#or i hope they used a slightly older build

[tan1shere]

I HAVE A..A FUN LITTLE IDEA!

what if sugar mommy billie x sugarbaby reader and like billie loves buying things for reader and loves just buying stuff for her and reader is kinda a bimbo but the public thinks they are polar opposite best friends. not knowing that same night reader put lingerie on that billie bought for her and billie tear it off to eat her out then later fuck her (with strap)

crazy big brain moment when thinking about if i should be a sugar baby or not

A Little Secret

Sugar mommy Billie Eilish x sugar baby fem reader !

A/n: duhrrr omg I adore this, and GURL you're so very real for that last statement 😫 I really hope I did a good job !!!! And that you like it 😊

Summary: it was all top secret what you and billie truly were. Definitely not just friends.

Warnings: Slight age difference ? (B30,R21) fingerings, eating out, let me know if i missed anything !!

Masterlist

You could come out and just say that the two of you are dating. But people would soon realize there was something more going on. So. You both had to keep it as secret as possible. Not to mention how obvious the age gap was.

And you managed to, it was especially hard when you wanted to post and flaunt all the pretty gifts she'd get you. All you wanted to do was show how thankful you were of her. You wanted to show her off even if the situation wasn't as normal so you two see it. But you both didn't care, you were insanely happy.

One day you were getting ready to go out to the mall. You open your car door to be met with some roses and a prezzie. With a note from Billie saying.

"I wanna be the reason you slightly tilt your phone away from others when you read it" - Have a good day sweet angel ;)

That was a constant thing she'd do, leaving gifts for you, especially with a cheeky note.

"Hey Bub, look what I got." She says with the widest grin. "Whatcha get." You say sitting up from the couch. She had a black handbag in hand, it was beautiful. She turns it around, smirking as your eyes gleam at the designer symbol. You look at her, looking at that sexy smirk of hers, her eyes. You quite literally pounce at her, kissing her lips. "This is gorgeous Bill!" You beamed as you go to grab it, looking at it. The compartments.

"Exactly like you baby." You blush ever so slightly, as you keep looking at it. You were truly mesmerized. "You can use it for our date night tomorrow." She then says leaning on the couch. "Where are we going!?" You had so much enthusiasm she adored it. It made her feel truly happy. "It's a surprise my love." You sit there and think for a moment. "Alright, but I know wherever it is I'll love it." She smiles more. "I know you will."

Tonight was the night, you were currently in the bathroom lining your lips before you put the soft red lipstick on. She comes up behind you, kissing your neck. "You look so good. Smell great too." You giggle as her breath tickles your skin. "So do you!" She soon looks at you through the mirror. "Kinda don't even want to go for food now, I mean. You look pretty tasty." She bites your neck, causing another giggle to rumble from you. "Bill." - "You'll be calling me something completely different by the time I'm done with you."

A blush spreads widely across your cheeks, even more considering the slight blush you already wore. She then turns you around once your lipstick was applied. Grabbing your hand gently and kissing it. "Howd I get so lucky. Daym." You kiss her cheek. "I'm so grateful for you." You say sweetly. "Ready?" You nod as she takes your hand in hers again, taking you to the car.

The place she took you to was beautiful, the building was dimly lit. Only source of light was coming from a few on the ceiling, and the tall, skinny candles on the tables. You and Billie sit down, tucking your feet under the red velvet table cloth. Billie would always make sure the places she took you to were secluded. Just in case any eyes saw. Of course it could've been just two friends. But with the way you two were both dressed, a blind man would spot that from a mile away.

The evening was great, everything so still, calm and quiet. Soaking up the luxury of the building and the atmosphere. When you were both ready to go she grabs your hand leading you out to the car, like always she opens the door for you. Letting you get in before it closes, and she's making her way to the driver's side.

The ride is peaceful you had the window rolled down enjoy the slight breeze. You then get the idea to stick your head out, maneuvering your body out of the seat belt, having your back slightly out of the car. Having it rest there. Your hands grip the upper part of the car, leaning your head back as the wind blows through your hair. But as you got into the position you're in currently. You were unaware of the fact your dress had ridden up ever so slightly. Giving Billie the most perfect view of your black lace underwear.

Specifically the ones she bought you just recently. You hadn't worn them yet so it cones as a surprise to her eyes. She had to stay focused on driving but God how it hugged your pussy so delicately. She couldn't tear her eyes away. She eventually did, knowing you guys were almost home. The things this woman was about to do. She truly wasn't kidding earlier on.

That's exactly how you ended up here, sprawled on the black fuzzy sheets. The softness of the fabric against you skin only adding to Billies actions. Which currently was teasing. Your whine was heard for maybe the 5th time now. But she needed to savor this. Your taste your scent. Her face was right infront of your cunt, having her nose bump your clit purposefully. Sending you absolutely mental.

"Billie-" Your whiney voice echoed throughout her ears, her mind. Her soul. And all movement stops. Her eyes look straight up at you warningly. Your breath only gets caught in your throat, knowing where you fucked up. But too fucked out to correct. Her figure was still as anything, awaiting the propper words. Until you're whining again. Her head just shakes.

"That's no way to talk to me sweetheart." Her finger taps your thigh gently. "Do you not want this?" She knew damn well you did, but she needed you to say the word, needed you to address her properly.

"What do you call me baby. Go on, be good."

A small whimper is heard. Her finger slowly coming in line with your entrance making you snap out of your dazed state.

"Mommy."

"Louder." Her finger slides into you.

"Mommy!" You screech slightly, having your mouth hang open.

"Good. Girl."

She notices your reaction as she kisses around your pussy. "Don't forget to breathe." She whispers sexily, so slow with her words too. Her own breath fanning against the skin of your swollen cunt.

And that's all it took, for her fingers to move so insanely fast inside you. Her mouth coming to suck on your pussy lips, biting just a tiny bit. Your head flew back again, eventually feeling her soft hands move up your torso, so slowly, every action. Reaching a breast and squeezing. Your head starts to spin, her movements rapid.

Everything was happening in the speed of light as your orgasm approaches quick. Sending your head right back into the pillows as her tongue relentlessly moves against your clit. "Mommy, please let me cum.. please." Your breath was nothing but short finding any thought in your brain to be dead. She hums against you the vibrations not helping with the fact you had to hold on, until she grants you that permission you so helplessly need. "Mommy!" You scream out. "Cum." She growls against you.

Billie was so caught up in it she actually hadn't heard your voice asking. Her hands were gripped tightly around your thighs most definitely creating a mark. The way you smelt was like a drug, addictive. And the taste she could already feel on the tip of her tongue. "Need more." She then moans into you, desperate to taste you properly. You hadn't even overcome the last euphoric feeling.

