, Taehyung has you splayed out on your bed, face buried in your wet cunt. He’s eating you out with a vigor you haven’t experienced until him, and all you can do is whine and moan loudly.

“I fucking knew you’d taste as sweet as you look.” He moans, tongue lapping at your dripping folds as he maintains eye contact. “Such a sweet little cunt. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Taehyung’s large hands push down on your thighs to spread you open for his eager mouth. He pulls back to spit on your pussy before fucking his spit into your clenching hole. The moan you let out is so loud that you wonder if your neighbors are able to hear you. At this point you don’t care. You’re too lost in pleasure as Taehyung shoves his face back into your cunt, licking into your slick hole.

“S-Shit, Tae.” You mewl as you grind your pussy into his mouth. “I’m already so close.”

He loves how surprised you sound. Clearly, those college boys hadn’t been doing a good job at keeping you satisfied. Taehyung is going to rectify that. He’s going to make sure you know what true pleasure is by the end of the night.

Taehyung flattens his tongue and laps at your cunt, parting your folds and pressing deeper into your dripping hole. You whine loudly, lost in the pleasure your brother-in-law is giving you. He’s slurping up your juices like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, and that just turns you on even more.

Your hands pull at his hair as you start to grind against his mouth, toes curled and eyes rolled to the back of your head. Taehyung groans at the burning feeling. He eagerly sucks your swollen bud into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it until you’re writhing against him.

“I’m gonna cum!” You moan loudly.

Taehyung hums in approval. He starts to suckle your clit softly to keep you on the edge longer. It’s so satisfying to hear your pretty moans and feel you trembling against him. Taehyung groans into your pussy as he begins to lap at your hole with nice slow licks.

“Cum on my tongue, honey. Show me how good I make you feel.” Your brother-in-law moans against your sopping folds.

“Taehyung!” You cry out as you cum all over his face, juices coating the lower part of his face.

He moans along with you, suckling your clit back into his mouth until you’re writhing from overstimulation. Taehyung smirks against you as he presses a gentle kiss on your throbbing pussy. He starts trailing wet kisses up your body until he gets to your mouth.

“Such a good girl.” He whispers before pressing his lips on yours and shoving his tongue into your mouth.

You can taste yourself on his lips as you arch up into his body. His dripping cock drags against your throbbing pussy, gently teasing you. The mewls you let out makes him thrusts his hips to rub his cock through the slick leaking from your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull his cock closer and grind up against it. A quiet fuck falls from your lips when you feel his hot cock glide through your messy folds. Eager hands run through Taehyung’s soft hair. You’re so turned on that you can’t think straight.

“So fucking good for me.” Taehyung coos after he pulls back. The pretty, needy face you have is one he keeps wanting to see. Eagerly, he starts to press sloppy kisses across your neck. “Can’t wait to feel your wet little pussy, baby.”

You whimper and pull him back up into another kiss. This time he licks into your mouth messily, spit dripping from the corners of your lips to slide down your jaw. You feel him grind his cock against you before pulling away. Taehyung takes his cock and slaps it against your dripping pussy, gathering all your slick along the length of it.

“Are you ready for me, baby?” His deep voice growls. “Ready for me to stuff your pretty little cunt?”

“Yes!” You mewl desperately. “Want to feel you split me open, Tae. Fuck—you’re so big.”

You can see his pupils expanding. “Yeah? You want me to stretch this tight little hole out? Show you what it’s like for a real man to fuck you?”

You nod, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth before sinking your teeth into the plush skin. Fuck. You’ve never wanted anyone so badly. Any thoughts of how wrong this all in disappears when you look back into your brother-in-law’s eyes.

“Shit,” he groans before he spits on to your wet pussy.

Taehyung pressed his cock down so his leaking tip slowly eases into your soaked pussy. He slowly rocks his hips to sink inch by inch into your pulsing cunt. Your mewls and whines makes his dick throb almost painfully, and it’s right then that he decides he can’t let you go. Never.

“What a tight little pussy,” Taehyung says as he licks his lips. He pulls back and thrusts forward harder than before. Your tight cunt clenches down on his cock as he bottoms out completely. “Such a treat.”

“God, Tae.” You whine, voice high. “Fuck me.”

Immediately, he starts sliding his cock in and out of your cunt. Taehyung’s rough thrusts make your lovely tits bounce. You moan loudly when his pelvis rubs over your swollen clit. It makes you keen and move your hips to meet his movements. Heavy balls against your ass with every thrust, the loud plap plap plap of skin on skin drives your arousal even higher.

“So fucking good!” You gasp out, whines and moans mixing in together.

You feel almost dizzy as Taehyung keeps spearing you open on his thick cock. He’s hitting your sweet spot repeatedly, and you can feel a familiar coil building in the pit of your stomach. Your brother-in-law groans when your wet cunt clenches around him. He lowers his weight on your body, wanting to get impossibly closer to you. Your skin starts to stick to his from the sweat building between your bodies.

Taehyung starts to place wet kisses on your neck, teeth grazing your skin with gently nips that make your pussy flutter around his cock. You feel so good that you can’t contain the wanton noises from leaving your mouth. Taehyung’s fat cock grinds into the spongy spot inside your cunt as he savagely ruts into your body. His pelvis grazes your sensitive clot, sending shocks up pleasure up your spine. Slick gushes from your pussy as he hammers into your g-spot, making you squeeze him tighter and tighter.

“God. You’re so much tighter than your sister,” he groans into your ear. “Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this cute little pussy.”

His words do the trick and make you cum hard on his cock. You cry out loudly, chanting his name repeatedly as your pussy clamps down on his dick. Taehyung grins deviously. His hand slips down your body to rub and tease your clit. This prolongs your orgasm until it feels like you’re cumming a second time.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so fucking hot,” Taehyung groans as you coat his dick with your cream.

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as he fucks you harder. He’s so addicted to your pussy that he can’t completely pull his cock out of you. Your brother-in-law desperately ruts into your slick walls, chasing his own orgasm. After a few more mind blowing thrusts, he’s pressing his cock deep into your cunt until thick cum is spilling from the bulbous head, stuffing you full.

“Got the tightest little pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

You mewl in content as Taehyung’s hips press against yours while he continues to fuck his cum into you.

Your slick walls milk his cock for all its worth. You can feel it pulsing inside you as he pants against your skin. Taehyung swivels his hips into you, smirking when you cry out for him. He pulls his cock halfway out of your cunt before sinking it back inside a second later. Your creamy arousal and his cum mix together and form a ring around the base of his dick.

“Feels so good, Tae.”

You’re so fucked out, but he can tell you want more. Being so used to only getting the bare minimum, he knows you won’t dare to ask for more. Luckily, he’s greedy enough for the both of you.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m not done using your cute little pussy. Gonna keep you on my cock all night long.”

Time seems unreal from then on. You’re lost in the haze of pleasure, and you can’t be sure how many times you’ve cum all over Taehyung’s big cock. You know he’s came in you two more times after his first orgasm. Somehow, his cock is still so stiff and hard.

“Think you can take one more for me, baby?” Taehyung coos as he lifts your limp legs on his forearms.

You mewl weakly, hips lifting slightly. He smirks down at you, loving how you can’t get enough of him. Taehyung nudges his drooling tip against your entrance, dragging the leaking head to smear the cum from the last cream pie he gave you all over your messy cunt. The actions make you whine and shift against him, silently begging him to spear you open all over again.

“One last load for your greedy little pussy,” his smile seems more innocent than it actually is. “Be good for me, honey.”

With that, he sinks his dirty cock into your sore pussy. Taehyung leans forward to press your sweaty bodies together. Your eyes roll back of your head as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, thighs shaking in his arms.

“The best pussy I’ve had wrapped around my dick, and to think it belongs to my sweet sister-in-law.”

Your pussy spasms and clenches down on his thick cock as you cry out. Brain melting pleasure seeps down your spine as he fucks into your cunt roughly. All you can do is cry out as he keeps hammering his cock into your sensitive hole.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I’m not gonna be able to give up this sweet little pussy. It’s so tight and wet. Makes me want it all the time.”

The way he whispers those filthy words make another orgasm slam into your body. You cry out his name as your pussy pulses and leaks with your arousal, sucking his cock deeper into your hole.

“That’s it, honey. Milk this cock like it��s yours,” he groans into your skin, thrusting into your pussy until you’re crying out from overstimulation.

Taehyung smashes his lips on yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth. He bites down on your bottom lip before pulling away from you.

“That’s it, baby. Take all of my cum like a good girl.”

As always, you do as you’re told. Your pussy clamps down on once again, milking his thick cock as he buries it inside your messy walls. He moans against your skin as he slowly grinds into you, spilling thick ropes of cum inside you. The sticky heat makes your clit throb with arousal even as you’re on the verge of being overcome with exhaustion.

Taehyung places a gentle kiss on your temple before he pulls his softening cock out of your leaking cunt. He sighs contentedly as he slaps his cock down on your messy pussy. The wet splat sound makes you whine out.

“Tae, I’m sore.” You pout at him.

“Sorry, honey.” Taehyung sounds sincere as he fingers him cum back into your pussy. “Let’s get you in the shower.”

Taehyung’s heart lurches as you reach out for him. He scoops you in his arms and helps you to the bathroom, whispering sweet praises when he helps you step under the warm water.

At this point, he can care less that this will potentially drive his wife over the edge when she finds out. He was being completely serious when he said he’s not going to give you up. Taehyung can’t care about the potential consequences. He’s selfish, even more so than his wife. She knew this and still wanted to unify herself to him. That’s why he can’t be entirely blamed. After all, everything that is his wife’s also belongs to him. And that includes you.

[trappolia]

── PUT ALL YOUR FAULTS TO BED, YOU CAN BE KING AGAIN

leona kingscholar. the musings of the second prince, regarding the crown and his consort.

Some days, Leona thinks about what the word king means to him and how it links back to you.

Contrary to popular belief, he does not so easily forget the whispers of rumours behind his back; though, loathe as he is to admit, Leona knows that some are less rumour and more truth, no matter how spiteful. He is a prince, after all, and not some spoiled rotten child who has had compliments fed to him on a golden spoon.

Leona knows, better than anyone, that you deserve more than him.

He’s well aware of the fact that many perceive him as lazy, irritable and intimidating, and that is only saying the least. The perfect example of a student who has had to repeat a year way too many times, who is probably still in the world’s greatest magical academy because of his royal blood and noble connections.

The second prince is one way to describe him as well. Second to everything his brother does is also a possible description. Second to the throne, to their parents’ love, to the praise and glory befitting of a king; because Leona will never be king. not as long as his brother and his blood live, because Leona has always been the second option.

And so he acts like it. What else can he do? Surely he cannot try to usurp his own brother; Leona may be a better king than Falena, but he is also intelligent enough to understand the consequences of a coup, long-term or otherwise. Not to mention his nephew, who undoubtedly has the capacity to be a real pain in his ass if Leona ever does away with his father.

Now Leona spends most of his time bored and unpleasant to be around, not so unlike the whispers that circulated the halls of Afterglow Savannah's royal palace when his signature spell was discovered. It is when you find him, lazing around in the light of the sun creeping into the greenhouse (one of the only times he has ever felt that he has ever felt that he could escape from the shadows), and, for one reason or another, you decide to stay.

Leona hates it.

He hates the way you shine a light in his life. It’s too bright, too hot, and he can’t get rid of you no matter how hard he tries. And, at some point, he has become too scared to get rid of you. The underlying fear of losing that light, reduced to the shadow of a king and a crown prince that he once was; it kills Leona. It kills him because he was supposed to be a king, grew up wanting to be the perfect one to rule over the kingdom, and kings do not have weaknesses.

But Leona is not a king.

He is the brother of one, the second son of a royal family. With enough skills and intellect to survive in the battlefield that is the royal court of the Afterglow Savannah. He is born to a long line of kings, emperors, leaders; has learned from the stories of the great kings of the past, of which their blood courses through his veins; but he is not a king. Never was, and never will be.

But then again, who is to say that he isn’t a king in another sense?

"The only kingly thing you haven’t done yet is actually opening your eyes, Leona," Ruggie’s damned hyena laugh echoes in his mind, the mischievous smirk on his face while his eyes stay rooted to the pathetic homemade crown on his head.

Leona does not think Ruggie has the right to laugh, when he doesn't even understand.

Because even with his eyes closed, the second prince sees. He sees the way your breaths come and go, the warmth of the sun and the chill of the breeze on your skin, your quickening pulse and heartbeat. He sees it all without ever needing his eyes, and that is the exact reason why he doesn’t want to open them.

Because if he does, he will see you, backlit against the sun and light of the greenhouse you both visit so much, and then he will want more; you by his side in the kingdom of Afterglow Savannah, bathing in the morning light while wrapped in royal robes, the consort's crown on your head, your rightful place on the throne beside his. You cradling his cub in your arms, sweetly whispering to the result of your love, the future ruler and heir to the throne that is rightfully his. Leona knows that there is none other more deserving of a consort's crown than you, and he would kill anyone who tried to take it from you.

(He would kill for you in a heartbeat. No matter what the cost.

One day, Leona thinks, he will not be the only one to fear the extent of what he feels for you.)

But what murder is justified when the crime hasn’t even been committed? When you do not have the consort's crown, because Leona doesn’t even have the king’s.

(Child’s play; reaching for something he will never get. Leona is a master at this game, even when he loses every single time.)

Silly lion, you would chide him with a smile. Not for these foolish fantasies (for Leona would never admit them), but for the most mundane things. Being late to class, forgetting to do homework, getting detention, forgetting to go to that detention. Such simple, pathetic things, and Leona listens because you are his consort, and kings listen to their consorts.

(Pathetic, hopeless little fantasies.)

"Leona?" you call out his name, your voice the melody of his sweetest, softest, weakest dreams.

Leona's eyes flutter open, lashes brushing against his cheeks as he blinks in the light.

He sees you there, bent over to peer at his sleeping expression. The way your head eclipses the sun makes it seem like you’re wearing a halo (angel’s crown), and if Leona looks closely, he can see his own kisses tangled between your locks and the light.

He closes his eyes before he can meet your gaze, see your lips and everything else he has ever wanted. He will settle for sense and touch, if not for the sake of his sanity, then for you.

"What is it now?" he snarls, feigning annoyance. He hears you laugh, and Leona knows you see right through him.

Just give him some more time, then he will give you a kingdom, the world, and everything else you’ve ever wanted and deserved──

──but for now, this will be all he can offer you.

© trappolia 2024

[kentocalls]

endo yamato | slipping under this is all @bjorkshire-pudding's fault. was i supposed to stay absolutely normal after he pulls the pose below? nfsw. mdni. use of precious/angel/goddess. toxic ex (but he brings you down to light him on fire). would you like more from this? i have so much more to write.

you know he's there, you don't even bother looking now.  

the guy in front of you is the exact opposite of endo. your date has an  slicked back hair with a nice smile. he's speaking politely, ever the gentleman.  

if you had never, ever, met endo, you could give your date undivided attention. you could smile at his jokes, receive his compliments, feel the fire in your belly when he touches your hand softly,  but no. all you sense is the gloom and doom aura of endo as he sips, feigning innocence, on a melon soda.

you wait but endo does nothing,  sips the drink, eyes on you. 

he's stopped being loud and obnoxious. doesn't barge in when your date says something corny or touches your hand or scoots closer to you.  nope, all that is gone and replaced with this. drilling holes into the back of your dates head as he sits tucked away, hidden from view. eerily silent.

he does still text you tho. points out that this guy didn't let you order another pastry after you didn't like your original choice. and that this guy walks on the inside of the street like some careful kitten when you're the one that's worth diamonds. 

but that's okay, cuz if the date makes you feel happy and can fuck you better than endo,  he's fine with it. take your momentary pleasures, endo wants you to be happy after. he only ever wants you to be happy. he can tolerate you having playmates.  

he can accept you like being social, and that means you meet new people. he accepts you like to doll up and bat your eyelashes, it's game for you now isn't it? the way you ensnare everyone in your charm, your perfume lulling the undeserving, twisting them to your beck and call.

well, why this fucker isn't on his knees is beyond infuriating. 

endo clicks his tongue, clenches his teeth at how much your current date talks about himself. has the pig even asked about your day? bet he hasn't even complimented your jacket and earrings. did little piggy even on notice the color on your nails or the tiny rhinestones on them this time? 

why the fuck does he think talking to you about finances is more important? fuck an apartment on wall street when you're the goddamn whole view.   right there, in front of him. 

endo wonders if you're going to take pity on this blind pig. your date's tall, maybe he's packin', maybe he can take care of you like that.  since you won't use endo anymore. won't let endo be good for you like that.  fucking fuck the pig still talking about his portfolio?

what use is a portfolio if it's not full of sketches of your face? 

endo watches with a glare. you deserve the moon and stars and sky. you deserve a parade of praise and kisses and hugs and fuck fuck fuck, where are you going?

endo stands and follows, outside you give him the shortest glare, that lil annoyed look he understands as 'don't follow me.' 

he stops his right there. watches you get further and further out of reach. makes a call to one of his guys, "yeah just watch, report back to me. yeah every thing that happens. no not every five, every minute. you like your fingers? report every. minute. got it?"

you don't bother to look at endo when you're back in your apartment, he's sprawled all over on the floor, a bag of your favorite chips and soda sit at the coffee table behind him. he's munching on the same brand, watching your comfort show.  there's a smirk on his face but he doesn't make comment about the absence of the pig.

he knew that date was a disaster,  the guy tried to shake your hand instead of a hug or kiss? he said time spent with you was tialics just alright? who fuck would say that to a goddess?

you don't sleep well, endo knows it's because you're so wound up. use him, take what you need from him, he says it every hour of every day but nooo. that's not on the cards anymore because endo and you have "boundaries" because it's  "over" and you're  "not together."  

that he tripping your best friend at her wedding for what he considered was looking at you wrong was the final straw.  if he's honest, maybe he should've waited after she walked down the wedding asile to trip her but whatever, bitch had it coming.

she made your life hell under the disguise of bride of honor duties and endo knows scum when he sees it. you? the precious light of his life, you see the good in everyone.

you only saw the good in him too. 

and he believed in it, cherished it, harnessed it. made himself better because of it.  endo's changed, he doesn't smoke at least two days before he's gonna be at your place. no fights, no dirty shoes, clothes or hair. he is clean, soft, face well moisturized, pearly whites ready, lips buttery smooth --ready for your kisses, for your skin. he maintains himself for you.

he knows you notice, he's felt your hand on his face in the early morning when he feigns sleep when you're not rushing out of the door and accidentally stubbing your toe or hitting your elbow and he get's to hear the melody of your fuck fuck fuck. 

mornings like this, were you needy and the control slips. you allow yourself an indulgence, you're gonna blame the sleepy haze. that you weren't fully awake, it's his fault for crashing at your place unannounced anyways.  

entirely unnecessary, all endo needs to know, all he latches onto is that you dream of him. 

doing this with you.

so he behaves. the way the sunlight drips into your tiny apartment, he knows you're already running late. you're crawling roughly top of him,  less careful, less scared of waking him up. 

push your sweet and soft lips into his neck, curl a hand into his hair and pull. ohhh you're so mad at him. the delicious pain in his neck as you suck and bite, the slow undulation of your hips against his. 

still still still.

he has to stay so fucking still.

the second you know he's up, you're going to disappear. like trying to grab sand, if he grips, if he helps, tries to make the pressure better, you'll fade away. with no pleasure, no relief. all that energy, all that stress, all those pent up feelings dragging you down, snuffing out your laughter.

endo can't have that.

so he's extra still, let's you rub against him however you need, listens to you huff and moan and whine. you're trying to keep your mouth busy on his skin, biting, licking, teasing. you don't have to, you don't need to do this all on your own.

if only if only if only, hands itching, tongue heavy, its been weeks upon weeks, you're finally so close to him. you changed your shampoo. you wore the caramel perfume didn't you? it's scent even mixed with your skin.

and he's been so good this month, hasn't punched any of your dates, waiters or annoying people. hasn't even invaded your personal space.  hasn't held your hand, wrapped an arm around you shoulder or hugged you. hasn't stolen a kiss from you in days. 

fuck. your date had held you close in the movie theater hadn't he?  promised you a good time later and then what? settled for a goodbye handshake?  did that fucker even think to kiss you? did he even walk you back home? and now it's clicking.

your date made you feel unwanted didn't he?  that fucking pig.

why the hell is endo thinking of your date when you're the one moaning endo's name in an unsatisfied tone?

oh, his goddess, his princess, his queen. it's not enough, huh?  you've never enjoyed playing solo.  you keep moving against him, but it's barely building up isn't it? you need endo's hands on you, he knows. you want endo to do the work, don't you? he'd build it up so good for you too, doesn't he always? 

there's anger now, a shift in your tone and his eyes are open. why are you angry, what happened, he was here all night, protecting you from the world, why are you upset?

and it gets worse.

you pull away from, his hands weren't even on you for a full minute and you pull away, sitting, half straddling him. 

oh precious doll.

you're so tired. you didn't get the relief you needed, huh? stayed up all night, no wonder you're so frustrated.  let him take care of it, let him tend to you. and it's that hushed whimper, that shaky exhale, and his name on your lips. the quivering of the bottom of you lip, shame filling you with what you're gonna ask of him.

"endo..."  he won't let you, nu uh. just blame him after, that you were asking him to leve you alone, that you wanted him gone. it's fine, push all that on to him, it doesn't matter. as long as he can keep you happy, satisfied.

"i got you, i know, i know." and he's maneuvering you so smoothly. you move like water,  bending into whatever position he wants. fuck, you really need him. 

"that asshole was a let down right?" you don't want to know why he kisses you all tender and purposeful.  you don't want to know why he grips you enough to bruise. why do you like it? you look away, fuck. 

you broke up with him. 

your hands don't need to be pulling him in, your mouth doesn't need to crash into his, fuck he tastes like your toothpaste, smells like your skincare.

greed gets the better of both of you, messy, rushed, handsy. you feel him hard against you, that last bit of decency snuffed out, he's going to let you take what you want anyways, why stop at messy kisses and petting?  as he rolls his hips just right, your hand flies to his cock squeezes.   finger fumbling for the button of his jeans and endo, fucking endo-- pulls your hand away, kisses your palm, the knuckles, the finger tips.

