#like i knew my screen time habits were bad but goddamn

[death-himself]

I don't have the energy to type this out so I'm just gonna show what I spammed my friend, but basically my DMEDIA class just called me the fuck out

[goatsandgangsters]

shadow and bone episode 7: suddenly the kudos emails I’ve been getting from ao3 make a lot of sense

also you know what was NOT on my bingo card for this season? getting CONTENT for my TINY LITTLE RAREPAIR DOMINIKOLAI HEART?? 

previous liveblogs should you require more thoughts yelling flailing etc

……okay one more belated comment on episode 6, because I was so floored by the existence of dominik and the intense homoerotic eye contact that I forgot to process dominik calling young nikolai a “quiet wisp.” dominik. dominik he has undiagnosed adhd. they hired you as a whipping boy because it was the only way they could think to make him sit still or shut up dominik. dominik he merrily chattered your ear off for your entire childhood dominik. he recreationally caused explosions with you dominik.

OKAY! HOLD ON! THAT INTRO! A BODY OF WATER BEING FROZEN AROUND A ROCK??????? HAVE MY DEMON IN THE WOOD PRAYERS BEEN ANSWERED? DID I JUST NEED TO BE PATIENT??????????? are we perhaps going to tie the destruction of Keramzin into his own childhood trauma, thus linking together these two events as a loss of innocence and commentary on the cycles of violence wrought from the desperation Ravka creates? is that too much to hope for?

“The tracker is not to be touched by anyone other than me” oh is THAT why my ao3 email every day has a SIZABLE CHUNK of kudos on my Malarkling fic? I’ve been wondering at that one getting more attention than I expected, I really didn’t think it was gonna have much readership

I really like the costume design for his grisha, the richer gem tones are really nice

I knew I’d have to see it based on the episode title, but oh my godddddd do I really need to see this flashback again? it was in THE FIRST FOUR EPISODES of season 1! every single episode! burn it down aleks I have seen this meadow way too many goddamn times

OH OKAY. MALARKLING TETHER SCENE????????? I understand the kudos emails, I understand the kudos emails. “I knew there was something I liked about you,” he said, like a liar. or maybe he’s not lying, we all saw that electricity in season 1. oh my god. the wheezy fucking laugh of disbelief I just made. “DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT YOU’RE THE ONE IN CONTROL HERE”???????? I understand why I’m getting so many kudos now on my kinky Malarkling smut, I understand it.

Ben, I think this is more than 10 book lines you squeezed in. anyway, “you have a bad habit of acting the fool and calling it heroic” IS an underrated book line, thank you Ben for your service and your post-it note covered books and your list of favorite quotes

stop calling each other cousin, it’s weird. IF YOU HAVE TO GO BACK LIKE 40 ENTIRE GENERATIONS UNTIL YOU HIT YOUR COMMON ANCESTOR, I DON’T THINK IT ACTUALLY COUNTS AS COUSINS. I THINK MOST PEOPLE ARE RELATED IF YOU GO BACK THAT FAR.

like obviously we know his prime motivation is not wanting alina to have enough power to tear down the fold, but I DO actually like that he’s arguing from the angle of “what’s going to happen to her without you” because. like. yeah. it’s good, it’s that thing he does where even when he’s arguing for his own ends, he’s NOT WRONG about what he’s saying. he’s using something totally true to make his point. he knows exactly what losing someone important will do to a person. let’s revisit those mal luda parallels we were making in season 1 with this new content/context

I really just don’t know why, of all the people on this show, Archie and Ben have more sexual tension than any other pair of characters. none of the canon ships can hold a candle to …. whatever these two are doing anytime they’re on screen together

RETROACTIVE PREFACE TO THIS BULLET POINT: I wrote this whole spiel about Appreciating The Ambiguity Of Nikolai and Alina’s Relationship, only for that to immediately dissolve a scene later, BUT WHATEVER, HERE WERE MY FEELINGS: I’m really pleased by how they’re doing Nikolai and Alina’s relationship this season. I love that the exact nature of their dynamic is sort of open to interpretation with what/if there are Feelings Feelings, but the trust and warmth and genuine friendship between them is still palpable. like, I have A LOT of feelings about these two and I’m in the “queerplatonic soulmate” camp with them, the “love has many forms and sometimes love is stronger if it’s not romantic” camp, but in a very adamant THAT ISN’T LESSER THAN IF I SHIPPED IT ROMANTICALLY way, like I am DEEPLY FEELINGS about them, because I think they see through each other and understand each other intrinsically. they’re both characters who have been given A Role To Play as a figurehead and I think that when they’re together that’s the one space where they can set those roles aside and find comfort with the only one who really understands the weight of Being A Figurehead (and I think too much emphasis on romantic pining would get in the way of allowing them that vulnerability with each other, and I like The Vulnerability Space more than I like Romance). I’ve never Queerplatonically Shipped something this passionately, but god I have feelings in my hEART about them!! and I like that canon sort of…. lets you go shippy if you want to go shippy, and it lets me go Queerplatonic Soulmate because I want to go Queerplatonic Soulmate

I’m Fucking Feelings About This Scene, they’re both so good, THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO MUCH EVEN THOUGH THEY’VE ONLY KNOWN EACH OTHER A SHORT WHILE!!!

me, writing an entire paragraph about how I like that the show kept the nikolina relationship ambiguous. dominik, five seconds later: sO THOSE ROMANTIC FEELINGS YOU HAVE. me: god fucking dammit. you two, kiss instead. it’s time to make nikolai lantsov canonically bisexual. the people have waited long enough.

okay well as long as I’m paused to tell you My Many Many Headcanons About The Delicate Ambiguity of Nikolai’s Love Life: despite me yelling KISS, my actual default interpretation of Dominikolai is not childhood sweethearts but that there was either a) pining that never got acted on, and then it was too late, or b) nikolai not even realizing until he’s older and dominik’s long dead that in retrospect, Those Were Feelings, bc I think that’s a very first queer love mood. anyway, I will be choosing to interpret dominik asking after alina as being infused with some jealousy, because poor dominik has been quietly carrying a torch for Years  

DOMINIK IS CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH HIM, LOOK AT THIS EXCHANGE. “a king who won’t shut up.” feelings about it, thank you!! much as I have fun with nikolai’s self-aggrandizing humor, I do love that the self-aggrandizement is covering for his very self-deprecating inner monologue

Mal fixing the thing that’s clanking by retying the rope is SUCH a good quiet character moment, it’s the kind of quiet character moment I love, it’s one of those small little actions with a character alone that tells you so much about them, I LOVE THAT WE’RE TAKING MORE TIME FOR QUIET CHARACTER MOMENTS THIS SEASON, I LOVE THAT DESPITE DOING THREE ENTIRE BOOKS WE’RE GIVING THE STORY MORE BREATHING ROOM

this long shot of mal’s face while hugging nikolai has got me like ;____; ARCHIE IS REALLY GOOD, he’s doing “man heading willingly to the gallows” SO fucking well!!!!!

“then I met you and for the very first time I thought this is the life”? oh, we’re even feeding the malolais this episode (malolai? is that accurate? sounds better than nikmal). crumbs for ALL the multishippers of Ravka!

nikolai’s face like “iiiiiiiii also envy Sturmhond’s life. oh god, mY PATH IS ALSO SET. OH GOD.” you can watch in real-time as Mal’s talking that Nikolai is having a whole-ass realization that he’s actually king now oh god

THE “DESERVE HER” HITTIN REAL HARD NOW THAT I ACTUALLY LIKE MAL. god, I will say, “you can’t win unless you kill your love personally” is one HELL of a fucking trope. that is narratively delicious. that is juicy as fuck. but the question remains: do we actually follow through on this emotional set up? or will it all be a convenient bait and switch? Will We Be Brave Enough To Stick To Our Narrative Stakes?

David is So Fucking Cute

oh don’t stop his heart for two minutes, that’s CHEATING! it’s ALWAYS BEEN CHEATING! if you set up emotional stakes and then TAKE A SHORTCUT AROUND THEM, you are SHORT-CHANGING THE WEIGHT OF YOUR OWN NARRATIVE!

“SO WHAT SHOULD WE AMPUTATE” oh david. you’re iconic.

hm. turning Epilogue Narration into Dialogue. that’s Suspicious. are we….. are we perhaps………. making the brave writing choice?

OHHHHH WE’RE TURNING NIKOLAI’S INNER MONOLOGUE INTO A DRAMATIC ROUSING SPEECH, I’M HAVING FEELINGS ABOUT IT!!!!!!

god there are truly SO MANY book lines in this season, WAY MORE than season 1. it’s making me glad I have as good a memory as I do for Sentences. because I’m constantly like AYYY THAT LINE. AAYY!! THAT LINE!!!! AYYYYYYY THAT LINE!!!!!!

my boy my beautiful boy my beautiful perfect boy, I love him so much

also are we gonna have time to volcrafy him? is that coming soon?

“that your religion would deny you satisfaction” “there is other satisfaction” and on that day pekkathias was born and everyone felt confused about it

“HOW MUCH DO YOU NEED” kjshdfgkjhfdg god Archie’s comedic timing / dark humor is SO good this season

“fOR REAL NOW” how is this scene simultaneously so funny and so Deeply Uncomfortably Emotional

AND THE STAKES ARE RAISED

Dominik helping an injured Nikolai along :3333333

YOU KNOW, WHEN I WOKE UP THIS MORNING, “DOMINIKOLAI CONTENT” WAS NOT SOMETHING I EXPECTED I’D BE EXPERIENCING. DID NOT SEE THAT ONE COMING. I know Nikolai mentioned a Dominik a couple episodes ago but I was like “don’t put your clown shoes on, it’s just a guy with the same name” but for once! for ONCE! the shoes were not clown shoes. and here I thought I was gonna have to use that guy from the WWI period drama Paddy did in order to make a very niche Dominikolai gifset. NOPE, I CAN JUST GIF THE GODDAMN SHOW! insane! this is insane to me!

Vladim having an amplifier tattoo instead of bone is a really cool concept

also cool concepts: 1. expanding the fold to cover your battleground, THAT IS A FUCKING STAKE THAT YOU ARE RAISING, I’m extremely excited about it 2. the nichevo’ya popping up and grabbing the volcra by the throat, I love it. this escalation is exciting as hell.

[Volcra munching] OH I LOVE NETFLIX SUBTITLES. NOT QUITE AS GOOD AS [TENTACLES SQUELCHING WETLY] OR [OMINOUS SYNTH MUSIC] BUT YOU DO LOVE TO SEE IT

that now that was an ENTRANCE Inej!!!

“BIG FAN” I love Nina

“NO NO NO NO NO! NO HEROICS!” have you ever seen a man more in love than Dominik I-didn’t-catch-whatever-last-name-the-show-gave-him?

TAMAR AND NIKOLAI HUG!!!! one of my beefs with the later books is that there’s not enough…. friendship between Nikolai and the twins. BUT THERE SHOULD BE. THEY HAVE A LOT OF HISTORY.

Zhaban siblings Squalling together with each of them having only one good arm is Really Good, and I might have to finally forgive Adrik for the crime of being super annoying in King of Scars

Dominikolai shooting together is Really Good, and I don’t know what crime it’s going to make me forgive, but I’ll find one and assign that as my recompense. lack of Oncat, maybe.

me every single time Dominik does Literally Anything in this fight sequence: no don’t be a hero, you’ve already been doomed by the narrative from the start!!!! I know I’m going to watch you die in Nikolai’s arms, I just don’t know WHEN

has anyone in the history of storytelling ever said “cover me” in a heterosexual way? I Think Not

watching Lewis Tan do stunts is EXACTLY as beautiful as I’ve heard. he really does have a beautiful fluid way of moving

THIS COUNTRY GETS YOU IN THE END BROTHER!!!!! SOLDIERS DID NOT CRY, PRINCES DID NOT WEEP, NIKOLAI KNEW THIS, BUT THE TEARS FELL ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

if you’d allow me to put on my literary analysis hat for a moment, I will say that I do think it’s thematically more important that Dominik was originally killed on the Fjerdan front, because it taught Nikolai the ordinary everyday ongoing horrors of Ravka, and the casual violence and loss of life that everyone is subjected to. It’s important that Dominik represents the “every man” killed in the mud and bleeding in the snow, as so many have. That he was just one more death of many—on a regular day, in a regular war, not even particularly noteworthy except to the one person who cared about him—in an endless and ongoing war that treated the entire country as cannon fodder. if you’d allow me to take off my literary analysis hat for a moment, I will say I CANNOT BELIEVE I GOT A MINI-DOMINIKOLAI ARC ON MY ACTUAL TV SCREEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…………david what ARE you doing DAVID YOU DON’T DIE UNTIL RULE OF WOLVES, DAVID WHAT ARE YOU DOING DAVID DAVID DAVID DAVID DAVID

if you’d allow me to put on my literary analysis hat for a moment, I will say that I do think it’s thematically more important that David was originally killed BY FJERDAN BOMBERS, THUS DEMONSTRATING THE SENSELESS ONGOING VIOLENCE OF RAVKA’S WARS—

I am actually going to give props for the camera lingering on Enemy Inferni dying and the other two being gutted about it. most things don’t usually show The Bad Guys mourning their losses, I am going to give a point for that

okay Jesper taking Sankta Neyar’s advice and using his buttons as bullets is Very Good

alright well Dominik’s dead, time to shift into Kazolai mode

augghhhh Nikolai casting that finally look at where Dominik’s lying as they leave, even though he’s out of frame of the camera

we don’t have a lot of time left in this episode, are we going to follow up on the very Demon in the Wood intro sequence, or have I been BAITED AGAIN. hAVE I BEEN DECEIVED. LIED TO. TRICKED. are we not doing that thing I said about the loss of innocence and the cycles of violence, because like, I had a point with that. they need to listen to me, because I have POINTS about THEMES and how to dO STUFF WITH THEM

The visuals on the firebird light streams is VERY good with the red and the wing-like formations

oh god the silence on the end credits oH GOD

anyway, that was some genuinely incredible extended fight choreography that didn’t skimp on the emotional moments in favor of the action, I had a good time

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Peace out" - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

[TW: explicit language, physical violence]

<mmm another Cheesecake Trope™️ This is kinda bad ngl sorry>

[1k followers celebration!]

SUMMARY: Bradley's patience is rigorously tested when your ex-boyfriend shows up unannounced. Maverick strategically admires the ocean.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.1k

Because of his early mornings, Bradley had a habit of sleeping in on weekends. No matter how lovely it was to cuddle him and cruise along the faint line separating dreams and reality, you felt you were wasting your free time, so weekends were those rare occasions when you were awake first. On an off chance, he didn't complain about that but freshly made breakfast had enough charm to settle any discontent. Although, the way you looked in his t-shirt was good enough too.

Bradley was still in bed, refusing to leave the comfort of the cool, white bedsheets when your phone vibrated on the nightstand:

"Someone's texting you!" he called out to you from the bedroom. It was before noon on a Saturday morning and so you couldn't quite figure out who could want anything from you at that hour.

"Who is it?" you mumbled while brushing your teeth.

"Liam," he read off the screen. Bradley felt as if that name should be telling him something like he knew you had mentioned that person before but at the moment, nothing was coming to him.

"What?!" you yelled out. The surprise left you with your mouth slightly open, making you aware of it only when you felt the toothpaste running down your chin.

"Don't get toothpaste on my shirt!" Bradley called after you while you ran back into the bathroom to spit the foam out and wipe your face. "Who's Liam?"

"Don’t even get me started about Liam fucking Jones." You emerged from the bathroom, your hand tightly gripping the poor toothbrush as if it was responsible for some heinous crimes. "He was an amazing man up until we started dating like he just decided that he can stop giving a shit after getting a girl. In the one year we dated, he worked for a whole one shift at Dunkin’ Donuts. One goddamn shift! He stole money from me and refused to eat anything remotely fresh. The longest distance he’d walk was to the convenience store. And then I was the bad guy for ever mentioning anything! He used to say that if I really loved him it shouldn't matter if he's a bum. I still can’t believe I wasted two years of my life on this guy."

In a way, Bradley couldn't wrap his head around the idea that you got together with someone who didn't "deliver". He remembered when he had just met you and your assertiveness, although sparked some yearning and excitement inside him, was also a reason for his quiet anxiety - he could tell from the very first conversation that you don't take shit and rather do not tend to look back. Bradley knew that if he fucks up, he's done for good so Liam's curious "success" seemed more than odd to him. Perhaps, it was exactly that guy, Jones, who brought out of you that alluring and entirely tempting edge of confidence and self-respect.

"What does he want?" you asked in an uncharacteristically serious voice. Bradley seemed amused at your sudden change of mood. It was as if you suddenly found yourself on the battlefield and not in your own bathroom, brushing your teeth.

"Looking past all the sleazy and lame flirting, he's asking if you're still in San Diego and want to meet."

"Text him back 'no' and do not send a picture of yourself, Bradley."

Although he knew you weren't joking, Bradley laughed to himself remembering that one time someone tried to chat you up in your direct messages and you asked him to text that person back because you were busy finishing some last-minute work. The picture he sent simply to rub the rejection in, getting a rise out of the fact that none other than him was the blessed man taking home the red-hot girl - it was, undoubtedly, a pride thing.

Bradley, being himself, waited for the moment you disappeared back into the bathroom to take a picture of himself lying shirtless in the white bedsheets. Your blurry silhouette was visible in the corner of the photograph. Snickering to himself, he hit "send" and tossed the phone right back at the nightstand.

"Can I get my t-shirt back?" he asked when you were walking out of the bathroom.

"You'll have to take it yourself, dear."

"Yes, ma'am." He didn't need anything more to finally get out of bed.

The thoughts of Liam Jones quickly left your mind as you were a little too preoccupied with how engaging daily life with Bradley was. It seemed as if that man simply hated sitting down for a moment, always ready for an adventure or at least some thrill.

It felt as if you had barely made it out of bed when the sun began to set. One of the things you absolutely loved about this part of the world was the fact that evenings didn't come with cold winds, it was quite the opposite - even nighttime could be spent in shorts and crop tops. There was something oddly romantic in toasty midnights.

Like on many other Saturdays, Bradley and you were joining his friends at the Hard Deck to drink a few beers, win a few pool games and laugh a little. It was a great tradition of keeping life a little lighter, a little brighter, than military reality could provide. Walking from the car to the bar, you ran into Maverick who couldn't pass up the opportunity to call Bradley "kid" and get a groan out of him. Teasing Rooster was a pastime you both adored and it seemed as though, although he was never going to admit it, you were members of a very small circle of people who were allowed to do so.

Then, you heard someone call out your name in a bizarrely questioning manner as if that someone wasn't too sure they matched the right name to the right face.

You turned around only to be stunned in surprise for the second time that day: Liam Jones, flesh and bones. He looked different than how you remembered him, a lot more... well-behaved. In a way, it felt strange to see him wearing a polo shirt and loafers, something he had sworn never to put on simply because it was too much like his father. His dark hair looked slightly greasy with the number of styling products he put into it. To your horror, he was holding a quite large bouquet of flowers.

"Liam? What are you doing here?" Somehow, you managed to slip out of Bradley's tightening grip on your waist and rushed to the man in hopes of getting rid of him rather quickly - before he could cause a scene.

"Jesus Christ, not this clown," Bradley groaned but you were already too far to hear him.

"Who's that?" Maverick asked. A teasing smile crept unto his face when he noticed the annoyed expression on Rooster's face. "Oh, you got competition?"

"Please," Bradley scoffed at the ridiculous suggestion. It wasn't that he convinced himself he had no "competition" - he knew it and you made it fairly obvious to everyone. "Don't compare me to a guy in loafers. It's her shithead ex-boyfriend."

"Hey, Bradley, have you ever given her a bouquet even close in size to that one?" Maverick was, clearly, having fun teasing him. He could see how Rooster clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, his face becoming redder as anger only continued to boil inside him.

The flowers smelled lovely but you really wanted to throw them away in an instant. Instead of a gift or courtesy, they were more akin to the fascinating exterior of a dew plant. Additionally, it seemed that two years weren't enough for Liam to learn about your love for Birds of Paradise. Bradley, on the other hand, needed one sentence and soon your house was flooded with those exotic flowers and attached love notes. Liam's bouquet felt uncomfortably heavy in your hands as if you were holding something you weren't quite supposed to.

"I manage my dad's company now," he gloated. It was either a ruse or he really did get a New York accent. "I'm a busy, rich man, baby girl." The pet name, although had been so normal while you were together now made you shudder. It was more than inappropriate for him to use it. "Actually, I had to turn down a few beautiful ladies to be here now."

"Good for them, I guess," you whispered to yourself. "Look, Liam, I don't hate you. I'm genuinely happy you're doing better now, I really am. I just don't want to have anything to do with you. I'm over us, over you. It's been literal years. We had our chance and it didn't work, simple as that. No hard feelings. Let's just live on, man."

Liam's lips tightened in a thin line as if he was holding back his anger. It made you realize that although he looked and sounded like a new man entirely, he was exactly the same dead-end layabout you had known and that Liam Jones did not, in fact, change at all.

"I really want to punch him," Bradley said to Maverick, although it sounded more like he was speaking to himself. His hand was already clenched and the warm night suddenly felt nearly as hot as early afternoon. "I'm gonna throw up," he mumbled while watching Liam try to kiss the back of your hand but you pulled it back before his lips could touch your skin.

Bradley couldn't see your face, only your back but had just the perfect view of Liam's slimy grin filled with misguided self-confidence. He could tell that guy had less than no respect for your relationship and, in a way, it hurt his pride that he was regarded as replaceable after being with you for a few years. Another thing was the annoying sheer audacity Liam needed to have in order to assume he could be a wedge driven between Bradley and you.

"Oh, would you look at this, Bradley!" Pete exclaimed in a theatrical manner and pointed at the ocean - in the opposite direction of you and Liam. "Such a nice view! I’ll just turn around and stare at it for the next few minutes."

"Thanks, Mav," he said while patting Pete on the back before storming toward you and Liam, set on getting his point across.

"You're giving up that easily?" It was the first that Bradley heard coming out of Liam's mouth and it only made his anger rise. "Come on, we were great together! Have you forgotten all about it? You were a queen in a castle." It's pretty ironic for him to say all that when that very night was the first time he has ever given you flowers.

"Dude, you had your shot and you missed shooting your own fucking foot." Bradley's sudden appearance surprised you. For some reason, you had assumed he went inside with Maverick. "You just look stupid."

"Him? 180 pounds of douche? Really?" Liam asked you while rudely pointing at Bradley with his index finger and completely ignoring the comment. His cheeks were slightly raised in contempt. "Come on, baby girl, you can do so much better. You deserve so much better." Bradley rolled his eyes at the clear implication that Liam was the "better option" in his own opinion.

Before you could prevent the two men from starting a cockfight, Rooster swung his fist at Jones's jaw, making the man stumble back as he struggled to keep his balance.

"What the fuck, man!" Liam yelled out while holding his red jaw. It was slowly starting to swell.

"Peace out!" Rooster yelled back before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you toward the bar. To make matter worse, he took the flowers from your hands and threw them in the general direction of Liam.

It would be a euphemism to say you were shocked at Bradley's behaviour but, to be perfectly honest, you weren't that far from throwing hands yourself; talking to Liam was like arguing with a wall. You just didn't quite like the thought of him getting into fights left and right.