When you feel her tongue stick deep inside you. Your eyes roll all the way back at this new feeling, her tongue was so warm and wet. Mixing with your previous orgasm. The way you tasted makes her own eyes roll back. If anything she was enjoying this more than you. Not to say you weren't, wriggling with pleasure underneath her. "T-too m-uhg!" A moan gets caught along your words as her finger move to spread your folds open, wide. Her tongue moving in and out of you faster. You were so loose currently and she was adoring it.

Loving how easily her tongue was slipping in. Your hole feeling stretched around her tongue. You begin to shake as the second one is coming, her nose bumping your clit as she moves. Making your brain fuzz over with pure pleasure. You gush into her mouth having her drink you like a thirsty dog, your body giving out in the process. She could care less that you didn't ask. Cuz like an addict she's not stopping tonight. Or ever.

She was going to drink you dry.

[kwyoz]

why are people surprised the combat is different, istg we were TOLD that before the gameplay trailer lol.

also people are STILL complaining about the art style and people that decided they wont like the game no matter what are being so rude to people that do like it.

[awingedllama]

this is a little niche and probably incredibly difficult to try to animate but a cool idea for the nostalgia set specifically in the kitchen is one of those pull out trash cans from the cabinets. We had one in an old house my family lived in, cousins & I would always play in it and hide in it but I was just thinking about older trash can themes while i was using the kitchen set for my current build.

added it to the download folder :)

it uses the tuning for the nano-can, so you'll receive simoleons for your trash

note: sims are able to throw garbage away, and the cabinet will animate, but they won't actually route *to* the trash can first; they just sort of chuck it into the abyss. whenever i try to add constraints to the interaction, the sim can no longer throw away trash, so i've left it as-is for now. trash cans do not like to be edited apparently, and changing any little bit of tuning can make it stop functioning altogether. (if anyone knows how to force sims to route with the trash, please let me know!)

also you'll notice the cupboard is slightly darker than the others. it's using a different shader, because the counter shader prevents the animation from playing. another annoying little thing i'm not sure how to fix

it's far from perfect, but i hope you get some use out of it!

[suskz]

reader x hyunjin based on the last skz code where they went camping - he looked so hot working on that tent 😯💨 - , going with the boys since it was all minho idea, reader doesn't like camping but she likes him so, building tension up bc that's hot too, and maybe he could switch places with reader's bff and sneak into their's tent? 🖤

pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

t/w: friends to lovers ; Hyunjin is a flirt ; fluff ; a little suggestive.

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: it was fun to write! And yeah, Hyunjin really looked hot (I mean, he always is). The way he rolled his sleeves up omg, I couldn’t not write this. Hope you like this, anon!

↳ Reader has with the members the same friendship they have with each other.

"I hate this." Jiwoo complains as she drops the bag she was holding to the ground.

"Come on!" You try to cheer her up, "It's nice to be out in nature sometimes!"

She shoots you a glare, "That's easy to say," she says bitterly, "You hate camping more than I— hey!" she exclaims when you nudge her arm with your elbow, silencing her.

"I love camping." You lie loudly, with the boys just a few meters away from you.

"I can't say the same." Changbin comments, slapping his arm to kill a mosquito.

And suddenly, an arm falls around your shoulders. You turn towards the person who has come up next to you and see Hyunjin, unconsciously shrinking under his close presence, "I agree with Y/nie, a bit of fresh air away from the city is nice."

A small smile forms on your lips.

"You say that because you have no intention to help with anything." Chan chimes in, opening one of the bags he carried.

"Clever of you to assume that." Hyunjin responds, smiling.

"That's why Hyunjin will help set up the tent." Minho states, biting back a smile.

"Huh? I don't know how!" Hyunjin complains, taking his arm off your shoulders and moving closer to the older guy.

You regret that the contact was so short, but you maintain your composure and watch him walk away.

"You'll learn." Minho closes the conversation in a tone that allows no reply.

—

“You need to pump it?” Hyunjin asks, looking for the pump to inflate the tent.

You watch him curiously, seeing him search non-stop for a while.

“Did you find it?” Minho asks him, watching in disbelief. There are only 5 bags, how can he not have found it yet?

He starts to approach him, but you are quicker.

“They have accessories here.” Hyunjin says in a pouty, hopeless voice, closing a bag. He turns to continue searching but almost falls to the ground from the jump he makes when you suddenly stand up in front of him, very, perhaps too, close.

You hand him the pump that you found in a few seconds, “You suck at finding things.”

He puts a hand on his heart, opening his mouth and sighing slowly with closed eyes, as if he has just seen a ghost, “You scared me.”

You roll your eyes at his dramatic behaviour, “Don’t thank me.” You say sarcastically.

He smiles, his front teeth slightly showing behind his slightly parted lips, “Thank you, Y/nie.” He blows you a kiss for show. You are used to this, yet you blush, while he bends down to attach the pump nozzle to the tent opening.

“Do you need help with that too?” you tease, smirking, trying to hide the visible blush coloring your cheeks from yourself, since he can't even see you.

“Huh?!” He stands up and rolls up the sleeves of the baggy t-shirt he’s wearing, showing his muscles, “I don’t need your help, these are enough for me.” He flexes his biceps.

You like them, don’t you? You think he’s cool, right? Hyunjin hopes so.

You chuckle at his words while he gets to work to really show what he’s capable of as you return to Jiwoo, who needs help with setting up your tent.

You don’t even realise you've been distracted watching him the whole time, as his muscles contract with the effort of pushing the pump handle, and soon small drops of sweat start to trickle down them.

Your eyes are fixed on the way his hands roll up the sleeves each time they unroll and on the way he lifts his head and pulls his hair back with one hand when it bothers him too much and prevents him from seeing. It almost seems like he does it on purpose so your eyes never leave him.

But someone's hand rests on your shoulder, waking you up. “He’s really handsome, isn’t he?” Minho smirks and holds back a laugh when you turn to look at him, blushing and trying to stammer out a response, but he stops you right away, “Wipe off all the drool you’ve spilled first.” He chuckles and walks away with your eyes on him, shaking his head slowly, amused.

Just then, you hear the sound of someone falling to the ground, and when you turn, you see Hyunjin sitting from exhaustion. His breathing is heavy, and pained sounds and light groans leave his lips, the heat of the sun making everything worse, while Jisung takes his place to finish inflating.

His friend hands him a black tank top to wear instead of the sweat-soaked shirt he has on, and that's what Hyunjin does.

He takes off the white t-shirt and uses it to wipe off the sweat covering his body. And once again, it seems like he does it to show off so that you watch and can’t take your burning eyes off him, off his body. But deep down, you know it’s not like that, and this thought forces you to immediately look away when his eyes meet yours, amused. It’s a quick contact, it lasts little but says a lot.