"don't worry about that" inhales your protest away, kissing deep and hard, his tattooed hand in your hair, pulling you forward, relentless. he went a whole month without this. the softness of your lips, the wet drags of your tongue, the hunger you can't hide. the sounds you make, fuck.

his hand trails down, leaving goosebumps as evidence of his touch. the texture of his calluses hand sinful, he's so determined.  he's going to make you feel good.

he isn't a smartass about your wetness, isn't teasing and coy. moves his fingers deftly, has a crescendo to build before the sinster alarm clock drags you away from him.  he moves with finesee, knows your body so well, can tell the ache was unbearable. you're so wet for him. you needed him.

a taste a taste a taste, he wants a lick but stops himself, he'll have his fill after,  has to take care of you first,  encourages your sounds, nips at your lips when you try to hide them. he's not asking for much here, he's making you feel so good, isn't he? 

he gets to relive his favorite memory the second you grip his hair  harder and pull, the way your legs twitch, the drip of his name, the stuttering of your breath, the tightness around his fingers, the pulsing.  perfect perfect perfect. a goddess incarnate.

his goddess. 

yeah yeah yeah, you want a break.  you need to clear your head. this isn't healthy. you're so serious. 

but what is devotion without penance? 

part 2

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 00

next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989. 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargeeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got seven of them, yes seven.

..

MARCH 21, 2019

I have to be at least somewhat proud of myself for lasting this long. I thought as I sat on the bus, not everyday you are born with magical powers and are destined to save the world from evil. Yes, hearing myself think that sounds crazy. But that's normal in my life.

I had reached my stop after a half an hour of sitting with my earbuds in, listening to nothing at all. I just wanted to seem unapproachable on the sketchy city bus.

My destination was a terribly designed office building, the space was so crammed and ugly it made me want to turn right back around and get on that bus again. But I didn't because I was trying to convince myself that this would be good for me, but I didn't believe my words.

I was about to have a therapy session with some middle-aged white lady who has glasses and tell her all of my life issues, starting every week at 5pm..

It's not like I had anything else going on, I haven't had work for days now. So I thought I'd give it a shot.

The waiting process made me anxious as hell, I finally got the courage to walk up to the front desk and gave the man who sat there my name. And now I have to wait for this lady to get done with some other patient.

I sat on a chair and frowned, like she is really going to be focused on "my" problems and not the 30 other people she sees today.

I swear it was only a second into me zoning out when I heard my name yelled. "Y/n L/n? It's so nice to meet you!" A woman said, when i looked up at her i saw the exact lady i was describing earlier to the closest details.

I let her lead me to a smaller room that looked way better than the lobby. It had two chairs, a water machine, some fidget items and a large window view of the city. Gloria, I learn to be the name of my therapist, asks me to sit with her.

She clears her throat, "I know this is our first session so you may not be the most comfortable sharing details. But I'd like to know a little bit about you if you're okay sharing."

“Well, I’m 29 years old and a home care nurse.” I say slowly. Hearing the words leave my mouth I knew I haven’t amounted to a lot in my years.

"Oh wow, 29? I would've never guessed that Y/n, you don't look a day over 21" Gloria complimented me i give her a tiny smile in return.

I'm not sure why that is, I get that a lot in my working field. Older women saying that they wished they looked as young as me.

"That's a great start for today's session." She smiles, "A little bit me is, you know my name already but I'm 56 years old since Monday. I have 3 children and a cat named Mr. Furball."

I regret what i said earlier because I think I already like Gloria and not just because of Mr. Furball. But the fact that she has a calming sense about her. I find myself listening to what she's saying, and I rarely do that with people nowadays.

"But I would like to hear more about your upbringing, how’d you become the fine young lady you are today?" She says.

Oh, she wants to hear about my childhood. I mean I knew she would ask but so soon, I'm worried about saying anything. So I told her that.

"I'm worried about opening up to someone about my past cause well I've never done it before." I said.

She hands me a cup of water. "That's okay Y/n, we can take it at your pace."

“I grew up in a small house with my mom and dad until I was twelve. When I was scouted by Reginald Hargreeves because of my unique abilities. And I've been there ever since I was 18 when I moved out to live on my own.” I waited for the burst of confusion I was about to get from Gloria. Not everyday one of the Umbrella Academy walks into your office.

“Oh wow…” she says, eyes wide. “You're one of those superheroes? That’s amazing wow.” She nervously chuckles “I’m sorry I’m normally not this shocked about things, and I hear a lot on the daily.”

“It’s okay” I say, staring at my hands.

She clears her throat. “I'm sure being apart of the Umbrella Academy was big but could you tell me about your life before that?”

I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, pictured my childhood in my brain and opened my mouth.

"Well, I'm sure to this day my father still thinks that my mother cheated on him, due to his "daughter's" virgin Mary-like creation since they were just newlyweds. He held it against my mother all of her life." I took a sip of water and continued.

"I'm not sure why he turned to alcohol. But that turned out as you could expect. He turned on everyone around him and acted like a beast. He regularly attacked my mom for anything she did wrong. But what made him more angry was that his freak of a daughter could heal her mother, after every beating."

"My mom told me before I left I had made her so much happier and in her words. She didn't even question these strange occurrences; she knew her baby was special." I smiled a bit.

I could tell that Gloria was painting a picture in her head of what I was describing too.

"And by the age of 8, I was standing up to my father, even if it didn't end so well. I'd get the beating instead but by the next day, my bloody body would be as good as new. On the surface at least, I had lots of internal issues from that time. But none of that stopped my father from trying to get equal with me.." I stopped talking after that.

My eyes could only focus on my right hand as it was picking at my left hand's skin. It was a habit I picked up as soon as I started to use my powers because I knew my skin would be right back to normal in the next few minutes.

"That's awful y/n I'm so sorry." She frowned. "Would you be okay with continuing?"

I blink up at her. “Yes, that would be okay,” I said. “Then there was this one day..”

..

17 YEARS AGO

“In five, four, three, two. This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for channel 2 News outside of the Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

That was the big news update of September 2002, I remember. Well I don’t really have to think about it much because I was there with my mom at the bank. She planned on making some deposit when we were screamed at, not to leave by a man who had his gun pointed at us along with so many other civilians. He taped us up and told us to stand in a corner.

That was the first and only time I feared for my life. Police didn’t want them to start shooting, so they didn’t come into the building. Meaning that we were on our own and could die at anytime

One of the armed men walks into the scene unfolding. Sirens blaring, people getting shoved around and threats being made to the innocent.

“Now you’ve put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't want to do. Hmm?” He said talking to another person on his walkie talkie.

My mom brought me closer to her trying to use her body as a shield if things went south. And to us we thought they were about to be.

But strangely, a girl walked up to the man. She’d looked to be around my age in a school uniform and cartoon mask. Her loose curls bounced in the wind as she skipped up to him.

“Shit!” He screams putting his device down. Not noticing the girl until a few seconds after his outburst. “Hey, get back with the others.” He told her, trying to sound intimidating but she didn’t seem to fear him at all.

“I heard a rumor.” She spoke out.

He bent a little to reach her height and get in her face. “What? What did you say?”

She leaned in and cupped her hand to mimic whispering in his ear but loud enough for all of us to hear. “I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot.”

Without any hesitation he did what she commanded and shot the nearest armed man who happened to be trying to rough up my mom. We screamed as he kept shooting.

“We just heard shots from inside the bank. It’s uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that.”

“There’s some movement on the roof. Possibly law enforcement.”

A loud crash and a boy landed down from the roof. It was crazy he wasn’t harmed at all from that high distance. He was also wearing the same mask and uniform as the girl but he had blond hair. From where he landed he jumped on one of the robbers and started beating him to a pulp, and then throwing him out a glass window.

“Looks like one of the armed robbers had been thrown from the bank.”

Another boy with brown hair runs in from the opposite doors as the girl and yells. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He then threw one of his knives and it curved in the air hitting a robber no where close to where the knife had originally been heading. It was incredible.

“I've been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly.”

The original man hops on a table pointing his gun out at the two of the before seen children plus another one. “Get back you freaks” he says walking back and forth in fear.

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” The knife boy calls out.

“Get back now!” The man screams.

“Yeah, I wouldn't want you to get hurt.” The girls mocking voice says.

Right before my eyes another boy teleports behind the man, sitting criss-cross on the table. “Or what?” He said calmly.

The man turns around and shoots at him but before the bullets could hit he teleports again. This time standing up with his arms crossed, clearly not impressed. But the man tries to shoot again.

“Ooh! That’s one badass stapler!” The boy laughs. The man no longer had a gun anymore but a stapler placed in his hand by the kid instead. The boy shoves the stapler into his face and the big man falls back, head hitting the floor before his body does.

“Although there’s been no activity for a few minutes, we’re gonna stay live on location to make sure we don’t miss a thing. In this hostage situation at the Capital West bank.”

The five already counted for children make way for the last and shortest one to make his move. “Do we really need to do this?” He talks quietly.

The blonde one replies to him. “Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault.” So his name was Ben huh?

Ben sighs, “I didn't sign up for this.” Before walking into the room with more people. Large black tendrils illuminated the room as men screaming could be heard behind the door. And a beast roars but then the sound stops and Ben walks out again, this time covered in blood and guts.

He breathes heavily. “Can we go home now?” I felt bad for him.

The kids untied our hands and told us to run. And once it was clear to go my mom started to run out of the doors thinking I was right behind her.

“Now we see the hostages. They— They’re free. They’re scared clearly but they do seem to be unharmed.”

But I was behind her trying to help this older woman who’d slipped on the floor. As I was helping her, the kids walked out too.

“People are coming out now. It’s not the armed robbers. These are schoolchildren in uniforms with masks on. Jim Hellerman, Channel 2 News.”

But there was one not accounted for robber, the one from earlier who had been shot in the foot. I started to run out and call out to my mom who was outside. When the man got up from the floor, cocked his gun and shot at the kids.

Fortunately, he missed them but the bullet hit me.

Questions being asked to the children stopped when they saw my body flail onto the floor outside of the bank doors. I was shot right in the chest. There was blood everywhere and it started to leak over to where the kids were standing. They turned around to see where it was coming from..

Everyone looked horrified and there was a bunch of screaming. Mainly from my mother who was wailing as she ran over to hold me to her chest screaming for me to wake up. And that will be engraved in my memory forever after this day, I never wanted to hear her like this ever again.

Police started to rush over but in a matter of minutes, a miracle seemed to happen. At least to the city that is. There was a yellowish glow around my chest and the blood seemed to have reversed back into my body. Even the stains on my blue dress were gone. The bullet even spit out of my chest; it was truly witchcraft.

My eyes then shot open as I started to breathe in and out.

I don't exactly remember what I felt during those moments but I'm sure I left those people around me stunned. After all this was their first look at powers.

I couldn't care what the paramedics were talking about above my body. I was focused on the 6 children looking at me bewildered as well as the old-looking man with them and whatever my mom was saying at the time.

I was put on a stretcher and rushed to a hospital for evaluations after the pandemics came but they never found anything. It was like everything was perfectly reattached.

But as I was leaving I could see the news reporters zeroing in on the kids trying to get the details on how these children saved the bank from thievery.

“Our world is changing.” The man spoke to the crowd. “Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary.” He said looking back at the children. But they weren’t paying attention, some were staring at my ambulance and some eyes were on the ground.

“I have adopted seven such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

I now realize thinking back, the seventh person he was talking about was me..

..

PRESENT DAY

My mouth felt like it was moving faster than my brain so I took a pause and chugged the rest of my water cup.

Once again Glorias eyes were wide open. As she took some notes down in a notebook I never noticed beyond this point.

"Uh once I got home I remember the house phone noise filled my house with its nonstop ring, the other person on the phone would change my life forever when he came in.”

“And who was that person?" Gloria asked.

"Reginald Hargeeves, eccentric billionaire and caring father from what the public knew.." I rolled my eyes.

"So I'm guessing it wasn't really like that" she asked carefully.

"He was never a father really, more like a hard state-national basketball coach." She wrote that down.

"I guess it was a hard decision for my parents to make well, my mother. My father was ready to give me up as soon as Reginald stepped foot in my small house."

"And I'm sure they thought there was nothing bad about the offer they were given, he promised I'd be raised in a steady environment with the best schooling and my powers would be used for the greater good. And in exchange, my parents would get a large sum of money for my absence."

"What were you doing during this?" Gloria worried.

"I think I was just sitting right there next to my mom actually. I definitely didn't understand at that point what was happening to me. Still thinking about the events of that day.”

"And then I was being taken out of my only home in the blink of an eye. I resisted the people taking me, starting with screaming and then kicking and then running. Back to my mom's arms, Reginald himself had to pull me away from her. The deal had already been struck and there was no taking me back."

Now looking back at my hands I could only see small teardrops on my palms. Gloria reached for a tissue from the other side of the room. "Thank you," I said as I wiped my eyes.

"I like to think that my mom was upset that day but the memory has already started to fade as I reached adulthood.

You know after that day I was no longer 'Y/n L/n' no, I was known by my new name.. Zero Hargeeves."

..

I decided that was the end of my story, at least for now because I couldn't place the pieces together anymore. I was full-on sobbing at that point.

Gloria decided to bring up something more light to talk about next but I don't remember what it was because I'd zoned out and thought about the cat she'd told me about earlier.

The two hours seemed to fly by because the last thing I heard her say was if I didn't have anything else to talk about then that would be the end of the session. My legs seemed to move on their own as I walked out of that building. I would come back at the same time next week and honestly, I think therapy was for the best. I forgot about how I felt about all these things for the longest time.

I started the journey back to the bus stop, stopping to look in the windows of shops.

Shops like bakeries and bookstores and other things like that. Until I came to a stop in front of a store with a TV sticking out in the window.

My eyes scanned the screen and they went wide. The lady on the news had a somber expression as someone died. I was feeling sad for the person's family, but then I read the red-blaring headline.

The person who died was Reginald Hargeeves...

...

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[kislnd]

Please do some george dating headcannons babe 😘

dating george clarke~

tysm for the request anon!! i had a lot of fun making this, i hope you enjoy xx

-> his love language is definitely either physical touch or quality time. i feel like he would always want to be with you and would always much rather stay inside cuddled up with you over going out.

-> that probably also comes with a slight possessiveness, because he prefers to have you all to himself it would be hard for him to not feel jealous sometimes (but he would try not to show it because he would know it wasn't your fault).

-> such a gentleman - always opens every door for you, sometimes literally jogging ahead if he has too. would get so offended if you opened your own door without waiting for him.

-> absolutely does not let you do anything when you feel ill, he would insist on completing every task singlehandedly and if you try to do even the tiniest thing he would nag you to stop and would do it himself to save you any discomfort (& so you recover more quickly).

-> similarly, he knows exactly when something is wrong, like he has a sixth sense for you. always very attentive and trying to get to the bottom of the issue so it can be fixed. a very firm believer in 'a problem shared is a problem halved'.

-> i definitely think be would be the type of guy to plan dates for you so no matter how busy you are in your work or personal lives, you always have time set aside for each other.

-> loves to play with your fingers/hands, even absentmindedly. you would find him lacing his fingers into yours frequently, during conversations with others, when you're watching something, he would always want an excuse to touch you - but without inconveniencing you too much.

-> he remembers every little thing about you. sometimes it would even shock you, it could be something you had mentioned once in passing that you don't even remember, but he would know and if he could ever get anything you mentioned, he would give it to you. he might even have a note in his phone containing lists of things you like, maybe even your exact order at your favourite takeaway.

-> his camera roll is full of you - all kinds of pictures too - pictures together, candid ones of you, ones that you would really want him to delete but he doesn't because he loves them anyway.

-> he wouldn't let you be insecure for a single second, he would constantly compliment you and the moment you mention you don't feel pretty or anything like that he would immediately reassure you over and over.

-> he would text you as soon as anything reminds him of you (that's a lot of things) to let you know that he was thinking of you.

-> playful bullying - i feel like this is just in his nature and part of his humour. you could both have digs at each other without hurting each other's feelings, he would absolutely know where the line was and never would never cross it.

-> somehow manages to bring you up in every conversation with his friends to the point they tease him for being a simp. it wouldn't bother him though because he knows they're right and doesn't want to shut up about you.

-> despite teasing him, his friends and family really like you and think you are the perfect fit for george - simultaneously the female version of him but also very different to him.

-> would probably go feral like a teenage boy the second you wear anything slightly revealing, he wouldn't be able to get enough of you (this is a whole other fic i fear).

[oceandolores]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 | chapter 6

Dbf! Joel Miller x female reader

"𝘓𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦,"

summary: joel finally let him make a woman out of you, as you both now in this together, just you and him.

warnings: 18+ only, Minors DNI, AU, No outbreak. (TW) mentions of substance abuse/alcohol use disorder, adult content, religion abuse, violence, blood gore, mentions of death, sexual abuse, sexual content, domestic violences, ped0ph!l1a, cann1bal!sm, human traff1ck1ng, dad's best friend!Joel, HUGE age gap (i will not specify her exact age, but she's legal and Joel is 49), daddy issues, mentions of toxic family dynamic, Joel is widowed, Ellie is 16, angst, smut A LOT, forbidden relationship, soft and protective Joel, innocent and pure reader. your last name is Gibson. any other details will be explain throughout the story. inspired by the album Preacher's daughter by Ethel Cain and also mix with lana del rey vibes.

CHAPTER 6

masterlist of the series!

previous | chapter 5

next | chapter 7

Another week had begun its slow, inevitable march toward Sunday, the day of the dance troupe’s performance, and every day felt more intense than the last. You were drowning in rehearsals, schoolwork, and the looming graduation that was just weeks away. Every minute of your day seemed spoken for, filled with the weight of responsibility and expectation. But even in the midst of all this, you and Joel found ways to be together.

Late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, you’d sneak out of your window and meet him in the truck parked a few blocks away. Or he’d call you, his voice a low, comforting murmur as you curled up in bed, the house quieter without your father’s overbearing presence. Your mother, wrapped up in her own world, turned a blind eye to your late nights, allowing you more freedom as long as you kept up appearances during the day. It was in these stolen moments, with the world asleep, that you felt the pull between you and Joel growing stronger.

Being with him was like finding refuge from a storm. His presence calmed you, his voice soothed you, and his touch—those rare, fleeting moments when your hands brushed or when he held you close—ignited something deep inside you. You were falling for him, and you knew it. It wasn’t just infatuation or some fleeting crush. It was the kind of love that snuck up on you slowly, like a vine wrapping around your heart, binding you to him with every passing day.

Joel felt it too, though he struggled to name it. He’d never intended to fall in love again, especially not with you, so young and full of life. But there it was, this fierce protectiveness that had morphed into something much deeper. It was in the way he thought about you constantly, the way his heart twisted when he saw you smile, the way he ached for you in ways that scared him. Love had a way of finding him, even when he thought he’d shut the door on it for good.

Yet, neither of you spoke of it. The word “love” hung in the air, unspoken, because saying it out loud would change everything. So you let it linger, allowing the unspoken bond to grow, rich with possibilities and fears.

At the church, rehearsals were growing more intense with each passing day. Jemima was absent, ill with the flu, and it had spread like wildfire that she and Ben were expecting their first child. The news sent waves of excitement through the troupe, but it also left Ben in charge, his presence more pronounced now that Jemima wasn’t there to temper him.

You began to notice things about Ben that made your skin crawl. He wasn’t just watching you; he was watching all of the younger girls too, his eyes lingering just a little too long. He was full of compliments and encouragements, and while the other girls seemed to lap it up, something about it felt wrong to you. It was subtle—just a hint of something dark lurking beneath his charming exterior. But you could sense it, like the distant rumble of thunder on a clear day.

After rehearsal, you decided to stay behind in the church, needing a moment to yourself. The soft strains of gospel music echoed through the empty hall, and you let it wash over you, trying to clear your mind. Emma was there too, chatting away about the upcoming performance, and to your surprise, Ellie had stayed as well, snapping pictures on her phone.

“These are for the behind-the-scenes album I’m putting together,” she said with a grin, her camera clicking away as she captured the stained glass windows, the pews, the half-empty stage. Ellie had a sharp eye, always finding beauty in the mundane.

Just as you were starting to relax, the heavy oak door creaked open, and Ben walked in, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor. “Afternoon, girls,” he greeted, his voice smooth as ever.

“Afternoon, Ben,” you, Emma, and Ellie chorused in return, each in your own tone. Emma’s voice was bright and eager, yours polite but reserved, and Ellie’s—Ellie’s had a slight edge to it.

“You’re all doing great,” Ben continued, his gaze sweeping over you. “The routine is really coming together. I’m impressed. Just a few more adjustments, and you’ll be perfect for Sunday.”

Emma giggled, clearly pleased with his praise. “Thanks, Ben. We’ve been working hard.”

Ben smiled at her, and then his eyes settled on you, and you felt that uncomfortable prickle again. “And you, you’ve really found your rhythm. It’s good to see,” he said, his voice dipping into something softer, more personal.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Ben. Just trying to keep up.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Oh, you’re doing more than keeping up. You’re leading the pack. Really standing out.” His compliment was laced with something that made you want to shrink back, but you held your ground, refusing to let him see your discomfort.

Ellie, who had been quietly observing from behind her camera, stepped forward. “You know, Ben, the girls have been working really hard. Maybe you should give them a break and let them have some fun,” she said, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

Ben’s smile faltered just a fraction. “Fun is important too, Ellie,” he said smoothly, but there was an edge to his voice now. He turned his attention back to you. “Anyway, keep it up. I'll see you girls tomorrow for another practice," You and Emma nodded and say goodbye to him.

He lingered a moment longer, his eyes flicking between you and Ellie, before finally walking away, leaving the three of you in a heavy silence.

Ellie waited until he was out of earshot before turning to you and Emma. “Is it just me or something's off with that new Pastor?"

Emma frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Ben’s great. He’s just being supportive.”

Ellie shook her head, her expression serious. “Supportive, sure. But there’s something else. I don’t know, he just… he gives me the creeps.”

You chuckled softly as you bent down, cooling down your sore leg muscles after the intense rehearsal. “He’s just being nice, Ellie,” you said, glancing up at her with a small smile. “He’s new in town, and Jemima just got back here after years. Maybe he’s still adjusting.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, unconvinced. “Yeah, but still, something’s off. Have you noticed how he barely interacts with Jemima? It’s like they’re not even married.”

Emma, sitting nearby and stretching her arms, shrugged. “That’s not so unusual. They got married really young, and Jemima’s father pretty much arranged the whole thing. Sometimes that kind of marriage starts off with all the passion in the world, but then, over time, it fades. You get bored. What was once exciting becomes mundane, especially if you’re not with the right person. I just hope that doesn’t happen with Jim and me.”