"It was really unnecessary to hit him, Bradshaw," you scolded him. Bradley looked at you in with a both surprised and hurt expression as if he had truly expected you to be eternally grateful for his actions. "But it was kind of hot. You're like the first guy to get into a fight for me but I'd rather it's the last one, alright?."

"Kinda hot, you say?" he asked with a playful grin. "Maybe I'll try not to make it a habit."

You yelped feeling his big hand gently squeeze your buttcheek. Bradley Bradshaw was an absolute menace but there was no other you'd rather put up with than him.

[twjournals]

The Right Place

This is the third and final part of the trilogy. I can not thank you enough for the endless support. I did not expect to even turn this into a three-parter, but you asked and you shall receive. You guys are amazing!

So Wrong It's Right

What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, dub-con, all characters are of age, pregnancy, abuse, mild non-con touching, violence

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Your world was in shambles and any move you made to try and fix it only seemed to make what was left crumble. You did not speak with anyone since you had found out you were pregnant, not even May. You did not know what you could even say to her or how you could explain what was going on. You knew she would find out sooner or later, but you had planned on later. You could not even stomach the thought of telling her. It would not be easy and you knew you would probably lose her friendship in the process.

You avoided Peter as much as you could. He always messaged to check up on you, but you would never reply. You were disappointed in yourself. If you had just been the biggest person and moved on, if you had not have gotten drunk, you would not be in this situation right now.

Peter never gave up on you. He had hoped you would come around. That you would understand why your life was going in the direction it was. You needed to get away from the toxicity you surrounded with, especially Chris. You were meant for bigger and better things. You were meant to be more than a housewife. You were to be a mother, a lover, a soulmate. You deserved the world and he wanted so bad to give you it plus more.

You continued to shut him out though. You did not answer his phone calls or his text messages no matter how many times he tried. He sat outside on your fire escape many nights, listening to you crying yourself to sleep. It broke his heart to see you in this situation, but he wishes you would look on the bright side of things. Maybe it was not the greatest timing to have a baby, but it didn't mean your lives were ruined. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. Sometimes change is required for what we need in our life and you weren't necessarily open to it.

He honestly had tried to give you your space. He stuck to the rooftop above you where you could not see him when you would finally leave the house for work. You always looked so beautiful to him, even if he knew you had been crying all night. If you would just answer his messages, he would not have to go this far.

Peter watched you many mornings on your way to work. He followed your bus all the way to the place he prayed you would never go. He kneeled on top of the building, watching as you stared sadly at the front doors of the clinic. He wished you would turn around. To save him from having to web you down before you got in the building. You were picking at your sweater. No matter the number of times you found yourself standing outside the clinic, you never could bring yourself to even reach for the door.

You were at war with yourself. Peter could tell you fought against the changes, but your heart could not bring you to stop them from happening despite how unhappy you were. It always ended with a sigh and with you proceeding to walk the rest of the way to work. Peter seemed to hold his breath until you walked away.

Work was always a drag now. You had nothing to look forward to anymore but everything in the world to worry about. You stared at your phone as it lay against the computer screen. You rubbed your face tiredly.

You knew it was time to let go of your past. You sighed deeply, taking your phone in your hands and clicking on Chris's old messages. You began typing.

Are you able to come by later?

You noticed he read your message right away. You sat your phone down, still staring at the screen when he responded back.

Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.

You told him you would message him once you got home. You were sure what time you would get off when it came to your job. You wrote a company and spent the hours necessary to do what you needed to do.

By the time your workday had finally ended, you were having mixed feelings about inviting him over. Being pregnant did not help your feelings from being all over the place. Your thumbs hovered over the keypad on your screen. You were hesitant. Even if he had said he respected whatever you decided, you knew he could not entirely mean that. You quickly typed out that you were home and hit send before you could give yourself time to think almost about it. Maybe you should have thought about it a little longer.

Peter was stuck at school for one of his night classes. He dreaded his night classes now more than ever considering your condition. He had already skipping enough classes due to worrying so much about you. He could not afford to flunk out of school now after all the time and effort he had dedicated already. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on you, he tried to give you room to breathe, to think, and process.

You pushed his bags in the living room by the door, straightening your sweater to keep it off of your stomach. You were not big to others, but to you, you worried if people can tell. You did not want to chance it and certainly not with Chris. You wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

Your heart almost leaped from your chest at the knock on your door. You slid the chain from the lock and pulled the door open to see his face light up as soon as he saw you.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hi." You leaned against the door slightly as you moved out of the way for him to enter.

"I'm so glad you're giving this a second-" He stepped into the apartment, noticing bags of his belongings to the side of him and he grew quiet. "You're not giving me a second chance." He pointed out and you frowned slightly, still standing by the door.

"I think it is what's best for the both of us." Your voice was quiet and calm, but in your mind, it was the hardest thing possible for you to say.

"Is it?" His voice seemed bitter and you looked down at your feet, nodding slowly. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. He turned to face you fully and you hesitated to make eye contact with him.

"It is. I still want the best for you."

"Do you not believe I can change? I don't understand. What can I do to change your mind?" He pressed.

"Please don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought. It consumes my mind to no end. I just need to focus on myself right now."

"Imagine that." It was silent in the room and you glanced at him, only to find him shaking his head with a snicker. "It's not what's best for the both of us. Not for me. This is what's best for you. Can't imagine how I even thought you could be anything but selfish."

"Chris, I just want to keep this civil."

"Good for you." He pulls the door from your grasp and slamming it shut, startling you. "That's all you've ever been, hm? You're gonna have to lose that mindset if you plan on marrying me."

"I don't-"

"You will." He corrected, moving so close you could feel his breath across your face. "I put too much time into this for you to walk away from me."

You swallowed hard. The man who stared back at you was far from familiar. You tried to step around him but he only pushed you back into your place between him and the wall.

"Goddamn it, just get your stuff and go!" You raised your voice and he slapped his hand hard across your cheek. It was strong enough to make you see stars in your eyes. You yelped at the impact and held your cheek as it stung in pain.

"You watch your fucking tone." He stared down at you. He had never hit you before in the years you had been together. He never raised a hand to you, but then again, he never raised one for you either.

You could not imagine how much worse this would get. You left sick to your stomach when he grabbed your chin, tilting your head upright to look at him, stroking his fingers across your stinging cheek as his eyes flickered over your face in thought.

"Truth to be told, I think it's you who needs to change. I put up with so much from you. You had me in the beginning. Thought I was getting this wild, sex-crazed wife, oh, the fun we use to have. The drunken nights." He stiffed a laugh as he let his free hand grab the end of your sweater. "You really had me fooled, didn't you sweetheart?"

You were scared to move. Scared that one wrong move and he would hit you again, maybe worse. You closed your eyes, hoping Peter would answer your prayers. You regretted how much you ever took advantage of his kindness. How long you acted like you never noticed. You had always noticed. You felt his hand push underneath your shirt, and his gaze grazed over your stomach.

You noticed the way his hand froze against the small curve of your rounded stomach and he instantly lifted your shirt to see the problem. Your vision was blurred from your tears as he stared at your stomach with wide eyes. You could tell he was getting pissed.

"Really looks like you've been focusing on yourself." He lets your sweater fall back down over your stomach. His grip was still firm on your jaw, giving you no choice but to look at him. "You have some nerve to leave me. I could bet money it's Parker's. It is, isn't it?"

You could not bring yourself to admit it, but you did not have to.

He shoved your face from his hand, causing you to hit your head hard against the wall as he let you go. "You fucking make me sick."

You tried to keep your sobs quiet, listening to his footsteps moving away from you, listening to him jerking his bags up. "Better it's his problem and not mine." He muttered before slamming the door shut behind him.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you sat up against the wall with a sob. You didn't realize how much you needed Peter until now. You were sure he would have been successful if Peter had not have stopped. You hugged your knees as you tried to catch your breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

After a moment, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself to your feet. You let out a whimper quiet, feeling mild cramps in your lower stomach. You frowned as you turned the lock to the door, pressing your forehead against it as you held your stomach from the pain. It only seemed to worsen the longer you stood there. You weren't sure what was going on, but you had a feeling whatever it was, it was not good. You stood like that hoping the cramps would ease, but they never did.

It was close to the end of class when Peter's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out of his phone slightly to see who it was. He glanced up at the professor who had still proceeded with his lecture and Peter lowered his head to answer. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him after all this time of avoiding him.

"Y/n? Is everything okay?"

"I think something is wrong." You whimpered quietly and he raises an eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean "wrong"? Is the baby okay?" He looked up at the teacher who was making eye contact with him now as he talked.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

That was all it took to get Peter moving. He grabbed his books off of his desk and tossed them in his bag while he scrambled from the classroom.

"It hurts." You rubbed your lower stomach like you always did when you had cramps before. Cramps were normal, but with being pregnant, you could never be too sure what they really meant.

"I know, love. I'm so sorry. Hang tight. I'm on my way." He reassured you as he sprinted out of the building.

---

You lay back on the hospital bed, sighing as Peter ran his hand over your bump in gentle circles. For once, you let him. Your cramps had surprisingly lessened since Peter had shown up, but he did not want to take any chances. It was better to be safe than sorry. He was so worried about you and the baby.

Nurses had been in and out of the room, doing blood work, swabbing, anything necessary to get to the bottom of this. Peter was quiet as he sat on the side of the hospital bed, focused on the massage he was giving your stomach. This was the first time he had touched you since the night you found out you were pregnant.

You could not help back to smile slightly to yourself as his long gentle fingers worked over your skin. He must have sensed your stare because it was not long before his eyes glancing up to meet your stare.

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is this okay? I'm not making it worse, am I?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm just watching."

He smiled at you while he continued his massage to your tummy. His eyes looked toward the door when a nurse came in, rolling some equipment over to the bedside.

"Miss. Y/l/n, your lab work should not be much longer. If you do not mind, I would like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. Is that okay with you?"

You nodded and Peter took his hands back to let her work. She rolled over a chair, taking some gel and squirting some across your lower stomach. The nurse rolled the transducer over the gel and smearing it in as she applied some pleasure in search of a heartbeat. You watched her roam your stomach, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes widened slightly when the sound of the baby's beating heart filled the room. Once the nurse got a clear view, she turned the screen to show you and Peter what she was seeing.

You looked over at the monitor, your heart fluttered slightly at the first sight of your baby. That was your baby, even if it was only a little bean now. You could not stop the smile from forming on your lips. This little bean was life was growing inside of you. This brought a whole new light to your pregnancy. It was like a light had switched on. You did not know how to explain the overwhelming feeling. It felt more real after seeing him or her.

Peter was just as taken back as you. His grin never faded at the sight of your baby. It only made him 10x more eager to be a dad.

"Look at that. Already looks like me." Peter teased and you giggled, considering he or she was not much more than a heartbeat at the moment.

"I can definitely see it." You grinned as Peter rest his hand over yours, sliding his fingers between yours. He brought your hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of it. You watched him kiss your hand and shivered slightly. You did not know what to think of everything at this point.

The nurse checked the baby's heartbeat before turning to the computer behind her and check your lab results with a quiet hum as she scrolled through your charts.

"Well, it seems like everything is just fine. Your baby is certainly healthy and has one of the strongest heartbeats I have ever heard." You looked over at Peter and he only grinned. You could thank Peter for that and all of his spidey senses.

"Your blood pressure was pretty high though and considering your history, your blood pressure has always been perfect. Have you been stressed out lately?" She looked back at you and you nodded slightly.

You were ashamed at how stressed you had let yourself get. "Well, I won't ask for details but if it is anything I can help you with, I would be happy to help. If not, I would stay to keep the stress to a minimum. Your baby does feel anything you feel, so some things can be too much and really take a toll on them." She explained. "Think of this as your baby reminding you to breathe."

You smiled, feeling Peter giving your hand a warm squeeze.

"If your blood pressure does continue to be high, we will see if we can do something to help." You nodded again as she made out some prints of your ultrasound and handing them to you. "If you don't have any questions, I'll let one of the other nurses know and they can keep your paperwork ready for you to go home." She took a paper towel and wiped your stomach clean before tossing it.

With that, she gathered up her equipment before rolling it out of the room with her. You pulled your sweater back down over your stomach.

"Hear that. Now do me a favor and leave all of the worrying up to me." He looked up at you as your eyes stayed glued to your ultrasound prints. His eyes flickered over your face, landing on the bruising mark on your cheek. He reached up, moving a piece of hair back of your face to get a better look. You flinched at the contact. Peter seemed taken back by your flinch.

"What happened? How'd you get that?" You kept your head down with a small frown.

"I invited Chris over to get his stuff. He thought I was taking him back. He didn't take it well." You explained and his eyes widened.

"He hit you?!" You reached Peter's hand as he started to jump up from the bed. "I'll kill him. I swear to you-"

"Peter, please. It's over with now." You assured him, tugging his hand to pull him back to the bed to sit down again. "He's not worth it."

Peter frowned, letting out a deep sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He did not want to stress you any more than you had already been. "I'm sorry he did that to you. I wish I could have been there."

"Honestly, I needed this. It made letting go of him a lot easier."

"Was that all he did?"

You grew quiet.

"Did he..."

"No, he didn't." You shook your head after he could finish his sentence. "He saw that I was pregnant and left."

Peter tried to keep his composure as his fist clenches out of your sight. He could not imagine how someone could lay a single finger on you with intentions to hurt you. He was quiet. He was trying to hold it together for your sake.

"He didn't say anything?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing your thumb across the print. "Just that he was glad it was your problem and not his." You shrugged your shoulders slightly. "Even though it's not a problem, I am glad it's you and not him. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a baby with someone that selfish."

His clenched fist loosened at your words and his eyes softened. He could not believe his ears. Were you really saying this?

His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "You mean that?"

You smiled at him with a nod. "I do. You're so selfless and care so much about what you can do for others. Even though I've been selfish, you still stuck by my side. I honestly couldn't ask for a better father for my baby."

His smile widened as he looked at you, resting his hand on your small bump. "Our baby."

You rested your hand on top of his with a smile, nodding your head. "Our baby." You agreed.

---

It was not long after that the nurse gave you the okay to leave. Peter had stopped to get you something to eat before he took you home. He wanted to make sure you had been fed. All of the little things like this had slowly pulled you closer Peter. You were not used to how observant and patient he was. As much as you knew how wrong your whole situation was, you could not help but to give in to it. Despite your age, Peter had treated you better than any other guy you had been with. Even better than the one you had been with for years. Peter was the blessing you never knew you needed. He was the blessing in disguise.

He held onto your hand, walking up the steps to your apartment and using the keys to unlock the door for you. He didn't expect you to let him stay. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay before he left you alone.

"Thank you for everything." You looked up at him as you both stood in front of your door.

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me."

"You know I owe you."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You don't owe me anything. You're having our baby. I consider that payment enough." He teases, his hands resting on your waist. He could not help but touch you. In every possible, he would if he could. Your cheeks blushed at his response, looking down but Peter let his finger hook underneath your chin to tilt your head back up. Your lips were barely an inch apart when the moment was quickly ruined.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" A familiar voice pulled you from your moment, making your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when the realization hit. You did not even have to look over to know it was May. Her face was red in anger when your eyes met hers. "You ignore me for weeks and when I come to check on you, you're smacking lips with my nephew?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your lips parted to say something, but no words came out. You did not where to begin with explaining yourself to her. You knew this was all wrong, but it was all too late.

"I thought you were hurt, but obviously, you're perfectly fine." She was fuming.

You never wanted her to find out this way. You wished you had more time to think about it and figure out a better way, but this was it. This was the moment of truth and you were terrified to lose your best friend. You felt tears forming in your eyes and Peter frowned.

"Aunt May, stop."

"Stop?! I'm not going to stop! You're not going to use my nephew so you can get over your worthless ex-boyfriend."

"Aunt May!"

You fought to hold back your tears until you could not anymore. You felt the tears running down your face. As much of a low blow that was, you felt you deserved to hear it. "Peter, i-it's okay." You struggled to form your words. You were hurt, embarrassed, ashamed.

"No, it's not." He shook his head, pointing a finger at May as she stood only a few feet distance from the two of you by her car. "You've gone too far."

"I don't understand how you think this is okay, Y/n." She shook her head, ashamed at you.

"I didn't expect for it to be like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You confessed.

"Just like you never meant for all those one-night stands to happen huh? I trusted you!" She yelled, making you flinch. You hung your head in defeat, glancing at Peter with sad eyes before going inside. You could not stomach the rest of the conversation without sobbing. You tried to calm yourself once you were inside.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled suddenly. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to decide what is best for me, Aunt May. I'm not here against my will and neither is she."

"She's supposed to be my friend." She didn't know what to make of this.

"You're supposed to be my Aunt! You knew how hard I crushed over her. For years you knew."

"I thought it was just a crush."

He moved closer to her in the parking lot. It was never just a crush. He was head over heels for you. "I love her. I've always loved her. You're can either respect it or accept it, because it's either way, she's pregnant and nothing is going to change that." He stood by her car.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She did not know what to think. Never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but then again never would have you.

"Pregnant?" Her voice was quiet.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad, Aunt May." He pulled his copy of the prints out of his wallet and showing them to her.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. There was nothing she could do about that. May stared at the prints for a moment, trying to process everything in the short time it had all happened.

"Peter... I don't understand..."

"She almost had a miscarriage today because she's been stressing herself out over Chris. You're not going to take this away from me." He looks down at her, taking the prints back from her." He looked down at her as she stared back with a small frown. "Go home, Aunt May before we both do something we'll regret. You can come back when you're ready to apologize for this." He held the car door open for her and she hesitated before slowly getting in the car.

She knew she was in the wrong for how she had handled things, but Peter did not give her the chance to even risk making things worse. Peter felt deep in his heart despite everything she would come around. She would realize how happy you made him and she would accept it, but for now, she needed to leave.

Peter walked back to your front door, knocking on the door with a sigh. After a few moments, you moved from your spot on the couch to answer the door. You opened it slightly to see Peter and you glanced behind him at May's car pulling out of the parking lot.

"How are you?" He frowned when he saw your red watery eyes.

"I feel awful."

He sighed when you finally let go of the door and he stepped inside of the apartment. He let the door close behind him. His arms wrapped around your body instantly, pulling you against mine as he hugged you, resting his head against yours and kissing the top of it. "I'm so sorry. I know it's hard to believe now, but she'll come around. Just give her some time."

"She was going to find out sooner or later. I expected that reaction. I just wasn't prepared for it right now." You pointed out as your head rested against his chest, letting him hold onto you.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. You relaxed in his arms. Your eyes were burning from all the tears shed. Peter scooped your body up in his arms bridal style, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, sliding into the bed with you as his arms naturally found their way around your waist. Your head fell to his chest as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"I'm starting to think I can never make the right choices." You admitted, laughing slightly to yourself and Peter tilted your head up to look at him.

His lips pressed a kiss to your nose. "Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places." He assured you before leaning in to close the space between your lips and kissing your lips.

He was true to word. No matter how much you held yourself back, every wrong choice you had ever made in your life brought you to this moment with Peter. This opportunity with Peter to finally get your life right. It was your chance to allow yourself the happiness you knew you both deserved.

End Credits Scene

He was not sure how long he had been sitting with his wrists and ankles restrained to a chair in the middle of a dark room. Maybe hours. It even could have been days. He was not sure. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light that poured into the room when he finally heard a heavy door open.

"Oh good, you're awake." He was covered in sweat from fear and the heat of the closed-off room. He could make out bits of a red and blue suit. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his eyes widened at the sight of Spiderman in front of him. He did not understand what was going on. Spiderman is supposed to save people.

His mouth was covered with solid webbing so he could not speak.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Peter moved closer to him as he spoke. He leaned down, ripping the webbing from Chris' mouth and making him cry out in pain from the grip it had on his skin. "You see Chris if there's one thing I hate, it's people who hurt the people I care about."

"W-What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

"Don't play dumb." Peter gritted his teeth underneath his mask, backhanding Chris across the face before gripping his jaw. "You know exactly what you did, but that's okay because it won't happen again. You'll never touch Y/n again. I'll make sure of that."

Blood dripped from Chris's mouth from how hard Peter hit him. "I should fucking kill you for putting your hands on her." He smirked to himself when Chris starts squirming under his grip. "But I won't."

"I won't. I won't touch her again. I swear-"

"Oh, I know you won't." Peter let go of his jaw before backing up towards the door again.

"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to let me go?" Chris started to panic as Peter pulled his mask off for Chris to see his face. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw if he died and the thing he would definitely remember if he lived.

"I didn't say I was going to let you go. I said I wasn't going to kill you." He smiled and Chris's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Peter Parker standing before him. "I was thinking we could make a game out of this. I hear you like games. Let's see just how important you really are. I'm gonna leave you here and we're gonna see if your friends succeed with their search party if they even send one out. I can't imagine what they would care about scum like you for, but I guess we'll see. I give you about 48 hours before your body finishes you off itself. That should give you more than enough time to think about what I've said. That's if you do make it and I don't really have faith that's gonna happen, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to get the hell out of New York. I promise to you if ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Chris swallowed hard as Peter stood in the doorway once more, the sun outlining his figure at the door. He was scared of the possibility of not being found. He was furious that a guy like Peter was capable of putting him in a situation like this.

"They'll find me and when they do, you're a dead man, Peter Parker." He pulled at the restraints on his arms with all of his might but he did not stand a chance against the webbing. Peter made it look so easy.

Peter grinned at Chris's promise. He loved the challenge. The possibility that even if someone did find him, he would have the pleasure of killing him himself. It amused Peter that Chris could even have the nerve to threaten him in the position he was in.

"Well, let the game begin." He gave a wave as he started to pull the door closed. Chris yelled to the top of his lungs until the heavy metal door ceased his screams.

[starcats1219]

The Creative and the Deceitful

Roceit (platonic/romantic)|| 1600 words || ao3

Summary: Janus knew a lot about the others, not that they knew much about him in return. That is, until Roman discovers his guilty pleasure.

Janus knew people's secrets.

He knew Logan's glasses were purely for aesthetic, not from any inability to see. He knew Patton played vintage video games from Thomas' childhood when stressed. He knew Roman was secretly into mystery novels. He even knew that Virgil and Remus faked their rivalry for the camera and the others, when in actuality they consistently had true crime binge nights throughout the week. Janus knew all this and more, yet the other sides didn't know nearly as much about him.

They didn't know his secret passion for fantasy novels, or that he wrote fake court scenarios in his spare time. They didn't know he was scared of ferrets or that he hated the colour teal. But there was one secret pleasure of Janus that nobody knew, one he kept so hidden the others had nearly no chance of ever discovering it.

His secret love for soap operas.

Janus would be the first one to admit it, soap operas were objectively bad. They were overdramatic, with bad acting, and even worse plot twists. But goddamn, if Janus wasn't addicted to watching them. Something about watching these people's lives come undone by one little secret and one big screaming session just seemed so...entertaining. Did that make Janus a bad person? He didn't think so.

Every day, he would escape to his room for an hour or two to catch up on his daytime TV. The other sides never cared enough to ask where he went each day, and he didn't want them to know. It worked out well for everyone.

Until one day, when it didn't.