And you have to use all the self-control you have in your body not to set your eyes on that tight black fabric that perfectly hugs his body, making his muscles appear more tense and defined.

“That’s better.” he sighs with relief, soon returning to work and starting to add the stakes.

The silence is filled with the sounds of hammers, and you don't notice when he moves away from the group.

When you stand up after finishing setting up the tent, you look around, confused by his absence. “Where's Hyunjin?” you ask Jiwoo, who is taking out lights from a bag to use as decoration.

“He went for a walk over there; there's a river a bit further from here.” She points in a direction with the index finger of her free hand.

“Oh.” you nod in understanding.

Only a few seconds of silence pass before she speaks again, “Go to him, he's alone; I'll take care of decorating the tent.” It's written all over your face, what you want to do. She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes and winks at you instead.

And you don't need to be told twice.

When you arrive at the spot, you search for him with quick, darting glances. “Hyunjin?” you call out before finding him lying on a large rock with his hands on his belly and his eyes closed.

He didn't answer, so you gather that he's sleeping. You slowly approach him, trying not to make any noise, and sit down next to his sleeping body.

You look at his serene face and can almost hear his calm breath and sense the steady beats of his heart.

The place itself is very quiet. It's cozy, isolated from everyone else, and intimate.

You glance around a couple of times with furtive eyes, but you end up realising that you're alone. Then you look at him, his slightly parted inviting plump lips. You bring your face close to his almost instinctively, faces so close that you can feel his warm breath on your own lips, but then you pull away.

What are you trying to do? It's wrong and stupid. If someone saw you, it would be a mess.

And if you had done it, he would have noticed, because he's awake.

Your ears burn, your cheeks flushed with shame and guilt when his eyes open.

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, looking at you with distant irises, wrapped in thoughts, then he sits up, raising his torso.

"I heard you calling me but I didn't feel like answering.” he tries to smile to tease you, but what comes out is more of a grimace. You pretend not to notice though, lying to him as well as to yourself.

"I knew it, that's why I've been sitting in silence." You smirk, trying to push away the shame and alleviate the strange tension that has arisen.

However, the situation changes so quickly. There is still tension between the two of you, but it is different with his hand holding your chin and his thumb slowly, intensely stroking your lower lip. Intense, too, is the look his burning eyes give to your rosy lips.

When your eyes meet, his movements stop, and it’s difficult for you to tell what he is thinking. The eyes are the reflection of the soul, he likes to say, but at the moment his do not reflect much.

And then, he pulls away from you. His gaze, his hand, a moment later are no longer on you.

He stands up, "You had something on your lips." He looks around, normal, apparently enjoying the scenery.

You touch your lips, embarrassed, "Oh."

He looks at you and chuckles softly, sitting back next to you with a now more serene air.

One of his arms rests on your shoulder in a friendly gesture, trying to get as close to you as possible.

"I like this place, it's quiet and relaxing," he says. "I want to paint it."

"Hey lovebirds!" You hear someone say from just a bit further away from you. You immediately recognize it's Jisung's voice, who has joined you. "Get a room."

Hyunjin chuckles, and you try to do the same, but your mind is clouded by the memory of his gesture.

The fact that he didn't stop you when you tried to get closer to his lips, the way he touched yours with his thumb.

These images still flash in your mind while everyone else sleeps. You touch your lips with two fingers almost unconsciously, smiling sadly.

But apparently, you're not the only one lost in thought, as the entrance to the tent is opened and the little lamp in between you and Jiwoo is turned on. The latter gets up and leaves, letting someone else in.

And how could you not recognize that head of dark hair making its way inside, closing the entrance zipper after murmuring a 'thank you' and receiving a nod in response.

"Hyunjin? What are you doing here? It's late." you ask him, but receive no answer.

You receive no answer because instead, his lips crash against yours in a needy gesture.

Your eyes widen at the sudden gesture, but you don't push him away, not even when his lips start moving on yours shortly after. Instead, you reciprocate.

It's desperate. Your movements aren't even in sync, but it's okay. It's perfect like this; you couldn't ask for anything better.

One of his hands rests above your ear, caressing it so delicately that you barely even notice, as if you’re made of porcelain.

You break the kiss with quick breaths and uncontrollable heartbeats, emotions finally laid bare.

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long." he admits in a whisper, looking into your eyes.

You find the strength to speak, albeit lightly, "Today by the river… I didn't just watch you." You admit, and you can't help the hint of embarrassment you feel in saying those words to him.

"I know, and I hoped so much that you'd do what you were about to do, but you stopped." His smile doesn't falter for a moment. "You didn't have anything on your lip; I just used it as an excuse to touch you. I actually wanted to kiss you, but when I looked into your eyes, I didn't have the courage." He confesses.

"And here you are now." You chuckle.

He huffs a chuckle, "It wouldn't have been like this if you hadn't tried to kiss me first."

“Now I wish I hadn’t stopped earlier today, by the river.” you say, lowering your eyes to his lips and then back to his, licking your own lips. “I’ve always thought you have nice lips and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, you know?”

“Now you know,” he says happily. “Or do you need to explore a little more?”

You don’t even need to answer; he already knows the response. And once again, your lips are on each other’s, in a kiss that quickly becomes fast and hungry.

Your hands roam over each other’s bodies, fingers tangled in hair, hands gripping cheeks, hips, ending up on thighs.

Your breaths are fast, and the tent heats up. You’re so lost in each other that you don’t realise you’re not being very quiet anymore.

It’s Changbin’s voice that wakes you up and makes you pull away. “Could you guys keep it down a bit?” he shouts from a couple of tents away from yours.

“If you two don’t let me sleep or wake me up at any hour of the night, I’ll put you in the air fryer.” Minho’s voice intervenes right after, annoyed.

You and Hyunjin lock eyes and then laugh silently.

“At least we’ll be put together.”

[eddiernunson]

Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington!Fem!Reader | 18+

Next part

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You're home for the weekend, which so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve's daughter), multichapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, no use of y/n, use of marijuana, perv!Eddie

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve's freckles. No skin colour, body shape/type

Word count: 5.3k

P2 Will Be Up Next Thursday and every Thursday from then on!

The sounds of the morning Saturday cartoons fill the living room, background noise as you scroll through your phone while slowly working your way through your bowl of cereal. Droplets of milk occasionally drip onto your lap, landing on your bare thigh as the videos you scroll through don’t seem to compute. 

For the thousandth time you spill milk on your lap, you huff out of annoyance as you wipe it off with the edge of your sweaters sleeve. Maybe scrolling through your phone and eating something with liquids wasn’t a good idea for someone as klutzy as you.