Emma’s words echoed in your mind, and you found yourself lost in thought. You and Joel were in that heated, intoxicating phase where every touch felt electric, every glance held a thousand unspoken promises. But what if it didn’t last? What if the fire between you eventually died down, leaving only ashes of what once was? Could Joel grow tired of you, the way Ben seemed to have grown distant from Jemima?

Ellie noticed your distraction and nudged you gently. “Hey, you okay? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Emma turned her attention to you as well, her eyes curious. “Yeah, you’re awfully quiet. What about you and this new boy you’ve been spending time with? Have you tried, you know… to please him?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you shook your head quickly. “No, I haven’t. He said he doesn’t want to rush things if I’m not ready.”

Emma smiled warmly, her eyes soft with understanding. “Aw, he sounds sweet. Taking things slow is good.”

Ellie, however, wasn’t about to let the conversation end there. “Wait, who’s this boy? Jamie?” The mention of his name made your heart tighten, a pang of discomfort cutting through you.

Emma was quick to correct her. “No, not Jamie. She broke up with him. This one’s new.” Emma leaned in closer, a mischievous grin on her face. “She said she wants to please him, and you know… blow him.”

Ellie wrinkled her nose, half in disgust and half in amusement. “Gross! But seriously, who is this guy? You’re being so mysterious about him.”

You hesitated, the weight of your secret pressing down on you like a stone sinking in deep water. There was no way you could tell them the truth—not about Joel, not about the intense, forbidden love that had blossomed between you two in the shadows. Instead, you kept your tone light, trying to mask the storm of emotions swirling within you.

“So,” you began cautiously, your voice a little shaky, “what if there’s someone… someone who makes you feel everything at once? Like, when I’m with him, it’s like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and it’s terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating, like I could just… fly.”

Emma, who was a little older and more experienced in these matters, tilted her head thoughtfully. “That sounds intense. But in a good way, right? Like, you’re feeling things you’ve never felt before?”

You nodded, grateful for her understanding. “Yeah, exactly. But it’s also scary, you know? Like, what if I’m the only one feeling this way? What if… what if he doesn’t feel the same, or he’s just—”

Ellie, who was the youngest but no less insightful, cut in. “Boys are confusing. I don’t understand them half the time. But if he’s making you feel like that, it sounds like he’s important to you. Have you talked to him about it? Like, really talked?”

You sighed, shaking your head slightly. “Not really. It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure if I’m even making sense to myself. It’s like… when I’m with him, everything else fades away, and it’s just us. But then I start thinking—what if I’m just dreaming? What if he’s not really into me the way I’m into him? What if… what if I’m not enough?”

Emma leaned forward, her gaze steady and warm. “Love is a gamble, always. It’s putting your heart out there, knowing it might get hurt. But from what you’re saying, it sounds like you care about him a lot. And that’s not something to take lightly. The fact that he makes you feel like you’re flying… that’s something special. Don’t be afraid of it.”

Ellie, despite her inexperience, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, maybe I don’t get boys, but I do know that if someone makes you feel that way, you’ve got to go for it. But also… protect yourself. Make sure he’s worth it.”

You took a deep breath, their words comforting but not fully easing the uncertainty gnawing at you. “It’s just… I’m falling for him, I think. Really falling. But I keep wondering—what if he doesn’t catch me? What if I just… crash?”

Emma nodded thoughtfully, her eyes soft with understanding. "If he’s showing you that he cares, even in small ways, that’s a good sign. Maybe he does have feelings for you, but sometimes guys—especially older guys—are more complicated. They’ve been through stuff, you know? Past relationships, heartbreaks, things that might make them scared to fall again.”

You froze for a moment, realizing your slip-up, but quickly tried to cover it. "Wait, how do you know he's older than me? I never said that."

Emma smirked, raising an eyebrow. "You didn’t have to. The way you describe him—how he’s cautious, how he’s been through stuff—it’s not hard to guess. Sounds like he’s probably some college guy you met at a party or something.”

You bit your lip, Emma’s words hitting closer to home than she knew. Joel had his scars, that much you could tell. You’d seen the way he sometimes looked at you, as if he wanted to reach out but something held him back. The fear of history repeating itself, perhaps, of loving and losing all over again.

“But if he’s giving you mixed signals,” Emma continued gently, “it might be worth talking to him about it. Slowly, of course. Just… open up the conversation. Let him know how you’re feeling. Sometimes they just need a little nudge to be honest about what’s going on in their head.”

You sighed, thinking of Joel’s careful distance, the way he always seemed to pull back just when things got too intense. “I’m just scared, you know? We were talking about Ben and Jemima earlier, how things can start off so strong, and then… fade away. What if that happens to us? What if we’re so in love now, but then he gets bored, or… or realizes he doesn’t actually want me?”

Emma reached over, placing a reassuring hand on your arm. “That’s a valid fear, especially with what we see around us. But relationships are built on more than just the initial spark. It’s about growing together, working through the ups and downs. If you’re both willing to put in the effort, to communicate and be honest with each other, there’s no reason it has to fade. But you have to trust each other too.”

You nodded slowly, taking in her words. Trust. That was the foundation of everything, wasn’t it? And while you knew you trusted Joel with your life, trusting him with your heart was a different matter entirely. The idea of opening up that conversation with him, of laying your feelings bare, was terrifying—but maybe it was the only way to move forward.

“Just… take it one step at a time,” Emma added softly. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just be honest with yourself and with him, and see where it leads.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosening just a little. 

Ellie leaned in, eyes wide with curiosity. "He’s older? Just tell me who it is, c’monnn!"

You felt your heart race, a mix of panic and amusement bubbling up inside you. If only they knew who you were actually talking about. You shot Ellie a look, half-joking, half-serious. “Oh, if you found out who I’m talking about, you’d… you’d probably kill me.”

Ellie’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Now you have to tell me. Who is this mystery guy? Don’t leave me hanging!”

You shook your head, laughing nervously as you tried to steer the conversation away from the dangerous territory it was headed into. “Nope, not happening. But trust me, he’s… someone who cares a lot about me. And that’s what matters, right?”

Emma rolled her eyes good-naturedly, clearly amused by your evasiveness. “Alright, keep your secrets. But just know, we’re here for you, okay? If you ever need to talk… or if you just want to gush about how amazing he is.”

Ellie gave you a teasing nudge. “Yeah, yeah. But seriously, if he’s treating you right, that’s all that matters. If not, we'll kick his senior ass,"

You chuckled at Ellie’s playful threat, though the thought of her actually kicking Joel’s ass was beyond ironic. If only she knew the truth—she’d be horrified, not to mention utterly confused.

As the three of you wrapped up your conversation and began gathering your things to head home, you felt a mix of relief and longing. Joel had promised to take you to the night fair in Houston tomorrow, a rare escape from your daily routine, and the idea of spending the night at his Houston house afterward made your heart race. You’d already told your mom another carefully crafted lie, saying you’d be staying at Ellie’s for the night. Your mom never doubted you, never checked. She believed in the goodness of her preacher’s daughter, convinced that you were beyond sin.

Lately, you found yourself praying more, asking for forgiveness for the web of lies you were spinning, for the thoughts and actions that felt so dirty, so far from the holy path you were supposed to walk. You quoted scriptures to yourself, verses about purity and truth, trying to cling to some semblance of the person you used to be. But each time you whispered those prayers, guilt weighed heavily on your soul like a stone sinking deeper into a dark, endless sea.

As you stepped outside the church and said your goodbyes to Emma and Ellie, you felt a sudden chill. Just as you turned to leave, Ben appeared seemingly out of nowhere, making you jump.

“Oh, Ben! Lord, you scare me,” you exclaimed, trying to steady your racing heart.

He chuckled softly, an apologetic smile on his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to. Just finishing up some business with the church elders.”

You nodded, still a bit rattled. “I thought you’d gone home already.”

He shook his head, looking at you with those intense eyes that always seemed to linger a moment too long. “Not yet. I had a few things to take care of. Are you heading home now?”

You nodded again, more out of politeness than anything else. “Yeah, I’m walking this time."

"No ride from your friend today?" Ben asked again, "No," You answered, "He's busy," you smile at him politely.

Ben’s expression brightened, and he offered, “Do you need a lift? I’m heading to Burger King, and it’s on the way to your place.”

You hesitated, a little voice inside you whispering to say no. But you’d been raised to never refuse a kind offer, especially from someone who seemed to mean well. It was one of the many lessons your father had drilled into you.

“Sure, that would be nice,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Ben smiled, the corners of his mouth curling up, “Great. My car’s just around the corner.”

Ben’s car ride was quiet at first, an awkward silence settling between the two of you. You stared out the window, the streets passing by in a blur, trying to shake the unease that had crept into your chest. But the silence grew heavier, so you decided to break it.

“So, you lived in Mexico before coming here?” you asked, glancing over at him. “How long were you there?”

Ben’s face lit up at the question, the tension in the car easing as he spoke. “Yeah, I did. Jemima and I moved there right after we got married. I was a preacher there, too. The first year was tough—language barriers and all. But now I’m fluent in Spanish. Mexico… it’s an incredible place.”

He launched into stories about his time in Mexico, his voice warm and animated. He spoke highly of the country, describing the vibrant culture, the beautiful landscapes, and the deep faith of the people he ministered to. You found yourself listening intently, the charm in his voice almost infectious.

“You ever been to Mexico?” he asked suddenly, turning the conversation back to you.

You shook your head, a little embarrassed. “No, I’ve never really been anywhere.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. “You should go someday. It’s life-changing.”

As he continued to speak, occasionally cracking jokes that were surprisingly funny, you couldn’t help but notice how likable he seemed. He had a way of making you feel comfortable, his words smooth and reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing a bit in his presence.

Before long, you arrived at Burger King. Ben pulled up to the drive-thru and asked, “What do you want? My treat.”

“Oh, no, I’m good. Thanks,” you replied, not wanting to be a bother.

But Ben insisted, ordering something for you anyway. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” he said with a grin.

As you waited in the drive-thru line, he pulled out his phone, showing you photos from his time in Mexico. The images were stunning—vibrant markets, serene beaches, and old churches with intricate architecture.

“Wow, these are beautiful,” you murmured, genuinely impressed.

“Yeah, it was a special time in my life,” Ben replied, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

You couldn’t help but feel drawn in by his stories and the way he spoke of his experiences with such passion. Yet, beneath it all, there was still that small, persistent feeling in your gut—something you couldn’t quite shake, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

You listened to Ben’s words, nodding politely, but that uneasy feeling in your stomach only grew stronger. His tone had shifted, taking on the familiar cadence of the sermons you’d heard your father give a thousand times. He began talking about the girls in Mexico, how they were deeply religious, involved in church activities, just like you and your friends.

“It’s good, you know,” Ben continued, his voice warm with approval. “To have a group of young people who still believe in God and walk in His ways. Especially girls your age—this is the time when they’re most likely to stray, to rebel and search for themselves. Like your friend, Emma. How old is she?”

“She’s 20,” you replied, wondering why he was suddenly bringing Emma into the conversation.

Ben nodded thoughtfully. “So she’s the oldest in your dance group?”

“Yeah,” you answered, feeling a slight unease. You couldn’t help but notice that Ben didn’t seem to pay much attention to Emma, probably because she was older, and now that you thought about it, his attention had always been more focused on the younger girls.

“Girls around that age need God the most,” Ben said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “That’s when the temptations are strongest—sex before marriage, drugs, alcohol… it’s important to stay on the right path, to keep close to God.”

You nodded again, but internally, you were starting to feel a bit trapped, as if you were listening to one of your father’s lectures all over again.

Ben shifted the conversation to Ellie. “And how old is Ellie?”

“She’s 16,” you replied, wondering why he was so interested.

“Ah, Ellie… she’s a bit of a tomboy, isn’t she?” Ben remarked, a hint of disapproval in his tone. “Dresses like a boy… but, you know, girls should embrace their femininity, dress like girls. It’s how God made them, after all.”

His words made you cringe inwardly, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. His opinions were starting to feel like a lecture on how you and your friends should live your lives, and it was beginning to make you feel nauseated.

Then, suddenly, he looked over at you, his eyes lingering a little too long. “And you… how old are you?”

You tell him your age, trying to keep your voice steady. Ben’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. “You look younger than your age. Act younger too. I wouldn’t have guessed,"

The comment sent a chill down your spine, and you found yourself wondering why he was so focused on everyone’s age. Before you could dwell on it too long, the drive-thru window opened, and the employee handed over the bag of food.

“Here we go,” Ben said with a smile, taking the bag. The momentary distraction was a relief, but that uncomfortable feeling still lingered in the back of your mind, making you question why Ben was so interested in all these details.

Ben handed you the bag of food with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You took it, muttering a quick “thank you” as you tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in your stomach. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, with you staring out the window, lost in thought. The houses and trees blurred together as you tried to shake off the lingering discomfort that Ben’s questions had stirred in you.

Before you knew it, you were in front of your house. Ben pulled up to the curb and turned to you with that same smile. “Here we are,” he said. “It was nice talking to you. Remember, if you need anything, anything at all, you can reach out to me, okay? I’d be happy to help.”

You forced a smile and nodded, even though your mind was already halfway out the door. “Thanks, Ben. I appreciate it.”

As you stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that the conversation was over. You waved goodbye as Ben drove off, then turned and walked up to your front door.

Inside, the familiar smell of home greeted you, comforting in its simplicity. You found your mom in the kitchen, prepping ingredients for dinner.

“Mama, I'm home,” you said, setting the food on the counter.

She glanced up from her chopping board and smiled. “Hello, sweetheart. Who dropped you off?”

“Ben,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Ben?” your mom echoed, her brow furrowing slightly before she nodded. “Alright, then. Go get cleaned up, and then come help me with dinner, okay?”

“Okay, Mama,” you said, grateful for the chance to escape to your room for a moment.

You hurried upstairs, your thoughts still swirling from the strange conversation with Ben. As you washed your hands and face, you tried to focus on the routine, grounding yourself in the simple actions. But Ben’s words kept echoing in your mind, especially the way he’d looked at you, his questions about your friends, and the way he’d emphasized that you could reach out to him anytime.

A shiver ran down your spine as you recalled the way his gaze had lingered on you, the way he’d seemed to be sizing you up. You pushed the thoughts aside, trying to focus on the here and now, on helping your mom with dinner and the promise of a normal evening.

But even as you headed back downstairs to the kitchen, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something about Ben just wasn’t right.

***

Joel sat heavily on one of the barstools at Tommy’s place, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid caught the dim light, reflecting the turbulence of his thoughts. It had been a rough day, and he welcomed the soothing burn of the alcohol, hoping it might dull the ache of his internal struggle. Tommy, ever the supportive brother, poured himself a drink and settled beside Joel, the two of them sinking into the comfortable chaos of their late-night ritual.

Joel took a moment to catch his breath as he dialed Ellie’s number, the familiar, comforting weight of his phone in his hand. He left a quick voicemail, letting her know not to wait up for him, and that he had a spare key if she needed it. “Just lock up when you head to bed,” he said, his voice rough but warm. As he hung up, he turned his attention back to the whiskey, its amber glow mirroring the turbulence inside him.

The amber liquid seemed to dance in the dim light, reflecting the stormy skies of his mind. He took a deep sip, savoring the burn as it traced a fiery path down his throat. The warmth was soothing, but it did little to calm the storm raging within him. The ache in his chest felt like an endless ocean, where the waves were laced with memories and fears.

As he sat there, the world around him became a blur of muted colors and distant sounds. His thoughts drifted to you, the person who had entered his life like a sudden gust of wind through a cracked window—unexpected, refreshing, and profoundly unsettling. You were like a burst of sunlight breaking through the relentless clouds of his past, casting long shadows of doubt and hope across the landscape of his heart.

Joel had always been a man of walls and distance, his heart a fortress built from the rubble of loss and pain. After the death of his wife and daughter, he had fortified himself against the world, each brick a testament to his fear and grief. But you, with your light and laughter, had begun to chip away at those walls, like the slow, persistent erosion of the sea against a stubborn cliff.

He was beginning to realize the depth of his feelings for you, but it was like trying to catch a falling star with bare hands—beautiful, elusive, and fraught with danger. You had stirred something in him that he thought was long dead, a flicker of warmth in the cold expanse of his heart. It was as if you had reignited a fire that he had buried deep beneath layers of sorrow and self-preservation.

Yet, with every flicker of warmth came a wave of fear. Joel’s desire to protect you was intertwined with his dread of falling too deeply, of losing himself in a love that might only lead to more pain. He was terrified of opening up, of allowing himself to be vulnerable again. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down into the abyss of his own emotions, afraid to take that final step.

The night wore on, and Joel’s thoughts remained tangled in the delicate threads of his emotions. The whiskey continued to burn its way through him, a temporary balm for the deeper ache that lingered just beneath the surface. As he drank, he found himself grappling with the realization that, for the first time in a very long time, he felt truly alive—an unsettling, exhilarating sensation that both frightened and exhilarated him.

Tommy watched him, the lines of concern etched deeply on his face as he took in Joel’s introspective silence. “You alright there, brother? Something on your mind?”

Joel looked up, the weight of his feelings heavy in his gaze. “Yeah, just... thinking about things."

Tommy leaned in, his eyes steady and empathetic. The soft strains of “Helplessly Hoping” played in the background, its melancholic melody wrapping around the room like a comforting blanket. He adjusted the volume on his Bluetooth stereo, the music providing a gentle backdrop to their conversation.

“You can talk to me, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice steady and reassuring. “What’s got you so wrapped up in your thoughts?”

Joel took a deep breath, swirling the whiskey in his glass as he considered his response. The song’s delicate notes seemed to echo his own uncertainty. He knew he couldn’t lay everything bare—there were things he couldn’t quite put into words, and a person he wasn’t ready to reveal.

“It’s... complicated,” Joel began, his gaze fixed on the amber liquid. “There’s someone in my life who’s making me rethink a lot of things.”

Tommy’s interest piqued, but he remained patient. “Complicated how? If you need advice, I’m here.”

Joel hesitated, the words feeling too heavy to articulate. “I’ve been closed off for a long time. Lost my way after... well, after everything. And now... I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time. It’s like she’s pulled me out of this dark place I’ve been in.”

Tommy’s expression softened, sensing the depth of Joel’s struggle. “So this person, she’s important to you?”

Joel nodded slowly, his voice rough with emotion. “Yeah. She’s... making me feel alive again. But it’s not simple. I’m afraid of what it means, and I’m scared of letting myself fall too deep.”

Tommy took a thoughtful sip of his drink, considering Joel’s words. “You know, sometimes the hardest part is letting go of the past. You’ve been through a lot, Joel. But if this person is bringing light into your life, maybe that’s something worth holding onto.”

Joel glanced at Tommy, his eyes reflecting a mixture of hope and apprehension. “But what if it’s just a fleeting feeling? What if I’m setting myself up for more hurt?”

Tommy shook his head, his demeanor calm and grounded. “Nothing in life is guaranteed. But you can’t keep living in fear of what might happen. Sometimes you have to take a chance, even if it’s scary. You’ve got to ask yourself if the risk is worth the potential for happiness.”

Joel considered Tommy’s words, the song’s lyrics mingling with his thoughts like a haunting reminder of his inner turmoil. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy replied. “Love’s not easy. It’s messy and unpredictable, but that’s part of what makes it so powerful. If you’re feeling something genuine, maybe it’s worth exploring, even if it means facing your fears.”

Joel leaned back in his chair, the weight of Tommy’s advice settling over him. The whiskey had lost some of its warmth, replaced by a cold clarity that made his choices seem more imminent. “I just don’t want to mess things up. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Tommy clapped Joel on the back, a gesture of camaraderie and support. “You won’t know unless you try."

The room fell silent, save for the soft strains of the song and the occasional clink of glasses. Joel’s mind raced with the possibility of what could be, the fear and excitement warring within him. He knew the path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, he felt a glimmer of hope—a faint light guiding him through the darkness.

***

The night fair in Houston was alive with energy and light, a vibrant spectacle against the dark sky. As you and Joel arrived, the fairgrounds were bustling with people, the air filled with the sweet scent of cotton candy and the tantalizing aroma of various foods from the stalls.

Joel parked the car and you both walked hand in hand through the fair. The distant music of carnival rides and the laughter of children filled the air. Brightly colored lights illuminated the various attractions, casting a magical glow over the scene.

You and Joel started with the classic fare: fluffy cotton candy, crisp corn dogs, and a shared bucket of buttery popcorn. You laughed as Joel tried to guess which food would be the most calorie-laden, joking about how he was saving up for a “cheat day” in honor of the fair. The two of you wandered through the stalls, stopping occasionally to admire the trinkets and games.

At one point, you spotted the towering Ferris wheel, its lights twinkling like a cascade of stars against the night sky. You eagerly suggested riding it, and Joel, though hesitant at first, agreed with a soft chuckle. As the Ferris wheel slowly lifted you high above the fairgrounds, you marveled at the breathtaking view of the city below. The lights danced like fireflies, and for a moment, everything felt serene and perfect.

Afterward, you both ventured into the various game booths, trying your luck at the ring toss, shooting galleries, and more. Joel’s competitive spirit shone through as he focused intently on a ring toss game, and with a triumphant grin, he managed to win you a large, cuddly teddy bear.

You clutched the bear tightly, beaming up at Joel. “You did it! Thank you!”

Joel chuckled, the warmth in his eyes reflecting the festive lights around you. “I promised I’d win you something special, didn’t I?”

You hug him and then saw a photobooth, "Oh my god! They have photobooth, let's go, Joel!"

Joel followed you to the photobooth, his initial reluctance evident in the furrow of his brow. “Come on, doll. I told you, I don’t like my picture taken. I’m not exactly a fan of how I look in photos.”

You tugged on his hand, laughing as you pulled him towards the booth. “Oh, come on, Joel. It’ll be fun! And besides, we don’t have any photos of us together. I want to remember this night.”

Joel sighed, but the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Alright, alright. But don’t expect me to be smiling too pretty.”

Inside the photobooth, you both squeezed in, the cramped space adding to the charm of the moment. You set the timer and started with silly faces, pulling exaggerated expressions that made Joel chuckle despite himself. You blew kisses at him and cheekily tried to steal a few pecks, each one making him smile more genuinely.

Joel’s smiles grew softer, his eyes tender as he watched you. In the final frame, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, which prompted you to pull him closer. The moment turned more intimate, and you both ended up sharing a sweet, lingering kiss, captured forever in the final photo.

When the strip of photos emerged, you grinned at the sequence of images. Each picture captured a different facet of your shared joy and affection. You turned to the attendant and asked, “Do you have a pen?”