-

Janus had been relaxing on the couch, glass of wine in hand, watching today's episode of The Young and the Restless. This episode had been fascinating, tying up loose ends while starting other plot points in the same breath. It was easy enough to follow, as most soap operas were, but that didn't shake Janus' interest. He took a sip of his drink while watching the drama unfold on screen.

He had been so focused on the show, he didn't hear the knock on his door. Nor did he hear the faint calling of his name through the thick wood. All Janus knew was one minute, he had been watching the soap, not a care in the world, and the next, his door had flown open and Roman of all people was standing in the entrance way.

The deceitful side jumped at the crash of his door opening, fumbling for the remote to stop the show before the creative side could see it. But it was too late. Roman had froze, eyes darting from Janus to the TV and back again, before straightening up. He spoke, tilting his head to the side.

"Was that The Young and the Restless ?"

Janus' eyes widened, and he took a breath before responding in a drawn out manner that sounded fake even to him.

"...no."

"You sure? Cause I love some good Y&R, and that looked suspiciously like Victor Newman. Wanna change up your story a bit?"

Janus swore under his breath. Of course Roman had to be the one to catch him. The side notorious for nicknames and teasing his fellow sides was the one to discover his guilty pleasure. Just his luck.

He fell back on his couch with a sigh.

"Fine, yes, it's Y&R. Go on, what stupid nickname are you gonna use for the next week? Or are you gonna let all your little friends know about the snake's secret habit first?"

Roman seemed taken aback.

"Quite the opposite, my slippery friend! I too find myself enjoying the occasional soap, but I haven't been able to watch any in freaking for-ev-er. Catch me up, will ya?"

And with that, Roman plopped onto the couch next to Janus.

Realizing the prince had no intention of leaving anytime soon, Janus started retelling the plot of the episode.

"Uh, Mariah is about to go into labour with Steffi's baby, but Sunny kidnapped her and took her to his creepy cabin in the woods. But it looks like Steffi and Jacob are about to find her, they just knocked Sunny out."

Roman let out a low whistle.

"They really don't keep these things low action, huh?"

Janus quietly agreed, before hitting play.

-

This quickly became a routine.

Each day, Janus would slink off to his room to watch his shows, and not long after Roman would join, quietly asking for a summary of the episode so far. After the show had ended, the two would talk for a bit, at first just about their opinions on the characters and plot, but slowly talking about their personal lives. When Roman would complain about his creative blocks, while Janus would offer his best advice. And when Janus moaned about Thomas' self care, Roman listened with a sympathetic ear.

They even began to talk outside of their soap sessions. Passing each other in the hallways, conversations and dinner, the two seemed friends with each other, much to the other side's surprise. Who would have thought 'light' creativity and deceit would get along so well?

Janus sometimes found himself hoping that he and the princely side could become something more than friends. But, even friendship was a miracle in and of itself, and Janus was content to let it stay that way. So did Roman.

That is, until "Putting Others First"' was released.

-

Janus knew something was going to change after that episode. Tensions had been high around the whole mind palace, sides barely talking to one another, and when a conversation was held, it was strained and awkward.

So while Janus had been expecting it, it still felt like a punch to the gut when Roman didn't show up to any of their soap opera sessions for weeks. Janus knew he had hurt his friend, he had hurt all the sides in one way or another, but this one hurt the most. Attempts to talk to Roman were futile, the creative side refused to even look at him, and the other sides were mad enough that they weren't willing to do any peacekeeping. So, Janus resorted to other methods.

He looked to his soap operas. The love stories, the screaming matches, the drama, the misunderstandings. Janus and Roman watched soap operas for different reasons, but both held the same central idea at its core. They enjoyed people falling in love as dramatically as possible.

After all, Roman was quite literally the embodiment of Thomas’ passion and dreams. Dreams like becoming a Broadway actor and falling in love with the perfect Disney prince. Drama and romance was his department. Janus was no different. He was deceit, lies and misunderstandings and the drama that came with it was what he specialized in. And he was part of Thomas, how could he not be a sucker for romance?

And that’s how Janus found his answer.

Every day after his personal soap time was complete, Janus would write a small summary of the episodes he had watched, and slip it under Roman’s door. He had no idea if the princely figure read the notes he sent, since he gave no indication of it whenever the two were together. So, Janus knew he had to step it up a notch. Along with his summaries, he would add little notes for his once-friend.

Roman,

I’m sorry. Please talk to me. I know I’ve made mistakes, but I never wanted to hurt you. You are my friend…if you want to be, that is.

-J

Roman,

I hope you’re reading these. Even if you never want to speak to me again, I want you to know how sorry I am.

-J

Janus had never considered himself an honest person. Lying was part of his job description. But, writing those notes to Roman, the deceitful side couldn’t think of a time he had ever been more honest. He let himself tell the truth on those papers, no double speak, no double meanings or sarcasm, just the full truth. He left his whole heart on the paper, so to speak. All he could was hope it worked.

A month after the letters started, he got his answer.

Halfway through Janus’ daytime watch, there was a soft knock on the door. If he had been any more invested in the episode, he would have missed it. But, it was just loud enough that it caught his attention.

Squashing the spark of hope in his chest, Janus opened the door and came face to face with Roman. His breath caught in his throat as he and the princely side stared at each other. Then:

“I’m sorry.”

Janus seemed taken aback as Roman said the same words as him. Why was he apologizing? Janus was the one who had hurt and betrayed him, not Roman. Seeing his confused face, the creative side moved to explain.

“I got your messages. And I uh, realized I haven’t been completely fair to you. And so…I forgive you, Janus. And I’m sorry.”

Janus felt tears slowly run down his face, as Roman reached forward and brushed them away. Before he could stop himself, he pulled the creative side into a hug, holding him tightly. He felt Roman squeeze him back, and the two let go after a moment, smiling at each other slightly.

“You’re forgiven too, Roman. Thank you.”

Roman’s smile widened, and Janus gestured through his door to the paused TV.

“Would you like to come in and watch the rest of the episode?”

“Of course. Catch me up, will ya?”

[hispipsqueak]

Late Night Calls

Tsukishima x F!Reader (NSFW)

A/N: Finally, writing about the actual love of my goddamn life. I hope you guys enjoy it! Yes I listened to the entirety of Ariana Grande’s discography while writing this.

TW: Daddy kink, sex over video call, semi public sex, dirty talk, exhibitionism (kind of?), mutual masturbation, no actual sex. 

The night was lonely and your bed felt way too big.

You rolled over for the twelfth time that night, looking over to the empty space where your boyfriend, Kei Tsukishima, usually slept. He was away at a game with his team, the Sendai Frogs, and even though you were extremely proud of his accomplishments, you couldn’t help but miss his large hands wrapped around your waist while you slept. You picked up your phone from the nightstand.

3:15 A.M

You groaned into your pillow. You had work in the morning, but without sleep, you knew you were going to be absolutely miserable. You tapped your phone until you found his contact name, and sent a quick text.

“Hey baby! I know you’re probably sleeping. Just miss you. Hope your trip is going well. <3”

You closed out of the app, and began to scroll through social media until your phone vibrated with a new text.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, little girl?”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words. Tsukishima had a habit of making you feel so small in the best way. Call it an authority kink, but you loved it.

“So bossy. Plus, I can’t sleep without someone stealing my covers.”

You smiled, and curled up against his pillow. You could still smell the faint scent of his body wash embedded in it, which brought you some comfort. Your phone buzzed again.

“Sounds like a personal problem. Sucks to suck.” followed by a yawning emoji. 

You rolled your eyes. Though Tsukishima had definitely matured since high school, he was still a sarcastic jerk when he wanted to be. You looked around, before inspiration struck. You giggled to yourself and pulled the strap of your tank top down. You tousled your hair a bit, and grabbed his pillow, placing it in front of your chest, giving a peek of the top of your chest. Your mouth formed a sultry pout and you snapped a pic and sent it to him.

“I’m too cute to sleep alone.”

You waited for his response, hoping he didn’t fall asleep. What you didn’t expect was the chime, alerting you of a video call request. You accepted and the sleepy face of your boyfriend filled your screen. 

“As much as I agree, you need to get to sleep, doll.” Tsukishima said, his voice low. You figured he was rooming with a couple of his teammates and had to be quiet. His earbuds seemed to confirm this.

“I’m trying, but this bed is like, way too big. And I miss you, loser.” you pouted, knowing there was nothing he really could do but feeling bratty anyway.

His lip twitched with a small smile.  

“I miss you too, brat. But, I’m going to be away for two more days and I’m pretty sure you’ll die if you don’t sleep until then.” Tsukishima, turned and propped himself on his arm. You looked at him and were reminded by how gorgeous he was. His lips were soft and pink, his sleepy eyes were like liquid gold, and you could see the shadow of his Adam’s apple when he spoke again.

“What are you staring at, shortcake?”, he teased and your face flushed. 

“Aren’t I allowed to stare at my hot boyfriend?” You smiled and he rolled his eyes. But even through the phone you could see the blush creep on his cheeks. 

“You’re such a pervert.” He said, clearly at a loss for better insults.

“Like you aren’t. I know you only called me because my tits looked amazing in that picture I sent you.” You said, moving against the wall, so you could tease him with a slightly better view of them.

He parted his lips slightly, before looking back into your eyes. “Well, I certainly can’t argue with that, doll. Though, I might need a refresher, since I’ve been away for so long.”

You smirked at him. “Aren’t you in a room with other people right now? Pervert,”

He cocked his eyebrow and gave you a stare that you felt electrify your body.

“How about you stop being a brat and show me how much you miss me, little girl?” His voice was still low, but commanding. You could feel the heat pool between your thighs.

You slid off your tank top and the urge to cover yourself from his piercing gaze was overwhelming. He could see your arms itching to move to create some sense of modesty.

 “You look absolutely delicious, baby doll. Play with your tits for me.” He said, while his hand found its way to his boxers. You looked at him through your eyelashes and brought your fingers to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. You let out a soft moan.

Tsukishima lightly gripped the base of his cock and began to stroke himself to the private show you were giving him. 

You could see his arm muscles tensing and you licked your lip.

“Let me see how I make you feel, daddy.” you whispered, as your hand began to travel into your shorts.

Tsukishima’s eyes rolled back as he began to squeeze his cock tighter. “Fuck baby girl, I want you so goddamn bad.” 

He repositioned the camera so you could see his hand fisting his cock and your mouth watered at how delicious it looked. His cock was slender and long with a rosy pink tip. You imagined how good it would feel to lap up all of the precum that currently coated it and let out a whimper.

 You moved your camera so it was propped up against the pillows and slid off your shorts and panties. You could hear him let out a soft groan as you ran your fingers over your dripping cunt. You pushed a finger in while your thumb ran over your clit. You dragged your finger around the plush walls of your pussy before pulling out and thrusting back in. You moaned, wishing you were being slammed on his long fingers instead but knowing he was getting off to you had you want to perform a good show for him.

Tsukishima let out heavy, uneven breaths as he watched you play with yourself. He could see you creaming all over your fingers and it dripping down your thighs. He gripped his cock tighter and ran a finger over the slit on top, thinking of how you would leave soft licks on his tip when he had you on your knees. 

“Kei, god it feels so fucking good…” your voice moaned through his earbuds. He watched how you slid another finger into your pussy, and the sounds of your arousal only made his cock grow harder.

“That’s it baby doll, fuck...fuck yourself on your fingers. Be a good girl for me and show me how, fuck, how you cum around those fingers.” Tsukishima groaned, louder than he hoped, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was your moans, your body writhing in pleasure because you belonged to him. He could see you were getting close and he could feel his balls tighten. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Kei! Fuck, I want to cum for you. Let me cum for you, please daddy.”, you cried, and he could hear the desperation in your voice.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck baby doll. Cum for daddy.” Tsukishima groaned as his hot cum splattered, covering his abs and his fingers. He slowly loosened his grip and gave a couple more tugs to his cock as it shot smaller drops of cum. He watched as you came down from your high and he had the strongest urge to hold you in his arms as you rode out your climax.

You panted as you pulled your soaked fingers out of your cunt slowly. As he watched, you slipped your fingers into your mouth to lick off your juices. 

“Good girl.” Kei whispered, clearly spent but still in control.

You released your fingers with a small pop and pulled your phone close so now your face filled the screen, 

“I guess I can let you go to sleep now, baby!”, you giggled, as your drowsiness began to envelop you.

“Such a brat.”, Tsukishima teased, before rolling over to take off his glasses. He could hear your soft breaths even out and saw your eyes close. He smiled and took a quick screenshot of your sleeping face.

“I love you. I can’t wait to be home, Y/N.”

[pascalpanic]

Fooled Around and Fell in Love (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

@carstwirs: hello lovie I dunno if u still taking but could u do "can u hold my hand" & "I like the way your hands fit in mine" with javier peña please very fluffy and kissy kissy

Inspo: Fooled Around and Fell In Love by Elvin Bishop

Summary: You and Javier, unsurprisingly, are friends with benefits. Javier has a bigger heart than he lets on.

W/C: 2.4K

Warnings: language, nondescript sexual content, lots of fluff and a dash of angst for flavor

A/N: hi!! This was also a combination of my song prompt for @din-damn-djarin’s celebration! I chose Fooled Around And Fell In Love as my song for it, and it fit perfectly with this request! I hope y’all like it bc soft Javi is my JAM!

Sneaking around was key with Javier Peña. The two of you were field agents during the hunt for Escobar; discretion was key in both your work and your love life.

Could you even call it a love life, you wondered? It was starting to feel more and more like love to you, but you and Javier only had each other during the off hours of work, the spare moments in the evidence room. Those were the only times that you could wrap your arms around him, that you could pull him to you by the belt and press your lips firmly to his.

Javier was strong and handsome, gorgeous brown eyes and thick biceps and tight shirts. You’d started fooling around with him late one night at the office, when the two of you were the last ones working. Steve was long gone, you were both frustrated with the paperwork, and Javier looked so goddamn good that you walked closer and stared into his eyes. He looked up at you and put out his cigarette, asked what you were looking at.

You knew his reputation. You knew what he did with women, and you wanted it for yourself. You responded that you were looking at that godawful mustache, I wonder how any girl lets you go down on her with that thing, and he pulled you down to him by the shirt and asked you if you wanted a trial. And you kissed him hard, with tongue and teeth and it led to you riding Javier right there in his office chair. It was so good that you kept going, sneaking around the office and his apartment and yours and anywhere you could get him.

The sex was fantastic, even better with the idea that it was forbidden and discreet and could never see the light of day. The nights you’d spend in Javier’s bed, on his couch, in his shower. Wherever he could get you, he’d take you, and you were more than willing to oblige.

After you ravaged each other, after you’d thoroughly marked the easier-covered patches of skin on each other’s bodies, after your lips were reddened and swollen and bruised, that was when the moments of truth came. Your head would rest on Javier’s chest while he’d stroke your hair, murmur sweet nothings to you. And they were truly that: nothings. Words that didn’t mean or promise shit when these excursions had to be confined to closed bedrooms and locked supply closets in the embassy.

No matter how secretive Javier could keep himself, Steve could always read through his screen. He knew the man like he knew his wife, maybe even better since he was a man like him. He could see each little cog turn and tick inside of his brain. He could notice the way his fingers would tap against his desk in a different rhythm when he was craving a cigarette from when he had to go piss from when he was anxious.

So even though you two had smirks on your faces as you went your separate ways, Javier sneaking from the evidence room three minutes before you would, Steve had always known. He’d noticed the way your legs were a little more wobbly than they were before in your heels, the way Javier was in a better mood for the rest of the day.

Steve had also noticed the moment where Javier had fallen in love. He’d returned to his desk with a smudge of your signature lipstick under his jaw that he’d missed. Steve didn’t comment. Javier’s smile looked smitten, not smug. His pen tapped a different rhythm against his desk. It was a new one, one Steve had yet to learn and file away. He learned it as the rhythm he’d tap out when he was in love.

You’d entered this situation with Javier with an understanding that this would be like anything else he’s ever done, that he’d continue this as a casual dalliance and that he’d move on soon. You were friends at work, and that came first and foremost. The sex would end eventually, and you’d both have to move on. Neither of you expected to fall for the other.

-

Javier is a creature of habit, despite the fact that he likes to think he’s unpredictable. He comes home from work at some godforsaken hour late at night, he drinks a glass of whiskey. If he has any energy, he calls up his latest plaything. If he doesn’t, he downs a second glass and passes out in his bed.

Tonight, Javier is in a melancholy mood. His glass of whiskey sinks him lower into this dark hole, and when you answer your ringing phone, he is not flirty or sexy or suggestive. “Hey, dulzura. Wanna come over?” He asks, his voice exhausted.

You frown a little. “What’s wrong?” You ask through the phone, wedging the receiver between your ear and your shoulder.

Javier sighs. “Nothing. Just… could use a little something to make it feel better. Or someone.”

A small smile forms on your face from his weak effort to be flirtatious. “I’ll come right over, Javi,” you inform him, and he has an equally small smile on his face.

A few minutes later, you knock on his door. Two stoic faces turn to smiles as you see each other. It isn’t typical of your relationship to be affectionate. You’re either fucking or you’re professionals at work. But Javier needs it, you rationalize, as you throw your arms around and hug him tight. Little does he know that it’s equally as much for you as it is for him. It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms around you too and pulls you to his chest. “Bad day?” You murmur and nuzzle your nose into his neck.

Javier sighs. “Yeah.”

You press a soft kiss to his skin and look up at him with a smile. You brush his dark hair back from his forehead as you look into his eyes. “What do you need, hm?” You ask in a quiet voice, tilting your head as you look at him.

He can’t say what he really wants, what he needs. He needs you to hold him for the rest of the night, to talk to him softly in your beautiful voice that soothes all of his nerves, to kiss his skin just like you did earlier but do it over and over, all over his body, not even in a sexual way. “You,” he mumbles just as quietly.

You chuckle a little. “I don’t think we should fuck tonight, Javi,” you admit, a hand on his chest.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says and shakes his head. You’re confused, and your brow furrows lightly in confusion in a way that looks so goddamn adorable that Javier wants to scream and shout. “Just… stay here with me?”

You nod, your eyes still confused but your heart softening. This is going to spell trouble, especially with your recent realization of how painfully in love with him you are. “Of course, Javi. Can… how about I make us dinner?” You offer.

He shakes his head. “We can make it together,” he says, leading you to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, which is embarrassingly bare. You go to a cupboard and pull out a box of pasta and a can of sauce. He sees it and smiles. “That’s perfect,” he nods, filling a pot with water and putting it on the stove.

All of your words are somewhat hushed and quiet, as if either of you is afraid to break the calm of the moment. The domesticity of it all. Javier turns on the burner on the stove and you find his cassette player, popping in the first tape you find. The smooth music starts playing and you dance around his kitchen, scooting up behind him and wrapping your arms around him. “Come dance with me,” you murmur and press a kiss into his shoulder blade.

“What has gotten into you?” He asks you teasingly but turns in your arms, wrapping an arm around you. He takes one of your hands in his, holding it out to the side and starting to dance with you.

You hum along to the song and shrug. “You need some love,” you tell him with a soft smile, and it cracks his hardened expression.

You rest your head on his chest and he relaxes, swaying you along. You’re both quiet for a moment. You wonder if you overstepped it with the word love, but he seems to enjoy it. “I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he murmurs to you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

The utter tenderness of the moment is unlike anything you and Javier have ever shared before. Things between you have always been rough and fast, about pleasure and not feelings. This is uncharted territory. You’re holding each other, slow dancing in his kitchen. His arms are warm and strong around you. “I like it too,” you tell him genuinely in a soft voice. The lyrics of the song ring out through the kitchen, and you can’t help but feel your throat go dry at the words.

I must have been through about a million girls

I'd love 'em then I'd leave 'em alone

I didn't care how much they cried, no sir

Their tears left me cold as a stone

But then I fooled around and fell in love

I fooled around and fell in love, yes I did

I fooled around and fell in love

Javier’s breath hitches. You can feel it, his chest fluttering beneath your head. His face is still pressed into your hair. “Can I admit something to you, dulzura?” He mumbles.

Your eyes are watering, and you bury your face in his neck. You pray that it’s the words you want to hear. You squeak out an ‘mhm’ into his skin.

“I think this song was meant for us. Because we’ve been fooling around… but I think I fell in love with you,” he chokes out nervously, stopping his feet and planting the two of you in the middle of the kitchen.

You lift your head and look at him, the tears beginning to fall from your eyes. “Javi,” you coo, your lower lip quivering.

His eyes go wide in fear. This is why he doesn’t show emotions, he tells himself, because it never fucking works, it always ends wrong. He gets his desperate heart broken and that’s why he hides it, locks it and swallows the key. “But if you don’t feel the same, I understand,” he says quietly. His lower lip sticks out slightly.

You laugh through the tears, looking at him with wet eyes. “Javi. I have thought the same about you for so long. I am so in love with you, and I was so worried you wouldn’t feel the same. I can’t believe, I just-“

He cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and pressing your lips to his, sighing at the feeling. It’s everything you’ve wanted, warm and slow and everything about it is a release of tension. You’ve kissed him before, sure, but it’s been hot and sloppy and hurried, for the sole point of removing each other’s pants. This is because he wants to, because he wants you for you and not the warmth between your legs.

You break away, and Javier looks down at you. “Why are you crying?” He asks with a soft smile.

Looking up at him, there are tears on your face but not an ounce of sadness. “Because I love you so much. And I thought eventually you’d get tired of me and move on to another woman and I’d still have to be friends with you even though I’m so in love with you.”

Javier frowns softly. “Do you really think I would?”

You shrug. “I mean… it’s kind of your track record, Javi,” you say, and he nods.

“I suppose that’s somewhat true,” he admits. “But it’s you. How could I ever change my mind about someone like you?” He asks, and you answer his question by kissing him again, deeply.

It’s pure bliss, his warm hand on your face, the other around your waist and pulling you tighter against him. You break away and your eyes hold a question. “What now?” He asks sarcastically.

You giggle. “The water is boiling,” you tell him and nod your head toward the stove.

“Oh, shit,” he nods and breaks away from you, pouring the pasta in.

You sneak up behind him again and wrap your arms around him, kissing his neck. “Javi?”

“Is this a game show? Am I being interrogated?” He chuckles lovingly.

“Jesus, you just admitted you love me and now you’re being so mean to me,” you tease. “No. Does this mean… are we a thing? Can we be in public now?”

He thinks about it for a second and nods, stirring the water. “I think we should. And I think you should stay the night, so I can finally tell you how much I love you in bed.”

You giggle softly. “I’d like that.”

-

In the morning, you ride to work with Javier. You straighten your blazer as you get out of the car, smiling at him and pulling your purse over your shoulder.

He looks back at you and he can’t help but smile. “Dulzura?”

“Yes, Javi?”

He walks alongside you as you head into the building. “Can you hold my hand?” He asks, grinning ear to ear.

You beam and nod, taking his hand. He opens the door and the two of you walk in together, for the first time, holding hands. You draw stares as you walk to his desk, but you don’t care. Neither does he. Both of you walk with your head held high.

Finally you see Steve and he slowly claps as the two of you approach. “Ah, I see we’re finally public,” he nods and gestures to your hands with a cigarette between two fingers.