From the kitchen, your dad walks out as he uses a T-towel to dry his hands. “You listening, sunshine?”

”Huh?” You blurt out, the video you were half paying attention to still playing. 

He breaks into a smile, shaking his head as he tosses the towel over his shoulder. “Guess not. You have any plans this weekend?” 

You shake your head, wiping your mouth of the excess milk of this bite when you had scooped too big of a bite. “Naomi is working for the summer and Marley got stuck watching her little brother all weekend.” 

Coming home to see your dad for the week is nice, granted it would probably be nicer if you could see either of your 2 friends. You’d have to settle for Steve being extra doting on you, given you’re only one of four of his kids in the house for the moment. What you would give to have your snot mouth brother in town just for two seconds to make the extra big house just a little bit smaller.

He nods, rubbing his hands together. You can see the slight hesitation in his eyes, watching the cartoon as if he had forgotten the conversation which he had started. 

“Dad?” His brown eyes switch to you, smirking at your expectant face. 

“Right. I was hoping you’d be out of the house a bit more,” he sighed, popping his knuckles anxiously. ”I have an old friend that will be staying with us for the weekend. I thought if you were out of the house it might make things slightly less awkward.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, curious as to what he might mean. You’ve gotten to know any old friend of his that might be expected to stay for the night, ducking their many attempts to ruffle your hair over the years. The only person you’d let do it ended up being Robin, as she is the coolest person you’ve ever met. 

“Why would it be awkward?” The question has a sarcastic bite to it, garbled by the cereal in your mouth. 

He sighs, placing a hand in his brown locks, ruffling them as he tucks his lips in. “Well, because it’s one of the friends you’ve never met.” 

There’s a few of them, having never made their return to Hawkins, you never had a chance to meet them. A few names from the stories your dad has told you over the years flicker through your mind, one name in particular standing out from the rest. 

Well, it's the only name that pops through your head.

His likeness on Late Nite TV interviews charming the audience, his solid tenor voice playing on the speakers during family barbecues, his band’s name plastered on some of the albums in your dad’s collection. 

You’ve heard stories, seen the photos of him and your dad together, but he’s never come around before. 

“Who?” You ask, your heart palpitating at the very thought of the long haired angel who haunted your dreams making his first in-person appearance. 

“It’s Eddie,” he answers, crossing his arms as his eyes switch back to the tv. “Eddie Munson, that guy in Corroded Coffin I’ve told you stories about?” 

You roll your eyes, fighting the smile that threatens to take over your face. “I know who Eddie is, dad. His name comes up every time his songs are on the family speakers. Given how many stories I know about him, is a lot!” You tease him, satisfied by the quick twist of annoyance across his face.  

“Not like I heard you complaining about those stories,” he chuckles, playfully feigning a throw of his T-towel at you. “He needs to come into town to help his uncle move into a retirement home. Wayne has finally given in, despite needing to be in one for at least a decade,” you blink at him, giving him that same deadpan stare he has given time and time again. He’s taught you well. “Right, so. He will be staying for the weekend.”

You nod, putting down the bowl on the coffee table as the remaining contents are only the milk and soggy cereal. What a nightmare of textures. 

As you lift your phone to unlock it again the day of the week flashes as a reminder. “So, he‘ll be here tomorrow?” 

He hisses, reaching out his hand for said bowl. You pass it to him, the silence would be awkward if it weren’t for how easily it rolls off his shoulders. 

Steve Harrington makes his living off of awkward moments. 

“Short notice I know,” he apologizes, in so many words, “I offered to him a few months ago when he brought it up, and he called the other day looking to cash in on the favor.” 

“And you said I’d be yours for the weekend. You liar!” You accuse, playfully crossing your arms at him. 

Your dad shrugs, walking back into the kitchen. “It seems I have double booked Chez Harrington for the weekend, but it won’t be so bad.” You hear the sound of the bowl being put in the water in the sink. 

You pretend to be annoyed, because it’s what he expects of you. The truth is since you were old enough to find someone hot Eddie Munson has intrigued you. On the occasion you have found yourself staring too long at magazine spreads he has been featured in, letting his sweet tenor voice enwrap you whole as you turn on his music. Sometimes he bares a love bite or two on stage, smacking you in the face with envy. 

This weekend is bound to be torture for you, a vision of a rock god whose body and chisled arms you’ve practically memorized by now up close in person with all those sick and twisted thoughts bouncing around in your head. To him, you will be nothing but a school girl with a crush. 

You’re surprisingly okay with that. 

“Ah, yes, an unruly rockstar coming over for a weekend. I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending,” you sing the last part, smiling cheekily as he scoffs. 

“Taylor Swift references aside, he’s really gotten over his party hard rockstar days,” he insists, “or at least, that’s what he tells me.” 

You nod cynically, narrowing your eyes. “Fine. Not like I can tell you to refuse your friend a place to stay,” you shrug, acting a little too much. Relax, take it easy. You don’t need to overact out an emotion. “We have more than enough rooms.” 

“Well, your sisters don’t like to come home for whatever reason and your brother is gone away at camp for the summer, so, yeah, I guess you can say that,” Steve huffs, crossing his arms back at you. 

“Oh, I thought he’d just stay in the spare bedroom,” you tease, your arms flailing as he pushes you over on the couch in one last retaliation. 

The following afternoon there’s three knocks on the door, announcing the arrival of the person you’ve been waiting for all morning. You might have dressed for the occasion, a flowy summer dress that shows off your tits and just enough of your bikini top to keep him wanting more. 

You’d hoped the shine of your sunscreen on your skin will work in your favor, purposely messy hair and pretty lip gloss will do just the trick. 

You open the door, despite waiting a few seconds for your dad to come down so you didn’t have to, but the guest was impatient, knocking another three times and calling your dad’s name. 

“Alright, alright, coming!” You call out, swinging the door open to a real life legend. 

“Ah! Little Harrington!” He startles, his brown eyes wide, only adding to how comically yet gorgeously frazzled he is. 

But it’s not entirely comforting that the first thing he does when he sees you is jump. 

“Sorry, just thought you lot were gone for the summer,” he chuckles, fidgeting with his rings. Two seconds in and you’re already leering. 

“Decided to crash,” you shrug, stepping back so he might enter. “Not many places I can stay at for free that also have a pool.” 

He barks out a laugh at your attempt at humor, looking around your father’s admittedly sweet diggs. “Jesus,” he swears under his breath, dropping his gym bag on the floor. ”Forgot how big the Harrington house is.”

You laugh under your breath, keeping a comment to yourself. 

A V forms between his brows, having seen the thought cross your mind. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you dismiss, a tight lipped smile slowly spreading across your face. 