After receiving a pen, you carefully wrote on the photo strip, “Me and Joel. Houston.” You then showed Joel the photos, laughing as you did. “Look at these! They’re so cute. I’m keeping one for myself.”

Joel took the photo strip, his gaze soft as he looked at the images. “They turned out pretty good, huh?” He smiled, his tone warm and genuine.

You carefully folded one photo and tucked it into your wallet, a small keepsake of your time together. Joel slipped his into his wallet, keeping it close. “I’ll keep mine with me too,” he said, a hint of emotion in his voice. “It’s a nice reminder of tonight.”

As you both left the photobooth, the night air felt a bit cooler, but the warmth between you lingered. Joel’s gestures and the shared laughter had added a special touch to the evening. The fair had been a whirlwind of excitement, but it was these small, tender moments that made the night unforgettable.

As the night wore on, you both decided to head back to the house in Houston. The drive was filled with playful banter and comfortable silence. Joel’s excitement about showing you his latest project was palpable.

Arriving at the house, Joel led you inside. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

You followed him up the stairs to the master bedroom, the anticipation evident in his step. When you entered the room, you were struck by how beautifully it had been transformed. The walls were a rich, warm brown, and the classic-modern furnishings blended seamlessly with a touch of Southern charm. The bed was made with crisp, white linens, and the room was thoughtfully decorated with subtle touches that made it feel inviting and elegant.

“Oh, Joel,” you said, your eyes wide with admiration. “This is amazing. Did you really do all this by yourself?”

Joel nodded, a hint of pride in his expression. “Yeah. I figured if we’re going to be spending a lot of time here, it should be comfortable. We’ve been making do with the sofa in the upstairs balcony, and I didn’t want you to keep feeling cramped.”

You walked around the room, touching the smooth surfaces and taking in the details. “It’s perfect. I love it. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Joel’s gaze softened as he watched you. “I wanted it to be a nice space for us. You’ve been spending a lot of time here, and I wanted you to feel at home. This is our place now.”

You looked back at him, touched by his gesture. “Thank you, Joel. It’s more than I could have imagined. It feels like a real home.”

Joel’s eyes held a mixture of affection and vulnerability. “I’m glad you like it. It’s important to me that you’re comfortable."

You placed the teddy bear on the bedside and flopped onto the bed, the plush comfort enveloping you. You patted the space beside you with a playful smile. “Come on, join me."

Joel hesitated for a moment, then slowly shrugged off his jacket, placing it carefully on the chair. He set his phone and wallet on the nightstand, his movements deliberate and unhurried. With a deep breath, he settled onto the bed beside you, the mattress giving slightly under his weight.

The bed was indeed as comfortable as it looked, and you felt a sense of contentment settle over you as you nestled closer to Joel. He positioned himself beside you, his presence warm and reassuring. For a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift, leaving just the two of you in this peaceful cocoon.

Joel’s hand found yours, their touch a simple yet profound connection. He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting a blend of affection and introspection. “You alright?”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder. “Yeah, just... happy. You make me really happy. Thank you, Joel.”

Joel���s lips curved into a tender smile before he leaned in and kissed you. The kiss was both passionate and soft, a dance of longing and tenderness that spoke more than words ever could. It was as if in that single moment, you both were saying everything that words might fail to express.

When you finally pulled back, you looked into his eyes, your voice steady but filled with earnest emotion. “Joel, I think I’m ready.”

Joel’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Ready for what?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your words. “I’m ready for you.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, his expression shifting from surprise to concern. “Sweetheart, it’s okay if you’re not. I don’t want to rush you into anything. We can take our time.”

You shook your head, your resolve unwavering. “No, I’m ready. I’ve thought about it a lot.”

Joel’s gaze softened, but he was still cautious. “I want to make sure you’re absolutely certain. This is a big step, and I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

The more you talked, the more you felt a growing sense of frustration. You shifted away from him, sitting up and turning to face him, your emotions bubbling to the surface. “What’s wrong with you, Joel? Why do you keep pushing me away?”

Joel’s voice was gentle, trying to calm you. “It’s not that, darlin’. I just want to make sure you’re ready. It’s important to me that you feel secure.”

Your eyes filled with a mix of hurt and desperation. “Is it because I’m no longer a virgin? Because I’m not pure? Because of what Jamie did to me?”

Joel's eyes filled with a deep sorrow as he reached out to hold your hand, but you pulled away, your voice trembling with anguish. "What? Baby, it’s not that..."

Before Joel could finish, you cut him off, your words laced with desperation. "Because I'm dirty? Is that it?"

Joel's face crumpled with pain, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. It’s never been about you being dirty.”

You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to convey his feelings without causing you more hurt. “Then what is it? I need to know, Joel.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. “It’s about protecting you. You've been through a lot, and I’m scared of making things worse for you. I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to prove anything to me. This... this is about making sure that when we take this step, it’s because we both feel right about it, not because of anything else.”

Your heart ached with the raw honesty in his voice. “I’m not trying to prove anything, Joel. I just... I want us to be close. I thought we were ready.”

Joel’s hand reached out again, but this time you let him take it. His grip was firm but gentle. “I know you do. And I want that too. But I also want to be sure that we’re both in the right place. I don’t want to rush things and have you regret it. I care about you too much for that.”

The sincerity in his voice, combined with the tenderness of his touch, began to ease the tumult inside you. “I’m sorry if I’ve been pushing too hard,” you whispered, your voice softening.

Joel shook his head, a small, reassuring smile on his lips. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s natural to feel this way."

"But, Joel, I'm ready. You won't hurt me." You said, trying to let Joel know how much you trusted him.

Joel hesitated, searching your eyes for any doubt. "Are you really sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, taking his large hand in yours, marveling at the size difference. Slowly, you brought his hand to your lips, kissing it gently. Then, you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking it slowly. Joel’s breath hitched, and you could see the desire in his eyes.

He leaned in, his lips brushing yours tentatively. The kiss deepened, and you felt a warmth spread through you, a feeling of being completely and utterly connected. As the kiss grew more passionate, you both slowly began to undress, your clothes falling away like the petals of a flower, revealing the soft, delicate parts of yourselves.

Joel’s touch was gentle, his hands exploring your body with reverence. Every caress was like a whisper of devotion, his fingers tracing patterns of love on your skin. He kissed you again, his lips moving from your mouth to your neck, to your collarbone, each kiss a promise of his love and care.

As Joel carefully helped you remove your dress, your scars were now fully visible to him. His eyes took them in, and you saw the mixture of sorrow and anger that flashed across his face. It broke Joel's heart to see what your father had done to you, and a deep anger simmered beneath his gentle exterior.

You opened your mouth to speak, to tell Joel how ashamed you felt, but he cut you off, his voice firm but tender. “There’s no need to be ashamed about it. You are beautiful, you are gorgeous to me.”

His words were a balm to your soul, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. Joel’s hands were steady as he continued to undress you, his touch filled with a mixture of gentleness and determination. He seemed to understand the depth of your vulnerability, treating you with the utmost care.

Joel seemed like the kind of guy who talked you through it during sex, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of your anxiety. “You’re safe with me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve got you. We’ll take this slow, okay?”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. Joel’s hands continued their exploration, his fingers tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your heart ache. He was so careful, so deliberate, as if he were afraid you might break beneath his touch.

He reached for a condom, his actions slow and deliberate, ensuring that everything was as safe as it could be. “I’ll be gentle,” he promised, his voice a low murmur. “We’ll take this at your pace.”

You nodded again, your trust in him unwavering. As Joel moved above you, his eyes locked onto yours, you felt a connection that went beyond the physical. It was a melding of souls, a deep, unspoken bond that made you feel cherished and adored.

Joel entered you slowly, his movements careful and measured. You moaned as he growls. The sensation was different. There was no pain, no fear, just a deep sense of intimacy and connection and pleasure.

Joel’s voice continued to guide you, his words a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “You’re amazing.”

Every movement, every touch, was filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. Joel’s hands were everywhere, caressing your skin, holding you close, ensuring that you felt nothing but love and care. The rhythm of his movements was like a dance, slow and deliberate, each motion a careful expression of his devotion to you.

His hands glided over your body, memorizing the feel of you beneath his fingers. He took his time, his touch gentle yet firm, grounding you in the present moment. His lips followed the path of his hands, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

As he moved within you, the initial tension melted away, replaced by a growing sense of pleasure and intimacy. Joel’s eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with love and reassurance. Each thrust was measured, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm that built a slow, burning heat between you.

"Oh, Joel," you moan as he keep thrust inside you, your back arched, your eyes rolling deep to above. "Fuck, you're so tight," he cursed.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered, his voice a soothing murmur. “You feel so good.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding to the sincerity and warmth in his tone. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, needing to feel the solid weight of him against you. The connection between you deepened, each movement syncing perfectly with the other, creating a beautiful harmony.

Joel’s breath was warm against your ear, his voice a low, steady murmur of encouragement and love. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. You’re perfect.”

The way he spoke to you, the care in his touch, made you feel cherished and adored. The pleasure built slowly, a rising wave that grew stronger with each gentle thrust. Joel’s hands found yours, intertwining your fingers, creating a bond that felt unbreakable.

His pace quickened slightly, you felt amazing and wanting for more. As the heat between you intensified, your hands found their way to his back, clutching him closer.

"Joel..."

"Oh my god, Joel,"

Your voice filled the room, moaning his name and calling out, “Oh God, please.” Joel’s eyes darkened with a mix of passion and determination.

“God’s not here, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “God’s not here to save you this time.”

The words sent a thrill through you, and you felt your body responding even more intensely. The feeling was almost overwhelming, and you begged him to go faster. Joel obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, each thrust deeper and more powerful.

The sound of the bed creaking added to the symphony of your shared pleasure, mingling with the moans and groans that filled the room. The intensity of the sensations building within you was almost too much to bear. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, every fiber of your being focused on the incredible feeling Joel was creating inside you.

Joel’s breathing grew ragged, his own moans mixing with yours as he drove deeper into you. “You feel so good,” he cursed under his breath, his voice raw with need. “So tight, so perfect.”

The rhythm of his thrusts was relentless, each one driving you closer to the brink. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back as the pressure built, a wave of ecstasy that was about to crash over you.

“Joel...I’m close,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as the sensation peaked.

Joel’s grip on you tightened, his movements becoming almost frantic as he chased his own release. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice a desperate plea.

With a final, powerful thrust, you felt yourself shatter, your climax washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure. Your body tensed and then released, a cry of ecstasy escaping your lips. Joel followed moments later, his own release tearing through him, a groan of pure satisfaction as he found his pleasure within you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the mingled breathing of you and Joel as you lay intertwined. The intensity of what you had just shared left you both breathless, your bodies still connected in the aftermath of your shared passion.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His hands gently stroked your back, a soothing gesture that made you feel safe and cherished. “You are amazing,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness. “So beautiful.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with the love and connection you felt with him. “You too,” you replied softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, his touch tender and loving. “Thank you for trusting me,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours with a depth of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.

You nodded, the words you wanted to say caught in your throat. You have to say it, you need to say you love him.

Taking a deep breath, you cupped his face in your hands, looking deep into his eyes. “Joel, I... I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling with vulnerability and sincerity.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Joel’s eyes widened slightly, and then softened with an intensity that took your breath away. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if committing the moment to memory.

“I love you too, baby,” he replied, his voice husky with emotion. “More than you’ll ever know.”

The words wrapped around your heart, filling you with a warmth and security you had never felt before. Joel’s lips found yours again, this time with a deeper, more fervent kiss, a promise of his unwavering love and devotion.

As the kiss deepened, you felt a sense of completeness, as if everything in your life had led to this very moment. The love you shared was a balm to your soul, healing wounds you had long thought would never mend.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but the connection between you was stronger than ever. Joel rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, savoring the closeness.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead. “No matter what.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the truth of his words settle deep within your heart. “I know,” you whispered back, your voice filled with quiet certainty. “And I’ll always be here for you, too.”

With that, you both drifted off to sleep, your hearts and souls entwined, ready to face whatever the future held together.

[uglypastels]

Hey can you do a coffee shop AU ab Gambit where the reader works at the shop Remy frequents? But one day there’s an attack and her mutation manifests?? Love your writing!

stick with me as I try to figure out how to write his accent lol. it's just a quick and fun lil thang but i hope you like it. [also, is this my first ever coffee shop au?? it might be. don't quote me on that tho]

warnings: slight cursing. supervillain attack.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Will that be the usual, Remy?’ You already pulled out the paper cup to write his name and order on it, looking up expectantly for him to confirm your suspicion.

‘You know it, chere.’ 

‘One cafe au lait, coming up.’ You chirped with a smile, noting it down on the side of the cup. Like the well-oiled machine the two of you have become over the past weeks, he didn’t need to hear the price and just slid a five-dollar bill across the counter and pushed another exact bill through the slit of the little tip jar next to the register.

‘Well, you know,’ and just like any other time, you couldn’t help but comment on his generosity, ‘you really don’t have to do all that. It’s just coffee.’ As much as you appreciated his gesture, a twinge of guilt struck you as he practically paid double for what already was an overpriced beverage.

‘It ain't for the coffee,’ he smirked, which, with a flash of heat, immediately radiated onto your cheeks. It all happened like clockwork, and so you reminded yourself that that’s just who he was.  You were sure he did it with anyone, so you mustn’t let it get to you. To not get too hung up over a customer who made it a habit throughout his day to flirt with his barista.

‘Here ya go,’ you presented him with the drink. 

‘I donno how you do it, belle,’ Remy said after his first sip, a satisfied expression spreading over his face. ‘Perfect. Evry time.’

‘Why, thank you.’ You reciprocated his smile, but really, it was no big deal. You were just doing your job—something that was only easier considering your talents. Practically being a human heat conductor made preparing a perfect cup o’ joe fairly simple. Still, when a charming Cajun walked into your establishment and showered you in compliments on a nearly daily basis, the effect might have been a bit stronger than a one-off comment from a stranger. No matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to deny his allure. 

For a Tuesday morning, the café was surprisingly clear of customers besides a couple of taken tables at the windows, where some early birds had begun their day by reading the paper or getting a headstart on their work. And so, with no line rushing him off behind him, Remy sipped his coffee right by your side. 

‘Say, don’t you have somewhere else to be, Rem?’ you teased as you wiped the counter.

‘With a beautiful lady righ in front of me, there ain't nowhere I rather be.’

‘Oh, shush, you.’ You tried to ignore it, but the steam coming off from the once wet handtowel you used to clean was saying differently. Both of you were about to open your mouths, the snarky banter already dripping from both your lips, but that all faltered as the ground beneath you shook. The soft ambience brought on by the instrumental music playing in the background over the speakers was overrun by the aggressive shaking of all the products and measuring jugs falling to the ground. But soon, even that was silenced by the screams that followed. A stampede of morning commuters was running through the street, eyes wide and pale with fear. 

‘What the–’ you muttered out, carefully making your way to the window. Perhaps not the smartest move, but the curiosity had gotten the better of you. And it sure had; as right as you had reached your lookout point, all your senses were thrown off guard by an explosion. The world around you turned upside down— or was that just you as you were thrown off your feet and across the room following a million pieces of shattered glass? 

You were ready to fall into the puddle of shards, but instead, you were met with the hold of two strong arms, and once you dared to open your eyes, you saw a pair of glowing red ones. 

‘You alright?’ Remy put you down on the ground. 

Still, in shock, all you could respond with was a nod. You watched as Remy made his way across the glass-covered floor, calling out to the fear-stricken people in the café. 

‘Is gonna be all right, everyone.’ He helped a lady get back up on her feet and make her way to the back of the room. ‘Stay inside. Get z’away from the street.’ And even though you wanted to listen to his command, you found yourself walking back towards him. 

‘What are you doing, cher?’ With his hand on your shoulder, he held you back from taking another step. 

‘I wanna help.’ It was clear enough to you that he was about to fight whatever it was that was scaring all those people outside, and there was no way in hell you’d let him go out there on his own. 

‘Do you even know what you’re up against?’ 

‘Do you?’ you hit back, and that response clearly pleased him. The worry on his lips turned up into a smirk. So, the barista had a spark to her. It didn’t surprise him, necessarily. If anything, the excitement from seeing this side of you sparked a rush through his whole body. 

Side by side, you ran out into the street, avoiding the last few incomers who were trying their best to escape whatever it was you were about to greet. And what that was, you soon found out. All you had to do was look up into the sky.

‘Le Bon Dieu.’ Remy cursed under his breath.

‘Damn.’ You gasped at the sight of what you could only describe to be a giant robot floating above the tall buildings. Eyes glowing with a fire that burst in jetstreams of destruction.

Perhaps you were way in over your head, getting into a fight with a steel giant, fighting with a nearly complete stranger, and yet, when you looked up at him, and your eyes met, you had a feeling that you’d be just fine.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

HIIIIII :>

Can I please request Ben, Puppeteer, Masky, Liu, and Ej with a s/o that has a HUUUGE hello kitty obsession?? Like room is COVERED in hello kitty plushies and all that fun stuff

Summary: Ben, Puppeteer, Masky/Tim, Liu and Eyeless Jack whose s/o is obsessed with Hello Kitty (headcanons)

Genre: Fluff!!

Warnings: None!

A/n: IM SO OBSESSED WITH SANRIO MY FAVORITE CHARACTER IS POMPOMPURIN I HAVE THIS GAME ON MY PHONE CALLED HELLO KITTY FRIENDS AND I KID YOU NOT IM SO OBBSESSED WITH THAT GAME THAT WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES TO TRY AND SLEEP I SEE THAT STUPID FUCKING GAME WAHHHHH

Credits: Ben Drowned- Creepypasta, The Puppeteer- Creepypasta, Tim Wright/Masky- Marble Hornets, Homicidal Liu- Creepypasta, Eyeless Jack- Creepypasta, Divider- benkeibear, Pictures- Pinterest

Ben Drowned

Honestly he can't say anything because he's obsessed with Hatsune Miku

He claims its Ironic, but it very obviously isn't

But his obsession with Miku (and vocaloid in general), is NOTHING compared to yours

He loves it though, because it gives you a cute dynamic

Every time he sees anything sanrio related, he thinks of you

It doesn't even have to be Hello Kitty specifically, just any sanrio product

And of course, he HAS to get it for you!

You've gotten sodas, plushies, snacks, earbuds, bags, even wipes

Because of Ben, you have almost anything in a Hello Kitty styled packaging

He likes to "trade" obsessions if that makes sense

For example, you wear a vocaloid shirt and he wears a Hello Kitty shirt

Complimenting each other's interests makes him so happy idk

And he DEFINETLY has some form of Hello Kitty merch himself

Whether it be something that you don't like any more, something you just don't have room for, etc, he has SOMETHING

And it makes him so giddy to know that a little bit of you will always be with him no matter what

Jeff makes fun of him for wearing your old Hello Kitty backpack, but he doesn't care because it smells like you, and it carries everything he needs so perfectly <3

He lobes his hello kitty partner

God forbid you break up, because ANYTHING Sanrio related will send him into a meltdown (fucking weirdo)

The Puppeteer

He's a very obsessive lover, so anything you like, he likes

When he sees your Hello Kitty obsession he immediately begins his research

He will learn all Sanrio characters, all characters closely related Hello Kitty, any lore in the universe, official merch, etc

He will fr pull up dripped tf out in hello kitty merch

The shoes, the pants, the shirt, maybe even a hat

You will giggle and kiss his chin, asking what he's doing

And he will shyly ask if you like it teehee

Your obsession is now OUR obsession

Well, with him it's less obsessed with Hello Kitty itself, more so him obsessed with whatever he thinks will make you like him more

You will literally be cuddling or just hanging out and he'll quote hello kitty to impress you

He's trying his best ok, just kiss him and tell him he's doing good

Masky

Your obsession kind of scares him

Not like, in a "omg this is so unhealthy :(" way, because he literally couldn't care less what you're into

He just gets scared of all the DOLLS

Oh my lord the amount of hello kitty dolls you have freaks him out

It's something about how all of them are the exact same thing, just over and over again

The sheer amount of them combined with the similarities between the dolls just weirds him out and gives him a chill up his spine

Good luck getting him to come into your room

He will refuse to unless you're like, sick or something

Other than that, he will not tolerate it

And this is a brave guy! He doesn't typically get scared of dolls, but idk man hello kitty just ain't it

Despite all this, he still loves getting you gifts with Hello Kitty

He knows how much you like it, and just because it freaks HIM out doesn't mean he's gonna not allow you to enjoy it

He won't actively participate in wearing merch like the other guys

He's definetly more of a "hold your plush bag while you go to the bathroom" type guy

Sorry pookies :(

Homicidal Liu

He doesn't get quite as into it as other's on this list might

He's more of a "Oh well I'm happy you've found something that makes you happy :)"

If you asked him to do something like match outfits he'd accept though!

He loves getting to do things like that with you, little stuff but it makes you both happy

He gives all your plushies different names and personalities

Maybe if you ask him nice enough he'll knit them little clothes and scarves...

He also loves to use the plushies to get what he wants

For example, if he wants to go out with you and you say something along the lines of "but im so tireeed" he'll grab a Kitty plush and begin "talking" to it

"Do you hear this? They say they're too tired to go get yummy food with me" He'll lift the toy up to his ear, nodding as if it's whispering something to him before going "I know! I was thinking we could go to their favorite restaurant too! Such a shame"

You'll scoff and roll your eyes playfully, while he brings the toy to your face making obnoxious kissing noises as if the toy is kissing you

Once your laughter fit dies down, he'll ask if you really just wanna stay home or go out

He will happily accept whatever response you give

Eyeless Jack

He is a lot like Liu when it comes to your obsession

More so just a "Oh good for you :)" type guy

He loves to just show up with random things

For example, he will knock on your door before opening it, and silently waving around a little trinket he thought you'd like

He loves seeing your face light up as you rush to come get the gift and kiss him over and over

It makes him feel extra giddy when he "earns" kisses

So expect a lot of gifts

And if you don't give him a kiss one time, he will pout until you do kiss him

grrr give that boy a smooch he loves them

[dogwithrabies]

【★】 gn reader but described as afab, kinda mean scara, reader is a masochist lol

【☆】 ignoring the fact that i disappeared for like 8 months, hi, new thingy (reup)

word count: 4.3k

There’s no coming back from those offices. Everyone knows that, it’s like an open secret between the ranks of the fatui.

One gets called in for a “little chat” and then just disappears, there are no deserters allowed in an organization like this. Too many secrets.