You look at Javier in confusion, and he looks back at you with the same eyes. “I’ve known about you two this whole time,” the blonde man laughs, kicking his legs up on the desk. “How does that song go? Fooled around and fell in love,” he sings, and you laugh as you look up at Javi.

“I guess that’s our song now,” he shrugs and looks down at you.

“I guess it is,” you nod, and Javier kisses you softly.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy

[obeymeluv]

Cute + Awkward Headcanons (SFW/NSFW)

Trying to turn a bad day around, so I thought of these

Lucifer

Sometimes you can’t tell if he’s giving you bedroom eyes or if he’s actually angry. Lucifer has spent THOUSANDS of years glaring at his brothers and doesn’t know if he’s just staring or glaring

I think he’s super out of practice with romance so he’s hella awkward but when he gets that first positive sign that you’re into him, the charm and pride wakes up and suddenly he’s smooth AF

Flirts so formally he misses his shot 8/10 times

Has a habit of trying to police you like one of his brothers and it’s a knee-jerk, 1000+ year reaction to looking after 6 man-children of various difficulties. Always owns up and apologizes

Has accidentally almost made you pass out from kissing too long. Forgets you don’t have the same lung capacity

BRUISES YOU TO HELL! FORGETS SO MUCH! FEELS SO BAD!

That’s why he has the gloves, to soften his grip because he was one of the strongest in the Celestial Realm and that translates to power in the Devildom

Only complains to you about his back pain from long nights burning the candle at both ends. You find it cute and sad at the same time

Is probably physically very heavy given his stature and the weight of his wings, so if he falls asleep on you, you’re trapped

Rare midnight snack dates when he MUST finish papers by the deadline.

You may or may not have had a Demonus date in his study when a particularly bad batch of paperwork was finally done

You’ve probably cracked at least one (1) antique wood chair

Quickly learned he CANNOT spank you because that shit seriously bruised your ass. You either need a strengthening charm or he has to re-learn how to use his strength around people

That caused one awkward visit to the infirmary because you didn’t know if you were just sore, pinched, dislocated, or cracked. Turns out you were fine. There was no mistaking that hand print, though

It was the second time he’d apologized so profusely in his life. There was no pride left in this man.

You had a special cushion to ease the pain and it looked top of the line (hella fancy. Could probably resell it as fake Gucci in the human world.)

Lucifer gives me big dom vibes and orgasm denial/over-stimulation kink because of his pride basically demanding you beg for him. You passed out at least once from over-stimulation.

When you first start dating he wouldn’t want to own up to any awkward boners so if you sit in his lap while he’s taking a paper break, he’ll make every excuse under the sun (”That’s my belt,”, etc.)

Mammon

This boy is nothing but awkward moments, are you kidding me?

It’s a lot of ‘open mouth, insert foot’ because he can’t be upfront with his feelings. It’s partly not wanting to lose any ‘cred’ he has with people, but also because he’s embarrassed and can’t be honest

There’s lots of tracking you down to sort out things you might have overheard (that he didn’t honestly mean if they sounded bad)

Super sentimental about anything to do with you. You once kissed a piece of Grimm as a good luck charm for his exam and he’d kill someone over it. Always has it on him.

This lovable doofus just assumes you’re dating because you’re always together and you’re perfect and he’s your best man so who’s better?!

When you actually ask him out (with something silly, like ‘I think us dating would be pretty cash money’), he’s so confused. (”But we’ve been dating for, like, a month! Right, human?!”)

He talks big but he’s weak. You’ll always be able to fluster him

Wanted to make love to you on some Grimm and quickly realized that it’s uncomfortable. Porn lied to him and the idea’s ruined. You guys cut the session short to find every piece of Grimm so you can actually lay in the bed

 Tends to plunk his head down on your chest and demand scratches/cuddles and has bruised you several times.

Accidentally fought you once or twice for his glasses while half asleep. Levi, Asmo, and Satan used to take them and hide from him

You learned he’s actually hella blind (contacts with non-prescription sunglasses or prescription yellow glasses) and have walked him around the House of Lamentation several times when his glasses went missing

He’ll complain about his brothers having it out for him and getting back at him, but it turns out they just wanted to make an excuse for you guys to hold hands. It’s like a date!

Made you hit your head on the headboard once when he was doing missionary style. Had to stop and check on you, then it got awkward. He cuddled and kissed you the whole time, though. Even got you an ice pack!

The type to flirt with you, try to lean on something, and take himself out on the way down

You’ve had a few of those cliche ‘trip and fell on each other’ moments

Has accidentally swung you into doors and walls trying to scoop you up and run/march out of a room

Levi

This boy is also super awkward

When you’re alone, he’s an absolute sucker for any kind of affection you can give. This boy will literally slither across the floor to make himself comfortable in your lap so he can game.

Pet his hair. He loves that.

Will also have to re-train himself on how to be with you in public. With him, it’s not making fun of a ‘normie’ as much.

Not big on PDA but will definitely hold your hand. How ELSE are people going to know you’re together?!

You get cute matching shirts or jewelry with the ‘Player 1, Player 2′ theme

Does a lot more snake-like things with his tongue. Especially when frustrated. Rub his jaw and chin to see it come out a little bit. It’s like a happy floppy dog tongue, just not as long or wide.

Craves a soft, warm thing to sleep on. You will be his new bed.

The first time you had sex, he broke out his demon form because he looked at you and loved you. He knew he’d get jealous if anyone ever saw you.

Was a little clumsy but determined. Sank in and started going at it, but wanted to look down and watch. He got his horns stuck in your hair and had to stop.

Is #1 fan when you’re naked. (”Ugh. Smother me.”) Boy can’t stand it. He needs it.

Tries to dress a little nicer (even if it’s casual) when you guys go out on dates.

You pack little snack bags when he stands in line for midnight releases and GODDAMN he’s gonna marry you?!

If you’re napping together and someone comes to wake him up or needs you, he just glares at them from underneath you, tail swishing threateningly. No one takes his human, okay?!

He has over-the-ear headphones but I bet he carries earbuds and has probably done that ‘share an earbud’ thing to hold you close and listen to music

Do you need to get up while he’s still sleeping? Untangle yourself and tuck your pillow in his arms. He’ll be fine. Bonus: you get to see the snuggling in action.

Between all the anime and centuries in the Devildom, he’s gotten used to using tails as another way of expression. They act subconsciously based on what the demon’s thinking. He’s surprised both of you several times by accidentally wrapping you up in his tail because he doesn’t want you to leave.

When he gets visibly uncomfortable in social situations, slip him something with your scent on it. It’s comforting. If you make up an excuse to get him out of there (he’s your escort and all), he’s over the moon.

Satan

Had more awkward moments than he’s willing to admit, but he’s more open about them than Lucifer. Basically, if someone guesses it happened, he won’t deny it.

BOY HAS A BOWTIE KINK. PLAY WITH HIS. STEAL ONE AND WEAR IT!

Has probably tripped over books walking you through his room or rushing to answer the door (not that you’d know how happy it makes him).

There’s a 50-50 chance that he’ll steal a glance and act like he didn’t, hiding behind an upside down book or something

Has definitely dropped books on his head after charming them down from the shelf. Your voice just sucks all his concentration up. You get bonus points for checking on him because some of those books are HELLA HEAVY

Say the right thing during a quiet tea session and you might hear him choke

Has probably been outed by one of his friends. Satan always seems to make friends without trying and gets invited to tons of stuff. What didn’t seem like a date turns out to DEFINITELY be a date (according to the friend).

Plan some silly treasure hunt/detective date and this guy is yours for life (especially if you’re the prize at the end).

Isn’t the most upfront about the disdain for his demon form, or how he feels weird about not being a true angel (just an extension of Lucifer), so expect a lot of raw, near-tears conversations in his demon form.

Hold him, run your fingers along the inside of his wings and the tips of his horns and Satan hugs you like there’s no tomorrow. He’ll cry, but he doesn’t regret these tears because they’re healing.

Weak for hand kisses. Smooch them hands.

Not super into PDA, but he’ll do other things to show he cares like carry your books and make sure you know what the weather’s like before you leave

Satan still hasn’t lived down the time Lucifer and the others broke down his door because they smelled blood and thought he’d hurt you. Turns out you guys were having sex and he just bit too hard.

Wouldn’t talk to any of them for a week. He swept you up on an impromptu hotel vacation and you continued to avoid everyone by shopping and eating at cafes.

The type to hold your panties hostage or like a trophy. Gives them back eventually, and enjoys watching Mammon almost have an aneurysm as he tries to figure out why his room smells so strongly of you.

Tea dates, cat cafe dates, and plenty of couple pictures with cat filters. Satan’s Devilgram activity goes up substantially when he’s dating.

You’re not his lock screen, but you’re his background. 

Asmo

When you two start dating Asmo is literally the happiest demon in all of Devildom. Yeah he’s smug and cute like ‘how could they NOT fall for beautiful me?’ but boy is literally so stoked. All of that babble’s just a cover for how sickeningly happy he is

Thinks the world of you.

Wants to spend all his free time with you, be it napping and cuddling, shopping, getting pampered, or just doing your nails.

Now that he has that real, true love he doesn’t want to be without you.

You trend on Devilgram at least once

SO MANY PICTURES

Took you shopping for perfumes and has the tester strip you used to pick your perfume taped to his vanity. Then he can smell it whenever he likes!

Gives you a small thing of his cologne for when you get lonely or want to smell like him

Boy is super, super extra. Probably has matching shirts that say he’s yours and you’re his.

The type to get couple’s pillows, cups, and pajamas. You also get couple’s massages.

If you wear lipstick, he’s definitely made you a custom one at some exclusive-invite Devilgram event. He put your initials on the base of the tube and thinks it’s the cutest damn thing. His pride and joy--it’s basically a child.

There’s no shame in the bedroom with this one. I really doubt he’d have awkward moments because he has a lot of experience and has run into a lot of things that he’s handled one way or another. It’s gentle coaching and some sweet teasing.

The most embarrassing thing he’s ever done is probably moaned/whined at the wrong time. Or said something semi-naughty at a bad time. He’s not easily shamed so that doesn’t really matter, either.

He melts at the gentlest touches and will be SO dramatic about it, like half fainted into his bed.

Is easily hypnotized by jewelry. He’ll massage your ears if you have earrings in, cooing over them and wanting to look at them. If he’s laying on you and you’re wearing a necklace, he plays with it the whole time.

Beel

Smart but distractable. Beel’s love language revolves around protection and food so pack him a lunch for practice or bring him something from a town date with one of the bros and he’s super excited

He means well but forgets his own strength so there’s a lot that can go wrong in the bedroom

Has probably broken his bed several times

Had sex on the kitchen counter and the bros only found out because one of them was setting up dinner prep and one of the legs just gave out

Big, snuggly bear. Best hugs.

Hardest to wake up because he tends to sleep well and easily. It’s a side effect of being connected to Belphie. Will hug you to him and keep snoring. You have to get someone else to wake him up because he’ll just snuggle you the more you move around and talk

I headcanon that Beel does a tongue thing like Levi, mostly because his cardinal sin is gluttony and that helps get the food in his mouth faster. It’s not as slender or serpentine as Levi’s, but it definitely moves.

Has licked you in his sleep as an affectionate thing.

Loves to snuggle into your hair when he sleeps.

Bite mark king. He’s so affectionate and earnest when he makes love that he just ends up leaving all kinds of signs on you--mostly bite marks but when he’s conscious of leaving too many, they turn into hand prints.

Makes the purr sound when he’s inside of you. Purrs very easily.

Most of his awkward moments come from being oblivious. He’s the kind of guy you have to out-and-out tell you’re flirting with him, that you like him and want to date him.

Beel’s also very shy with flirting. He thinks you’ll just understand that he’s flirting when he shares food or wants to hug, or just anything. It can be missed because he’s generally chill and friendly.

Was royally embarrassed by Asmo (on accident) when he didn’t eat as much at dinner one night and you were ‘too tired’ to come down. Beel went to carry your food up and Asmo somehow found out he’d eaten you out right before. He was filled up on the human energy and you couldn’t walk to come down.

If you ride his face, grab his horns to hold on. It does something for him and his hands go crazy and he really eats.

Scratch his back and he’ll be your forever heater.

His PDA is carrying you because why not? It’s a workout AND you’re close. It makes him give that big, nice smile.

Belphie

The biggest issue is that he falls asleep on you all the time. He doesn’t mean to but he’s TIRED, okay?

Has a name for the cow pillow. Calls it ‘my moo.’ You are one of seven people that know that. Apparently it’s been a thing since he was little.

Has accidentally called you ‘my moo’ when he’s sleep delirious. It means you’re highly thought of. Beel used to be his moo, too, and now he’s been replaced.

This sloth will smother you. He’s like a koala that demands total contact to sleep

Gives you back rubs and massages. Sometimes he stays awake through them, sometimes you get sleepy and that makes him sleepy so he ends up falling asleep on your back.

Not big on PDA, but his version of caring for you is making sure you’re not bothered by annoying people. Wants you to sit with him at lunch though, and he’ll sulk if you don’t.

His favorite kind of dates are where you stockpile food and drink in the room and just feed each other while lounging in cozy blankets

If you make him any kind of pillow or blanket for a birthday, it’s at the top of his collection. Everyone will see it when they walk into his room.

You’ll plan dates in the star room where he just holds you and points out constellations until you fall asleep. Knows a lot of the mythology/stories behind them and shares that.

No matter the size, Belphie likes to cuddle between your boobs. He says it’s for your heartbeat and that they’re comfy like pillows. His tail wags like crazy when he does this.

Also big on physical contact due to his time in the attic. You just have to be alone.

Brush and play with his hair. That’s what he likes most.

Just hold this boy, okay? He needs it.

If you guys are trying to nap and the other brothers are being noisy, he’ll do the demon scream thing to tell them to shut the hell up. He’s an absolute angel to you though. You’re tired too, he knows.

If you get a little purple streak or something in your hair, he’s smitten.

Get him a kanigiri and the boy is super stoked. He’ll wear it all around the House of Lamentation. Bonus points if it has a hoodie or something he can throw up to annoy Lucifer.

Might get you a little stuffed cow toy so you have something to hug if you have to go away or can’t be with him.

The type to be restless if he can’t sleep with you. Will come to your room in the dead of night and ask to snuggle. It’s the only time he’s nice about it (and vulnerable), so say yes.

You get to be a human body pillow. He loves it very much.

[arcadejohn127-9]

ok so,,, *slides u mc idea* (YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THIS IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!!! I JUST WANTED TO SHARE THIS!!!)

MC that doesn't have any energy during the day, just moping around all tired. But from like, 12 AM to 6 AM, really energized and would go out and do the most Chaotic Shit TM. You know when you just come up with some crack idea at 2 AM? MC every goddamn night. Probably tried making a bathtub fly.

(if you do want to do this, please do the brothers and the undateables ^^)

XD WHY IS THIS ME???!!!!! I'm always so tired and never leave my bed but it could be 1 am and suddenly I rise from the dead and just do random things around the house

Though these aren't chaotic, mostly just the boys trying to stop you as they're tired and want to sleep but you're messing around too much. I tried to base it off my own activities and things that would seem funny - sorry if you wanted something more chaotic but I couldn't think of anything

Lucifer:

When he learned about your strange late morning/early morning shenanigans

He saw it was a way for you to finally get your school work done

Every room - and I mean EVERY - had a textbook from your different class with notes, he goes to bed late so he put them their before he tucked in for the night

He could hear your distress at the continuous reminder of work you needed to do

You knew this was his work so you went to his room

Climbing on his bed and just walked over his body

"Stop it, I'm trying to learn how to replicate the set ups from home alone."

"You can do that after doing your coursework, I'm being merciful with you, don't push it."

You just threw yourself down beside him

Pretending to suddenly fall asleep and began to loudly fake snore

You remained like that whilst Lucifer tried to ignore you

He took this as a sign of war

He was going to monitor you all day if he has to, he refuses to let your bad grades affect their image

But you got bored of snoring and left

He felt relief; his desire to sleep over weighing his desire to force you to study

When you came back with a toy gun you altered to shoot golf balls he knew thing's weren't going well

"The-more-you-pressure-me-the-more-I-won't-study."

You shot at his lower body between each words

This was definitely war

Mammon:

He was sleeping just fine until he heard his car rev up

He bolted awake and saw that his car was on, a string of curses coming from inside

He knew of your weird habit of becoming energised at ridiculous times but he wasn't expecting you to do this

He could tell it was you by your voice

He stormed up the stairs towards his car

"Oi! What are you doing in my car? Go to bed!"

You finally were able to turn off the car, just leaning on the wheel casually as if you didn't just accidentally turn it on

"I'm just cruising~ nothing to see here!"

He wasn't amused

He got you out of his car and strung you over his shoulder, scolding you for being so irresponsible and slightly bragging about how much trouble you'd be in if it weren't for him

You tried to explain you were just pretending to drive but you saw the keys still inside and got curious

He just threw you on his bed and held you, hiding his blush in his pillow

You let him fall asleep but when you tried to escape it ended up with your shoulders in a head lock and your ass stuck in the air

It seems your productive night has came to an end

Levithan:

It was a fifty - fifty chance that levithan was awake or not

But Lucifer gave him an earful about staying up late as it's effecting grades

So you betted he was asleep and your desire to game and wonder aroulnd his room set itself in motion

What made it awkward, was when you came in you heard a suspicious girly moan come from his headphones

You both just stared at each other, unmoving

"Uh- this isn't- this is just a dream, this is definitely not happening."

You checked out the game he was playing; recognizing it to be a dating sim he's been following the development of

You just nodded, shuffling over to his set up

"Scoot over dream levi, I wanna see the hot babes."

He got even more embarassed; face completely red as you sat on your player 2 chair

You put your hand on his, forcing his finger to click the mouse and watched what was happening on screen, listening to the loud music from his headphones

Luckily, the voice acting was just suspicious - like most animes - and it was a fairly cute game

You did end up swirling around in your chair aroulnd his room

Both of you coming up with strategies to get the best girl to like you

Though, too much moving and spinning made you and the chair fall over

You bonked Into his bathtub, your ribs squishing against the rim after the trip

Levi let you make all the gaming decisions to make up for it

Satan:

He planned to have some late night reading, hoping it'll make him tired enough to actually sleep

He found you sitting on the floor in the library

Torn books and littered paper was surrounding you

Then he noticed the paper stars and cranes pouring out from your lap as you froze mid fold

"That's....a thousand stars and cranes - where did you get all this paper from?"

"......the books belonged to me before you assume anything!"

He slowly nodded

He wasn't a fan of the destruction of books but they were yours so he couldn't say anything

He felt odd just leaving you in the barely lit library

Just folding paper who knows how long

He asked if you were hungry, guessing you've been awake for a long time

You just shoved paper into your mouth and began chewing

He was horrified

You immediately spat it out, cringing

"that was a bad idea.... that was gross."

He's going to get you food

When he came back he felt more energised; walking around will do that for you

So he decided to just stay with you whilst you folded the many pages of your destroyed books

It was around 6 am when you finally yawned; Satan fell asleep already

You looked at the fire place, your tired brain screaming for arson

He woke up as he heard your fits of poorly muffled giggles

You were throwing your stars in the fire as you sat a fair distance from it

When you threw the cranes, accepting some didn't fly far enough and didn't burn, he asked what you were doing

"It's survival of the fittest, only the strongest cranes survive in this paper world."

Asmodeus:

You were already in his room, you've been sleeping in it almost all day

So when you finally got out you looked around, spotting the makeup kit he got in a sponsorship

He lets his brother's or you use it as it's a spare

But if you touch his stuff; you will perish

So you decided to use that one, practising all sorts of looks and tried not to laugh when you made yourself a clown

You decided to stay in the clown makeup and go into his practice room

What was his practice room?

Well, he hates exercising Infront of people as he'll be sweaty and his hair will get ruined

So that's where he goes but the real magic was the pole in the middle of it

You felt a spark of inspiration

Looking up tutorials on your phone on how to pole dance

It did not go great

You were sliding too fast

Falling over and when you tried to spin, you would just get stuck

"I love you but if you keep disturbing my beauty sleep I will throw you out the window."

He was grouchy; his hair was barely smoothed out and arms crossed

You hugged the pole you were slowly sliding down; a long loud screech coming down

You definitely felt like a clown

"Sorry- you look handsome already so is there really any need for beauty sleep?"

He blushed, agreeing he was beautiful before giving you a "I will end you" smile

You got the hint, flattery wasn't going to work

Perhaps your pole dancing adventures can wait

Beezlebub:

He was aware of your strange energy burst at night, you were talking about it with him the other day

He's been wondering if he would ever spot you and tonight he did

He found you in the kitchen

Just chipping away at the frost on the top of the freezer trays with a small knife

He crouched down behind you, picking you up

Beel let you sit on his thigh and began to eat anything he could get his hands on

Meanwhile you were aggressively stabbing the formed ice

"Why are you doing that?"

He grabbed a handful of the ice chunks that fell from your stabbing

"Not sure what I want to do tonight and the build up was bothering me."

He didn't need to know anymore, just nodding and letting you do your own thing whilst he ate

He cleared out the entire fridge in no time

Letting you eat anything you wanted whilst you were hard at work

He noticed one part of the ice wasn't giving it to your stabbings

He just gripped it and easily broke it off

You thanked him and ignored how he was able to eat the big block with breaking it

Whenever something was too stubborn he would just break it off for you

It went on like that until you were satisfied

You closed the empty freezer and turned to your assistant

"Good work, but I'll need your help again, I can't reach the top cupboard and I know it's big enough to let me sit in it."

He got to eat more so he had no issue, helping you get into the cupboard once he was done clearing it out

Belphegor:

You were so energised yet you couldn't think of what to do

You put a spell on you to stop you from feeling pain and began to let yourself roly-poly down the hallways

You penciled rolled abit too fast at one pointand ended up thumping down the stairs

You were thankful the spell worked

It got to the point you just kept rolling around until you couldn't anymore

You padded the broom closet

Immediately doing a double take when you noticed a body In the darkness

You went over and turned on the closets light

"is there a reason you're sleeping in the broom closet?"

Belphie was grumbling, trying to hide his face from the light

He glared up at you for disturbing his sleep

"Is there a reason you're rolling around the house?"

"Touchè."

You ended up dragging belphie around the house

You felt like you committed a crime and it was fun

He was fast asleep and you were bored

You dragged him by the ankle and tried to keep his body from banging into anything along the way

You ended up bumping into Beel, he was looking for his twin, and he noticed you were dragging him

Belphie slightly woke up, waving at his brother before going back to sleep

Beel carried the two of you back to the his bedroom; hugging you both

If it weren't for these warm beefy arms you would be free! Free to terrorise all the shadows in the room

You gave up your night activities when even Belphie wrapped an arm around you

UNDATEABLES↓

Diavolo:

Dia was sneaking around the house, hoping not to run into his butler

He didn't want be to be sent back to bed

He was planning to have a light night snack and see how you were going

He knew you were always doing something during the nights, it surprised him when he found out because you were always in bed whenever he saw you

He checked your bedroom and didn't see you in your bed

Suddenly, he noticed a pile of black by his feet

He saw you, scrunched up on your back with the little D's covering your body, all hugging you

"oh! I almost didn't spot you under there, are you alright?"