“I know a classic Harrington comment when I see one, spit it out,” he smirks, crossing his arms and raising his brows expectantly.

The comment spit it out raises a few images, but bite your tongue and ignore them.  

You raise your brows back, challenging his demand. You almost win, but the need to make a sarcastic remark, the one you inherited from a long line of sarcastic Harringtons, wins. “You’re a rockstar, aren’t you? Don’t you have a big mansion of your own?” 

He scrunches his nose, as if turned off by the idea. “A house, maybe. But a mansion? For one person? That’s excessive.” He moseys back over to the door, bending over the threshold to grab something from out of sight. His guitar. The prized one he wrote the song chopped full of innuendos Tasty Lick about. He carries it by the neck, the red and black pattern even more vibrant and captivating in person. 

You could say the same about him, especially how no photo seems to do him justice. The stubble on his chin is faint, but it’s there, looking ever so scratchable. His hands are rough, calloused from the hours of guitar playing. His forearms reveal a patchwork of black and white tattoos, all wrapped in a gothic theme or horror of some kind. 

You’re still leering at him. You should’ve known this would be a dangerous game. 

“Well what did you do with your riches, then?” You rebuttal as you peer up from under your lashes at a set of chocolate eyes that has your breath catching. 

“A really nice tour bus, good security,” he starts walking towards the kitchen, hands in his jeans pockets as he continues his observation of the surroundings. “As of recently, a damn good retirement home.” 

You smile at that, how charming it is that he’d rather spend his well earned dough on comfort for himself and others. It only adds to the boyish charm that overflows from him. 

“Oh, and a nice little red sports’ car,” he adds, completely nixing your previous thought about him. 

“I can make you something to eat if you want, you probably had a long road trip,” you offer him, leaning forward against the island counter.

Eddie’s eyes study you for a moment, his eyes flickering around your face. As they trail across your eyes, lips, studying your scattered moles you’ve inherited from your father, you nearly retract from his intense gaze.

The moment ends, Eddie leaning back in the barstool as he licks his lips in a quick movement. “No thanks,” his head shakes rapidly, sending a ripple down his wavy locks, “I’m good.” 

You hum, cheekily raising your brow. “Dad’s probably in the shower, which means you might be waiting a while for him to blow dry his hair.” 

Eddie laughs, broad smile wide enough to show those dangerous dimples. “Guess nothing really has changed.” 

You push yourself off the barstool, barking out one short laugh as you walk out the wide double doors to where your setup is. 

It’s best not to hover.

There are a few lounge chairs by the pool, each with its own glass table right next to it. Your phone is waiting for you, a singular AirPod right next to it, the music that was playing through the speaker earlier on pause and waiting for you to return. The hot sun blares on the 4th of July weekend, a chlorine blue water stagnant in the pool, just inviting someone to enjoy its icy depth, a shelter from the blaze. 

Your sandals protect your bare feet from the scorching concrete, the sunglasses that rested on your head are no longer forgotten as the sun sends daggers through your skull. 

You lose yourself in your Hot Girl Summer playlist, humming to an indie pop artist’s upbeat track that sounds like summer while mindlessly reading a magazine. Your dad blocks the sun, effectively announcing his presence after you couldn’t hear him over the music blasting in your ear. 

After you wave up at him with a smile on your face, taking the earbud out when he gestures for you to do so. “What’s up?” 

He tilts his head in a jerk move, his face shifting into a bewildered expression in a blink. “A-when did Eddie get here?” 

“Dunno,” you shrug, looking around him towards the double doors. “Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago?”

His eyes widen, adding to the expression he’s given to you many many times in your adolescence. “And you didn’t think to tell me?” 

You lean back, switching your glance back down to your magazine, oh so coyly. “I figured you were in the shower.” You flip the page to a spread of heartthrobs. Somehow the rockstar has made his way into the mix. “Eddie can wait for fifteen minutes. He’s a big boy.” 

Steve blinks at you, considering this statement with a sour look on his face. “Did you at least offer a drink, something to eat while he was waiting?” 

“Of course I did! He said no. Now go say hi to your buddy,” you gesture back towards the house vaguely, playing closer attention to the glossy pages in your lap. “I’m not the one being rude, anymore.” 

He sighs, turning back around toward the house. The earbud is barely pressed into your ear when he turns back around, his long legs taking him back in quick steps. “This whole display doesn't have anything to do with Eddie visiting, would it?” 

“Display?” You parrot back to him, pushing your sunglasses onto your head. You gesture towards the pool, mirroring that same exasperated look he gave you. “Display? I’m sitting by the pool, like I told you I would. If I wanted a display, I would’ve worn a lot less than the dress I wore when I answered the door.” You pause, indicating to your pink bikini with a flourish. “I would’ve worn a lot less now.”

Steve falls out of his stern father pose, eyes closed as he throws his hands up in surrender. “Aah, okay I get your point.” 

“It’s hot, it’s summer.” You put your sunglasses back on over your eyes, shaking the product soaked hair you worked so hard to make look effortlessly messy. “I’m your daughter, I’m not a display.”

“Right, yeah. Just making sure, sunshine.” He leans in, lowering his voice as if so Eddie can’t hear through the open doors. “I just know you had a crush on him when you were younger. It ain’t happenin’, sweet girl.” 

You pull your head back, your jaw dropping as your dad does what he does best, come up with one more rebuttal just when you thought you’d won the battle. 

He always wins the war. 

It takes a minute for your mind to catch back up to yourself, blinking yourself out of it. “I-what!”

”You weren’t as subtle about it as you thought you were, sunshine!” He calls back, striding back into the house. 

You huff, watching your crystal blue painted toenails twitch as you mull the conversation over in your head. If nothing came of it, then at least Eddie would get to enjoy his view, and you’d enjoy yours. For a moment you wonder if you’re acting pathetic, but you toss your sunglasses and earphone aside, ignoring the glitch in self confidence as you approach the suddenly inviting pool. 

Were the set of eyes you felt on you as you made laps in the pool just wishful thinking?

-

The scraping of the knife against toast fills the kitchen as you slowly spread the strawberry jam, careful not to make more of a mess than you already have. 

“Mornin’’’ you hear behind you, your dad’s shampoo filing your nose as he leans in to plant a  kiss on your cheek. 

“Hi,” you greet him, pausing to ‘clean’ the jam off your thumb. You’re about to ask if he would like some toast when you see his suit on, perfectly tailored with his long hair groomed so specifically you clock it right away. “You’re all dressed up.”

He grins, walking around you to where you had a pot of coffee started. “About that.”

That’s exactly what you figured. “What?”

”Put some toast in for Ed, I’ll tell you both when he comes down,” he instructed, narrowly avoiding your pointedly annoyed stare. 