The lower ranking soldiers always gossip about whoever the next one is gonna be, it keeps everyone on edge, just one measly mistake in front of a general, or worse, a harbinger and it’s over. It doesn’t help that other privates will often turn on eachother, reporting their comrade’s mistakes to get on their supervisor’s good side, in a sense, the fatui has eyes everywhere.

Your days of walking on eggshells are long over, thank the Tstaritsa, but it doesn’t mean you’re completely safe either. Being a general yourself, you’ve been faced with many hard decisions, sometimes covering up the mistakes of a soldier, sending back touched up reports hoping no supervisor will notice any discrepancy.

“Your empathy will come back to bite you in the ass”.

It’s a sentence the Balladeer threw your way once, it wasn't advice out of the goodness of his (non-existent) heart. Matter of fact, he didn’t even spare you a glance before walking past you, on his way to scold another soldier. How stupid, he must've thought, sharing your already scarce meal with a tiny bird that sought refuge under the shadow of your feet.

But you just can’t help it. In your early days you could only pray someone spared you the same kindness you give out now.

But that was a long time ago. You went on many other expeditions in the Balladeer’s team, somehow always managing not to fess up and prove yourself worthy of your role. It was a noteworthy achievement, after all his bad temper was notorious to anyone who spent even a few minutes in his presence.

The Balladeer does not go out of his way to compliment anyone, flattery is not his style. Just the absence of any reprimand is more than enough to tell you you’re doing good.

However, that does not stop you from wasting time fantasizing about such scenarios.

“You’re doing good.” What a dream it would be to hear that. “You’re being good.”

But the image you have of him in your mind is a far-fetched, rose-tinted version of the one in front of you now. You’re not as stupid as to warp his essence into anything even remotely kind. You know of his temperament, sometimes you’d even go as far as to think he’s not even human.

During an expedition, he slapped a soldier once. It was late in the evening and some soldiers decided to let out some steam with a few drinks. It just so happened that one of them got a little too… feisty.

But the Balladeer did not let go of his face. He just kind of stared at the red mark his hand left, squishing the fat of his cheeks in some weird torturous ritual, moving the skin around to admire the shape of the coagulated blood under his skin. He was so close he could feel the shaky breaths of the poor guy fanning on his face.

He relented only once he was satisfied. He enjoys the fear in people’s faces. No, fear is just an expression, it’s the pure terror that spreads in someone’s whole body that excites him.

He can tell the exact moment when someone switches from being scared to dreading losing their life.

It’s something you’ve seen several times yourself, never hesitate, to end someone’s life. Hesitation makes you waver, staring at someone’s eyes makes you acknowledge that they’re scared, they’re human.

He never wavers. Hm. He’s either incredibly cruel… or just above your kind? You take a mental note of that.

The first thought excites you, that tiny familiar buzzing feeling running down your spine.

It’s so unfair.

No, that’s not right, you quickly shake that thought off. Who would ever dream of being at the receiving end of the Balladeer’s ire?

It’s not the first time you find yourself spiraling that same line of thought. But he’s just so pretty.

You suppose that in order to make it out alive of his squadron one needs to grow tough skin, tolerating his humiliation tactics and aggressions. You just never thought you’d develop a liking to that.

How the mighty have fallen. You used to be so respectable.

You can’t even begin to picture his disgusted expression if he found out that deep down, a part of you hoped he would lay his hand on you.

Or if he knew how many sleepless nights you spent rubbing your thighs together, trying to get rid of a heat that just wouldn’t go away.

Or, additionally, if he knew that the first thing you did in your new private (perks of being promoted) room was to disregard your clothes and immediately push your fingers in your aching needy cunt. Thinking of him.

How absolutely shameful. You wonder if your stay in the fatui awakened something in you. Or maybe you were always like this.

But you’re always so composed. And your fatui mask covers any blushing on your face;

No one would be able to detect your attraction to him based on your behavior.

After all, it was very common to hear creaking sounds at night. That’s just what happens when you force young adults in a shared room together. People just turn the other way. Ignore the sound and go to sleep.

You feel yourself getting warmer at the sight of him walking towards your squadron.

It’s another of those annoying training sessions, you don’t have to participate, just surveil the cadets. It doesn’t fall within your assignments, it’s your Lord Balladeer’s job, but he so kindly sacked you his responsibilities. After all, he’s above watching insignificant men stumble in knee high snow.

But you’re just so distracted.

He’s sitting on a chair with a tiny table in front of him, quickly skimming through huge piles of paper. The huge fur of his coat shields his face from your view (a shame, he looks so cute when concentrating), but he’s not covering anything else. His tiny shorts slightly hike up his legs as he shifts to put one leg over the other, revealing even more skin.

Just how is he not getting cold?

You huff, your breath crystalizing in front of you, forming a tiny mist as if proving your point.

It’s freezing. And he’s out there with his usual attire. Not that you’re complaining, you always had a thing for his legs. Always looking at the way they crease and shift on his thighs every time he crouches to look at something. You always watch him with such an intense gaze.

It’s not weird. It is your job to ensure his safety after all.

Not that he needs it. You’ve seen him in combat, not many enemies survive after the first shock of electro.

It’s scary. It’s exciting.

He also uses it to correct small mistakes. He’s shocked you once after you almost tripped while serving him tea.

It was tiny and barely audible but your finger spasmed in an uncomfortable position, and then it was over.

He let out a humorous hum at your shocked expression, then quickly dismissed you.

You spent the rest of the day thinking about that small encounter.

Thinking about all the other ways he could use his shocks on you. Maybe they could simulate the effects of a vibrator (just a slightly painful one). You’re not allowed to bring anything with you when you join the fatui. And using your hands or humping your pillow always leaves you yearning for more.

So lost in thought. You didn’t even notice the way he was staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Not anger, not disappointment, something more akin to… disbelief.

He knew you would cover up your underling’s mistakes sometimes, he couldn’t be bothered to call you out on that. But to let so many incompetent cadets trip on the same wall, face-planting on the snow and mud without even taking note of that? Right in front of him?

Were you hoping he was too busy with his papers to not notice that, or are not even paying attention?

Your tendency to sometimes space out is something he was very aware of. But you never actively slacked off on your tasks. This is new, not unexpected but new. You were bound to disappoint him, after all, it is in your nature as a human. He needs to stop this before it becomes a habit and gets in the way of his work.

He quickly calls some other general to take your place. You barely register when he calls your name. His voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up in shivers.

“Come.” He firmly says before walking off the training grounds.

You hesitate for a second, your eyes focusing back on the view in front of you. Your lord wants a word with you? Just how deep in thought were you to not even notice him staring holes in your back? It can’t be any good.

You follow after him, catching up with him and watching the back of his coat sway with each step.

The inside of the palace is just as cold as the outside. The only relief a fatuus gets is the mercy of being shielded from the icy winds. It’s only when you set foot inside his office that you finally let yourself breathe.

The whole walk to his private office is full of agonizing spiraling thoughts. Surely this isn’t one of those “little chats”, right? The soldiers guarding the door don’t even spare the two of you a glance, their masks covering your expression, but you’re sure they pity you in some way.

The Balladeer is not known for his kindness, but even through his hate filled vision of humanity, he knows the intrinsic need of every being for validation. Not that he’s going to give them any, he has no interest in building any amicable relations in this organization, lest it serves him to reach his goals the future. But it would also be very troublesome to replace even more of his subordinates. Were he in an altered mood he would’ve just electrocuted on the spot.

Recognizing when one of his useless soldiers actually has a shred of potential is not something he’s very keen on doing, but the alternative is to put up with more incompetent fools, and that’s not on his agenda.

He sits on his chair, moving papers around on his desk. You watch him as he smacks his lips and lets out a silent huff as he finally rearranges the papers to his liking.

You’re shacking, he attributes it to the cold. Humans have always been so much weaker and more vulnerable than him. His skin is cold, glacially cold, but it’s not a feeling he registers.

Even his coat is just for show.

Your cheeks are red, but it’s (at least partially) not from the cold. Now that his coat is off you get a full view of his face. His dashing red liner perfectly contours his eyes, giving them a sharp intense look. He begins talking to you, his voice is calm and smooth, at least he’s not mad at you.

It’s about your zoning off.

It’s not something you do on purpose, but it’s just so hard to focus when you're so damn horny.

Frankly, you’re more surprised he didn’t just slap you on the spot, not that you would’ve minded. Maybe your Lord is showing you his mercy? The thought of him showing you any form of kindness makes heat slowly creep up your face. The cold slowly leaves your body as warmth replaces it, the overwhelming feeling leaving you to fiddle with the hem of your clothing.

“My deepest apologies, it will never happen again, my Lord”.

This is to be expected, addressing him with the right honorifics and apologizing is the correct (and preferred) outcome. He blinks slowly, at least he saved himself a migraine.

What he doesn’t expect is to not see you when he opens his eyes. He didn’t dismiss you. He gets up from his chair but stops when he finally spots you, on your knees with your forehead touching the ground.

“I want to make it up to you, my Lord”, you say, still not moving from your position.

This. This he likes. Usually, he’s the one forcing his subordinates to kneel in front of him, and not in a kind way either. Pressing their face on whatever unfortunate surface they were standing on, purposefully applying more pressure than needed, hoping his boots would leave a heavy mark on their face. Sometimes they would do it out of their own volition, but it doesn’t stem from an urgent need to show him their worship, it was out of fear.

“Hm.” He makes his way to the couch on the side of his desk and sits crosslegged. “Come here,”

But he interrupts you before you can push yourself on your feet- “No, stay like that.

It takes you a second to process that he wants you to crawl your way to him. You awkwardly move your body, trying not to trip on your own coat before settling in front of him.

He puts his hand on your cheeks, lightly squishing them before raising his fingers and taking your mask off, leaving your expression bare before him. It’s no different than any other fatuus mask, but he slowly examines it regardless.

“Go on, show me your devotion, (Name),” he says, shifting so his knees are on each side

Just the fact that he knows your name makes you shudder. You’re not sure of what exactly he wants from you, but you’re already in a bizarre enough situation, so you decide to follow your instincts.

You slowly wrap your hand around his boot, raising it until you can comfortably lower your face, letting your lips come in contact with it. His eyes widen for a moment, as you continue rubbing your face on the side of his boot. Their surface is clean, that bit of snow remaining gets smothered on your skin, melting away.

“Hah”, moving to other boot, you repeat the same motion “At least you know where you belong.”

His voice has a layer of malice to it, like he’s elated by this outcome. Your hand comes in contact with his skin, it’s so cold, like touching freshly piled snow. Opting to rub his legs in a meek attempt at warming them up, you press your lips to his knee, savoring the moment.

Any other person would feel humiliated in this situation, worshipping at your Lord’s feet, but this, it’s like a dream come true to you. Being so close to the object of your attraction makes your head go spinning. It feels unreal just being able to lay your hands on them. You shouldn't press your luck. but it’s so tempting to just reach over and grope him all over.

He would probably kill you.

Maybe.

Perhaps if you’re slow and methodical about it you can manage to get a tiny bit closer to his thighs. Masking your need as devotion.

You place your lips just above his knee, your hands moving under it, rubbing at the soft skin. He’s also curious about how far you’re willing to push yourself. He’s no fool, he knows you’re scared of crossing a line you’re not even aware of. He could be kind and point you in the right direction, but watching you struggle to restrain yourself while mindlessly mouthing at his skin is a show too good to pass on.

Eventually, he widens his legs, just enough to allow you to sit deeper in between them. This new position allows you to reach further. It stuns you for a moment, hesitantly putting your hands on his thighs, looking at his face for any sign of vexation. When you don’t find any, you deem it safe to push further, lowering your face to latch your mouth on the exposed skin. Leaving a slightly wet trail everywhere you go.

He’s let you get this far, and if the way he moves his legs giving you even more access is any indicator of his enjoyment, it encourages you to try your luck.

Your hand slips under his shorts, slowly pushing them up. You lock eyes, and for a second you fear you’ve overstayed your welcome, luckily that’s not the case.

“No markings.” His hand now rests on your head, slowly moving your hair out of your face.

Would it even be possible to leave marks? His skin shows no imperfections and it’s so smooth it makes you want to lose yourself in it. But it also feels… tougher? While rubbing it with your hands, it felt robust, like if you sunk your teeth in it it wouldn’t break even the upper layer. Maybe just leave a mark. A sign you were there.

But now is not the time to get lost in your imagination. Not when the real deal is in front of you, inviting you to have your fill.

You pinch lightly at the flesh of his inner thighs, you’re so close to his crotch, if it wasn’t for that piece of armor around his waist, the side of your face would be squished in it.

“Enough teasing,” He says, and almost as if he was reading your mind, he rids himself of the armor and other superfluous frills attached to it. “Get to work.”

Now that nothing is blocking your view, you can see the bulge that formed under all those clothing.

The sight makes you drool, as you immediately reach a hand to slightly squeeze it. Your eagerness amuses him, but he’s grown impatient. His grip on your hair is much tighter now, dragging your face until it’s directly flush with his clothed erection.

“You better not waste my time” His tone is harsh and firm, and it just makes the heat between your legs worse. When his grip relents, you push yourself away just enough to pull down his shorts. He shifts his hips up, aiding you in sliding them off.

Now that his erection is free, it bounces slightly as your breath fans over it. The tip is a cute shade of pink, beads of precum leaking from it. But he doesn’t give you the time to admire it any longer, grabbing himself from the hilt to slap it on your face a few times. The sound of skin slapping against skin is the only audible thing in the room. It makes your head spin. To think you’d have the privilege of being the one he unleashes his sexual frustrations on.

He pulls your head up, tapping his dick on your lips. You open your mouth, letting him rest his tip on it, and your lips wrap around him, tasting him.

Were it any other situation, you’d take your time in savoring this moment, slowly sliding your tongue around his girth, letting his desire grow. But this is different, like if your performance doesn’t satisfy him he might just kill you on the spot.

And the thought shouldn’t turn you on, for a second the thought of biting him just to piss him off crosses your mind. What a way to go that would be.

Alas, not wanting to keep him waiting, you make an effort to take as much of him as you can, until your nose is flush with his pelvis.

He lets out a satisfied sigh and that slight expression of annoyance leaves his face, your mouth is warm and wet, and the movement of you swallowing around sends shivers down his spine.

“That’s it,” his grip on your hair tightens, holding you in place. “That’s good.”

The mere hint of him praising you makes you shudder, you’re so soaked your underwear is sticking to your cunt. You want to thank him, but speaking with him in your mouth proves to be difficult, it comes out as an unintelligible hum, whether he understood you or not he seems to appreciate the vibration of your throat.

He pulls your head back, urging you to start moving, seemingly done with just enjoying your throat. You drag yourself back until his tip is once again resting on your tongue, and then push it all back in, as far as you can go. You manage to work up a steady rhythm, one that leaves small moans escape from his mouth. They’re breathy, but every time you manage to wring one out of him is like a win to you. Each little noise of his spurs you on further. One of your hands reaches up to grab the rest of him, moving up and down in synch with your mouth, while the other reaches down and inside your uniform pants, rubbing at your clit.

“F-fuck… You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Your eyes trail up to look at his, his flushed face looking back at you.

“Me using your mouth turns you on.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, and to put more emphasis on it he shifts his legs until one of them is resting between your own.

“You’re doing a good job… I guess I should reward you.”

He shoves his boot up, as if kicking your hand away. He wants you to…. oh.

Complacently, you shift lower until your full weight is resting on him, the absence of your fingers replaced by him. It takes you a moment to adjust to this new position, but once you get back on your rhythm you resume your ministrations on him, while slowly grinding on his leg.

His other hand reaches your head, threading your hair before settling a firm grip next to the other, you’re given a moment of reprise before he shoves his hips forward, roughly, holding you in place.

His thrusts are fast and merciless, each one reaching deeper inside your throat. You close your eyes, trying not to gag when he reaches a bit too deep, not that you have the ability to complain, all you can do is try your best to accommodate him as he uses you to get off. Your hips start moving a bit faster too, the thought of you being a mere means to an end in his eyes is turning you on more than you’d like. And he notices.

His cock throbs in your mouth and he lets out a breathy laugh, “So pathetic. Humping my leg like a dog in heat.”

You open your eyes for a moment to look at him. He’s grinning at you, looking at you as if you were something truly beneath him, pushing his hips in rougher as if to accentuate that. The sounds of saliva and cum smacking around your lips are so obscenely loud, you’d have half a mind to almost be embarrassed by it, but there’s a knot tightening in your stomach, and it grows tighter and tighter with every thrust of your hips. It doesn’t help that with every thrust his leg moves slightly up against you, coaxing you into an orgasm.

Your hands clamp on his thighs, hard, the shuddering of your hips slowing down as you unwind on him. You let out withered moans, barely audible but still sending pleasurable vibrations up his length.

You’re straight up drooling around him at this point, saliva sliding down your chin and on his balls. He’s sounding a bit breathier above you, and you can feel him twitching with more vigor inside your throat. Your body limp on his makes it easier to thrust deeper.

He pushes in as far as your throat allows him and stills there. You’re prepared to feel him coming down your throat, but he pushes your head back suddenly, so far back his dick slides off your mouth with a wet pop.

He’s stroking himself above you for a moment until there’s a brief pause, interrupted by a breathless curse as he finishes on the top of your lips, riddling your face with his come.

He sags back down on the couch, basking in the aftermath of his orgasm with you still in between his legs. His chest heaves up and down, catching his breath, but his moment of peace is short lived as he speaks up.

“I guess you did prove yourself,” he says as he slowly tucks himself back in his pants. You squint up at him. You don’t move from your position, still sitting even as he removes his leg from underneath you, breathing slowly and deeply now that his dick occupying your airways.

When you come to your senses you start searching around with your gaze for a tissue or even some rag to clean yourself up, you’re truly in an unpresentable state. Your hair is messily pulled out of its ties, strands flying everywhere and some glued to your face. Your face… Awkwardly, you wipe your lips, trying to at least dry up the saliva but there’s nothing you can do to hide the very evident cum sticking on… everything else. You can’t just walk out in this state- you do have a reputation to uphold. And rumors travel fast- by the end of the day every cadet would know of the shameful state you left the Balladeer’s office in, and it wouldn’t take long for them to put two and two together-

“Oh. This belongs to you.” He says holding your mask, seemingly noticing your inner monologue. “You’ll be needing it out there.” He adds as he puts it back on your face, squishing that bit of cum on your cheeks.

“You can go now. I’ll call you again when I need your… assistance.”

[sammaggs]

4x02 Easy Money // 3x01 Burning Down the House // 3x02 Eclipse | Rift

Something that always strikes me about Ray's moment of reconciliation with his father (in a show that might as well be subtitled Fathers Kinda Suck Huh???????) is the way this scene in particular is shot.

They focus especially on Ray's bracelet as he extends his hand:

Which isn't the only time they've focused on Ray's bracelet during Important Character Building. There's of course, his intro in Burning Down the House,

The close-up on the similarity with Marcus Ellory's bracelet in Eclipse,

And a bunch of other moments over seasons 3 and 4 that basically use the bracelet as a quick visual stand-in for "Ray Kowalski's a little bit different."

It’s something Ray Vecchio would never wear; hell, it's something most cops would never wear. It's a little bit, as Ray Kowalski would say, queer.

And so is Ray Kowalski.

The decision to focus on this bracelet during the exact moment he offers his hand to Damian as a peace offering is therefore, to me, worth considering. I personally read this as an indicator that part of the reason for Ray's rift with his father was his queerness.

And the first thing Damian says to Ray after they shake hands?

He compliments Ray’s experimental hair! He mentions another “queer” element of Ray’s physical appearance—one his father has likely given him a lot of grief for—and accepts it. Metaphor!!

It is, of course, understandable that Damian would have wanted better for his son than to be a cop, and this isn't to say that there isn't a world where that might have been enough to cause Damian to lose meaningful touch with his son for a decade. It certainly made sense for Ray Vecchio's father, who was likely involved with low-level mob business. But it does seem pretty extreme for Damian!

There's also the beautiful scene where Ray tells Fraser about his family in the precinct mess. At the very end, it really does look like he has something else he wants to say... but then Huey interrupts.

Now I am, of course, aware that Ray was dating or engaged to Stella at the time he graduated Academy. So what could his queerness possibly have to do with anything?

Well, as much as many of us wish it would, your queerness does not disappear when you enter a straight-passing relationship. I've even seen interesting ruminations in fic that some of the early hardship in Ray and Stella's relationship—remember, they broke up for a while during her college tenure—might have been due to the fact that Ray was interested in (or even caught) experimenting with men.

A personal anecdote, if you'll indulge me: I was in my mid-twenties, four years into a relationship with a man I thought I was going to marry, and tormented constantly by the idea that I was, probably, queer. I had no way of finding out while I was in a committed monogamous relationship. When I told my own mother that I thought I was bisexual, she told me it was all right—but also to never, ever tell my father. Even though I was in a relationship with a man, the knowledge of my queerness would have been enough to potentially cause a rift between my father and I that I don't know if we ever could have repaired. [editor's note: i'm a lesbian now and my dad and I have a stellar relationship ftr but i did have to marry a whole man first so] [editor's note: i am also the editor]

Ray gets caught with a man while Stella is in college? Or Stella knows and tells Ray's mother while they're drunk on wine one night? Or Ray's parents find a magazine... or a photo... or a stamp from the wrong club... anything. There's a million reasons why Ray's queerness could and may have come up even while he was with Stella, even while he was monogamous. Because he was still queer.

I know there's a certain element of "sometimes the curtains are just blue, dude, chill” to all of my meta, but when it comes to this show in particular I very much operate in my analyses from a place of "everything is intentional." Small details really do matter; the way scenes are shot matter, the words that are used matter, there's intentionality behind it all. We can't know or understand authorial intent, of course, but we can read our own interpretation of that intent into it. (The author is dead but Paul Gross thought Callum Keith Rennie was hot, so)

This is, after all, another episode directed by George Bloomfield, who also did Burning Down the House and is responsible for that "love at first sight" moment in Say Amen, so the direction here is in the hands of someone who is clearly in lock-step with Gross around the inclusion of queerness in the latter seasons of the show.

This moment is interesting to me in particular when considering intent because I actually would prefer to see Ray and Damian's faces in this moment! I want to know what Damian is thinking, or if he frowns. I want to know if Ray looks nervous or concerned. We don't see that at all.

Instead of seeing them over the GTO, we get the close-up on the hands and the bracelet over the rebuilt engine.

Rebuilding!! They're doing it.

And that makes my little queer heart pretty happy.