"I'm great~ you should join me."

The little D's You were able to scratch were purring in their sleep

He found the sight adorable as he crouched down

"I'm teaching them to love me so they can willingly become armour for when I take over the Devildom - we'll be like the rat king!"

He just quietly laughed; the prince helping you pet and scratch the little D's

He agreed you'd make a good ruler

Though he had to force himself to be silent as you started chanting whispers of 'You will be my armor' and 'rat king'

Decided to leave you and your brain washing, going to the kitchen like he intended

Though when he walked past your room again you and the little Ds weren't there

He found you in his room, pouting and dangling off the chandelier

He helped you down, asking what was wrong

You told him the little D's banished you from the cuddle pile because you kept trying to make them move as one being

He patted your head and told you you'll become the overlord some day

Barbatos:

"Why are you making pudding at 3 am?"

He already knew why, just like he knew you were here hence why he visited you

But that didn't stop him from asking

He knew you liked it when he showed his intrigue in things even if he already knew about them

"my hands demand to CREATE- oops sorry - hopefully that didn't wake anyone."

He was always surprised to see you up and about during the nights

He was always the one looking after you in the morningsa; making sure you ate and had a drink

Whilst you just laid in bed, always barely awake and unmotivated

He stayed with you, watching over you as you made your pudding

Making soft spoken discussion as he guided you through any steps you seemed to become hesitant in

You ended up making 10 batches of pudding

Barbatos eating a few whilst he watched you

When you grew bored of pudding making you ate the cups he didn't eat

Saving a few for lord Diavolo in the fridge

He complimented your pudding, telling you that they were very delicious

You felt proud; having a spark to make more food

He told you what would be best during this time of night and helped you

Though it did end up with the both of you covered in flour and barb slipping on a dropped egg

You both thought it was best to clean up and stop for the night

He was very embarassed he made a fool of himself

Solomon:

He didn't expect to find you in his working space

He knew you would be awake but didn't even think of you doing what you're doing right now

"is there a reason you're drinking my potions like their shots? I must say this is rather interesting - how many did you have?"

You wiped your mouth, your hiccup coming out as exploding bubbles

You looked at the small glass viles, and saw ALOT of them empty

More than you realized

"uh- 3?"

he just chuckled, reading the notes you made

The notes was recording what each potion did to you

He was thankful you remembered this was his safe batch

Unknown to him you in fact did NOT remember and was having a Russian roulette game with them

He sat with you, making a cure for your explosive hiccups

You happily drunk it and felt better

He laughed more when he saw your scribbles; drawing what happened to you

Solomon will be making you his potion tester from now one so beware

Simeon:

He was an early riser; awake by 3 am and usually did some writing or watched TV until he got tired again

He had a mug of tea, shuffling through the dorm

He's hung out with you plenty of times whilst you cure your late night boredom

But he was surprised when he saw you in the living room, mini flashlight in your mouth and scrubbing the floors with a sponge mop

"Oh, you don't need to clean - that's very sweet of you but don't you think it's abit early to do this?"

You looked at him, semi blinding him with the flashlight

Immediately took it out of your mouth and apologized

You agreed it was but you wanted to do it as you've been meaning to for the past week

He just nodded, letting you do your own thing whilst he enjoyed his drink

But you suddenly felt awkward; no longer wanting to clean now that someone was in the room

You made your way over to him, climbing on the coffee table and jumping onto the sofa

He was curious on why you weren't doing your thing anymore

"dunno know, just feels awkward when people watch me do stuff."

He suggested leaving you be, saying he'll stay in his room

But now you felt bad because he wanted to rest in the living room

In the end, he helped you clean and you both fell asleep in the bathtub, cuddling up with towels working as padding and a blanket

Luke:

You liked creeping Luke out

It was fun, so far you've convinced them that you're a type of demon that watches bad children whilst they sleep

But really you just wanted to feel like a cryptic, sitting in the corner of his room on a cupboard

It wasn't long for him to wake up from your staring

"I'm going to tell Simeon if you keep staring at me."

You wanted to laugh; he really was a child

Luke wasn't aware that you were a night owl, he just assumed you were always tired and sleeping

He liked to help you around the house and look after you when he could

It almost made you feel had

Almost

He's been extra stubborn about liking the Devildom to the point he's Been insulting his friends and trying to push them away

"Luke, you've been very bad, pushing your friends away just because they're a demon isn't good - embrace your friendships."

You weren't amazing at changing your voice but it seemed to work on him

He complained that it wasn't right for angels and demons to be friends

But you quickly reminded him what this whole exchange program was about

"you have been chosen to help fix the divide between the three realms, just hang out with the people you care about or I'll eat your toes!"

He immediately got scared, scrunching into himself and only peered slightly out of his blanket

He made you promise to leave him alone if he made up with the demons

You agreed, feeling bad for disturbing his sleep but thankful your plan worked

[adhdeancas]

Dean gets screened for ADHD

“I don’t really buy into the whole ‘shrink’ thing,” he blurted out as soon as he got in the door. The woman in the white coat raised an eyebrow at him, not unkindly. 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a shrink, then.”

Dean floundered at that. He nodded and sat awkwardly in the chair across from the psychiatrist, perched on the edge, just in case. His fingertips bounced nervously against his leg. “Okay, yeah, sure, but- you know, the whole-” another indiscriminate arm wave, another soft smile. 

“Mental health?”

“My brother thought I should come.” he confirmed, sighing and resigning himself to his fate finally. He settled back further into the chair. “Well and my- my buddy.” he looked down, his heartbeat picking up a little. 

“I am going to have to ask you some questions, though.”

“Hm? Uh, yeah, go ahead, whatever you gotta do.”

Dr. Pearson took out her clipboard, an action which stopped Dean in his tracks. He was starting to feel a little boxed in. “So, first off, what are you here for? I mean, besides placating your brother.”

Dean grinned at her, the knot in his chest loosening a little. “Yeah, uh… so my brother and my… friend, they think I’ve got ADHD”

“Do you think you have ADHD?”

Dean blinked at her. “I- I dunno, I mean, I’m a little old for that, ain’t I?”

The doctor shrugged. “ADHD doesn’t have an age limit. And you’re never too old to improve your life.”

Dean held his hands up in defense. He didn’t want her to think he was just flat out dismissing it, but… “Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucked up in a thousand different ways, but for once… my life kinda feels… good. I got a good thing going. Don’t know how much I wanna change.” It felt like way too much to mess with, what if he messed it up? 

The psychiatrist nodded, interested. “Tell me about that. Your life now. It’s a recent change?”

Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Me and my family, we got past some pretty big stuff not too long ago, and uh… I got into a relationship, a good one,” he cleared his throat and wiped his palms off on his pants. “I moved and everything, and I kind of have a kid. And I have a job, a real job, for the first time in my goddamn life.” He looked up and beamed, so proud of his bar. His bar. He swore, everytime he talked about his life it sounded like a fever dream. 

The psychiatrist returned his smile, which made him feel like a third grader. “Those sound like some pretty big changes. Congratulations. And you said you had different circumstances before? Would you characterize any of your past life events as traumatic?”

Dean laughed, actually cackled then. “Uh, all of them?” From the patronizing smile the doc was wearing, he guessed she didn’t believe him. “I- I was a soldier, kinda. For a while. Seen a lot of bad shit.” The doctor nodded; she started scribbling something down on her paperwork. “I’m not, like, traumatized or anything, though.”

A genuine smile pulled at Dr. Pearson’s lips as she wrote, and Dean leaned forward, eager to see what kinda joke she thought he was pitching. “You know, in all my years of being a psychiatrist, almost no one has wanted to admit they have trauma.” She looked at him and shrugged. “Most people, at least, most people who come to see me, have trauma.”

Dean crossed his arms, knowing it made him look cartoonishly uncomfortable and not being able to stop himself anyway. “Okay, can we move past this part of the- whatever? Exam?”

She nodded, surprising Dean. “We can do the ADHD screening now.”

“What, so all the rest of that was for shits and giggles?”

“Background.” She was unfazed. “Okay, now I’m going to ask you some questions about your attention and work habits and how your day to day functions, they’re called executive dysfunctions, how they work and how they present in your mind. It’s going to be a lot of questions. You don’t have to worry about any right answers, there aren’t any. And if you want to expand more on an answer, please feel free. All information helps me get a more accurate picture of your mindspace.”

Dean blinked. Once. Twice. He didn’t mean to zone out, he really didn’t, but his brain just kinda glazed over the words, like they went in one ear and out the other without translating into English. The doctor waited patiently, and he nodded his go-ahead, hoping it was the right answer. “Yeah, sure.”

She cleared her throat and flipped the page on her clipboard, looking down at a list of questions she apparently had. There were a lot of questions, some of them confused Dean, and he had to think about them a lot. He’d never thought about thinking so much in his life. His brain just worked, what the hell was he supposed to say about it? 

“Are you organized?”

“Yeah, totally. Except when, y’know, if I’m going through a rough few days, then… nobody wants to do laundry when they feel like shit.”

“So your ability to maintain your cleanliness relies on your mental state?”

“Yeah, doesn’t everyone’s?”

“So, what goes through your mind if you’re having a rough day, or week, and you see laundry on the floor. Or dishes in the sink. What do you think, what do you do?”

“Well, I think I should clean it up, obviously.”

“And you do?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “It’s a lot of work.” He shakes his head. “No it’s not, I know that stuff would take me like three minutes but… I gotta get up first.”

“Do you find it hard to concentrate on work?”

“Yeah. I mean, sometimes. Research, fuck yeah. I swear to- I swear, I can’t read more than three pages before I-” He waved a hand in front of his eyes. She seemed to get it. “But if it’s like- cars, then I can work for hours and just - zone the fuck out.”

“What about watching tv? Can you sit on the couch and relax?”

“Yeah!” Dean started confidently, but then wavered. “Well, unless, I’ve like- I dunno, sometimes I just need to do something with my hands, y’know? Or some days, my car is my couch. All I need is my Baby, the open road, some music… But I can watch a good marathon, don’t get me wrong. One time I watched John Wayne’s entire life’s work in one sitting.”

“Do you lose things often?”

“All the fucking time. It’s why I try to be organized. My keys, my guns, my wallet, I know where that stuff is, I always put it in the same place.”

“Like a cubby or a bedside table?”

“Uh…” He scratched his head. Maybe he was batshit. Every answer he said made him sound crazier and crazier. “No. So, I put my keys on this one shelf of the bar while I’m there, my hus- Cas got this cutesy little key holder from a garage sale, so that’s where I keep ‘em at home. Wallet on this one ledge in the kitchen, and I’ve got a gun in basically every room.” He was hoping she wouldn’t fixate on the gun thing. Luckily, she didn’t. 

“But other than those things, you lose?”

“Yeah. I- I found this one ring I lost years ago in my trunk a few months ago, and I’ve been wearing it every day. But I took it off because-” He coughed. He took it off because he and Cas were fucking on their living room couch while Jack was with Sam for the weekend and he hadn’t wanted any… roughness to his fingers. “I took it off and set it down, and I knew where I set it down, right? But then I was afraid of losing it again, so I didn’t look for it, even though I know I knew where it was. So like four days later I finally look for it, and it’s not there.” He sighed heavily, and looked up just in time to see Dr. Pearson looking at him like he was a mummy who’d come back to life and started talking about the intricacies of hieroglyphics. Okay, so he had ADHD, apparently. That was ADHD. 

Dean left with a prescription for a when-needed stimulant and a weirdly light feeling in his chest. It took him five weeks to find his ring, right where Cas had put it in his bathroom drawer. He had laughed at Dean when he yelled at him, which brought Dean back down to a self-deprecating laugh. Later, Dean forwarded him an article about ADHD and object impermanence, and Cas started immediately giving Dean things he found if he thought he’d lost them. Which. Was A Solution.

[babybluebex]

sugar pie, honey bunch [lee bodecker smut]

➽ pairing: lee bodecker x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 4.3k ➽ summary: lee gets tired of your secret rendezvous at work, so he comes to your house and does something about it.   ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, unprotected sex (pls wear a condom), daddy kink, degradation, infidelity by both parties, loss of virginity, mentions of anal sex ➽ a/n: if you know me irl no u don’t <3

It was quiet. Too quiet. I hated that. The silence let my thoughts run amok and that was never good for anybody, but least of all me. I had a tendency to overthink things, and quiet and still only amplified that. Knockemstiff, Ohio was the absolute worst place to live if you hated silence, because nothing happened in that little town. About twelve years ago, there had been a veteran who killed himself after his wife died, but that was the loudest thing that had ever happened to my little Knockemstiff. I should know; I worked as a secretary at the police station. I heard all of the gossip from around town. Earlier today, someone had been arrested for being drunk, which I think everyone in Knockemstiff could be in violation of. Every other day was quiet. It was hell. 

I could hear the crickets way out in the fields as I walked around the house. Those bugs served as my soundtrack as I found a box of matches and quietly slid a few into my mouth, and I padded through the house until I reached the front door. Knockemstiff was the sort of town where people didn’t use their front doors unless the Pope was showing up; it was all side doors and garages (if you were lucky enough to have one, which most of us didn’t). All that to say, I knew I could smoke by the front door and nobody would smell it. 

The night was hot. Oppressive and stifling, nearly suffocating. My skin was tacky against my nightshirt as I struck a match and lit a cigarette, and I leaned up against the side of the house. The moon was full, casting silver light onto my barren front yard and the dirt road that stretched exactly from one side of town to the other that ran in front of the house. It was a weird sort of beautiful. But quiet. Oh so quiet. 

Quiet, until I heard the far-off rumbling of a car. It wasn’t unheard of to get visitors in the night-- usually someone coming to ask me about the police station, because nobody had the balls or willpower to call our sheriff after hours-- but the noise drew closer at a snail’s pace. Whoever this was wasn’t in any hurry at all. Finally, a car rolled up in front of the house, the headlights off. There was a moment where I watched the car, then I sighed when the door wrenched open to reveal Lee Bodecker. The sheriff was a nice enough guy, maybe at the risk of being too nice sometimes and a total prick at others, but I was at a loss for why the hell he’d be here this late at night with his cruiser’s lights off. If it were an urgent police matter, he’d have his flashing lights on. 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Sheriff Bodecker told me, his voice carrying across the yard. 

“Do what?” I quipped. 

His boots brushed the porch as he climbed the steps up, and I caught his eye in the moonlight. “Smoking’s unbecoming of a young woman,” Bodecker told me pointedly. “Anyway, it’s a bad habit.” 

“You come to lecture me on smoking?” I asked. “I ain’t quite finished typing up that arrest report yet, if that’s what you’re after.” 

“No, no,” Bodecker said. “Nah, I ain’t here for that, sugar.” 

“Oh?” I said, crossing my arms. “And what are you here for?” 

“We’ll get to that soon enough,” Bodecker said. “Ain’t you gonna invite me in? It’s awful late.” 

“Exactly why I’m not gonna do that,” I said quickly, taking an exaggerated drag on my cigarette. “People talk, Lee. Blowjobs in the supply closet during lunch break are one thing; showing up to my house unannounced at half past midnight is something else. And I ain’t gonna be no Whore of Knockemstiff, ya hear me? Run along. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Invite me in, Y/N,” Bodecker said, tilting his head down to look me in the eyes. Bodecker was imposing: six feet tall and sturdy as a mule, even if his middle was getting a little soft. He had these steel-blue eyes that cut right to my core and gorgeous eyelashes, with puffy pink lips and a little cleft in his chin. Maybe if he were ten years younger, thirty pounds lighter, with one less marriage, I’d be into him properly, but that wasn’t the case. Our relationship was one of necessity (but aren’t they all?). His pretty little wife had stopped sucking his cock and he had a thing for my pink lipstick. It worked. That wasn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy our little trysts, because I definitely did, but something felt off about this certain encounter. He had never paid me a visit at home before. “Be a good little host for me.” 

I huffed and stamped out my cigarette. “Come in, won’t you?” I grumbled, throwing open the squeaky screen door. It felt off to have Lee in my house, but everything about us was off. I guess this was only normal. 

I flipped the light on and settled myself against the counter as Lee pulled off his tan sheriff’s hat. His hair was dark as pitch, shorn short on all sides but getting a little long at the top, and little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes as he squinted at the pictures I had on the fridge. “And who’s this?” he asked, pressing his thumb into a picture. 

I looked at it and clenched my teeth. “Boyfriend,” I answered simply. 

“Oh?” Lee chuckled. “And where is he?” 

“Well, right now, he’s in ‘Nam,” I answered. “He enlisted, got sent over.” 

“And he didn’t propose before he left?” Lee asked, and I shook my head. “Hmm. Usually when men go to war, they make sure that they’ll have someone waiting for them when they get back.” 

“Why are you here?” I asked suddenly. “What do you want?” 

“The wife’s mad at me tonight,” Lee said. “She was drinking and started yellin’ at me. Said I was better gone.” 

“And you came here?” I said. “Why?” 

“Got nowhere else to go,” Lee shrugged. “And I figured that you’d welcome me.” 

“You couldn’t go to a bar?” I asked. 

“Not unless I wanted to run into my sister,” Lee said. “And I don’t feel like having a fucking lecture.” 

I sucked in air through my teeth. “Fine,” I finally said. “But you’re on the couch.” 

“Aw, c’mon, babe,” Lee groaned. He approached me at my place at the counter, and his arms went on either side of me, keeping me right where he wanted me. “It’s been a long day for me. You’re not really gonna make me sleep on no stinkin’ couch, are ya?”

“I sure am,” I told him. “‘Cause you’re sure as hell not sleeping in the bed.”

Lee tilted his head. “Not even a good night kiss?” he asked. 

“No,” I said. “This is an inconvenience for me. I got shit to do tomorrow and I need sleep.” 

“Which is why you were outside smoking,” Lee said. 

“Helps me calm down,” I snapped. “Lee. Let me go.” 

“You sure are a stupid little bitch, huh?” Lee sneered. “You really think I rolled up to your house just wanting a place to sleep? Honey, you shoulda been expecting more.” 

Lee regularly spoke to me like this, but it was usually while I was tying my hair back and kneeling down in front of him. “Don’t call me that,” I said. 

“It’s true, though, ain’t it?” Lee asked. “Just a dumb bitch, that’s all you are. You fuck a married man and try to act like you’re better than everyone else. And you don’t think everyone knows?”

My ego deflated in half a second. “Do they?” I asked shakily. 

“That’s why the wife kicked me out,” Lee said. “Someone told her I was fuckin’ you, and she got mad. Asked for a divorce and all.” 

“We’re not fucking, though,” I tried to counter. 

“Oh, so you’ll put my cock in your mouth and call it ‘convienience’, but you draw the line at calling that ‘fucking’?” Lee scoffed. “C’mon, sugar. The whole town already knows it.” I tried to keep my chin up, but I know that Lee saw my lip trembling. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Except the whole town doesn’t know, do they? Your little boyfriend goes to sacrifice himself for the betterment of our fuckin’ country, and you’re here, whoring yourself out for me? Is that why you don’t wanna fuck me proper? Saving your first time for that bitch-boy?” 

“I’m not a virgin,” I said, but Lee instantly saw through my lie. 

“Bullshit,” he said. “You know how I know? You suck cock like a high schooler.” Lee’s hand went to my waist, and he held me a tight, bruising grip. His hands were so much stronger than I had imagined, and an unfamiliar heat bloomed between my legs. My arousal wasn’t usually a part of the supply closet moments between us, and I had never really felt that before my boyfriend left. This was uncharted territory for me, and I hated that Lee seemed to instantly know that. “I bet you think about me every night, don’t you?” Lee asked. He leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “Don’t you?” He growled, taking my skin between his front teeth. 

“Fuck,” I hissed. “You’re a dick.”

“Answer me,” Lee snapped, smacking my ass hard enough to make me gasp in pain. “You think of me fucking you stupid every single goddamn night, don’t you? I can tell, with the way you eye me at the station. You’re not subtle, honey, not in the slightest.” 

“Lee,” I whimpered. “You’re hurting me.” 

“Good,” Lee huffed into my neck. He shoved his hips against mine with enough force for my waist to collide with my countertop, and I became well and truly stuck between Lee’s rock-hard cock and the counter. I knew what he was offering, and I couldn’t deny that the thought of his thick cock inside of me made butterflies erupt in my tummy. He kissed my neck, becoming more needy by the second, and he finally sank his teeth into my skin. “Gonna have to make up your mind, sugar, or I’ll do it for you.” 

I gulped down my anxiety, and I whispered, “Be gentle.” 

“That’s a good girl,” Lee chuckled. “Show me where that bed is, sugar. I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t remember your own goddamn name.” 

As soon as I pulled Lee into my bedroom, he had pushed me onto the bed and was kissing me hard. He bit my lips and sucked on my tongue, and he swallowed every pathetic moan I let out. God, I was pathetic. I was shaking, I wanted him so badly. Lee obviously knew that and had no problem with letting it go to his head, because he situated himself over me and gave me a wolfish smile. “You want me to undress you, sugar?” he asked. 

“I can do it,” I told him. 

Quickly, I rid myself of my nightshirt, and my skin tingled at the exposure to the air. Lee gave a gentle sigh, almost like one of relief, and dipped his head to my chest. He ran his tongue from the dip of my neck to between my breasts, and he latched his teeth onto one of my nipples with no warning. I nearly gave a shout of surprise, but I kept it contained. If this bit of foreplay was any indication, there would be enough time for shouting and crying later. 

“These…” Lee growled, grabbing at my breasts with rough hands. “Perfect fuckin’ tits, sugar, Jesus. Wanna come all over them. I just might have to.” 

Lee’s mouth went to my other breast, and one of his hands fluttered down from my chest to my waist, and even lower. Again, without so much as a censure, he pushed a finger past my folds and sunk himself knuckle-deep into my throbbing heat. My back arched against my will and I cried out at the amazing feel of it, and Lee laughed into my tits. “I’m only doin’ this ‘cause it’s your first time,” Lee told me, slowly dragging his finger in and out of me. It was a feeling like nothing I had ever experienced before, and I felt tears welling in my eyes. It was so fucking good. “If I had it my way, I’d already have my cock in you. Have you on your belly, fucking the hell outta you, watching myself fuck you so deep.”

“Please, Lee,” I sobbed. 

Through my watery gaze, I saw Lee smile against my chest. “Oh, what a good girl,” he moaned softly. “You’re my little fuck-toy, ain’t ya? Just fuckin’ desperate and begging for it. I guess it won’t take too long to fuck you absolutely stupid, will it?” I shook my head, and I jerked in surprise when his calloused finger drove itself into that spot inside of me. I called out his name; I was too far gone to care about the sick pleasure I knew it gave him. “Beg for it, sugar. Beg me to fuck you dumb.” 

“Please, Lee,” I whimpered. “Lee, fuck, please. I-I want you to fuck me so hard, please, babe.” 

Lee withdrew his fingers from me and sent a hard slap to my throbbing clit. This time, my gasp was one of genuine pain. “That ain’t what you call me and you fuckin’ know it,” he grunted. “Do it right or don’t do it at all.” 

I knew what he wanted, and I was too far gone to care. “Oh, Daddy, please,” I mewled, squirming, longing for his touch once more. “Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me ‘til I can’t walk. I want you so deep in my pussy, please.” 