Your eyes remain on his to make your point, huffing as you place two pieces of bread in, adding more attitude in the action than was probably necessary. Your jaw locks, staring him down as he pours his cup of coffee, chewing on the toast with your arms crossed. 

Although Steve is apologetic, he eventually ignores your glare, wondering how all four of his kids managed to get his same attitude. 

Eventually you grow tired of glaring at someone who’s ignoring you so you sit down, waiting for Eddie to make his appearance as you pout at the kitchen island. 

The smell of his Irish Spring soap hits the kitchen before he does, walking into the kitchen mid yawn and fresh from his shower. Eddie’s shirt clings to his lithe torso like a second skin, showing off just the hint of a tummy with his sweatpants sitting low on his hips. You allow yourself one second to gawk at him and the hairs that peek out of his shirt until you reshift your focus back to your toast, panicking when you notice the jam that has dripped on your hand. Oh, shit again?

“What’s with the fancy get up, dude?” Eddie asks, pouring himself a cup as well.  

“Before we get to that, Sunshine has put some toast in for you.” Steve gestures with his coffee cup.

Eddie’s brows lift, looking just the littlest bit delighted as he turns toward the toaster. “Oh, thanks!” He snaps his fingers into a gun with his thumb and pointer finger, sending a wink your way. You’re mid-‘clean-up’ on your hand, rushing to finish before you nod to acknowledge his thanks. 

“Alright. My partner called,” he means work partner, “he needs help to close this deal. He’s having a really hard time doing it himself.”

”Who did you send?” You ask, knowing a little bit of his work drama. 

Steve hisses, wincing as he says, “Warner.” 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as the toast pops out of the toaster. “Well no wonder!” 

Eddie has been watching this like a tennis match, completely out of the loop but entertained nonetheless. “What, what’s wrong with…Warren?” 

“Warner,” you correct him, cleaning up yet another spill of jam off your thumb. “The guy sucks. Why Warner, why not Tommy?” 

“Wait, why does he suck?” Eddie asks as he spreads butter on his toast, looking way too entertained about this.

“Because he’s a 22-year-old fuckwit that doesn’t know how to close and only got this job because his dad gave it to him when he retired,” you huff, not at all distracted by how Eddie is eating his toast; like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, savoring every bite. His tongue occasionally pokes out to lap at the butter on his lips, his eyes closed as he muffles sounds at the back of his throat. 

He makes eating toast look depraved.

“Sunshine, you’re 22,” Steve squints, lifting his cup towards you accusingly. 

You scoff. “Yeah but I’m not an entitled dickwad who thinks just because his daddy had a job ‘oh, that’s my job one day!’. He has no experience versus his father who was in the game for 25 years.” You’re very passionate about this, more so than you had even anticipated. “Seriously, why him?” 

“He’s the only one who didn’t take the Fourth of July weekend off because he’s a 22 year old fuckwit with no family.” He takes a large sip of his coffee before setting it on the counter. “Well in any case, you are right. He has no experience and we need this account, so I gotta help him out.” 

“When do you think you’ll be back?” Eddie asks, giving you a fresh whiff of his soap when he walks behind you to sit on the other side of the island. 

Steve crosses his arms and leans against the table, mentally preparing himself before he disappoints the two of you, “Not til Sunday.” 

“Shitty,” Eddie sighs sympathetically. 

“Dad I can only take one week off,” you sigh, having only gotten two days with him. “When you get back I’ll only have one more day.” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” He does genuinely sound remorseful. You know he’d stay if he had any other choice, but he doesn’t. 

“You know anyone else in town who could…” Eddie starts, obviously reminding your dad of something he forgot about. 

“Shit. Hmmm.” Steve’s eyes flicker to you, “Sunshine can do it.” 

You pause mid-bite in hearing your nickname. “Sunshine can do what?” 

“I don’t wanna bother her on her vacation.” Eddie states, dismissing Steve’s offer. 

Your dad saved him off, “I’m sure she’d be happy to help.” 

“What am I doing?” You ask more assertively, finally grabbing their attention. 

Eddie finally speaks first, “Oh, I asked your dad to help me pack up my uncles things. It’s a tedious process, I can get—“ 

“No, she’d be happy to help,” Steve offers again, looking at you and jerkily nodding his head towards Eddie. 

You’d be happy to help, you’re just thinking about the amount of time you’ll be alone with Eddie. Your plan was to keep a safe distance from him, allowing a free show in your best summer clothing while enjoying the hot weather. The close quarters your dad is sending you into sounds dangerous, butterflies erupting into your ribcage as you picture the deafening silence surrounding the two of you knee deep in his uncle’s things.   

“I’m happy to help,” you tell him, getting up to put your plate away. 

“I don’t want to force her into—“ 

“My dad can’t force me into doing shit,” you scoff, ignoring your dads own scoff. Now Eddie on the other hand could demand you to bark and you would. Down on the ground, on all fours. “Besides. You two wouldn’t have gotten any actual organization done.” 

“Thanks,” Eddie lifts his mug, giving you a wink. Your neck hair rises, scanning his arched nose and the rebelling stubble already growing in despite having freshly shaved. His aftershave is intoxicating, the sound of a glass mug clinking as it lands on the counter snapping you out of your daze.   

“When are you leaving?” You suddenly remembered your dad’s presence in the kitchen, funny how fast you forgot about him. 

“I should get going within the hour,” he states thoughtfully, grimacing apologetically when you give him sad eyes. You know it's not his fault, but you’re not the adult here, and the disappointment you feel can’t help but twist your features. 

He puts his hands on your shoulders, petting them with his thumbs. “I do feel better knowing I’m not leaving you all alone in this big empty house.” 

You tense up, avoiding his gaze as you attempt to smile. Being left all alone with Eddie in the big empty house is precisely what is worrying you. Your dad’s constant presence alone is the thing that has prevented you from even being tempted into going any further than elongated stares and late night fantasies. 

“I’ve been alone in the house before,” you say, tilting your head. “You’re about to be alone for the rest of the month.” That sentence just makes you feel sad. 

He smirks, shaking his head playfully. “I meant at least if I’m ditching you for work, then at least I’m not leaving you all alone. I was trying to alleviate my own guilt.” 

“I’ve already forgiven you, old man,” you tell him. “Go, rescue those poor investors from Warner’s slippery hands.”

He pulls you in for a hug, his heartbeat familiar as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead. Your head is swung back abruptly as he pushes on your shoulders, leaning in conspiratorially. “Hey, there are worse people to leave you alone than the man that was once on a poster on your wall, hey?” 

That poster was stared down many times, finally taken down when you were about to move away, kept only because of the autograph in the bottom corner.