[cheeseceli]

Shut me up

Pairing: Choi Soobin × Gn!reader

Genre: fic, fluff, friends to lovers, (1.1k)

Prompt: "I know I talk too much, so honey come put your lips on mine and shut me up"

Warnings: the rest of txt make a slight cameo, soobin is a loser (affectionate)

A/n: thank you for requesting this with him because I was hoping someone would😭 enjoy! | Join the 1k event

Yours and soobin's first kiss was... Kind of a hopeless mess.

It all started with a date you didn't even know was a date. Following his friend's advice, he invited you out. Just keep it casual, they will love it. That's what Yeonjun said.

Soobin wishes he could punch Yeonjun right now.

That's simply because you were both sitting side by side on a bench in the park, and you've just asked when the others were coming along.

"Probably soon, I think they might be stuck in traffic."

You nodded, thinking it probably made sense. But it actually didn't. Because no one was coming. Maybe keeping it so casual was a mistake, considering you thought it was so casual that it would be just a normal outing among friends. Not a date. Not that Soobin was stressing over it, of course not.

He just casually wants to punch Yeonjun.

But he also should kick Taehyun since it was his idea to come to a park this weekend. Saturdays are always great for dates, there's no better day than this one. Taehyun was a very smart guy and, since he told Soobin that the place and weather would be perfect, he was most likely right as always.

Except it started to rain.

You and your clothes, that made you look more ethereal than you already were, were getting wet. And so was your date friend. When you got up from the bench, Soobin swore he heard his heart get broken thinking about how you were going to bid your farewell. Happily, you just said "Let's go to some cafe, we can wait for them there".

You were way smarter than Taehyun, that's a fact.

Buy them something to drink. Now that was Hueningkai's advice. Soobin thought to himself for a second before complying; that one couldn't go wrong. He had the money - he made sure to avoid his wallet around the guys. He also knew your favourite drink by heart and the place was very nice. Okay, that one really couldn't go wrong.

"Go find us somewhere to sit, I'll have something for us to drink" he told you smiling, hoping to look confident and cool.

You smiled back at him. Oh my God that must've worked right?? Soobin was about to kiss kai for giving him the only right advice until now.

In his opinion, everything was going on pretty smoothly. They had your order there, it smelled good and it looked nice. For a second, Soobin thought he could really impress you, even if it's with a silly thing like that.

That is, until this random guy dropped his coffee in his shirt. Yeah, that really sucked.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" the person said. The coffee was kinda hot but not enough to hurt him, but sadly it was enough to ruin his shirt. Of course he had to wear a white shirt that day.

"It's okay, don't worry" The stranger even paid soobin's and yours coffee as an apology but he doesn't know if that made him feel better or worse about the whole situation. Sorry Kai, I couldn't pay for the drinks.

But once he sat down next to you, your eyes turned confused at the exact moment, and you didn't hesitate on taking some napkins to try and help soobin's shirt. A win is a win, he thinks when he feels your hands trying to dry his sleeve. His skin was getting hotter and redder. He hopes you assumed it was the hot coffee.

Don't forget to compliment them, Beomgyu said. Usually Soobin wouldn't hesitate on ignoring any possible advice his friend could give, but this one felt like the sanest thing he had said in a while. Maybe it was worth the risk.

He started to look at you, still focused on trying to clean his shirt. There were just so many things he could compliment. He loved the way your eyes would squint when you were paying attention to something. He loved how your skin felt delicate when you were touching him. He could spend hours talking about how your hair framed your face perfectly or how your voice was adorable. He also really liked your lips, a lot. If he could, he would kiss you right on the spot.

"What?"

"What?"

You were looking at him confused, like you were solving the hardest of puzzles in your head. But Soobin doesn't understand. He didn't do anything, nor said something that could make you have his reaction. He just...

His hand flew to his mouth, covering it and only showing his wide eyes in total horror. No way he said that. He couldn't have said that.

"Did you just say that..." you tried to formulate it without sounding weird, not that the situation itself wasn't already bad enough "that you wanted to kiss me?"

He laughed. Little giggles started to get past his lips, but it was extremely clear that it was a laugh filled with panic. How can someone screw things up so badly?

"No, no. I mean yeah I did but no! I shouldn't have said that, it was a mistake. Not that I didn't mean it, because I did, but in a sense that I shouldn't have said it, you know?" he looked at you trying to find a string of hope, any sign that he was on his way of fixing things, but damn he was so lost. "Like, I won't actually kiss you! I wanted to but then, no hold on. I wouldn't do it like this, in something like... You understand what I mean right?"

He doesn't know for how long he kept on speaking any random excuse he could think of. At some point, his panicked laugh got mixed with words and the only thing he could say were unintelligible sounds. You could almost see a little smoke getting out of his brain. He only came to a stop when you kissed the corner of his mouth, shutting him up immediately.

Did you just... kiss him?

You giggled lightly, probably at how awestruck he was right now. It wasn't even a kiss on his lips - unfortunately - but he felt like he could die a happy man at that moment.

"I can't believe I'll have to thank the boys for that."

"Weren't they tagging along?"

Oh.

"Now that's kind of a funny story..." You could see he was collecting his breath to start yapping again, but he stopped right when he saw you smile. Apparently, both your kiss and smile had the ability to stop his brain.

Suddenly he started to talk again, not knowing exactly what he was ranting about this time. His words probably weren't even coherent, but maybe you'd kiss him to shut him up once more.

Maybe this one kiss would land on his lips instead.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: So Sweet

Thank you for reading 💛

Taglist (open!): @zzzzzwicked @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

[hirsheyskisses]

OP Boys: Special Hugs (03)

Kid & Killer

(Short Scenarios)

WARNING: Kidd's part gets a lil NSFW. no need done, but suggestive.

Eustass "Captain" Kid.

♥︎ let's get one thing straight

♥︎ he doesn't do "hugs"

♥︎ no see he does this really creepy staring thing from a distance. He practically SENSES when you're in the room with him, and he turns his head and stares.

♥︎ he thinks he's subtle but he's really not

♥︎ what, you broke a knife? Here, have 20 more he made himself for this exact occasion. Why are you looking at him so weird? YOUR OLD KNIVES WERE TRASH ANYWAYS HIS ARE BETTER >:(

♥︎ also, weirdly specific way of flirting with insults that are actually compliments

♥︎ yeah, that energy.

♥︎ but fate leads to the weirdest shit, so..

"....a fucking sea-stone box."

"I tried to tell ya, Cap'n.."

Taking a look at your situation, there was no avoiding it. Your Captain just didn't listen to reason, it wasn't in his blood. Now, you were cramped against his chest in a tiny, sea stone box, that was only ever intended to hold him.

Not an extra human.

"Quit your damn squirmin." Kid grunted, flesh arm wrapping around you. It was pitch black, so neither of you knew where body parts were until you felt them out. "Tryna give you more room.." you muttered. Currently, you were awkwardly pressed against him: head just above his, hands on his shoulders, and legs resting on his. "No, you're tryna shove your tits into my face."

You could almost see the smirk with his words, "If I wanted my tits in your face, they'd be there! Now hush and let me move," you slowly twisted your body, hand grabbing his thigh for balance. His hand danced up your waist, half helping you turn your back to him.

"If I do this, you'll have more leg room." Which is something you figured he desperately needed, being damn near 6'5 and built like a tank, yet again, cramped in a tiny box that was sucking his energy.

"Mhm.. yeah. Yer gropin' my thigh, sweetie. 'S much as I love the energy, a box ain't the place we're gonna do this." You tightened your grip, chuckling out of pure annoyance: this absolute and utter piece of work-

"...Captain, for the love of all that's holy, shut the fuck up- please."

"So polite." He snickered, his lips now right next to your ear.

You successfully had your back against his chest now, knees brought up to your own, and dropped your head on them. You could hear Kid chuckling softly, his arm wrapping around your middle.

"The hell are you doing?" "Mmmmmmm...." He groaned in your ear.

Heat rushed up to your face. "What the hell?!" "Ya smell good." "Yeah well you smell like fuckin sweat so-"

He drew you closer, dropping his head ontop of yours, "when we get out of here.. so will you."

Long story short, if Kid had known what it'd take to get you so flustered and in his arms was to put you both in a cramped space.. well, let's just say this isn't the last time.

"Massacre Solider" Killer

• it takes a lot for Killer to get touchy Feely.

• Contrare to his captain's kinda horny love, his is, way more subtle. (Mostly because, thanks to the mask, you can't see him watching you.)

• when he decides he wants to try himself with you, he starts popping up. Everywhere.

• You're genuinely surprised he hasn't popped up while you're showering at this point

• however, Killer does have a weakness, being from the south blue. And that's the cold.

• see, you're from the north blue. You're used to it.. and so..

"...you're bundled up-"

"And youre.. not."

You quirked a brow, eyeing your Vice Captain. He was currently dressed in three of the puffiest jackets you'd ever laid eyes on, an ear flap hat over his mask, gloves, and the fuzziest pants ever. Meanwhile, you were dressed in a simple jacket, boots, regular jeans, and gloves.

"Ya look.. fluffy." You could almost swear he was still shivering a bit. "...Killer, you can head back inside. I've got the watch."

He shook his head, "'s better to have two people on watch." "In some cases, sure, but when the second person is so cold they're dressed like an old lady.."

You watched the blonde tense, "...I don't understand how you're not cold." You snickered, shaking your head. Snow was beginning to fall from the sky- you'd long since entered a winter biome. "I am cold, but not that cold."

"You're insane." "I think the same about you South Blue folk in the heat. North Blue folk are built for the cold."

Killer shook his head again, joining you in leaning over the rail.

"...you've been out here for a while. Let me take over." Killer said. He was right, but if he was the next in line.. "Thanks, killer, but I'll stay out here with you."

"Go inside. You're not dressed properly for this cold."

"Did you not listen to a word of what I just said- I'm built for this-"

"Did you not listen to what your Vice Captain just told you?"

"Sorry, don't see him. I do see a cold, stubborn child." You were careful not to use the term kid.

"."

"..."

"......"

"You're worse than Kid."

"I'll take that at face value and be insulted."

He sighed, "impossible."

A few hours later, you both were switching shifts with Heat and Wire. Walking into the kitchen, you stretched, watching Killer de-layer by the fire. A smirk tugged at your lips as you approached the masked man from behind, staring over his shoulder.

"The caterpillar emerges from its cocoon!" "Shut." He grumbled, removing his gloves last. His hands looked tenser than usual, likely because of the cold. So hatched your master plan of..

Grabbing his hands, and engulfing them with your own, and lifting them both to rest at your neck. Because of his mask, you couldn't see what he felt: but oh, if you could, this man was panicking.

Finally, he mustered, "...you're a human heater."

"That I am! Besides, neck, underarms, and .. between the thighs are the warmest part on any human. Thought you'd know that."

Silence. His fingers flexed and tightened at your shoulders, before, without warning, he had you picked up and thrown over his shoulder, stalking down the halls.

"EH? KILLER-" before you knew it, he'd thrown open the door to his room, tossed you on the bed, and quickly yanked a blanket over you both, snuggling into bed without even taking his boots off.

"...do I wann-" "...you're my personal heater. So sleep."

Well, he's wanted to do that for a while regardless.. holding you in his arms, lay on top of you.. the occasion was just too perfect not to throw rank around a bit.

[azulasmommyissues]

ATLA sexuality headcanons, part 1, Aang's era:

aang

-unlabelled or pansexual, also incredibly gnc. he/they methinks

-he never questioned it, he never thought about it. the air nomads were chill with everything, so he was too.

-he simply loves people, and he loves them deeply. he's the sort of person who says "i love you" very fast. and he doesn't have a specific type, either. he simply connects with people.

-he definitely had a bit of a thing for kuzon back in the day. kuzon taught him all the fire nation dances he knows, and bumi cheered them on.

-he also kinda digged teo, the mechanist's son, but by that point he already had his heart set on katara.

-as for girls, he DID like on-ji. in different circumstances, they would might have dated for a short while. but with katara it was love at first sight. the sort that makes you giddy and stupid.

-he's a lot worse at rizzing up katara because he is just THAT into her and he keeps fumbling

katara

-growing up, she never really questioned it. she knew she definitely liked boys and never had feelings for another girl.

-she's certainly fully cisgender. happily says “she/her/hers” when asked for her pronouns

-on the contrary, she was somewhat attracted to haru and jet both—and might've even considered zuko in different circumstances. like she definitely felt something akin to attraction in the crossroads of destiny.

-she fell in love with aang, because he gave her hope, he gave her joy, he gave her balance. she already felt SOMETHING in the cave of two lovers, but she was deeply confused and her feelings didn't clear until after the war.

-she always thought of herself as straight but said that, if she had the chance, she would be willing to kiss a girl—as an experiment. she just sort of always admired pretty girls, in the sense of "do i wanna BE her or DATE her,"

-and she's really passionate about feminism, obviously

-she always prefers getting compliments from other women because "they're worth mOre"

-eventually she meets jiang who's such a butch lesbian and questions EVERYTHING

-is that a girl? is that a boy? idk but why are they kinda...

-niyok and nutha both give homoerotic friendship vibes with her (all comic specific characters have the combined personality of one person hence why I'm including both)

-since she was dating aang she didn't explore her sexuality, but she discussed it with him and he supported her

-she considered identifying as bi but didn't feel like she qualified, since she'd never actually dated a girl. aang told her it's okay eifher way.

-at the end she decides to keep it all behind closed doors as per water tribe tradition. she's happy with aang, some girls are hot, it's nobody's business but her own.

-i also completely fw the reading of her as a straight cis girl, but you know

sokka

-bisexual, female lean, and maybe even poly.

-he fell for yue, he fell for suki. he definitely found like, ty lee attractive, but he didn't LIKE her. He was involved with suki, and they hadn't had any conversation about the exact status of their relationship so he wasn't about to fumble it.

-suki and him are both bi. and if yue were alive they'd BOTH be dating her. at the same time.

-zuko was sokka's bi awakening. seeing zuko and suki run around in the boiling rock absolutely changed his brain chemistry.

-he had a hard time accepting it, because of how the water tribes roll. he had a preconceived notion of manhood that he obviously had to challenge alongside his initial sexism.

-but then he realised that 1) his dad had been in a secret poly relationship with kya and bato, and then with bato and malina-- 2) his grandma had a fling with hama--3) master piandao and jeong jeongwere a thing--and 4) his girlfriend herself, suki, was bi. so bro had nothing to worry about.

-his identity became clear to him with suki's and his father's help. unlike katara, he was a bit more open and public with it. being poly, him and suki had many opportunities to explore it, always respecting each other's boundaries.

-sometimes suki does his makeup and he grows to enjoy it. he experiments with gender expression until he becomes totally chill with it.

-big part of his character is learning that he doesn't have to be a “man” in the way that patriarchy imposed on him his whole life

-so like, cisn't

toph

-toph has crushes on boys: sokka, zuko, the duke, satoru, sun, kanto. but i think non of them are really legit.

-toph would also flirt with girls, like, yaling

-had a 'not like other girls' phase

-she/they/he vibes, has a very complicated relationship with gender

-because she was made fun off by other girls as a child, it was harder for her to blend in and talk with them

-she was also raised sheltered within the walls of aristocracy which contributed to her not thinking about it

-she avoided commitment and serious relationships like the plague

-so she's unlabelled and perhaps in the aro spectrum. like, demisexual. but being both demi (aka needing to like someone as a person and getting to know them before feeling attracted to them) AND having commitment issues and a bunch of failed relationships is like, a DEADLY combo.

-i don't know. she is chaotic and not at all skilled with romance so she always fumbles it.

-but i also think she might just be 1000% aromantic whether or not she understands it fully

-i think that's very plausible

suki

-bisexual with a female lean and maybe poly

-big she/they vibes

-she's got endless autistic rizz like girl seduced sokka at light speed.

-in kyoshi island they called the bisexuals 'children of kyoshi' and the lesbians 'children of rangi'

-kyoshi island is basically lesbos if you didn't know /hj

-had her first kiss with mingxia before they decided that "ew, never again, i see you like a sister". she was super happy to meet meilin, mingxia's girlfriend

-DEFINITELY liked biyu and they might have been a thing in different circumstances. Aka if biyu hadn't betrayed her.

-would've dated both sokka and yue if yue was alive. like she would have loved yue. both of them having never left their respective homelands. both of them caring about community and having a duty to their people, a leadership position,,,

-but suki being so badass, liberated, free—and yue needing to sacrifice herself to BE free from her oppressive environment,,, like yue would also admire suki so much?? they would love exploring the world together and it'd put sokka out of a very awkward spot-

zuko

-demiromantic, bisexual. like this boy is SOMEWHERE im the ace spectrum but he's also bi. I'd say with a male lean.

-had internalised homophobia growing up, because, duh, fire nation

-he definitely thought that everyone feels like that when he was a child until his mother told him that this was very much NOT the case

-the gaang made him realise that it's totally okay and since they are all so queer he felt very safe with them

-made gay marriage legal in the fire nation

-made pride a thing in the fire nation inspired by the rainbow fire because i said so

-definitely felt attracted to both jet and sokka in the guy department.

-now, when it cames to girls, mai was his childhood crush.

-he definitely found song attractive but he was NOT in that headspace obviously

-same thing with jin although he was in a better headspace then. he introduced jin and song to each other post-war and they dated each other.

yue

-never got the chance to figure out how much girlypop liked women

-i could so easily claim she's a femme lesbian and that sokka was comphet, and I could even CONVINCE ya'll, because he is SO comphet coded, but I really love yue's storyline as it is and the lasting affect it has on sokka,,,,

-i can also imagine her on the ace spectrum

-she's so sapphic she's so queer bro is literally the moON?? what's more sapphic than the moon

-so, whatever, I'll say she's bi with a STRONG female lean. if she'd survived and joined the gaang she would have dated both sokka and suki and i truly believe that

-she would've loved suki and i just KNOW it

-love her so much let my girl be free of her arranged marriage

ty lee

-lesbian or pansexual. was ready to risk it all for mai. also completely down to be in a polycule

-she simply enjoyed male validation and attention due to her unmet childhood emotional needs. the dudes at the beach as well as sokka were giving massive comphet energy.

-i do also accept the possibility of her being pan, that'd be pretty great, but yknow, we do need more lesbians.

-despite being a fire nation citizen i think she'd be pretty open and liberated when it comes to her identity, at least wherever it's safe

-because her own ideology and philosophy is like. pseudo air nomad philosophy so i think she simply doesn't give a shit

-she is really into pride events. she LOVES the parade.

-i think she did have feelings for azula, at least as a child. then it all became really unhealthy,

-still, she felt sad about how things ended with azulw. she genuinely wishes it were different

mai

-she does also give comphet lesbian vibes BUT the "i love zuko more than I fear you" line SLAPS so I'm going to say bisexual with a female lean. she's also definitely asexual—and also demiromantic.

-ADORED ty lee, she just always assumed ty lee would choose azula

-it takes mai a long time to develop feelings for anyone, but when she falls she falls hard

-she's really not a big pride person, but she grows to enjoy it eventually. she goes with zuko and ty lee.

-she's not super vocal about her sexuality, but she also doesn't hide it. she doesn't give a shit. it's her business.

azula

-azula is a lesbian. not debatable like the others, to me.

-her feelings towards ty lee and mai are very reminiscent of sozin's feelings for roku i believe. like iykyk.

-she couldn't remember which of the boys was the one she was supposed to "like," but she remembered perfectly which bikini ty lee and mai were wearing. she picked chan like lesbians pick a random boy to crush on in middle school.

-and then she instesd remembered one of thr gusy who were flirting with either mai or ty lee. bestie was jealous.

-she had comphet, so much comphet. she wanted to be loved.

-so much internalised homophobia.

-she has a type, and it's brunette non benders of similar build. by which i mean ty lee and suki

-the ill will she holds towards mai in her comic for ruining their group over a stUpid BOY-

-it's comical,,

-i love her.

jet

-all the freedom fighters are queer

-jet is probably pansexual or bisexual. and also he/they

-he had a thing for katara but he sure as hell also had a thing for zuko

-he punches homophobes in the face

-i never liked jet when i was a kid because he was a jerk and i hated him with katara, but i grew to really enjoy his character and his arc

-this boy wants to eat the rich

-he doesn't want gay marriage, he wants to abolish marriage

smellerbee

-transfem ICON, she/her, though generally gender non conforming.

-and she's also also aromantic and asexual.

-queer platonic relationship with longshot, because of how deeply they love and understand and support each other

-if you misgender her on purpose the whole group will gang up on you and by the end of it you'll have four broken limbs and they'll be arrested for aggravated assault

longshot

-he's aromantic and asexual but he's got unmatched non-verbal autistic rizz

-as i said, QPR with smellerbee

-but all the freedom fighters plan to keep living together forever,, they're found family

-him and smellerbee just have a particularly special bond

the duke

-the duke is pansexual, i think

-i think he had a crush on toph

-also he/they

-and that's about all I've got

pipsqueak

-he/they/she

-pipsqueak's literally his chosen name, nothing cisgender about that,

-gay

sneers

-transmasc, he/they, potentially genderfluid

-dating kori who is bi

haru

-bisexual, female lean

-he/they, potentially genderfluid

teo

-gay, crush on aang

jin and song

-jin is pansexual, would definitely date song who is a lesbian

-zuko introduces them!!

uncle iroh

-straight ally. women are great! big womaniser back in his day.

-loves gay people

-huge support for zuko coming out

-that being said, he wasn't ALWAYS an ally. like he wasn't homophobic either, but he didn't support queer people before lu ten came out to him. then he accepted it, because he loved his son. finally, travelling the world and studying different philosophies led him to be a great ally.

-then he became the biggest ally ever amd a huge advocate for queer rights

-on a similar note, lu ten was gay. ozai was straight. zhao was straight and azulon was probably also straight. just getting them out of the wAy.

piandao

-gay gay gay. likes men.

-him and jeong jeong as a salty judgmental old couple is so real

-also everyone knows about it but nobody dares to give him shit for it

-he just glares and you immediately get off his back

-he could get himself a husband and nobody in the fire nation would do anything to stop him because they literally cannot arrest him

-he'll just shut the door on their face

jeong jeong

-also gay. big gay.

-tons of internalised homophobia, bless him

-tons of self hatred

-like, the way he sees his firebending as a curse of destruction and hatred and hates himself for it—instead of seeing all the colours of the dragons' rainbow fire, like zuko and aang, who symbolise the new generation

-it can work so well as a queer self-acceptance metaphor

-he definitely ends up with piandao, as i said before. begrudgingly in love.

hama

-lesbian. privately, as per water tribe tradition.