“That’s more like it,” Lee whispered. Then, with a strength that I didn’t know that he possessed, he turned me onto my stomach and tugged my hips into the air. My arms shook as I tried to steady myself, and I felt my wet arousal drip down my thigh. As I tried to steady my breathing and remove the fog from my mind, I heard the sounds of Lee undoing his belt and shoving his pants down his thick thighs. His big hand captured a handful of my hair unexpectedly and he tugged me upright with only a small huff of exertion, and he bit my neck again. Lee Bodecker was an animal, and I liked it that way. 

One hand stayed in my hair as his other guided himself inside of me, and I nearly felt sick. The stretch was otherworldly and, dare I say, painful. Maybe the prep he had been doing wasn’t such a poor idea. But I had made my bed; now I had to lie in it. “Slow down,” I panted, feeling the tears return, and I writhed in his grip. “Fuck, Daddy, it hurts.” 

“I know it does,” Lee whispered, biting my ear. “But you asked for this. You asked for me to fuck you, and I’m gonna do just that. And ya know what? I think I’ll come in this pretty little cunt. What do you think of that?” I started to protest, but Lee shoved his fingers in my mouth, effectively shutting me the hell up. Even if I wanted to say something, I couldn’t. “Fill you up to the fuckin’ brim, have it drip outta you, it’ll be such a filthy thing to see. Your little boytoy comes home from the war and you’ve been letting an older, married guy stuff you full of cum? You think he’ll like that? Think he’ll wanna share?” Lee snapped his hips forward, fully burying himself inside of me, and I gave a wrecked sob around his fingers. I thought for sure that he would split me in two. 

Lee’s fingers dug into my hip as he started a steady rhythm. I truly had no idea how old he was-- I imagined probably late 30s or early 40s-- but he was fucking me hard and fast with the stamina of someone my age. Either he had a lot of expertise in the field or he truly had the fantasy of coming inside of me and was wanting to hurry the process along. The more I thought about it, I realized that I really knew nothing about Lee. Not his wife’s name or if he had kids; I didn’t even know that he had a sister until he had mentioned it earlier. However, something about not knowing was better than knowing. At least, this way, I could sort-of distance myself from the act. I was fucking the sheriff (or, technically, he was fucking me), but we weren’t an item. I was just his favorite toy. 

Lee suddenly wrenched my arms behind me and captured them against his chest, fully restraining me and leaving me pliable for him. With his fingers still in my mouth, I could hardly do anything but submit, but I liked that. I couldn’t tell if the throbbing in my pussy was pleasure borne from the way he was punishing my g-spot, or pain derived from his taut balls hitting my wet pussy every second. I had gotten my wish; there was to be no walking in the morning. I could feel spit gathering at the corners of my mouth, and I nearly choked on it, but Lee suddenly slowed down, molding his soft body against my back. “Fuck, honey, I’m gettin’ close,” he panted in my ear. “Now’s the time to tell me if you want me to come in ya or not.” 

His fingers left my mouth, and I tried to form any thought. Lee was the only thing in my head, though, and I could only whimper out his name. That was answer enough for him, because he released my arm and shoved me down onto the bed. His hand grasped the back of my neck and held me down as his hips pounded in and out of me, huffing and panting. I never could have imagined that the sound of that would have turned me on as much as it did, but my muscles tightened around his fat cock, and he laughed. “Aw,” he cooed. “Does the little cunt need to come? I’ll be honest, I forgot all about that. Wanna make a mess all over Daddy’s cock, don’t you?” 

I answered with a keening whine, but that didn’t seem to be enough for Lee. He smacked my ass hard, surely adding to the redness and bruising that I know already existed, and he fisted my hair tighter. “Answer me, bitch,” he growled. “Say it. Say ‘I wanna come on your cock, Daddy’.” 

“I wanna--” I started, and a shudder went down my body when I felt something warm and wet find home on my asshole. I was so far past the point of degradation, and my mind instantly went somewhere else. I had heard about that, sure, but I had never imagined that that could be something that I wanted. And yet, here I was, Lee’s spit coating my ass, mumbling out words that would send me to hell. “Fuck, Daddy. Can you fuck my ass?” 

“Oh, is that what you want?” Lee asked. “As tempting as that is, I’ll save that for another night. I’m not sure you’re a virgin, sugar, begging for it up the ass. But, fuck, it looks so good… I guess we have something to look forward to, huh?” 

Lee’s arm wound around my body and he instantly went to my poor clit. His fingers had tugged at it enough to make it tender to the touch, and he abused it as he fucked right into my g-spot. “Jesus Christ,” Lee whispered. “Squeezing the shit outta me. I’m serious, honey, let me know if you don’t want me to come in you. You’re about to not-- fuck, Y/N-- have a choice.” 

“I want it,” I told him. “I fuckin’ want it.” 

That seemed to be the final straw, because Lee sent one more hard fuck into me, and I felt his cock twitch before warmth spilled into my pussy. The squelching as he continued to fuck me through his orgasm was so loud that I was afraid that the whole of Knockemstiff would hear it, but I couldn’t make up my mind on whether I cared or not. Somewhere in the middle of that, Lee cussed and began to rub my belly, whispering sweet things to me that would have felt out of place only minutes before. I didn’t realize that I had come. I liked the feeling of it, though, especially with how sweet Lee was suddenly.

“Good girl,” Lee told me. He shushed me as I moaned and cried, my pleasure edging on pain, and he pushed my hair away from my neck and placed gentle, open-mouthed kisses on my throat. “So, so good for me, ain’t ya? So goddamn pretty when you’re coming all over my cock. I can’t tell you how much I dreamt of this…” 

My entire body trembled as Lee pulled out of me, and I collapsed onto my bed, panting and trying to form a coherent thought that wasn’t just the sheriff’s name. Only a few seconds passed before he was on me again, but it felt different this time. Lee moved the two of us under the blankets and rubbed my back, and he kissed my forehead gently. I nearly thought it was love. As my tears dried and feeling returned to my fingers and toes, I became aware that Lee was naked against me. As far as I knew, he hadn’t undressed as he had fucked me. His skin was so warm and it was comforting, and I nuzzled my head into his soft chest. My throat was so dry as I tried to swallow to form words, and Lee titled my face up in order for me to look him in those pretty blue eyes of his. 

“How’re ya feeling, sugar?” He asked, his voice as wrecked and raw as mine. “Feelin’ alright?”

“Sore,” I mumbled. “It hurts, Lee.” 

“I’m sorry, honey,” Lee whispered, and I knew that he was being honest. Lee was perhaps the biggest jerk in town, his elected title obviously inflating his ego more than it should have, but I never knew that he was capable of being sweet in this manner. “I was real rough with ya and I just shouldn’t have been. I feel plum awful ‘bout it.” 

“No,” I croaked, splaying my hands against his chest. Underneath the coarse hair, I could make out white marks on his skin, and I pressed my forehead against him. As I studied his body, I saw more and more of the marks, and it was only when I saw my hip against his that I connected the dots. Stretch marks. My Lee had stretch marks all over him, just like I did. “Please don’t. I woulda stopped you if it was too much. Thank you.”

Lee nodded and sighed into my messy hair. “You looked so beautiful,” he told me. “Any man that calls you his is a lucky fuckin’ bastard, I’ll tell you that much.” 

I couldn’t help myself. My lips pressed against my chest, and I took care to kiss every mark I laid my eyes on. “You’re…” I began. “You’re gorgeous, Lee.” 

“Nah, knock that shit off,” Lee chuckled. “I ain’t nothin’ compared to you, sugar.” 

“No, really,” I told him. “Those big blue eyes, your pink cheeks… Your fat fuckin’ cock--” I laughed at myself, and Lee kissed the top of my head. “You’re the most handsome man I ever met.”

“Even more than your soldier boyfriend?” Lee asked. 

“My soldier boyfriend’s like a twig, Lee,” I told him. “There’s nothing there for me. But you…” 

“I’m fuckin’ fat, s’what I am,” Lee said with a smile, but I saw the hurt in his eyes. “I’m old and I’m fat--”

“Alright, shut up,” I said. Suddenly, a different sort of desire burned in me, and I pushed Lee onto his back before I straddled his waist. “There ain’t nothing wrong with you, ya hear? You are fucking perfect, Lee.”

The insecurity flashed across his face, darkening his features for only a second. “But the marks--” 

I twisted my body to show him my hip and thigh. “I got ‘em too,” I said. “And don’t act like you didn’t see them, not for one second. And what did you do? You didn’t give a shit. I don’t either. They’re a part of you, and you are so sexy, Lee. I wanted to jump your bones from the moment I met you, and nothing ‘bout that’s changed and nothing’ll make it change. And ya know what? I’d reckon you’re stuck with me, so get used to it.” 

“Oh, I’m stuck with ya, am I?” Lee asked with a smile. He tugged me down to him, pressing his tongue into my mouth once more, and the ache between my legs was replaced with the now-familiar pleasing tingle. “And I get no say in it?” 

“I think you got your say when you wanted to fuck me up the ass,” I said, sinking my teeth into his plush bottom lip. “What a fuckin’ cliche we are, huh? The sheriff fuckin’ his secretary.” 

“When I first hired you,” Lee began, his warm hands traveling all over my body, and his fingers took special care to trace the white marks along my thighs, hips, tits, and ass. “My wife hated the idea. She said she was worried that late nights at the station would wreak havoc on me, and having a pretty little thing like you there with me was dangerous.” 

“Don’t go talkin’ ‘bout your wife,” I groaned. “That’s such a turn off, Lee.” 

“Oh, is it?” Sheriff Lee Bodecker laughed, stuffing his fingers back inside me, just like nothing had ever happened. “‘Cause you seem all wet for Daddy, just the same.” 

[narashikari]

kari I envy you...

You can save images off of the internet especially like simp images... I can't even save a simply barbie image or even a naruto image for fear that my mom and dad, mostly my dad because my mom is still having a hard time adjusting to touch screen phones, she still has a nokia something (not 3310) because she feels comfortable using it lol, would get a hold of my phone and wander to the galleries section lol

I constantly have to close my word files or immediately open up a new browser because they have a bad habit of reading through what was on screen.

And as a writer and fanfic reader, I read fics with curse words or even write curse words for a story myself.

and I'm not allowd to curse, but somehow my older brother is.

I think you assume a bit too much about me :)) long post under the cut

My parents are very similar to yours, actually. Very conservative, rather demanding, and very snoopy. Especially my mom.

I may sound paranoid, but my parents gave themselves away when they scolded my (very outspoken liberal) younger sister for something she posted- that's how I knew for certain that they were keeping an eye on us online. Even my mom, who is so technophobic that she has to ask me to turn the aircon on, knows her way around FB.

So I ditched it, almost entirely. I just have my FB to use Messenger, since that's how I keep in touch with my irl friends.

I went to tumblr specifically because I knew my parents didn't know about it. Same for Reddit, back when I used it often, and AO3. I never had Twitter, and when I got Instagram I specifically made it just to follow toku stuff- i.e., no following irl friends and family.

And I make damn sure to lock all my gadgets and accounts up with passwords. I NEVER use my irl name.

But also. I studied hard when I was a kid, being consistently on the honor roll and never failing a single class. Even my most detested PE. I've worked a stressful 9-to-5 job for the past five years. I don't have vices, I pay my own credit card bills. I don't go out often, heck I don't even have a lot of friends to go out with. I've never brought home any boys dad would disapprove of because I haven't even had a boyfriend. I avoid touchy subjects with them, especially my political views which are more or less diametrically opposed to them.

And for another thing... I'm twenty-seven fucking years old. I'm way too goddamned old to have mommy and daddy looking over my shoulder when I use my phone.

So as you can see, I do have to tread lightly around my parents, even at my age. But, I've also given them plenty of reasons to give me some damned privacy, and they owe it to me to give me that privacy. If not because I've done my damnest to live up to their expectations, then because I'm a fucking adult now and I need not tell them every fucking detail of my life anymore.

Well... now I have to be the one apologizing for the rant :))

[thran-duils]

My Turn (PA P.2)

Title: My Turn (Performance Art, Part Two) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Ransom Drysdale. The reader is married to Ransom; a picture of their life and flashback to when they met. If she had been here by her own choice and her own choice alone, things may be better for her. Ransom is devious though and is able to tangle her into his web. Words: 2,651 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Dub-con, dub-con smut, body shaming, coercion, emotional abuse, loveless relationship Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a one shot but here we are.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“You are always so much more relaxed when Ransom isn’t here,” Harlan remarked lightly, his fingers tapping on the table lightly.

You looked over your shoulder from the stove at him, caught off guard by the comment. He was sitting there, his gaze prodding. Marta was at the small kitchen table with him as well, looking as uncomfortable as you with the random comment.

When he noticed the startled look on your face, he gave you a gentle smile. “I’m not accusing you, Y/N. No need to be on edge. Just… making an observation.”

Unsure of what to say, you looked away trying to conjure up anything that would not be taken too seriously.

“He can be intense sometimes,” you offered up, stirring the soup in the pot.

Once a month at least, you made a point to visit Harlan on your own – well, now with Oliver. He was sleeping in one of the guest rooms upstairs that still held one of the cribs from when his grandchildren were young. Now, his great-grandson was using it. Fran had taken the baby monitor with her down to the laundry room. She insisted on coddling him as much as she could when you visited. You were cooking dinner as you usually did when you made these visits. You enjoyed Harlan’s company – your grandparents had never been a large part of your life, so it was nice to have one. You cherished his company and his humor. And you enjoyed Marta’s company as well. She was the closest thing you had to a real friend. All the women at the country club were not for you, even though you faked it perfectly whenever you were around them.

‘’Intense’,” Harlan rolled around in his mouth, contemplating on the word choice. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose that is an accurate way to describe it.”

The conversation dropped off from there, silence filling the space. You snuck a look at him and saw he was deep in thought, staring down at his hands.

What an odd thing to say, you thought to yourself.

But Harlan was one to notice something like that.

<><><>

As you walked back from the kitchen with a glass of water, you noticed Harlan was standing in his veranda, overlooking the back yard. Changing course, you walked out of the screen door, catching his attention.

“Anything interesting, birthday boy?” you asked.

“Besides the beautiful sunset?” Harlan asked, smiling and gesturing at the setting sun.

“It is a fine shade of orange,” you commented, coming to stand by him.

He nodded and asked, “How are you enjoying the party so far? And where are my congratulations? I think that’s in order.”

You laughed, “Of course. Congratulations for your 85th birthday. And it is… just beginning. So, so far so good. The cake looks lovely, I saw it in the kitchen. Lemon frosting. Should be tasty. It is one of my favorites.”

“I remembered that,” Harlan said. “You love lemon tarts too. And lemon bars. I am sensing a theme here. We are very much alike in our passion for lemon dessert.”

“Hmm, you’re really going to enjoy part of your gift,” you said, reaching into your pocket for the candies. “I brought these for you.”

He peered into your outstretched hand and let out a throat chortle. You dumped the lemon warheads into his hand, sharing the laugh. Examining them, he said, “I am sure that is what my face will look like when I eat them.”

“Should do it in front of everyone. It’ll look nice in the photos,” you joked.

“I just might,” Harlan said, smiling at you. He slipped them into his pocket and told you, “Thank you, Y/N.” He held out his arm. “Escort me inside?”

You looped arms with him, “Yes, of course.”

<><><>

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ransom snapped, standing in front of Harlan’s desk. Harlan had called him into the study from the party and informed him he was considering changing his will, expressing his unhappiness with the family.

“Does it sound like I’m kidding?” Harlan asked nonchalantly, only a twitch in his face giving away he was annoyed that Ransom had swore at him. “It is what is best for everyone if they do not shape up.”

“So, you’re just going to give your fortune away if everyone doesn’t change to what you want them to be?” Ransom asked, laughing in disbelief.

Harlan shook his head, “No… no, I do not intend to do that. I will leave it to Marta.”

“You’re joking,” Ransom scoffed. “Your Brazilian nurse? Are you insane?”

“No, I’m thinking straight for the first time in a while. And not just Marta. But Oliver too,” Harlan informed him. Ransom straightened at that, his eyes narrowing. Harlan gave him a wry smile, “Now, don’t you go trying to get clever about it either, Ransom. Oliver won’t be able to touch it until he’s 25 years old.” Ransom scoffed again, looking furious. “And to that point as well, Y/N will be in charge of it until then.”

Ransom’s eyes bugged incredulously, and he blurted, “Y/N?” He seemed more offended about this than hearing about Marta.

He shook his head, biting his cheeks. He was supposed to control her, not the other way around.

Stepping towards the desk, he demanded, “Just because she bakes you dinner every once in a while? She gets to have millions of dollars for that?” His voice was rising. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You really have lost your goddamn mind!”

“You do not get to tell me what I am going to do with my will!” Harlan said louder than he intended to.

Leaning forward, Ransom pointed at him threateningly, “I’m warning you—”

“You should be grateful,” Harlan cut him off.

“’Grateful’?” Ransom demanded. “Grateful? What about this should I be grateful about?”

“That your son will be taken care of,” Harlan told him firmly. “I’m only telling you because I do hold a special place for you, Ransom, but you need to do better by her. And consequently, be a father, a real one. Prove to me you love the family you have and grow it with purpose. I don’t plan on sharing this with anyone… they can figure it out after I am gone if things don’t change. You have an opportunity here—"

Ransom barked out a laugh, throwing his hands up. “I can’t with this. Look, when you’ve got your head screwed back on, I’ll be here to talk. Happy fucking birthday.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel, storming to the door. He threw it open, letting it hit the wall on his way out.

<><><>

Meg was cooing at Oliver, smiling as his eyes followed her. You adjusted him in your arms and asked, “Do you want to hold him?”

“Oh, su—”

“Get your shit,” Ransom ordered you, appearing out of nowhere, startling the two of you. “We’re leaving.”

He looked engulfed in fury and you knew better than to argue with him normally but like this was signing a death wish. But it was Harlan’s birthday, and you could not help yourself.

“But the cake and—”

“You don’t need cake, do you?” Ransom spat vehemently.

Heat quickly game to your cheeks and you closed your mouth, sinking into yourself at his insult. He always knew how to cut you the deepest. Meg though was another story.

“What the hell, you asshole—” she started to spit back at him.

“Shut the fuck up, Meg. Don’t you have some communist bullshit to go read about how you’re going to undermine the government?” Ransom snarled and snapped his fingers at you. “Y/N, what did I just tell you? Stop standing there looking stupid. Get Oliver’s shit and let’s go. I’ll be in the car, don’t make me wait.”

He turned on his heel, swiping his coat off the back of the chair by the door.

You swallowed sharply, trying to hold back tears as you made eye contact with Meg for a moment before averting your gaze, humiliated.

“What the fuck is up his ass?” Meg muttered, staring in anger at where he had disappeared.

You managed a shrug as you began walking towards the door where Oliver’s car seat was waiting. She told you she would get him buckled up if you wanted to go say goodbye to everyone. You shook your head, not trusting yourself to not look like a mess, nervous about how Ransom was going to be for the rest of the night.

The car ride home was unpleasant. He was silent but you could tell he was fuming. And he kept stealing angry glances your way and you could not for the life of you figure out what you had done.

When you did get home, he hit the scotch, making a stiff one as soon as he got through the door practically and you made yourself scarce. You planned to steer clear of him as much as you could knowing his bad mood was only going to be exacerbated by the alcohol.

The TV echoed from downstairs, he was not watching it quietly. You swore under your breath, as Oliver babbled softly. He had been sleeping so soundly in the car and had woken up to the loud noise downstairs. It took awhile to get him back to sleep and when he finally did, you laid him down gently and left the room as quiet as you possibly could, closing the door. You waited a few seconds and did not hear him cry out, much to your relief.

Going to the bedroom, you got ready for bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly because Oliver had a habit of waking up around 4:00am.

Just as you had turned off your bedside lamp, you heard a creak. Turning, you saw Ransom’s silhouette was in the doorway, illuminated from the hall light. The TV was still on downstairs and you hoped he was only up here to change and would leave again without unleashing any more beratement on you. You still could not figure out what you had done that had made him so upset with you. There was usually something. You wore the wrong type of dress, cooked something he was not in the mood for, came too quickly…

He stalked into the room coming to your side of the bed and the hope he was going to leave you alone was quickly fading. He reached out and turned on your lamp again, staring down at you. You could see he was drunk; you knew the signs in his eyes.

“Are you coming to bed?” you asked him calmly.

His smile was unkind. “Oh, yes. Dear wife. I am coming to bed.” Just as quickly as it had appeared, his smile fell and he ordered you, “Take that stupid thing off.” You stammered and he asked annoyed, “Am I going to have to rip it off of you?”

Quickly, you pulled the nightgown off, sitting naked on the edge of the bed as he undressed himself, kicking his clothes off to the side. He was already getting hard, to your surprise considering how much he must have imbibed by the smell of his breath. Before he even had to ask, you laid back, your fingers at your sex. You tried to relax as your fingers worked, trying to will yourself to start to get wet.

Ransom’s gripped your thighs and yanked you across the bed towards him. “No, on your hands and knees,” he growled, half tossing you over in a fluid motion.

You did the rest of it for him, shook by his aggressiveness. You mourned prematurely for your pussy, knowing you were going to be sore tomorrow; you just knew sitting was going to be uncomfortable.

Behind you, as your fingers sunk into your sex, you could hear Ransom digging around in your bedside table. You only stalled for a second in your rubbing when you heard the unmistakable sound of one of your vibrators. He slapped your hand away and it fell back to the bed for you to rest your head on as he brought the toy to your clit. You moaned, fingers curling up in the comforter.

The pressure was building, and you begged, “Ransom, please…”

He only responded with a hum of approval and then the vibrator was gone. You had a split second to pout before he slapped your swollen pussy. You jolted, wincing at the sharp sting. His cock slipped in, his hand pressing down on the small of your back. His thrusts were deep and steady, groaning at the tightness.

Ransom’s hand clamped down on your jaw, turning your face to look at him forcibly. You gasped in surprise when he spit in your face, burying himself hilt deep. His hand moved up, wiping the spit all over your face roughly.

“You’re gonna cum all over my dick,” he rasped, slowly rolling his hips. You groaned, full of him. “Aren’t you?” You nodded feverishly and he smiled in response. “Can’t fucking help yourself.”

Ransom pulled out, snapping, “On your back.” Your calves rested on his shoulders, his fingers digging into the front of your thighs as he resumed his thrusting, jolting you against the bed. You keened, his cock brushing your g spot so easily in this position.

“Look at you…” he husked. “A dirty little whore. Say it!”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” you gasped back to him.

His eyes practically rolled back into his head. “Yeah, that’s all you are,” Ransom groaned in pleasure. “A filthy little skank. Mine. Mine…”

Trailing off, Ransom bit at his bottom lip as his thrusts became quick and shallow. It was too much, pushing you over the edge, much to his pleasure. You saw stars and your legs quivered and you heard him encourage you, a new slew of degrading names falling from his lips.

Your legs were held up by his hand as he stared down at your pussy, his eyes still hooded with arousal. You could feel his seed inside you – he always finished inside.

“That won’t do,” he murmured. His fingers ran up, wiping the cum dripping out of you and he shoved his fingers back in. “There we go… don’t want to waste a drop. Let’s make sure his little. fucking. favorite,” he grated out every word, his fingers pushing in deep and you clenched around him, biting your bottom lip as your high wore off. He was not being gentle. “Gives us another little bun in the oven to fawn over.”