Regardless, your dad is having too much fun with this. You wonder who would have more fun if Eddie ends up bending you over the couch like you kept envisioning. Said rockstar currently bending over the couch to grab something jolted you back to the present. 

“And who gave me that as a gift after introducing me to his music?” You shoot back, meeting those chocolate brown eyes across the living room. 

“My ears are burning,” Eddie grins, walking around the couch to plug in the amp. 

“Are your keys burning, because I need a ride to the airport.” Steve interjects, smirking at your widened eyes. 

Eddie sits on the couch, one foot resting on the coffee table as he starts playing his guitar absentmindedly. “I am your noble steed at your service, Harrington. Just tell me when.” 

Steve answers with something, probably somewhat sarcastic before climbing the stairs to finish packing. You probably would’ve heard it if it weren’t for how absentmindedly his fingers were moving, individually plucking the strings as his other hand shifts easily to each corresponding chord. 

He is delicate with the instrument, expertly working her and zoned out as the guitar’s gentle tune fills the house. His many years spent playing is evident through how easy he plays the melody, getting lost in the song with his hands working idly. If it weren’t for his eyes being shut for the whole time, you would’ve probably pretended to go on your phone. 

His effortlessness of plucking the strings sends a thrill down your spine, has your thighs squeezing tightly together as your mind starts to picture his fingers expertly working you apart. 

“Ow!” 

Eddie’s yelp snaps you out of it, making you jump as you hurriedly switch your glance back to your phone. He chuckles as he sucks his sore thumb, the very same one the guitar string snapped on. “Sorry, did I scare ya?” 

“No,” you answer, sounding not at all convincing to yourself. Eddie lifts his brow to you, his face comically twisted as he continues to tend to his wound. “Okay, maybe a little.” 

He chuckles, smirking as he adjusts the guitar on his lap again. “Poster in your room?” 

Fuck, you were hoping he didn’t hear that, despite him being in earshot. 

“Well it was signed and it just so happened to be one of my favorite albums.” Despite your nerves tickling the surface right under your skin, you do your best to seem unfazed by his magic fingers.  

His brows furrow, delicately playing a soft rock melody. At least, you think it's soft rock. “Which one?”

”Hell’s Angels,” you answer candidly. You do like the songs of Freak! More, but you specifically requested a poster of Hell’s Angels because of the dark look in Eddie’s eye while he’s looking directly in the listener. 

There may have been a night where you placed it perfectly on the wall so it appears he’s between your open legs to make it easier to picture him glancing up at you while he—

He tilts his head dismissively lifting one side of his upper lift in a sneer. “Not my best. If I had to pick a favorite, and don’t tell anyone I said this, it’d be Freak!” 

You blink in surprise, grinning to yourself as you listen to the gentle strum of his guitar. 

“I do remember sending that poster off though, Steve never mentioned who it was for, I just figured It would earn him some serious brownie points for a girl he was chasing.” It feels so weird to hear about your dad dating, even after all these years. 

“Nope,” you shrug. “Just his favorite daughter.” 

“Shit,” he laughs, a hiccup in his guitar play, “if you wanted an autograph you should’ve just asked. Only takes me two seconds.”

Your mind buzzes with the offer, probably a throwaway comment of his, but just the offer alone is enough to send you almost on a mental spiral. 

“Alright!” Steve saves you in the nick of time, running downstairs with a gray suitcase occasionally colliding every few steps or so. “Let’s go, Munson!” 

“Ok,” Eddie sets the guitar aside and turns his amp off, a stripe of skin nearly irresistible as he stretches. Aware of the company in the living room, who actually paid no mind, you memorize the pattern of his delicious looking treasure trail. God what would it feel like to nuzzle into those pretty little hairs. 

You’re still gawking. 

“Dude, leather jacket with sweatpants?” Steve reprimands, one eyebrow tilted as he looks at Eddie perplexed.

You hate to say it but he really makes it work. 

“What? Not like I’m really going anywhere,” Eddie shrugs, patting his pockets for a double check he has everything.   

The former glances at you, pointing at his friend. “Look at this get-up.” 

You pretend as if you hadn’t already, giving Eddie a one over. You take advantage of it, really taking your time. “I’ll give him a break, he wears leather pants on stage in 100 degree heat,” you answer, crossing your arms. “Just this once though. Don’t let us see you slacking again.” You were going to add a Munson at the end of it, but you figured it’d go too far. 

A chorus of soft laughter from both of them fills the room. “Yes ma'am,” he salutes, sending a jolt down your spine. Oh, that’s something you’ll need to dissect…eventually. 

Two steps away from the door, your dad turns back towards you to initiate one last hug. You let out a hum of contentment, giggling as he tells you to take it easy on Eddie. 

“Safe flight,” you wish him, one last squeeze until he reluctantly lets you go. ”Text me when you land.” 

Eddie appears with his hair in a low and loose bun, some curly strands framing his face. “Alright, Harrington. Get ready for your mid-life crisis.” 

The slick, low car that takes up one half of the driveway right next to your father’s Mercedes SUV stands out, probably one of the only flashy things he owns. (However, he also paid someone to drive up his van when he realized he still needed to move an old man’s house worth of clutter and valuables.)

As you watch the car drive to the end of the ridiculously long driveway, you can’t help but feel like a decision has been made for you. 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood turn to one. There is no more coke or pepsi. The radio will only air one station.

Being alone with Eddie Munson suddenly feels like a temptation. 

You just hope he has the good sense not to feel the same way.     

-

Thank you so much for reading, remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

I'm so sorry how much of this was in the preview, I tried to give what was in the fic but I have most of the whole thing done and I can't wait to see some reactions to the later bits. Particularly the filthy smut

main taglist: @alastorssimp @mmunson86 @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

taglist for Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways To Torture Him: @emxxblog @transparentenemypenguin @stylesxmunson @ali-r3n @mediocredreams @miaajaade @dreamerjj @prestinalove @pretty-pink-princess

[dcxdpdabbles]

So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.

Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.

Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!

Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.

It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.

Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.

It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.

But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.

One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.

Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.

"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.

"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.

She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.

"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."

"I'm not paying for your meal."

"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"

She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."

Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.

She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.

She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.

As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.

Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.

"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.

"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."

She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."

Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."

"I can do it if you-"

"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."

Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"

"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.

Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.

Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.

Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.

What had alarmed Dani so much?

"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."

Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."

She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.

He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.

A small victory.

Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.

"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."

"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."

"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.

To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.

Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.

He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"

Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)

Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."

The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.

"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."

"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.

Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face

"Bruce?"

"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."