-nobody in the south gives her shit for it.

-she definitely had a relationship with kanna.

-when she lived in the fire nation, things were different. living as her authentic self was impossible—even secretly, it became near-impossible.

-hama's life is one big tragedy.

pakku

-straight. initially homophobic as per water tribe conservatism. the sort of, "just don't shove it in my face" homophobia

-but upon realising that like, both his friend group and his wife are incredibly queer, he gets over it

-iroh helps with educating him

-it's also canon that zuko gives the southern water tribe custody of hama after the war which i find incredibly sweet

-but since hama and kanna were... tight, I find myself incredibly entertained imagining possible interactions between pakku and hama

kanna (gran gran)

-kanna was bisexual.

-in the time she spent traveling from the north to the south she slept with a bunch of people

-fire nation pirates, sand bender bandits, earth kingdom soldiers... hakoda's father is a mystery. a mama mia situation.

-other flings include the herbalist, probably, (all old people know each other)

-even madame wu, why not?

-like it entertains me to think that kanna was unhinged the moment she left the Northern Water Tribe

-and being a non bender she used all tools at her disposal to reach the south if you know what i mean

-that being said, she also learned to fight a bit. probably. just to spite pakku.

-when she reached the south, she had a thing with hama. i say this because of the kataang parallel when hama was taken away.

hakoda and bato

-hakoda is bi, bato is gay

-hakoda loved kya, bato loved him secretly and never told him

-after kya died, bato was his only comfort, they fell in love

-once malina enters the situation too, it eventually ends up being a polycule

-note that i strongly dislike malina and those comics

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoonkook x Reader

Touch-Starved [Main Story]

Yoongi has a crush on you, but is convinced you're not interested in him. You have a crush on Yoongi, but are sure that he'd never like you if he knew your secret. Jungkook has a crush on you but won't admit it to anyone, and you have a crush on Jungkook, but you think you know that he'd never see you as a possible partner, because he knows your secret. It's all just such a mess. How could you ever sort this out?

Tags/Warnings: Wolf!Bangtan, Wolf!Jungkook, Wolf!Yoongi, Dog!Reader, Puppy!Reader, DDLG aspects and themes, no judgement allowed here, non-sexual regression!!!, none of those themes are sexualized in this work, hurt and comfort, major fluff but also lots of angst and insecurity, friends to lovers

Length: idk long didn't count

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Yoongi is not good at things like affection, or relationships at that.

He easily turns red as bright as a spanked ass whenever he has to try and compliment someone he's even just remotely romantically interested in, or he will otherwise simply not find the courage to do it at all. Backhanded compliments are a regular thing with him, his character not allowing him to show someone he cares without implying that he doesn't- a trait that he hates about himself.

He'd learned it from his father, making him even more upset since he never really got along well with that man in the first place. Yet the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like his family history will just repeat itself, and he will find himself in a marriage simply created because of convenience, not love.

He cringes at that, throwing the rest of his sandwich away. His appetite has been long gone anyways.

The reason of his foul mood is in the dorm currently, sitting comfortably on the couch playfully wrestling with Jungkook over a pack of chips he can't identify from his spot.

He hates Jungkook sometimes.

He's always pictured as a shy boy, yet he's actually the exact opposite - easily likable, charming, and most of all- he's your age. The maknae and you are merely half a year apart in age, and he can see why you get along with him. He is a nice person, with his bright smile and large eyes, talented, strong, and likes video games as much as you do.

Yoongi himself does play some games to a small extend, however, he rather buries himself in his work, losing sense of time whenever music is involved.

Overly confident is not how he would describe you- you are simply uncaring of trends of the masses. You don't crave to stand out like Taehyung does, you rather enjoy simply living for yourself and what makes you happy no matter what people would think of your 'goals'. You love stuffed animals and soft colorful things no matter how childish it might make you look. You rarely take selfies of yourself, and never really pose much in images- you just smile, simple as that.

God that smile. If there is an emotion for hate and love at the same time, he is constantly feeling it when it comes to you.

Yoongi wants to be close to you as well, maybe even the closest if he is honest, yet he doesn't know how the hell he is supposed to do that. You both rarely text- he is too unsure if he can, since he is only in a groupchat with you, and only got your ID from Hoseok, who gave it to him in case Yoongi needs to text you something important. You rarely visit him in his studio, but then again, he never told you you'd be welcome anytime. Every small thing he does for you he either brushes it off as nothing speci¹al, or sometimes even tells you that he didn't do it, but one of his members, claiming that he has no Idea what you are talking about. You also show absolutely no interest in him whatsoever.

Which makes his embarrassing crush on you all the more awkward.

He's Min Yoongi for god's sake! He could have anyone if he really tried, if just for his fame and wealth and status as a full blooded Wolf-Hybrid coming from a 'clean' bloodline- yet he is stuck with you, the tiny dog hybrid who sees him as a friend only- if even that at all.

"Yoongi! Finally leaving your wife in there to join us in being social for once?" Seokjin remarks with his signature laugh following, making you chuckle as well.

"Don't be mean Jin." You softly scold the oldest. "Yoongs works hard in there." You look over your shoulder, one of your floppy ears unfolding while you smile that goddamn smile at him- not huge, not a smirk, simply a nice friendly gesture towards him, curled tail wagging a little.

The nickname doesn't make it better.

He hates nicknames, however, he could definitely keep living with your cute versions of his first name any day of the week. He wants to answer you, give you a verbal response, yet all he can bring himself to do is a shrug of his shoulders.

What the fuck.

But you only playfully hold your heart, falling into Jungkooks lap with a dramatic sigh. "Ah, always so cold-!" Which makes the guys laugh, and himself involuntarily smile to himself. He sits down, managing to actually place his ass next to you on the couch without instantly retreating for once. You bravely put your legs over his lap, and his mind is beginning to form the same amount of error messages like his PC system the last time he spilled his iced americano over his MIDI-board.

Yet he only grunts on the outside, and takes his phone out to search for something.

You chuckle, mumbling a sorry under your breath and move to slide your legs off of him again, but his unused hand stops them, shifting them back. His fingers are touching the small patch of bare skin on your calf between your leggings and fluffy sock that had slid down a little- and he has to use all of his self-control not to burst into flames.

He's never really had any very close contact with you, and always imagined what your skin may feel like- as creepy as that sounds. The smile he can see you forming from the side of his view makes him relax, as well- the first sign spotted that he might have some sort of effect on you. Taehyung makes a noise, but is silenced by namjoon who pulls him into a conversation to avoid embarrassing the producer, well aware of his own personal dilemma with you. He is the only one who really knows of his feelings towards you- having told yoongi that you actually feel the same way, yet a bit different. You are, according to namjoon, scared to overstep boundaries with Yoongi, worried that he may snap at you like he did a few months back.

There's that certain feeling whenever you do something stupid and then want to apologize, but you miss the chance and now weeks after it's just awkward, so you don't mention it, while also having to deal with the consequences daily.

Yeah. He still thinks of that moment he'd yelled at you sometimes at the most random of times, cringing internally at it. He'd been stressed with the new Album he wanted to put out, having been stuck on one song, and you had just turned up at the wrong time. You didn't cry or anything like that, you simply apologized for opening his studio without knocking, and left with your tail tucked between your legs. Since then however you'd become a bit more distant with him, more careful, and less touchy than you were with the rest of the pack.

He knows you're a sucker for skinship and cuddling, especially as a dog hybrid who's grown up in a carecenter between many other hybrids, yet you also respect if someone wants space. He loves how much attention you pay to your surroundings, eyes always wide open- you remember things for a long time, and you are able to keep track of so many things at once- yet he's also seen your apartment, a glimpse of your more raw personal side that you tend to keep close to yourself. You're a chaotic person, and he doesn't know how you find anything on that desk of yours.

You struggle to keep track of chores and your own health sometimes, yet you try hard, he knows that. And that makes him feel such an extreme need to make sure you're always happy and taken care of, that he's the one to take care of you.

"Oh, YOONGI!" You suddenly gasp at him, and he raises his eyebrows, looking at you as you move around a bit, your hands searching in your sweater pocket for something. "I actually cleaned up my apartment yesterday, and I found this. I think I borrowed it sometime ago, but lost it- sorry for that again by the way, won't happen again I promise!" You say, showing him a black and silver USB stick, your curly tail wagging in excitement.

You're right, that is his. He actually had forgotten about it.

"Took you long enough." He simply says and takes it from you to put it in his own pocket, seconds later cringing at his sentence. He could've definitely phrased that better, or maybe even simply thank you for giving it back even after all this time. Yet the timeframe of saying thank you without making it seem weird or out of place is already overstepped now, so he has to suffer.

Jungkook chimes in instead.

"I helped her get some order back into that place. Poor puppy had been so stressed with work that she couldnt keep up anymore." He says, laughing along with you, and Yoongi lets a chuckle of his own slip. But instead of telling you what a good job you did, or any praise he really wants to tell you, he only pats your leg gently two times, running his thumb over your calf for a second, internally imprinting into his mind how soft your skin is.

You however beam at this, visibly feeding off of his small gesture like a touch starved pet- and he can't help but find it cute.

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A knock on his door makes him look at it, giving a verbal response in a low "Hm?", as he hears your voice from behind it.

You're not really saying anything, just a sound of confusion and discomfort escaping you from behind the door, and he can slowly hear your slippers softly moving away, when he gets up from his chair to open his door to see you stop to look at him. You're standing in front of him with wide eyes and lowered ears, one of them being pulled on by your hand as he can hear the rest of the pack laughing in the main living room of the dorm. He chuckles at that, waving you into his studio, making him and yourself smile. You thank him somewhat quietly, and go to sit down on his small couch he has inside his studio, laying down so your feet still touched the ground as to not overstep any unspoken rules he might have.

Yoongi however walks up to you, and puts your feet up for you, grabbing a spare blanket from besides the couch, something he always kept here since he sleeps in his studio quite often. You thank him quietly for that, the soft buzzing of his studio PC and the nice air conditioning already helping your fuzzy head a lot.

Jumping over your shadow and coming here was a good idea after all, it seems like.

Yoongi sympathizes with you when it comes to headaches- and it's clear from your behavior that you probably have one, which could also explain why you don't really talk, since it probably hurts. Due to the fact that he seems to solely survive off of caffeine and a cup of instant ramen smashed in between his busy schedule, he gets them more often than he would like to admit. Yet he also remembers how you'd told him once how easily your headaches evolved into migraines if you weren't careful, so he is mindful to help you in avoiding that this time. He digs around in his mind for any small excuse to talk to you, yet ultimately decides against it, thinking it would probably be better for you to have as much silence as possible.

He wonders what your secret is.

Namjoon had mentioned something you kept secret 'for a reason', but he wouldn't tell the producer what it could be, not even a hint. You hopefully know that nothing could ever really make Yoongi see you any different than he does right now.

Except maybe murder- but he doubts that that's what you're hiding.

He also knows that Jungkook is aware of it too. Maybe you both are a couple? He does sleep over sometimes after all, seems to be awfully good with calming you down whenever you're anxious or panicking. It's like the young wolf is aware or something Yoongi isn't, able to manage you when you're becoming restless about things.

Another knock is heard. Yoongi attempts to call out- but gets up to walk to the door instead so he won't shout and worsen your headache. It's Jungkook- because of course it is.

"Hey- is- oh, there she is. I was wondering where she went " jungkook says, entering after the rapper walks aside, silently giving him permission to come in. "Hey- everything okay?" Jungkook wonders softly to you, and you quietly shake your head, whining slightly to yourself before you pull down your ears once more over your eyes, clearly signaling your headache to him as well. "I told you to drink more, puppy. Come on, let's get you home." He gently says, helping you sit up.

"She can just nap here, I don't mind." Yoongi offers- but there's something in Jungkook's eyes that seems oddly suspicious as he looks for an answer inside his head it seems like.

"Ah, I'll rather take her home, but thanks hyung." He tells him, averting his gaze as he instead occupies himself with you who's silently reaching out for him, clinging onto him as he picks you up, showing clearly how used to it both of you are. Jungkook holds you almost effortlessly, while you're instinctively laying your head on his shoulder, arms around his neck.

Yeah, you're probably a couple, and you just don't want to say it out loud.

"You know, you could just tell everyone." Yoongi grumbles more or less as he opens the door for the two of you, Jungkooks wide eyes looking at him. "No one's gonna get mad or something if you told them." He shrugs, and Jungkook looks around for a second, on edge. "You're together, right?" He asks, and Jungkook shakes his head- though with a hint of shyness in his face.

"Ah no- hyung.." He sighs. "I'll- she'll explain when she's ready okay?" He says, as you whine into his neck. "I have to bring her home now- thanks for looking after her!" He says already walking away-

leaving Yoongi confused.

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Jungkook honestly wishes you and him were a couple.

But life doesn't work like this, and sadly, you're not into him like that. You see him as a comfort person, a packmate and a friend- but nothing more than that. He remembers when he first 'caught' you in the midst of regressing in your home-

the whole apartment a mess, cluttered and absolutely disorganized.

You're one of only three percent of dog hybrids that fall into a different headspace when stressed or overwhelmed. It's not something you can control, and neither is it a trauma response- it's just nature playing a cruel joke on you, making your mind shut down to a certain degree to protect you. It's like your brain is overprotective- trying to shield you from all potential mental harm.

But all of that comes with a lot of issues and troubles, such as difficulty holding a job, or simple things such as keeping your apartment clean.

Jungkook remembers how terrified you were of him finding you in your messy apartment- having had to calm you down for a good hour or so before he could even attempt at helping you clean up and take care of your needs. He's not sure why you're so adamant on hiding it from the rest of the pack- but he's got an idea.

Dog hybrids with your condition are alienated, isolated, judged terribly. And you're probably terrified of being cast out of the pack for it, leaving you alone and without anybody.

Your personal nightmare.

So he just instead has decided to take care of you, and wait until you feel ready to tell someone else. You deserve happiness and the feeling of safety and comfort, but he can also understand that you're worried of how it'll be taken by the rest of the guys.

And yeah, he also gets to be a little selfish himself when he's got time with you like this. He gets to live out a little dream here and there, where you're actually his to love. Because he does love you, to the moon and back- and he knows his heart will surely break a little one day when you find someone to give your own heart to, instead of him.

So he takes these moments for himself, and enjoys those daydreams for now, until he has to wake up.

"There we go, that's already better isn't it?" Jungkook hums after he'd taken out your hairtie, fingers massaging the spot where it had been pressing against your scalp for the past few hours. You hum in agreement, nodding against his shoulder while you move a bit to get comfortable on his thighs.

You don't even know that you almost exposed your secret to Yoongi of all people- the one wolf of the pack you've got a crush on.

Everyone kind of knows it, everyone also knows about his crush on you as well- though you seem rather talented in finding excuse after excuse as to why that can't be true. Jungkook knows your main fear is what you're right now- and that Yoongi could find you appalling, or childish, or anything else negative that could come to your mind.

And Jungkook can't say he doesn't understand your fear- because he does.

"You're gonna get all stiff if you nap like that." Jungkook chuckles, patting your back a little, making your curled tail wag happily. "Don't be a brat now. Come on, we'll take a nap on the couch, yeah?" He hums. You whine. "No? Not a nap?" He wonders, but you nod now. "Okay, yes to a nap, no to the couch?" He navigates, laughing when you nod now, tail wagging. "Puppy if we nap in bed you'll sleep for hours though." He sighs.

But you simply wiggle out of his lap, before you run to the bedroom-

The wolf hot on your heels, when your doorbell rings.

When Jungkook opens the door, it's Yoongi- the producer holding up a jacket. "She left it at the dorm." He informs Jungkook, who reaches out to take it- though Yoongi holds it back. "I'd like to give it to her myself-"

"You can't." The younger wolf denies, panicking a little when he hears something jingle, and feels the toy hit his back softly, fabric ball tumbling to the ground, bell inside the cotton filling the cause of the noise. Jungkook closes the door a bit more now to keep you out of sight. "Just- uh, she'll grab it tomorrow-"

"Her phone and purse are in the pockets." Yoongi says. "I'm sure she'd like it back right now." He challenges, and Jungkook can feel himself squirm uncomfortably under the strong gaze of his packmate, having to avert his gaze. "What's really going on?" Yoongi asks, as the toy hits Jungkook's back again.

"Look, this is really bad timing right now-" Jungkook whines as he kicks the toy back with his food go occupy you at least for just a second to give himself more time to think of an excuse. "-She's.. not feeling well right now." He tries to justify.

"Jungkook you're not being very convincing right now." Yoongi sighs. "What the fuck is going on? Does she hate me?"

"NO!" Jungkook barks, before he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Ah.. God, fuck, alright." He sighs, defeated, letting the door slowly open more, while he turns around to throw the soft fabric ball towards where you sit on the floor, toy flying over your head, making you flop onto your back as you try to catch it.

You don't even realize it's Yoongi who's now in the doorway whole Jungkook sits in front of you to start a game of tug-of-war with the soft llushy toy with you, successfully pulling your attention away from the producer who just silently enters the apartment, and closes the door behind him before he hangs up your coat.

It takes him one good look to realize what's going on.

The hazy look in your eyes. The way you don't even greet him, rather occupied with the game Jungkook plays with you. Your almost clumsy way of movement.

"So that's the secret?" Yoongi hums as he sits down near his packmate, watching you with an unreadable expression.

Jungkook nods. "She's scared of anyone finding out." He reveals, while he watches you now nibbling on his finger instead of the toy, before you yawn.

"Why?" Yoongi wonders. "It's not like it's her fault or choice." He mumbles.

"Yeah, I know." Jungkook shrugs. "But I get it, you know? You hear horror stories about it all the time. Friends and family being weirded out and stuff." He explains, and Yoongi grows quiet.

It really is understandable.

"So that's why you sleep over so much?" He asks, and the younger wolf nods.

"She used to be triggered easily since she didn't have a person to rely on." He explains. "But when I took on that.. role, I guess, she became more stable. It doesn't happen so randomly anymore, she's got more control over it. Today was just a bad day I guess." He shrugs.

"She must be tough to handle." Yoongi mumbles.

"Not really." Jungkook denies. "She's very sweet. The beginning was hard, yeah, but mostly because I didn't know what to do. These days it's become easier." He nods to himself, though Yoongi doesn't miss the look on his friend's face.

"You love her." He states.

And Jungkook only nods.

"I do." He agrees. "It's hard not to."

Yoongi hums in agreement, and Jungkook wants to be swallowed by the ground. Now that the producer knows, he'll take over the care of you- you'll grow closer, emotionally and physically, and you'll no longer need Jungkook to care for you.

His dream is ending, and he hates it.

"She loves you too." Yoongi offers. Jungkook laughs a little.

"Situationally, yeah." He nods.

"No, in general." Yoongi argues, but he can't seem to push through the thoughts of Jungkooks mind, the wolf having already decided his stance on things. "Jungkook.."

"You'll take good care of her, right?" He asks, looking at his packmate with round eyes that try hard not to let any tears fall. "You'll make sure she doesn't have to.. feel ashamed, or bad, right?"

"I'm not taking her away from you." Yoongi shakes his head, and Jungkook nods.

"I know you're not." He says, trying hard to keep it together even as you crawl into his lap to comfort him, sensing his distress.

"She was never mine to begin with."

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You're absolutely mortified when you're informed of what happened- or rather when you connected the dots yourself, after waking from your nap with both wolves next to you in bed.

One look exchanged with Jungkook signals to him that you've pulled yourself out of your headspace- body shaking now with the overwhelming sense of shame you're feeling as Yoongi sits up now as well to look at you with a sense of worry.

"Hey, it's fine." Jungkook reassures easily. "He doesn't hate you or anything, he's cool with it."

"Oh god this is so weird.." you hide your face in your hands, embarrassed by the events unfolding like this.

"Its not. It makes sense, really." Yoongi shrugs. "So this is why you don't want to move into the pack dorm with us?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Its weird. You can say that, I know myself that it is." You sigh.

"You're not weird." Jungkook shakes his head, taking your hand to reassure you. "Promise."

"I agree. This isn't weird, it's something that happens to some." He shrugs. "I still like you." He says without thinking, as you slowly look at him.

"You.. do?" You wonder, and he nods.

"Very much." He smiles a bit awkwardly, when Jungkook let's go of your hand, clearing his throat.

"I'll.. I'll see myself out then." He mumbles, and at that your head snaps towards him.

No- he can't leave like that. Yoongi might've..somewhat confessed, but you still need him. You still want him here.

Wait.

If Yoongi likes you, and toy like him back, and that leads to you Noth becoming partners, that's great. But if that means you can't have Jungkook, you don't want it. You need jungkook.

You love jungkook, too.

"Hey, Yoongi will stay with you, you're not alone anymore-" He tries to settle your clearly bubbling panic, but its to no avail. Your head is filled with the fact that Jungkook wants to leave, and you don't want that.

You want both. Why can't they both stay?

Your cheeks are wet with tears as your puppy-mind refuses to accept the situation. You've slipped right back again, as you make jungkook hold yoongis hand, before you yourself hold onto them, stubbornly holding onto their connected hands, before you lay down on them, eyes closed and ears pinned back.

"I uh.." Jungkook stampers a big awkwardly, attempt at pulling his hand away responded to with a low growl from you, eyes glaring.

"Seems like we'll have to share." Yoongi teases surprisingly, catching the younger wolf off guard as hemeeys the older one's gaze.

"I mean- uh-" he stammers, unsure. "Is that.. will that even work out?" He worries, while you happily fall asleep hiding both their hands.

"Guess we'll have to find out." Yoongi shrugs, laying down again next to you, Jungkook slowly doing the same a few seconds later.

Looks like his dream didn't end after all-

Maybe it just begun.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 5

        [Master List]

   “Danny!”

            Turning towards the voice, Danny held the door to the coffee shop open as a familiar blond came running up to him. “Hey Jesse, you work today?”

            They nodded, walking through the open door. “Yeah, just about to start. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, everything okay?” They eyed him knowingly. Danny had seen Jesse at Mr. Bianchi’s funeral and although they didn’t speak to each other, they’d both acknowledged seeing the other.

            “Been pretty busy with the daycare and some personal things. How’s school going?”

            They sighed. “Exhausting. I have this big test coming up for chemistry and I’m barely passing the class. I’ve spent every spare minute studying, and I still don’t feel like I understand what’s happening! One second.” They vanished into the backroom, returning a few moments later with an apron and hat on. “I haven’t even had time to work on my hobbies lately! Just work and school all day every day! It’s like, yeah I know my education is important but would it kill my professors to give me a break so I can hang out with friends or- god forbid go on a date with my partner?”