Why was he talking in third person? You did not dare ask.

“You’re going to act happy, Y/N. You’re going to be happy. You’re going to fucking smile. You’re going to fucking love me, adore me. And everyone’s going to believe it,” Ransom snarled at you, his breath ragged. “That fucking clear? No more of this kicked puppy routine you fucking do. Especially when it seems I’m not there. I won’t have it. Not anymore. We are going to have a perfect little family from now on.”

“I—”

“Don’t fucking argue with me,” he said dangerously. “I said, ‘is that clear’? Just nod your head. It’s not that hard, Y/N.” You nodded silently and he clipped, “Good. You better shape up quick. I’m going to fuck you every night until you’re giving me another son.” His fingers slowed, his thumb rubbing your abused clit and you hissed. He smiled at the reaction and he gave it a little pinch, drawing a pathetic whimper out of you. “Yeah, you’re going to do exactly as I tell you. Such a good girl.”

He gave you a rough kiss and husked, “Don’t mistake me being nice to you outside these walls as anything other than it being my turn to put on a show.”

~~~

Tags: @coconutqueen21 

[niksixx]

Patience

~The final part!! Thank you for reading and supporting this mini series. I hope you enjoy part 5.~

Pairing: Axl Rose/Vince Neil x Female Reader 

A/N: Reblog so others can see! 

*Picture is NOT mine. Found on Google. Credit to the owner!*

Tag list: @littlemisscare-all @curly-hudson @julessworldd @madamsixx @headlight-queen @metalheartofgold @ginny-baker-sixx @mickmarstookmyheart @gunsngunners @bex-tothe-rescue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s raining again, and the weather outside matches your mood. Dark gray clouds cover the sky, and lightning strikes every so often. It’s one of the colder days in California, and you tug the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your wrists.

Vince hasn’t spoken to you in two days, and you haven’t heard from Axl since your boyfriend threatened him out of your house. You spent that day scrubbing the icing from the kitchen, tears sliding down your cheeks as Vince screamed at you the whole time. He left that night to visit a bar with Nikki, leaving you to cry softly in your bed. He didn’t return until the next morning.  

Two days later, your lips still tingle from the kiss you and Axl shared. It was the first time in weeks you’d felt something. Something good. Something wholesome. The tenderness in the kiss kept you wanting more, wanting to feel his lips on yours again.

In your heart, there’s conflicting feelings. And no one is there for guidance. Whatever Axl feels for you is strong. It could be love, and you’re not sure if you feel the same thing.

Of course, all three of the Mötley boys would listen to you ramble about your troubles, but none of them were experts in the dating scene. None of them had been in love before, with the exception of Tommy, but he fell in love with every woman he laid eyes on.

There’s an ache in your heart as you sit by the television, thinking back on the past three years you spent with Vince. Times that you hid in the shadows away from paparazzi. Times where you watched music award ceremonies on television, a pain in your heart knowing that you’d never be on Vince’s arm congratulating him. What kind of a relationship was that?

Even in the privacy of your own home, Vince struggled to love you and care for you. He wasn’t affectionate by nature. He’d greet you with small little pecks on your cheeks or lips, and his sex drive was usually through the roof, but being intimate with Vince felt anything other than intimate. It felt like a chore, and you were bored within ten minutes. With Vince, there was no cuddling or showering after sex, no confessions of love. It was hard to be open and honest with him about your wants and needs, because half of the time he seemed uninterested, or played you off as needy, clingy. It hurt, especially because you’d do anything for him. Mick had always said you deserved better. And Axl had said it too. When were you going to believe it?

There’s faint footsteps behind you as your eyes are glued to the TV, catching the last bit of a Skid Row music video. They were good, sure, but nothing compared to Motley Crue or even Guns N’ Roses.

There’s a change of scenery on the TV that makes you blink twice. It’s a live video, currently happening right at that moment, as Axl and his bandmates settle themselves into stools in an empty studio.

“Get them off my screen,” Vince calls from behind you. He sits at the dining room table, beer bottle suffocating in his grasp.

You don’t even pay him much mind. “You can leave if you don’t like it. I’m keeping it on.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, but you hear him mumble a few curse words under his breath. The last words out of his mouth sound like a defeated “I give the fuck up with you.”

On screen, Axl is handed a microphone as more are distributed to the rest of the band. Tilting your head slightly, you drink in his appearance, obsessed with the way he presents himself. He’s more casual today, with both a bandana and a hat on his head, a short sleeve white shirt that shows off his unique tattoos, and tight leather pants that shouldn’t look as good on him as they do.

“This was a spur of the moment type of thing,” he says shyly, rubbing a palm on his thigh. Nervous habit.  “We wrote this song in about two hours a few nights ago and the reason I was eager to play it today...is because I wrote it for a woman who I’ve been shamelessly in love with since I was sixteen years old.”

Something in the air shifts. Slack mouthed, you sit up straight as you turn up the volume. The sound of a chair scratching against the floor has goosebumps littering your skin, and before you know it Vince is standing beside you, gritting his teeth. He takes a long swig of the alcohol, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, before setting his jaw, folding his tanned arms across the front of his black muscle tee.

“So Y/N, if by some miracle you’re watching this right now, I want you to know that you were the only person on my mind as we wrote this song. It is solely, purely, for you.”

“Along with all the other love songs he’s written,” Izzy deadpans.

Vince’s eyes burn into the side of your head, but all your attention is directed toward the television as Axl begins to hum a soft tune.

~~~

It’s almost as if you forget how to breathe. It’s an easy process, in and out, in and out, but you struggle with something so simple as the song ends.

Vince hasn’t moved. His face is still visibly flushed, knuckles the palest shade of white as his hand still grips his beer, but he stands completely frozen, eyes boring into the television screen.

You shift uncomfortably on the sofa, pushing your feet deeper into the back of the couch underneath you, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your fuming boyfriend’s elbow. He pulls away, uninterested, and he sips the remaining liquid in the bottle.

“Vinnie…”

“The dude just doesn’t listen,” The laugh that falls from his lips is anything but humorous. It’s empty and dark. There’s an edge to his low voice, and while it’s not angry, it’s...cool. Even. It frightens you. “How many times do I have to tell him to stay away from you? How many different fucking ways can he come up with to get your attention?”

“Vince I had no idea he was going to do something like this.”

But hell, if it wasn’t the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you. He’d broadcasted to the world his raw feelings and emotions, and there was something so sexy about a man who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable and knew what, or who, he wanted. And the song, so sweet and meaningful, confirmed your suspicions. Axl Rose, the little boy from the playground, the man who sang his heart out on live TV, was in love with you.

Vince shakes his head, clapping a closed fist into an open palm. “This is your fault, you know.”

You blink, standing from the couch, folding your arms over the oversized green sweater. “My fault?”

He takes a step forward, but this time you don’t back down. “You let him back in your life. For seven years you’ve been fine without him, but all of a sudden you meet him one day on the street and decide you apparently can’t live without him? Bullshit.”

“He was my best friend!”

“And I’m your boyfriend!” Vince shouts back. He takes another step forward, nose to nose, and with the strength you gather from your very core, you shove him out of your face.

“You’re nothing!”

The anger in your voice shocks you, startling Vince. He stumbles against the dining room chair, holding onto the arm to regain his balance.

The air between you sizzles with resentment as Vince licks his lips, chewing on the skin. You're both breathing heavily, neither one backing down. “What did you say to me?”

And everything you've been feeling for the last few years comes out in a wave. “I can’t be with you anymore, Vince. I can’t be with someone who is so controlling of my life. I can’t be with someone who would rather please his record label than his girlfriend. I have been waiting for you to wake up for three years now and realize that I deserve better than what you’re giving me.”

“What the fuck have I done that is so bad, huh?” Vince yells, throwing up his arms. “Tell me. Because I sure as shit don’t know.”

It’s hopeless.

He’s hopeless.

And there’s nothing else you can do besides give up.

~~~

You fight for two hours. Screaming, crying, followed by more screaming and crying. It’s exhausting. Somehow, after pointing out everything Vince has done to you, or what he hasn’t done, he convinces himself he’s never been the problem. And that’s when you realize he’s never going to change.

Your phone has buzzed four times in those two hours, but whoever it was would have to wait. There was too much going on, your head was spinning, skin sweating, heart beating wildly. You were on the brink of ending your relationship after wasting three years of your life trying to convince yourself the man, who was currently nestled in the couch nursing another beer, loved you.

Letting out a defeated sigh, your feet drag against the wooden floor as they carry you to your room. There’s a small duffel bag under the bed and you grab it, fishing out some clothes and stuffing it into the bag. Grabbing a few of your necessary toiletries, you shove them in the side pockets as Vince watches from the doorway.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not staying here. I’ll go stay at Lei’s or maybe my parents or hell maybe even Mick will let me stay over, but I’m not staying here.”

“We still have a lot to talk about.”

The closet door slams closed as your blood boils. “No, Vince. We have nothing to talk about. Not anymore.”

You zip up the duffel and heave it to the living room, slipping on a pair of beat up Chuck Taylors. You pace the house for your keys, Vince following, watching your every move.

“I love you.”

You stop abruptly, spinning around, sucking in shallow breaths of air. No way. No fucking way was he going to manipulate you into staying. Not with those three goddamn words you longed to hear after such a long time.

“You don’t even know what love is, Vince.”

“Kiss me and I’ll show you.”

You find the keys to your car on the kitchen counter, snagging them from the tile. “I’m not kissing you, Vince. Never again.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing left!” Heaving the duffel onto your shoulder, you grab your phone and slide it into the side of the bag. “Fuck, at least with Axl I felt something!”

Vince freezes, veins popping out from his forehead. Fidgeting with the hem of your sweater, your mouth dries as you mentally scold yourself for the slip of the tongue.

“He...kissed you?” And for the first time in his life, Vince looks almost...upset. “And you kissed him back?”

Drumming your fingers on your jean clad thigh, you rub your palms against the fabric, wiping off the sweat. “Um…”

“Did you kiss him back?” Vince asks, emphasizing each word. “Yes or no?”

You can’t bring yourself to say it. So you don’t.

But no answer is always an answer.

In a flash, Vince is flying out the door, and you’re following just behind him. He throws open the door to his car, turning the key in the ignition, and fishes his phone from his jeans pockets, quickly dialing before holding it to his ear. “Sixx, what’s the address to Slash’s apartment? He still lives with the rest of ‘em, right?”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks when you realize what Vince is about to do. Throwing yourself at him, you try to pry the phone from his ear, but he stiffarms you, keeping you from the phone. “Don’t worry about what I’m going to do, man. Just tell me the damn address, I know you know it. You did coke with the guy for fucks sake.”  

“Vince, please don’t do this.”

A wicked gleam shines in his eyes, and you hear Nikki recite the address on the other end of the line. Frantically, you run to your car, throwing open the door, only to see Vince take off down the street.

~~~

When you pull up to the apartment, Vince is quickly climbing the stairs, cracking each knuckle. Grabbing your bag from the passenger’s seat, you stagger out of the car, locking it, before climbing the steps two at a time. “Vince, stop!”

He sprints down the hall, too fast for you as you heave the bag further up your shoulder. You watch as he knocks loud and hard on the door, and when it opens, he forces himself inside the apartment.

You hear Duff’s voice. “What the fuck--.” He peeks his head out, eyes widening when he sees you hobbling over. “Y/N? What is going on?”

By the time you reach the door, Vince has Axl pinned against the wall. From the kitchen, Izzy watches, horrified, as Steven and Slash pull on Vince’s shoulders.

“Stop!” Dropping the duffel by the door, you sprint across the room, pulling the two boys away. The last thing you need is someone getting hurt. “Vince, get off him!”

By some miracle, he lets go.

“You want to tell us what’s going on?” Steven directs to no one in particular, hands on his waist.

“How many times do I need to threaten you, Rose?” Vince asks, nostrils flaring as he glares at the startled redhead. “Because clearly, once wasn’t fucking enough.”

“Vin--.”

“She doesn’t fucking want you,” Vince continues. Axl fidgets under his gaze. “No song, no kiss, and yeah, I fucking know about that, too, will ever make her want you. You’re a pathetic excuse of a man. Your daddy didn’t want you, your step-daddy didn’t want you, and my girlfriend sure as fuck doesn’t want you.”

Your heart stills when Axl’s face falls. His father had always been a touchy subject. Though Axl hadn’t remembered much about his biological dad, there was still trauma hidden deep within as his brain tried to block it out. You were the first person Axl had told about the abuse, as he was a victim of both his biological father and step father.  You were there for him then, and just like you promised all those years ago, you’d be here for him now.

Vince backs away and you seize the advantage, positioning your body between them. Letting an open palm fall behind you, your heart bursts with love when another hand slides into yours.

Vince eyes your entwined hands, letting out a shaky laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“We’re done, Vince. You have hurt me for the very last time, and I will not stand here and let you hurt Axl. I simply won’t. Axl is a good man with a good heart and he always has been. And I know he loves me. He’s proved it,” Glancing back over your shoulder, you offer Axl a smile. His eyes are full of love as he watches you, squeezing your hand encouragingly. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

There’s nothing Vince can say. He can’t fix it. He can’t change. He’s lost you to a better man, a man that knows what he wants, and how to love someone the way they need to be loved.

He looks around the room, fists balled by his sides. Frowns, narrowed eyes, and bared teeth are directed toward him.

From the kitchen, Izzy is the first one to open his mouth. “You have three seconds to get your ass out that door before I call the police.”

With burning eyes, Vince backs away to the door, keeping his gaze locked on your face. “You’re going to regret this.”

He’s met with a confident shake of your head. “No, I don’t think I will.”

At the door, Duff gives Vince a warning stare. The blonde bassist towers over the scrawny blonde singer, looking even more intimidating in his leather apparel. Vince gives him a look before crossing the threshold, and Duff doesn’t hesitate shutting the door in his face.

Tension leaves your shoulders, the boys in the room letting out loud sighs of relief. You turn, lips turning upward. “I heard the song.”

Axl’s face softens. Sliding his hands around the sides of your neck, he pulls you close, foreheads just barely touching. “I figured. And you should know I meant every word.”

You don’t care that there are four boys watching you.

You don’t care that your eyes are shining with unshed tears.

You don’t care that you just ended a three year relationship.

All you care about is the moment when you push forward and kiss the lips in front of you with a fervent need. Arms circle your waist, pulling you deep as lips kiss you deeper. You cling to Axl’s shirt, never wanting to be apart from him again. But you know in your heart he’ll never let you go.

The warmth of his body dissipates when you pull back for a breath, the tips of your fingers grazing over the angles of his jaw, his cheekbones, and slowly coming back to the outline of his lips. They purse together, gently kissing the soft pads of your skin.

“I don’t want to rush anything,” Axl murmurs, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter at the sincerity in his voice.

“Oh, bullshit,” Duff laughs, leaning against the door. “He’d marry you tomorrow if he could.”

“Lovesick fool,” Slash chuckles in agreement, arm resting on Izzy’s shoulder.

“They’re not entirely wrong,” Axl says with a wink. “But the name of the song is Patience for a reason. We have all the time in the world, sugar.”

“I mean, you waited over seven years already, what’s another seven?” Steven jokes heartily.

Hands sliding around Axl’s neck, you pull him toward you once more. He dips to kiss you, and you savor in the feeling. Yeah, you’ll definitely get used to this.

“According to Izzy, you have a few other songs you wrote for me,” you say with a wiggle of your brows. “What do you say you sing them for me?”

In those perfect gray eyes, there’s nothing but love. And you feel it in your heart that you’re beginning to love him, too.  Maybe you won’t have to be patient after all. Love is natural, and with Axl, you don’t have to force it.

He whisks you away to his room, serenading you as you lie comfortably in his arms. He knows the songs by heart, and each one is unquestionably unique with different tones and melodies.

Turning in his arms, he continues to sing as you gaze at his face. So calm. So peaceful. So breathtakingly beautiful. And you realize now that somewhere in your heart, you had always loved that little boy on the playground.

And you were in love with the man he became.  

[kinglazrus]

Suspended Animation

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @ectopal: Sam finally asks Danny what he's going to do with himself after noticing that he as a halfa is not actually aging with his friends and family.

Warnings: swearing and mild panic attack. But there's also fluff.

Summary: It's been two years since Danny's accident and he hasn't aged a day. Sam wants to know what he's going to do about his future.

Word count: 2661

Danny was late. Which wasn't so surprising, but he was supposed to meet Sam at the park an hour ago and she hadn't even gotten a single text from him. She wondered what, or who, was holding him up. The Box Ghost? Skulker? Johnny and Kitty? Maybe Ember started an impromptu concert on the other side of town.

The idea made her shake her head and scoff. Yeah, right, as if any of those guys could keep Danny occupied for a whole hour nowadays. Maybe Johnny and Kitty could, but only because they had fallen into the habit of using Danny like a marriage counsellor, and that was just too damn funny.

For Danny to be this late, he was either caught up in something really dangerous or really stupid. Since the city wasn't exploding, or being sucked into the Ghost Zone—for the sixth time—it was probably the latter.

"Sorry I'm late, Sam. Johnny–"

Definitely the latter.

"It's fine," Sam said, cutting Danny off as he swooped into the clearing. Getting caught up dealing with the ghostly couple's relationship issues was better than being shot at by them, or anyone else.

"Still, sorry." Danny settled onto the grass next to her, crossing his legs. He quickly scanned the area, making sure they were alone. Sam had chosen a secluded spot, hidden by a copse of trees on one side and a low stone wall on the other. There were lots of little spots like this hidden all throughout the park, but this one was the best because it rested on top of a small hill. On the other side of the wall sat a pond, so no one could sneak up on them from behind.

Satisfied with the level of privacy, Danny transformed from Phantom back into Fenton. The temperature dropped for a moment as the transformation rings washed over him. Sam was forced to close her eyes against the bright light, blinking away spots when she opened them again.

"So, what'd you want to talk about?" he said. "And why out here?"

Sam looked up at the open sky. Once the sun finished setting, they would have a great view of the stars. Danny always said he felt more relaxed when the stars were out.

"No reason," she said.

Danny shrugged. "Okay. You sounded kind of serious in your text, though."

A stoic "We need to talk," probably wasn't Sam's best choice of words, but it was serious. Worrying her lip, she nodded and turned away from Danny. She reached into her backpack, discarded on the grass next to her, and pulled out a photo album. She had a lot of photo albums dedicated to a lot of different things: family, nature, animals, friends. This album was special. It's purple cover was decorated in glow-in-the-dark ghost stickers. Silly phrases like "Beware!" and "Ghost Zone's Greatest" were written across it.

This album was for Danny's, Sam's, and Tucker's eyes only, and it chronicled their ghost hunting adventures.

"Whoa, I remember making that," Danny said with a grin. He eagerly snatched the album from Sam's hands and flipped the cover open. The very first picture was of all three of them in the Fenton's lab. Sam, being the tallest at the time, held the camera out, Danny in the middle, Tucker squeezing in at the edge of the photo.

"Do you miss being the tallest?" Danny asked teasingly. He flipped through the album to the more recent photos and picked out one of Sam and Tucker lounging on a bench, picking dried ectoplasm out of their hair. Even while sitting, Tucker had a good few inches on Sam. If they had been standing, that gap would have been even bigger.

Sam slapped Danny's hand away and teased right back, "at least I'm not the shortest." She pointed to the next photo over

Another one with all of them together, lying down on the roof of Fenton. None of them were looking at the camera. Jazz had taken the photo without them knowing, peering down at them from the Emergency Ops-Centre.

Tucker, on the right, was focused entirely on his phone, holding it so close that the screen's soft glow lit up his face. Sam lay on her side in the middle, chin propped on her fist, reading a book. On the left, Danny had his arms folded behind his head as a pillow and was just staring up at the sky.

Their heads were all level, but looking at their feet showed they were arranged from tallest, to shorter, to shortest.

Sam remembered that moment. They had been hunting for a ghost that could bypass Danny's ghost sense. Using the advanced sensors in the Ops-Centre, they were waiting to get a ping back that the ghost had been located. It took almost an hour, but the wait wasn't so bad. They needed a nice, calm moment every now and again, when they could just be together in silence.

Two years ago, they probably would have wasted a whole afternoon looking for the ghost themselves. A lot had changed since then. In the grand scheme of things, two years wasn't much, but it was a long time for teenagers. Both Sam and Tucker had grown, shooting up a few inches. Sam's hair was longer. Tucker had a bit of stubble on his chin. Their faces were more defined. Their arms were visibly muscled.

But Danny hadn't changed at all. He was half a foot shorter than Sam. His cheeks still carried a bit of youthful roundness. Despite being the most physically active of all three of them, his arms and legs were the same thin twigs from when he was fourteen years old.

"Hey, have you seen how tall my dad is? I bet I'm gonna have a foot on both of you," Danny said, holding up his hand to show how tall he would be. "Just look at Jazz. She's taller than our mom now! And Mom's not exactly short, either."

"Danny," Sam said softly.

"Don't even get me started on Aunt Alicia."

"Danny!"

He stopped talking. His hand dropped into his lap, fingers curling into a tight fist, and he ducked his head. "Please tell me I at least fooled you a little," he said.

Sam reached over and took the photo album back from him. Removing the picture of them on the roof, she flipped back to the front of the book, holding the photo up against the first one of them all together. Danny looked exactly the same in both.

"Not even a little," she said.

"Damn."

Sam closed the album and set it aside. Scooting closer to Danny, she bumped their knees together, making him look up through his hair. Even that hadn't changed. Sam couldn't remember him getting a single haircut since his accident.

"Danny... what are you going to do?" she asked.

His hopeless expression broke her heart. "I don't know, Sam," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair, hands shaking. He was looking straight ahead, eyes wide and unfocused. "I don't know. I'm not– I haven't changed at all. What does that even mean? Am I not aging? Am I fourteen forever?"

Folding his hands over his head, he hunched forward, fingers digging into the back of his neck. "I don't know."

Sam reached out and touched his hand, trying to comfort him. But the moment she made contact, Danny flinched away, lurching to his feet. The sudden move startled Sam. She stared as Danny paced across the clearing, still holding his head.

"I'm just, I'm stuck, Sam! Everyone's leaving me behind! How can I graduate like this? Or go to college? Or do anything? You're all just going to keep going growing up and I'm going to stay here like, like this!" He gestured to his body. "But you want to know the worst of it? If this is my life now, then... one day, you're all really going to leave me behind."

The implications of what Danny said had the blood draining from Sam's face. She knew it was a possibility, but she hadn't seriously considered. Her, Tucker, Jazz, Danny's parents. Everyone. They were all going to keep aging, and getting older, and one day they would die. One by one, Danny would lose everyone he loves, and he would be left alone.

When Sam asked him here today, she just wanted to ask what his plans were for after high school. How would he deal with college, if he could even go? What would he do about work? What would he do about his parents?

But now he was spiralling into a panic and Sam didn't know what to do. The conversation went wrong so fast it gave her whiplash. She had to get things back under control.

"Danny, hold on," she said, rising to her feet.

He wasn't listening. He just kept pacing and panting.

"You need to take deep breaths, you're going to pass out."

"Don't you get it, Sam? I don't need to fucking breath! It's just a goddamn reflex at this point! Look, watch, see?" Danny pressed his hands against his chest, and he stopped breathing. Thirty seconds passed. Forty. One minute. Two.

They stood there, facing each other, neither one saying anything. Sam kept waiting for Danny's face to turn red. For him to suddenly gasp and suck in a big breath of air, like she did after holding her breath for too long, but he didn't even twitch.

"Danny," Sam said.

"What?" he snapped harshly. He started moving again, chest heaving, hands shaking.

Sam asked the only thing she could think of that would calm him down. "Where's Orion's Belt?"

Danny blinked at her, hands dropping, and repeated, "What?" It was less bitter this time.

"Orion's Belt." She gestured to the stars, which were now out on full display. "Where is it?"

"Um..." Danny's voice was shaky, but when he turned his head to look at the stars, his eyes looked less wild. "It's just above the trees."

He pointed. "There. The, the three stars."

Sam followed his hand, gaze searching the dark sky, and nodded when she found them.

"You can't see his knees right now. But, um, if you look up, just a little. His shoulder is– his shoulders are right there. And you can see the lion he's holding." As soon as Danny moved on to the other stars, Sam was lost, unable to see what he saw. But he kept talking, and she wasn't about to stop him. "Um. Jazz. Jazz told me it was a bow, when I was little, because she didn't know the story. Some people think it's a shield. It could be any of them, I guess. But. I like the lion."

He looked calmer. Still far from relaxed, but less like he was about to collapse. Sam approached him slowly, in case he wanted some space, watching for any sign that she should stop. When she saw none, she reached out and pulled Danny into a hug, pressing his head into her shoulder.

"Sam, have I always been dead?" he asked. His voice was steady, and he didn't sob, but Sam could feel his tears staining her shirt.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. Danny still bled, and he healed, and he ate, and he slept. "I don't think that's something we can know until..."

Until everyone else grew old and died and Danny didn't.

They held the embrace until Danny stopped shaking. He sniffed, rubbed his eyes, and pulled back, chuckling when he saw the dark spot on Sam's shirt.

"I swear, if you got snot on this, I'm gonna take the most embarrassing photo I have of you and plaster it all over the school tomorrow," Sam said. She almost meant it, too. This shirt, a dark grey t-shirt covered in bat-shaped lace, was one of her favourites.

The threat managed to pull a stronger laugh out of Danny. It was watery, but bright, and his lips twitched into a smile as he rubbed his eyes again.

"Are you.... are you okay?" Sam asked.

"No," Danny said. "But, I'm not bad either."

They sat back down, hip-to-hip, shoulder-to-shoulder, and looked up at the stars together. Sam squinted, trying to pick out more constellations, but she didn't have Danny's skill for it. Even after him pointing them out to her time and again, she always forgot where they were. Already, she had lost track of Orion's belt. But that was okay. She liked it better when Danny showed them to her.

"Oh, damn," Sam said, suddenly remembering something from freshman year.

"What?"

"I just realized. It's a good thing I don't have a crush on you anymore, you're way too young for me."

"You had a crush on me?" Danny asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips.

Sam blushed. "Oh, shut up. You're my best friend, okay? I thought I like liked you."

Danny tipped his head back and laughed. "Would you believe it if I said I had a crush on you to?"

"No way." Sam gaped at him. "Seriously? Tucker and I always joked that you were clueless because you couldn't tell I like you. Was I clueless too?"

"Tucker knew?" Danny's voice rose to a shriek.

Sam burst out laughing. "Oh my god! That was adorable!" She clutched her stomach and fell over onto her side, shoulders shaking. "I can't­– oh my god– please."

Danny scowled down at her, crossing his arms and pouting. It sent her into a whole new fit of laughter, until her lungs ached, and her flushed cheeks felt too hot. Fanning her face, she pushed herself back up and struggled to get her breathing under control.

"Okay. Okay, I'm done. I swear," she said. A final giggle slipped out.

"Asshole," Danny muttered.

"Asshole that you had a crush on," Sam said. "I can't believe I missed my chance to date the Danny Phantom."

"Damn, and I could have dated Casper High's queen goth. Too bad I don't date older women."

Sam snorted. She looked back up to the stars, feeling a sharp pang in her chest. "Sorry you can't be an astronaut, though."

"Hey, maybe they need a scrawny teenager out in space, you never know," Danny said, grinning wryly. He picked at the grass, sprinkling it over Sam's leggings, just like they used to do when they were kids. With Danny's baby face, he still looked like a kid, but Sam knew he had been through so much more than anyone they ever know.

"But I think... I think I'm okay with that," Danny continued after a moment. "I can fly, and I've even been to space before. Without a helmet! How many people can do that? Besides, I'm years ahead of NASA?"

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?" Sam asked, brushing the grass off her knee.

"I've already perfected suspended animation," Danny answered. He wiggled his eyebrows and knocked his foot against hers.

It took Sam a couple seconds to get what he meant, but when she did, she groaned. "That was so bad."

"It was comedy gold."

"I'm ending this friendship."

"You wish. You're stuck with my forever. Everybody is, apparently."

Sam's expression turned somber. "Danny, I hope you know, we'll always be here for you. Even when we're gone. We might not become ghosts, but we love you. We're with you."

Danny looked away. For a second, Sam thought he was going to have another panic attack. But when he looked back at her, he was smiling. It was soft, and sad. If Sam could only use one word to describe it, it would be resigned. It was the smile of someone who knew what the future held for them and would face it head on, even if they weren't ready for it.

"I know," he said.

Danny was right before, Sam thought. It wasn't okay, but it wasn't bad, either.

[nokomiss]

I'd love to see G - a fistfight with best girl Steph, please, if you're still doing your fic thing.

Hope you enjoy this, @shauds02! Sorry it took so long. ♥

*

If you do something often enough, it becomes habit.

Sometimes, that’s unfortunate. Super unfortunate. Like, for example, if you’re sitting there with your college study group, struggling your way through the week’s assignments (well, Steph’s struggling, everyone else is acting like it’s fine, though none of them had fought Firefly until 4am the previous night, but that wasn’t exactly something she could advertise) and a supervillain bursts into the library.

Jordanna shrieked and ducked under the table, Francisco held up his binder like a shield, and Steph leapt to her feet, rocked back on her heels, and punched the Riddler square in the nose.

“What the fuck,” he said, words garbled as he held his hand over his now-bleeding nose. “You broke my nose.”

“Move, you’re bleeding on my textbook,” Steph said, trying to shoulder him away from her books but not before they’re splattered with Riddler blood. Probably she should burn them now, no matter how much they’d cost her. Maybe Bruce would fund new ones. 

She distantly realized that her study group was staring at her. Most of the library was staring at her. Even in Gotham, the normal designated response to an A-list supervillain wasn’t to break their nose and then bitch about the mess.

“You little--” Riddler started to point at her, then stopped. “Wait, I know you.”

“No you don’t,” Steph says quickly. She could feel Jordanna and Francisco’s eyes on her and resolutely did not look in their direction.

“No, I definitely do,” Riddler said. He squinted at her, one hand still cupped around his nose. Steph probably could have gone easier on that punch, given how he hadn’t seen it coming at all, but old habits and all that. 

“Aren’t you meant to be doing crime or something?” she said, hoping to derail him. Babs was on campus today, and no doubt had already sent out the alert. Encouraging the Riddler to go back to crime was totally not that bad, since there was no doubt a superhero on their way.

Because this is not how she wanted her secret identity to be revealed to the world. How did the Riddler even recognize her as Batgirl, anyhow? She hadn’t had any encounters with him in the suit-- maybe he was going to tell everyone she was Spoiler? She could maybe play that off as a thing of the past, that she’d left it all behind…

Ugh. She grimaced, bracing herself for her world to come crashing down.

“Stephanie!” the Riddler said loudly, pointing at her with the hand that wasn’t cupping his nose. “Cluemaster’s girl! I stayed at his house a few years back and you were a real brat about it.”

Steph blinked. 

“I was not a brat, I was totally justified in not wanting to share my bathroom with your gross henchwomen,” Steph replied back heatedly. “They got what they deserved.”

“I had to pay them hazard pay because a goddamn teenager kept hiding the toilet paper, putting hard candies in the showerhead and filling their shoes with jell-o,” Riddler said.  “Do you know how embarrassing that is to explain to your accountant? Huh? Do you?”

“Do I look like I have an accountant?” Steph pointed out. “And maybe you should have used that money to get yourself a lair instead of squatting in my house and then bitching about the treatment.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes at her. Steph narrowed hers back.

Then he tossed his head back and laughed. “Yeah, your dad always said you were a handful. Laughed when I told him what you were doing. Bastard.”

“He is,” Steph said, nodding, always happy to talk shit about her dad.

He looked around, at the cowered students, and the work spread out on the table. “You’re not following in his footsteps, right? Actually gonna make something of yourself?

“I was trying until some dumbass supervillain interrupted my study session,” Steph said. 

“Touche,” said Riddler, and sighed. “This idea’s toast now, anyway. Can’t make a good speech for the hostages looking like this.”

“You technically haven’t done any crime yet,” Steph agreed. “You could just stroll out. Start fresh.”

They’d had a few snacks from the food cart outside before starting the study session, and she grabbed a few napkins left over from that off the table and handed them to Riddler. 

He accepted and used them to mop up the blood around his nose. “Fair point. Next time you talk to your dad, tell him we’re even.”

“Bold of you to assume I talk to him, but okay,” Steph said, and waved a little as the Riddler motioned for his henchmen -- not the ones Steph had pranked, thankfully, henchperson turnover was a real problem in Gotham -- to follow him out of the library.  She wondered briefly what her father could have done for the Riddler to owe him, then decided she didn’t actually care.

Silence filled the room after he left, and Steph sat down in her chair, staring at her ruined textbook and avoiding her friends’ stare.

“Okay, I’ll be the one to say it,” Jordanna said. “What the fuck was that?”

“Uh,” Steph said, “nothing important? Do you have the answer to number fourteen yet?”

“Oh no,” Francisco said, leaning forward on his elbows and staring her down. “You are absolutely telling us how you know the freaking Riddler.”

“He was work buddies with my dad?” Steph said. “So like, number fourteen. I’m thinking it’s C, because--”

“So when you found out about my dad, you never felt like you should mention that yours was a supervillain.”

“To be totally fair he’s a shitty one?” Steph said. “And he’s in Blackgate and I hope he stays there forever, so. Not really comparable to your family, who you actually talk to.”

“This explains so much,” Jordanna said thoughtfully. “You’re such a weirdo, and the fact that you think punching the Riddler in the nose is a valid response to a hostage situation is so much more understandable now that I know that you grew up in it. You know, I bet I could do a really interesting psychological study on the effects that growing up with a supervillain has on appropriate stress responses.”

“Absolutely not, no,” Steph said. She refused to answer any more questions, and hoped that the topic would drop.

*

The topic most decided did not drop.

Steph had been living a blissfully nondescript college life. She hadn’t even realized how blissful it was until suddenly everyone knew that she was the daughter of a supervillain.  Like, she’d dealt with this shit enough in elementary school, she thought that by college it would be no big deal. But the thing about college is that it’s made up of people from all over, even at a place like Gotham University, and apparently supervillains were still a noteworthy thing for a lot of people.

Steph finds this out in class.

She’s sitting there, awake, taking notes, minding her own business when the person behind her taps her on the shoulder.  She turns, and the girl whispers, “Is it true you beat up the Riddler?”

“Of course not,” Steph said reflexively. “Or, I guess. The library thing? I, like, barely broke his nose.”

She turned back, ready to listen to her professor, only to find that apparently he’d been listening to her. She stammered out an apology, and he waved it away. “I think we all would like to hear a firsthand account of what happened there,” he said instead, eyes alight. 

“Uh, what?” Steph said, entirely unused to being asked about fighting supervillains.  She realized everyone was looking at her in a way -- well, she’d seen it before, but typically she was wearing a Bat on her chest when it happened.

It wasn’t a very dramatic story, though Steph added a little pizzazz to it so she didn’t disappoint anyone. Afterwards the lecture went on as usual, though she noticed she kept getting looks.

She got invited to three different parties on her way out of class, and fled to Babs’ office. She was actually in, though she gave Steph an annoyed look before returning her attention to her computer screen. 

Steph waited as patiently as she could until Babs sighed, took her hands off the keyboard and said, “You wanted something?”

“So my identity’s blown,” Steph said, flopping into the chair across from Babs. 

This got an immediate reaction. “Batgirl? Who all knows? We need to--”

“Not Batgirl,” Steph interrupted, before Babs started launching some sort of secret identity fail protocol. “The Riddler talked about recognizing me, and now everyone knows about my dad.”

Babs blinked. “I didn’t realize that wasn’t public knowledge.”

“The fact that Arthur Brown is the Cluemaster is something you can easily google,” Steph said, “but not that I’m his daughter. Brown’s not exactly an unusual last name. And people are being weird about it since I broke the Riddler’s nose in front of the whole library.”

“You don’t think that maybe the weirdness has to do more with your actions than your dad’s?” Babs said, with that eyebrow raise that Steph hated so much. 

“I will admit to it being a factor but let’s be real, I’ve done weird shit before and no one invited me to parties over it.” Steph leaned back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Of all the damn things to finally make me cool in the eyes of my peers.”

Babs was definitely laughing at her.

*

It was weird, no doubt, but Steph actually was kind of enjoying the attention. Sure, it made dashing off on Batgirl business a little more difficult -- she actually had to tell one group of people, who were wanting to hear what it was like to live with supervillains firsthand that she had ‘urgent supervillain business’ to attend to in order to escape, and while it wasn’t an actual lie, it definitely made her feel kinda gross -- but overall? Suddenly getting the respect and admiration of her peers, and seemingly a lot of it having to do with her own badass actions? Pretty great.  Total confidence booster. 

 Especially since with the other Bats, her own supervillain ties were embarrassing, given that the others who had been born into supervillainy were related to the A-list. The Cluemaster was laughable when compared to David Cain, Lady Shiva and the al Ghuls. 

So she laughed and demonstrated her left hook and did a few impromptu lessons showing girls how to get more power behind their punches, which was a definite public service for college girls in Gotham.  She avoided actually talking about her dad or glorifying his actions, since she still hated his guts, and the vagueness of her answers on that topic only served to add more mystique to her growing legend.

Then it happened.

She was sitting in the commons with some of her new buddies, eating some nachos that had been gifted to her, when the girl beside her -- Frankie, that’s what Steph was pretty sure her name was -- sighed dreamily and said, “He’s just so hot, you know?”

“Who?” Steph said through a mouthful of tortilla chips and queso.

“Cluemaster.”  Frankie flipped open her notebook, and wow. Wow. She’d drawn a picture of Steph’s dad.  He was shirtless and had his hair fluttering over his shoulder like he was on the cover of a romance novel. Steph distantly noted that the art itself showed a lot of talent and effort, but most of her mind was occupied by the sound of the Kill BIll sirens echoing louder and louder.

“Right?” another girl -- Kala -- sighed. The guy next to her -- Miles -- nodded in agreement.

“What,” Steph managed to say.

“Like, you know how most of Gotham’s male villains are really gross-looking?” Kala continued, “which is totally unfair, given how fucking hot all the lady villains are.”

“Seriously,” Frankie said. “I mean, I enjoy looking at Ivy as much as the next person, but no one wants to check out Killer Croc or Two-Face, you know?”

“Well, Two-Face is at least half-hot,” pointed out Miles. “But the other half is a definite dealbreaker. But your dad, on the other hand…”

“No deformities, great hair, hot bod,” Frankie said. She smiled at Steph. “You’re so lucky.”

“I… what?” Steph struggled to find words. “Not really the word I would have chosen?”

Kala leaned in on her elbows. “He’s in Blackgate, right? Do they monitor his mail?”

“Do they--” Steph blinked rapidly. “You are not allowed to write dirty letters to my dad.”

They all laughed merrily, like she’d made a funny joke. Steph put down the plate of nachos and said, “That’s gross. He’s a terrible person! And in prison! And he’s married!”

She left off the fact that her parents’ marriage, at this point, was more a forgotten legality than a relationship. She stood up, brushing the crumbs off her lap and saying, “I’m gonna go now.”

She fled.

*

This time she didn’t wait for Babs to finish with her work when she burst into her office. “Babs! My life is a living nightmare!”

Babs gestured for her to be quiet, but Steph couldn’t hold in the horror of her discovery. “My new friends just wanted to be around me because they wanted to bone my dad.”

A choking sound from Babs’ computer, and Steph hurried around the desk to find that Babs was in the midst of a video call with Dick.  He looked entirely too amused.

“Are you sure?” Babs said doubtfully.

“One girl showed me her gross horny drawing of him,” Steph said. “I’m sure. They asked if Blackgate monitors his mail.”

Babs bit her lip, clearly holding in laughter. Dick didn’t bother with dignity and was full-on laughing at her.  

“This is a nightmare.” Steph clunked her head down on Babs’ desk, then had a thought. “Dick, how do you shut this kind of shit down?”

“Huh?” Dick said. 

“Like, with your buddies, how did you shut them down when they realized your dad was a hottie?”

Steph found that her own misery was somewhat lessened by the appalled look on Dick’s face.

“I mean,” she quickly clarified, so that no gross rumors got started, “I personally don’t find him bangable, you know, but clearly a lot of people do. He was voted People’s Sexiest Man Alive three times.”

“You’re very well-informed on the subject,” Dick managed, still making a face like he’d just tasted a lemon. Steph wondered if she’d been making that face at those awful Cluemaster fangirls. She hoped so.

“For his birthday this year I gave him a mug printed with the covers,” Steph explained with a shrug. “I think he took it to the Watchtower.”

Dick’s face went on another journey through a variety of emotions, then he said, “Babs, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” she said, waving her fingers cheerfully as he hung up. 

Steph sighed. “That wasn’t very helpful.”

“You certainly enjoyed it, though,” Babs said, words tinged with laughter. 

Steph couldn’t even deny it. Misery loved company.

*

Steph took to avoiding as many of her classmates as she could. She no longer trusted them. She went to class, hunched down in the back row like she thought she was famous, hoodie up and giant sunglasses on the second she left the building. 

The only ones she trusted to eat lunch with were Jordanna and Francisco, who tolerated her presence.  The revelation that her dad was a supervillain and that she was willing to punch supervillains in the nose hadn’t been enough to change their opinions of her, which she was grateful for.

She was listening to Jordanna give a detailed rant about the reasons her new roommate was a nightmare when Jordanna went quiet.

Steph realized someone was approaching, and she glanced up to see Tim sit down on the bench beside her.  She blinked at him.  “What are you doing here?” she asked, confused.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Tim said with a shrug, and opened up a takeout container. “Thought I’d have lunch with you.”

Francisco and Jordanna were staring again, Steph noticed. She glared at Tim, who calmly started unwrapping his gyro. “You could have asked.”

“You always tell me to leave you alone at school,” Tim replied easily. “I brought you some baklava, though.” He pushed the container towards her.

Steph accepted the baklava, but not the explanation. “Yeah, because aren’t you supposed to be at work.”

At Wayne Enterprises. She was ninety percent sure that Francisco and Jordanna totally recognized him.

“Meeting got cancelled,” Tim said cheerfully. 

“Timothy,” Steph said, putting all of her angst into his name, dragging it out.

“You are Tim Drake-Wayne,” Jordanna said. She turned to Steph with narrowed eyes. “Why do you know one of the Waynes?”

“Good question,” Francisco said.”I mean, first the Riddler, now a Wayne? It’s like we don’t even know you.”

“We dated in high school,” Steph said, because the truth was always the best lie.  

“And now we’re best friends,” Tim confirmed. “She’s basically part of the family.”

Steph looked briefly heavenward. This was not happening.

Jordanna looked between them. “How did you meet? I mean, a supervillain’s daughter and a billionaire’s son?”

“It was before he was a Wayne,” Steph said quickly.

“Because of the supervillain thing,” Tim said.  Steph glared, but he continued on. “My real dad was murdered by one, you see, and Steph here wrote me a really nice sympathy card. We bonded.”

“How sweet,” Francisco said.

“Yeah,” Steph said, “so sweet.”

Lunch continued on, and by the end of it Steph realized that there was no way that Francisco and Jordanna were going to let the knowledge that she had an in with the Wayne family die.  When Tim offered to walk her to class, she accepted, and hissed into his ear, “What the fuck, Tim?”

“Dick told me about your problem,” Tim said cheerfully, waving at a few people as they passed. “We thought that you needed to distract from the issue at hand.”

“By showing everyone I’m even weirder than they thought? Ugh,” Steph said, clunking her head against his shoulder. “Tim, my friend, light of my life, how are you so smart and so very dumb at the same time?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said cheerfully.

“See, if you’d gone to college, you would, you high school dropout,” Steph grumbled.

“You didn’t finish high school either,” Tim pointed out.

“Yeah, but I got a GED and continued my education, so suck it.”

*

Steph found herself in the center of so many rumors after that. She understood what Dick and Tim had been thinking, but god, boys were such morons.

“True enough,” Babs agreed when Steph came in exclaiming that. Steph angsting in Babs’ office was becoming quite the habit.

“So now I’m the girl with the supervillain dad who is cozying up to the Waynes,” Steph said. “I heard a conspiracy theory that I’m trying to marry Tim and steal the Wayne fortune to disperse amongst the Gotham rogues.”

Babs snickered. Steph was beginning to think that her visits were the highlight of Babs’ workweek. 

“I’m thinking about faking my death,” Steph said conversationally. “Then starting fresh with a completely new identity. That’s how I fucked it up last time, I went back to the old one. New me is the only way to go. Thinking about naming myself Esmerelda. Or maybe Jane. No one would notice a Jane.”

“Faking your death is not the way out of every problem,” Babs said. 

“I mean, you say that, but are you sure?” Steph said. “Pretty sure I’m the resident expert on the topic here.”

“Rumors are only interesting for a little while,” Babs said calmly. “Just hold out a week or so, everyone will forget about this.”

Steph sighed. “I miss the good ole days when my biggest woes were finding out people were horny for my loser dad.”

“That was yesterday,” Babs said.

Steph wondered if Babs would fail her if she flipped her off.

*

The best and worst part about Barbara Gordon was that she was always right.

Steph suffered through the next week, but sure enough, the rumors swirling around her began to die down. She began her (thankful) transition into just another college student, instead of That Girl.

She no longer got free nachos, but she also no longer had to hear anyone talking about how hot her dad was, so that was an absolutely fair trade-off. Her connection to the Waynes was largely forgotten, her college friends just started talking to her about ping-pong tournaments and answering her questions about readings she didn’t get done.  It was great.

Then a giant alien worm crash-landed in the center of campus, followed quickly by Supergirl. She wrestled the worm, taking out the math building in the process, and once the worm had been subdued, she spotted Steph.

“Hi, Steph, wanna go get ice cream?” she said cheerfully, seeming to completely forget that she was both still in her Supergirl costume and also covered in alien worm goo.

Jordanna and Francisco both slowly turned and looked at Steph, who had absolutely no idea how to explain that one.

Might as well lean into it. She shrugged at them and called back, “Sure!” to Supergirl.

Let the rumors fly.