            He held out the cash for his drink which Jesse took without a word, still on a roll. Seeing his opportunity when they took a breath, he cut in. “I could help you, if you want?” They eyed him curiously, pouring the first two shots into the hot coffee while the rest pulled. “I have a bachelor’s in bio-chem, I was pretty good at both. Here’s my number,” He scribbled his number down on a drink sleeve and slid it across the bar. “text me a time if you want some tutoring.”

            “Oh my gods,” They breathed, taking the piece of paper. “you’re literally my savior- TIM! Your friend here is a god amongst men! Buy his coffee for him!”

            Danny frowned. “I already paid for my drink though.” He reminded before glancing at Tim. He’d expected the man to be in a suit again, hair combed back neatly, briefcase in hand; that was, after all, how he’d looked when they first met. But it was a Saturday, so it was unlikely he’d be going to any meetings which meant his apparel made a lot more sense.

            The man wore his hair pulled back in a messy half up half down bun, ripped skinny jeans, a red flannel tied around his waist, and a gray t-shirt that said ‘I <3 Mothman’. His ears were adorned by various silver studs and chains that complimented his black leather bracelets. A skateboard was held firmly in his left hand.

            “Well- fine! Free coffee for a month, you’d really be helping me out!” They poured a few more shots into the cup. “I’m in a good mood, Tim your coffee’s on the house today.”

            Tim looked between the two. “That makes absolutely no sense, Jesse. I have more than enough to cover my own coffee. In fact,” as if to prove a point, he pulled a couple hundred dollar bills out of his wallet and stuffed them into the tip jar. “keep the change.”

            “I have no idea what’s happening anymore.” Danny sighed, just wishing for his coffee.

            As if reading his mind, Jesse finally slid his coffee into his awaiting hand before whirling around to start the exact same process with Tim’s drink. Danny hadn’t actually run into Tim again since the first time they’d met. Whether it was because Tim didn’t come every day or Danny had been making more coffee at home these days, he wasn’t sure.

            It wasn’t unwelcome to see the man again, but he wasn’t sure they exactly qualified as friends like Jesse seemed to believe. “How’d those meetings go?” Danny asked after taking his first sip of coffee.

            “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re done and now I’m avoiding any more they try to throw at me like the plague. How’s the Daycare going? You guys opened a little while back, didn’t you?” Tim leaned against the counter, waiting for his own drink to come out.

            With a nod, and another long sip of the boiling hot coffee, Danny replied. “It’s been going all right. Lots of kids now, I’m working on hiring some help at the moment but I’m just glad I can help out, you know?”

            Tim agreed, grabbing his coffee. “Seems like you’re doing something really good for the Bowery.”

            “I’m trying.”

            The two walked towards the door, wishing Jesse a good shift, and headed outside.

            “Well I’m meeting my boyfriend at the skatepark, what are you up to on one of your few days off?” Tim asked, pointed his thumb over his shoulder.

            Danny laughed. “Bold of you to assume I get any days off. If I’m not working at the daycare I’m usually at a soup kitchen or doing paperwork or something else. Today I’m actually just going to the observatory though. Skateboarding is cool though; I didn’t actually recognize you at first with the whole skater thing.” He laughed. “You look a lot more comfortable like this than in the suit getup you had last time.”

            Tim grinned. “Much. And much like you, I don’t get many days off so I’ve gotta head out, make the most of the time I do have off.” He paused. “Actually, wait,” Pulling a sharpie out of his pocket-did he always keep a sharpie in his pockets? - he scribbled something on his drink’s sleeve before sliding it off the cup and offering it to Danny. “here’s my number. We should hang out sometime.”

            Okay Jesse, you win this time.

~~~

            May in Gotham wasn’t nearly as cold as Danny though it would be, although having an ice core might have something to do with that, but he continued to stock his daycare with jackets, gloves, and hats just in case. The recent downpours had forced him to add umbrellas, raincoats, and rainboots as well. He said ‘he’- in reality, he let Dora pick out most of the clothes for the kids. It was something she liked to do.

            Danny shifted uncomfortably at his desk, waiting. Mia’s friend was supposed to come in for an interview shortly and despite his excitement to have more help, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. When Mia said she had a friend who was ‘good people’ and just wanted to help, he had expected someone from the area- not one of Bruce Wayne’s foster children.

            Duke Thomas was eighteen years old, would be graduating from high school at the end of the month, and had been accepted to Gotham U for the following semester. He had a trust fund that would see him through the rest of his life and no need to work, least of all work with children in the Bowery. Maybe it was a bit hypocritical to think that way though- Danny certainly didn’t need to work with children in a random universe in a random city with children from the most rundown part of said city.

            Surprising no one, Danny wasn’t exactly good at the whole ‘boss’ thing. Sure he was a king, but he had a council and he made them take care of the social aspects, and hiring Mia had been different, he already knew her! He’d never actually interviewed someone for a job, and he wasn’t even really sure what he was supposed to say or do.

            There was a knock at his door, and he straightened his jacket out before shouting a calm ‘come in!’. Mia stood on the other side, gesturing for her friend to enter, and sent a glare over her friend’s shoulder directly at Danny. She mouthed ‘be nice’ to which he responded, ‘I’m always nice’, before closing the door.

            “You must be Duke,” Danny smiled. “I’m Danny, pleasure to meet you.”

            Duke shook his hand, it was firm, stronger than Danny expected. “Mia’s told me quite a bit about you, sir.”

            “Oh Ancients, no, call me Danny. I’m like four years older than you at most. Sir is weird.” They both took their seat, Duke shooting him a grin instead of responding, and Danny spread out Duke’s application in front of him. “So Duke, why do you want to work here?”

            Duke clasped his hands in front of him. “Honestly? I think what you’re doing here is really great. I grew up in an area that needed help like this. We never had anything like this when I was younger. It’s a really awesome way to help the community.”

            “That’s good to hear. I’m not from here so getting my feet under me was a little difficult at first, but once I made some connections things got a lot easier. You’re finishing up high school at the moment, right?” Duke nodded. “What are your plans after that?”

            Duke nodded slowly. “I’m going to attend Gotham U, I’m not sure what for yet. But during the summer and the days I don’t have class I want to do something with my time. Something good. I think that’s your daycare.”

            “Do you have any experience with kids?”

            Duke considered the question for a moment. “When I lived in the Narrows I had a neighbor who… had a drug problem. Her daughter came over one day to ask if we had any eggs. She was trying to cook herself food because her mom had been gone for a few days. After that I tried to take care of her. Brought her food, made sure there were leftovers for days I couldn’t, showed her my homework and taught her what little I could. It wasn’t much, but I learned a lot about taking care of little kids.” Something in his voice was tight, which made sense, it was obviously not a happy story. “We’re still friends and she’s doing much better now.”

            Well at least it had a bit of a happy ending.

            Danny liked him. He seemed genuine, seemed like the kind of guy who would do his very best for the kids, and actually wanted to help them. “How many hours are you looking to work in a week and what is your schedule like?”

            It didn’t take long for them to sort everything out. Duke would start the week after school ended, the first week of June, and he would work Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, ten to six, and (despite his protests that it was too much) would be making thirty dollars an hour. Danny really didn’t care if it seemed like a lot, he could pay Duke thirty dollars an hour for full time work for the rest of his life and not make a dent in his fortune.

            Mia gave him a smug look after Duke left. Why? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like Danny had been opposed to her friends working here, he’d encouraged it! He reminded her of that, and she rolled her eyes grumbling something about a hostile takeover, but it was difficult to hear over the shrieking children, even for him.

            With Mia working nine to three every day, and Duke working ten to six three days a week (once school let out), Danny might be able to take a bit of time off in the afternoons on those days. Still, he thought he should maybe hire someone a bit older, with a lot more experience before he could take any kind of trips or vacation time.

            That night, Danny found himself craving burgers. Nasty burger to be specific, but he’d be fully dead before he’d willingly set foot in Amity Park again, so he had to settle for the next best thing. Batburger.

            There was one not too far from where he lived, technically it was over the border into Crime Alley, but he wasn’t exactly scared of Crime Alley. He lived in the Bowery. Arguably worse than Crime Alley. And also, he was already half-dead. He wasn’t exactly worried about getting mugged.

            But get mugged, he did.

            “Hey you!” Someone shouted. Danny sighed, turning around to see a man wearing a mask with a gun pointed his way. “Hand over your wallet and phone.”

            Now, Danny was rich- like, incredibly wealthy, but he didn’t actively carry around large amounts of money. In fact, after buying his and Mia’s lunch that afternoon, he didn’t have any cash on him at all. And his phone was Wayne tech until Tucker gutted half of it an added his own stuff. It wouldn’t be worth much.

            And Danny was capable of going invisible and intangible, so he wasn’t exactly worried about this guy. He honestly felt bad he didn’t have any cash to give him though. “Listen man, I don’t really have anything worth money on me right now. If you want, I can get you a meal at the bat burger though?”

            The mugger looked confused. “What?”

            “I don’t have money on me, just my card which I would totally cancel before you could do anything with it, and my phone is worthless. But I was heading to Bat Burger anyways so if you’re hungry I’d be willing to buy you a meal.” Danny shrugged nonchalantly like his offer wasn’t absolutely insane.

            The gun began to lower slowly, Danny noticed a slight tremor in the man’s hand, and then the gun’s safety was back on, and the gun was stowed. “You’re that guy… My buddy from the Bowery said you hand out meals sometimes. You… you were at the soup kitchen.”

            Danny shrugged again. “Listen man, I do what I can. And what I can do right now, is buy you a meal. If you want.”

            That’s how Danny found himself sat across from a complete stranger eating burgers. Except he wasn’t a stranger. The man had shyly taken off his mask before walking in, afraid the employees and customers would think he was robbing them (a safe assumption) and freak out. The man -Miguel- turned out to be a bit closer to a boy. Probably seventeen (eighteen at most), with dull green eyes, freckles, and ratty brown hair.

            Probably best to act like he didn’t know who this kid was- it would be startling to realize an adult remembered you and your brother after almost being mugged.

            “So, what’s your story?” Miguel asked.

            Scoffing, Danny swallowed a bite and took a swig of soda. “I don’t have one.”

            “C’mon man, everyone’s got a story.”

            Danny raised an eyebrow pointedly. “And what’s yours?”

            The kid glared. “Point taken.”

            Wiping the grease off his hands, Danny leaned back into the booth and sighed. “I’m Danny. I run a daycare in the Bowery because it helps people and that’s what I like to do. Your turn.”

            “’m Miguel.” When he stopped there, Danny raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to keep talking. “Jus’ needed some money for dinner.” Danny had noted that he’d only eaten half of the food he’d gotten and wrapped everything up neatly.

            “Are you saving that for tomorrow? Or someone else?” Miguel pulled back like he wasn’t sure he should answer. “I like helping people. And I don’t do it in the ‘legal’ ways, if you’re afraid of cops or cps or something.” Danny pushed as much truth into his words as he could. Even if the kid couldn’t pick up his aura he pushed genuine-care-worried as hard as he could towards the boy.

            Miguel rubbed his palm with his thumb nervously. “My… my little brother’s waitin’ on me to bring ‘im somethin’.”

            “How old is your brother?” Danny asked. At Miguel’s quickly tensed nature, he put his hands up. “I’m not calling anyone on you, Miguel.”

            The boy shifted anxiously. “Thirteen.”

            Danny nodded, taking another bite, hoping that a moment’s reprieve would help Miguel calm down. “School?” He finally asked. Miguel shook his head, hanging it in embarrassment. “Parents?”

            “…I…” Miguel’s fists tightened, his breathing picked up, and he looked at Danny with panicked eyes. “I take care of him, ‘m really good at it and I don’t let ‘im go hungry or nothin’ and-”

            “Miguel, woah, woah, woah, it’s okay.” Danny comforted. “I’m not here to judge you kid.” He waited for Miguel’s panic to subside, for his words to sink in, before continuing. “I help people. That’s what I like to do, remember? Do you have a job?”

            He shifted uncomfortably. “I… ‘m in a… gang- ‘ts the only way ta get money for someone like me!”

            “Yeah, it’s got to be hard for someone in your position.” Danny finished his burger, wiping his hands again, crumpling the napkin, and tossing it onto the table. “Okay. So. I could use some help in the evenings and on weekends keeping the daycare clean. Toys need to be sterilized, floors vacuumed, and carpets cleaned, that kind of thing. I’d pay well.” Miguel opened his mouth, but Danny kept going. “I could tutor you and your brother on the weekends as well, I imagine he’ll be going into high school next year?”

            “Y..yeah…”

            “How old are you? What year of school would you be in?”

            Miguel fidgeted, clearly confused. “Seventeen. I’d be a senior next year I guess.”

            “Okay, so I can tutor the both of you, get you ready for school next year, and I’ll obviously pay for that too. Where are you living? I can set you guys up with an apartment too.”

            “What the fuck are you sayin’ man?” Miguel looked at him like he was -well- a fruit loop.

            Danny sighed and slid his card across the table. “I know it sounds like a trick; I swear it’s not. I help people. Call me your fairy godmother if it makes you feel better. I’ll let you think about it though, I know it sounds fake and you’re probably worried I’m like, some crazy trafficker or something. So, come find me, or call me if you want that.” He stood up, grabbing his trash. “In the meantime, let me get another meal for you to take to your brother.”

            Miguel’s ‘you’re absolutely fucking crazy’ look didn’t go away in the time it took for Danny to get him another meal (which was definitely more like three meals) so he reminded Miguel to call him and went on his way. Hopefully after the eventful couple of days he’d had, he could sleep in extra late tomorrow.

            Right?

~~~

            Wrong.

            He’d never been more wrong. How come it was so easy to jinx himself? And why did these things always happen to him? Apparently the power went out in the middle of the night and Danny’s alarm decided that meant it should go of at six in the morning (Ancients fuck factory settings), he was going to go back to sleep after shutting it off but the sound of an explosion not too far away woke him back up, so he stumbled out of bed and decided on coffee. What? Explosions were not for ex-vigilantes.

            Except his coffee maker had decided to not come back on after the power went out and he realized the whole thing was broken (he could fix it, but it would be easier to just go out and get coffee for the time being), which is when he thought things were looking up. The barista knew him (not as well as Jesse, but he thought his name was Eddie?), his younger brother went to daycare, and gave him his drink for free. The drink that he promptly spilled all over himself. No Tim in sight to buy him a replacement coffee.

            Fine, he didn’t need it anyways. He needed to go to the grocery store, so he’d just buy a premade coffee- with a lid that screwed on. It was a foolproof plan.

            “You should be more careful, walking in alleyways by yourself.” A hysterical voice called from the shadows of the alley he was cutting through. “You Wayne’s always thinking you’re safe because of the bat. But he’s not here, is he?” When Danny realized who was speaking he decided to nope out of the situation immediately.

            Nope. Fuck that. He didn’t do clowns. Didn’t matter what they looked like, if it walked like a clown and talked like a clown it was a fucking clown. Turning around, Danny moved to walk away from who he assumed was the Joker but had never actually met before. Wasn’t he in Arkham? Jazz had complained about him once or twice. He’d also heard complaints from several of his subjects about the man, a problem he never thought he’d have to deal with personally.

            A hand grabbed his shoulder and before Danny could stop himself he spun around and threw a punch at the man’s face. He. Didn’t. Do. Clowns.

            A sickening crack came from under Danny’s fist and blood poured out of the man’s nose. The man screamed and laughed hysterically; Danny questioned if he really was insane to be laughing at a broken nose.

            What exactly was Danny supposed to do in this situation? Joker decided for him, pulling out a gun and aiming it at the Halfa. Not the smartest move. Intangibility swept through him as the trigger was pulled, the bullet flying straight through him and lodging into the brick wall behind him. It only took another second for Danny to knock the gun out of his hand, grab the man by his shirt, and throw him across the alley into the opposite brick wall.

            The opposite brick wall which immediately collapsed on top of the body he’d thrown. Shit. Jogging over, Danny searched for a pulse. Aaaaaand… there wasn’t one. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. No biggie.

            “Ancients damn it.” He grumbled, pulling his hand away from the dry bleached skin and taking a step back. “Well you really stepped in it this time Danny.” He stared at the body, one hand on his hip, the other rubbing across his forehead as he debated what to do. “Could call the cops, don’t really want them to know I killed a guy, could try to find the bats- really don’t want them to know I killed a guy…. Could leave him here? No, no telling what someone would do with the body- might try to bring him back.”

            “And what have we here?” A deep modulated voice came from above Danny.

            Looking up, Danny came face to face with someone he was honestly surprised he hadn’t met before. The Bowery was part of Red Hood’s territory even if he was more known for his work in Crime Alley and Danny had been almost mugged a number of times, still, he’d never run into the crime lord. Despite knowing he should avoid vigilantes at all costs, Danny couldn’t help the bit of excitement at meeting the one his people called ‘the Avenger of the Dead’.

            Danny remembered the situation he was in and sighed, resigned. “Listen, it was an accident.”

            Red Hood tilted his head, dropping down from the fire escape he crouched on, gun still trained on Danny. When the man glanced toward the body he faltered, hand lowering slightly before looking back to Danny. “What the fuck?” It came out like a whisper.

            “He grabbed me and pulled a gun on me, I… didn’t mean to throw him that hard but I don’t like clowns.” Red Hood nodded as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. If he remembered correctly ‘the Red Hood’ was an old moniker of the Joker’s. Danny found it hard to believe someone nicknamed ‘the Avenger of the Dead’ would be in cahoots with the Joker, so it was more likely that he’d stolen the name to make something better out of it.

            He probably hated the clown more than Danny.

            Holstering his gun, Red Hood looked back to the body. “I’m guessing you don’t want anyone to know?” Danny nodded warily. “I’ll have someone take care of the body, give me a second to make a couple of calls.”

            Danny stood uncomfortably shifting from one foot to the other while the Red Hood moved further down the alley. It gave him an opportunity to study the man. He was, well, to put it bluntly, he was jacked. He was almost a foot taller than Danny with broad shoulders and obvious muscles filling out his tight-fitting suit. It wasn’t like the suit was all spandex either, it was a much thicker material, definitely layered with Kevlar and probably some other tech and protective layers, and yet you could still see every muscle on the man.

            Danny wasn’t checking him out. Not even when the man placed one hand on his hip which jutted out to the side and showed off his extremely firm looking ass. Firm looking? Danny mentally face palmed. You’re not allowed to thirst over a crime lord. Even the Avenger of the Dead.

He tried not to listen in on the conversation- he didn’t want to accidently learn the man’s identity or something and focused on the sound of the city in the distance. Sirens, guns, and the explosions from the morning all indicated an Arkham breakout and his concern immediately shifted to Jazz.

            Whipping his phone out of his pocket he pressed one and called. It rang three times before he heard his sister’s voice.

            “Danny?”

            “Jazz! Are you okay?”

            There was a lot of background noise, and it took her a moment to respond, she was likely distracted. “Yeah I’m fine. The breakout happened before my shift today, I just got in. Listen, the boss is, obviously, not happy so I can’t talk. I’ll call you tonight. Maybe we can do takeout at my place?”

            He confirmed and was quickly hung up on. The timing was good, Red Hood making his way over right after.

            “Okay, I’ve got someone on their way to take care of the body. You need help getting home? Actually- let me rephrase- I’m going to get you home.” His voice left no room for argument.

            Danny argued anyways. “I was on my way to go grocery shopping. I’ll be fine.”

            Hood grunted. “Sorry man but we’ve got an Arkham breakout on our hands. Better for you to get home now and shop tomorrow. Besides, with the Joker dead it won’t take as long to clean everything up.”

            He noticed the way Hood said Joker was dead seemed almost smug, but he didn’t question it. He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re not going to tell anyone that I did this, right?”

            Hood tilted his head and Danny pressed on before he could respond. “Because I mean, technically I killed him, but it was self-defense, and also this guy totally deserved it, but I’m just not totally sure it would look good for me with the parents whose kids I take care of and I would really prefer to not have to explain to all of them that ‘yes I killed the Joker and yes I’m still taking care of your kids’-”

            “Guy!” Hood cut in. “I’m not going to tell anyone. But I think you’d find most people would feel even more comfortable leaving their kid with someone who can defend themselves and their kids. Now let me take you home, I’ve got other people to catch and not a lot of time.”

            Danny relaxed at his words. “Oh don’t bother with me, I can-”

            “Just shut up and hold tight.” Red Hood grabbed Danny’s arm, pulled him close, extended his grapple, and they were flying.

            Now, Danny was used to flying, it was common practice for him even after hanging up his metaphorical cape, he flew on the daily, in his apartment he often found himself floating instead of walking, but flying while gravity was still a factor? Not at all the same. Danny’s arms wrapped around Hood’s neck tight, and his eyes snapped shut on reflex before he opened them again.

            “Where too?” Hood chuckled, swinging (apparently) aimlessly but away from the crime scene.

            Giving Hood his address, which he still wasn’t convinced was a good idea, he found himself enjoying the flight. It would be better with little bags of trail mix and a seatbelt, but he’d suffer he supposed.

            Setting down on the fire escape outside of his window, Hood leaned against the railing and seemed to be sizing Danny up.

            “Well… Uh… thanks, I guess.” Danny wasn’t sure what to say, settling instead for flattening down his hair. Between the shock of killing someone (which he had only done once before, and did Ending Pariah Dark really count? If anything that was worse than killing someone but also entirely different.) and meeting someone many of his people considered their hero (who he had hoped he’d get the opportunity to thank for his selfless deeds at some point or another) Danny couldn’t figure out what would be appropriate to say.

            Hood paused. “Anytime.” Danny snorted. “I mean it.” Even through his helmet Danny felt like he could see something blazing in his eyes. There was a solemnity in the way he spoke. “You killed the Joker. You need anything, come find me or my people. I owe you one.”

            Before Danny could argue (could insist that no Hood didn’t owe him anything, Danny owed him so much more for avenging so many lost souls that Danny had to introduce to the afterlife and they were always so young or powerless or scared and Hood had been able to bring them a comfort he never could so really it’s Danny who owed Hood a favor-) the vigilante leapt over the edge of the fire escape and swung away.

            Danny took a deep, shuddery breath, tearing his eyes away from where Red Hood had disappeared and using his intangibility to enter his apartment.

            He deserved a nap.

~~~

            Sleep never came to him, and he found it was much more elusive than it had been before he’d killed someone.

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