[raekensluver]

a guarded romance (1)

part two

description: you are a famous billionaire's daughter and your father has hired you a new bodyguard. his name is spencer reid and he used to be a part of the fbi's behavior analysis unit.

pairing: bodyguard!spencer reid x famous!reader

contains: age gap (everyone is 18+), fake relationship, mentions of a stalker, talk of parental death, overprotective father, lmk if i missed anything!

song rec: you don't own me by SAYGRACE ft. g-eazy- "don't tell me what to do, and don't tell me what to say."

w.c: 2.4k

an: i hope you all enjoy!! i feel like there aren't many bodyguard!spencer fics on tumblr. please give me feedback! good or bad, i appreciate it!

in the grandiose study, the scent of aged leather and mahogany filled the air, a silent testament to the wealth and power that had been cultivated within its walls. the room was dimly lit, the setting sun casting a warm glow through the stained glass windows, creating a mosaic of colors on the polished floor. your father's office was a sanctuary, a place where he made decisions that shifted the course of empires, but today, it was where your world was about to be upended once again.

"honey," your father's firm voice called out as you stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving the paperwork scattered across his desk. he looked up, the stern lines on his face softening slightly as he took in your appearance. "this is spencer reid, your new bodyguard."

spencer stood by the door, his posture ramrod straight, and his eyes met yours. there was a flicker of something in them, an intensity that made you pause. he was tall, with a lean build and a sharp jawline that spoke of discipline and experience. his suit was impeccable, but there was a hint of something else beneath the surface, a wildness that the tailored fabric couldn't quite conceal. he looked older than you, maybe thirty-five, if you had to guess.

"daddy, i don't need another babysitter," you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. "i'm twenty-five, not five. i can handle myself."

your father sighed heavily, setting down his pen and folding his hands together. "sweetheart, it's not about that. it's about keeping you safe. with everything that's been happening, i just want to make sure you're protected."

you rolled your eyes, feeling the familiar ache of frustration in your chest. "what's been happening? i've had one stalker in the last year, and that was just some lovesick fan. i can handle myself."

spencer cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between you and your father. "miss carter, if i may, i understand your concerns. i've studied the case files and the potential threats are minimal. but in the line of work i've been in, it's always better to be safe than sorry."

his words hung in the air, and you felt a spark of curiosity. there was something about the way he spoke, a calm confidence that was hard to ignore. maybe he wasn't just another incompetent bodyguard your father had hired.

"fine," you relented, unable to argue with his logic. "but i don't need you following me around like a shadow."

spencer nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "i understand, miss. i'll do my best to respect your privacy while ensuring your safety."

the week flew by in a whirlwind of meetings and social engagements, with spencer a constant presence at your side. your father had informed you of the annual gala in a week's time, a grand affair where the crème de la crème of society mingled and networked. "you need to make an appearance," he'd said, his tone brooking no argument. "and i expect you to look the part."

"spencer," your father announced, his voice carrying a hint of finality, "you will accompany my daughter to select a suitable gown for the gala. it's an important event, and i want her to be dressed to the nines."

you felt a pang of annoyance at the thought of being dragged around by a bodyguard to pick out a dress, but the idea of escaping your father's scrutiny was tempting. "fine," you said with a resigned sigh, "but i can't believe you're making me go to this thing."

spencer's eyes met yours for a brief moment before he nodded. "i'll be there to ensure nothing goes wrong, miss."

the shopping trip was a delicate dance of wills. you wove through the racks of haute couture, your mind racing with thoughts of the gala and the dreaded encounter with the man your father insisted on setting you up with. spencer remained a silent sentinel, his eyes scanning the room, his presence both comforting and stifling.

you slid a sleek, black dress from its hanger, the fabric whispering against the others as it glided through the air. it was perfect for the gala, elegant yet understated, a stark contrast to the flashy outfits you knew the other attendees would be wearing. you held it up to your body, the soft fabric brushing against your fingertips. "what do you think?" you asked, not bothering to hide the challenge in your voice.

spencer's gaze flicked over the dress and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. "it's… appropriate," he said, his voice measured. "but i suspect you're looking for something more than just appropriate."

you couldn't argue with that. you wanted to make a statement, to show the world that you weren't just a billionaire's daughter to be bartered off to the highest bidder. you wanted to be seen as a woman of substance, not just a pretty face in a sea of designer labels. "i need something that says 'hands off'," you murmured, your eyes searching the racks for the perfect dress.

spencer's gaze sharpened. "you worried about someone in particular?"

you nodded, your thoughts drifting to the smug grin of the man your father was so keen on setting you up with. "his name is alexander. he's… persistent."

spencer's eyebrows shot up, the first real sign of emotion you'd seen from him. "oh, i know the type," he said, his voice tight. "well, let's make sure you're dressed to make him understand that you're not interested."

you felt a strange thrill at his sudden protectiveness, and you found yourself smiling slightly. "okay, let's do this."

as the gala night approached, the tension in the air grew thick. your father had been dropping hints about alexander, reminding you of his wealth and status, and his potential as a suitable match. you, on the other hand, had been preparing your speech, rehearsing the perfect way to tell alexander that you had no interest in him without causing a scene.

the evening of the gala arrived, and you found yourself in a whirlwind of hair and makeup artists, turning you into the picture of sophistication. the dress spencer had helped you choose was a stunning blood red that made your eyes pop and your skin glow. it hugged your curves in all the right places and had just the right amount of flair to make you feel powerful.

as you descended the grand staircase, your father's eyes widened with approval. "you look… incredible," he said, his voice filled with pride. "exactly what a future lady of the house should look like."

you bit back a retort, choosing instead to smile sweetly. "thank you, daddy. i'm sure reid will make sure i'm well protected tonight."

your father nodded, his gaze flicking to your bodyguard, who was standing a respectful distance away, watching the exchange. "he better," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the gala was a dizzying array of lights and sounds, the chatter of the elite echoing through the opulent ballroom. spencer was a silent shadow at your side, his eyes never still as they swept the room, looking for any sign of trouble. you felt a strange comfort in his vigilance, his presence a buffer between you and the world that so often felt suffocating.

as the evening progressed, you spotted alexander cutting through the crowd, his eyes locked on you like a hawk on its prey. your heart sank, but spencer was there, his hand lightly on your elbow, guiding you through the throng of people with an ease that belied his size. "just keep walking," he murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "ignore him."

but alexander was not so easily deterred. he reached you before you could escape, his smile as plastic as the flowers adorning the tables around you. "so, the elusive miss carter," he said, his voice oozing with false charm. "how are you enjoying the gala?"

you felt your heart race, his presence setting your nerves on edge. "i'm enjoying it," you replied, your voice cool and even. "thank you for asking."

alexander's gaze slid to spencer, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "and who is this charming man at your side?"

your heart pounded in your chest, your mind racing for a way to shake alexander off. without missing a beat, you reached for spencer's hand, squeezing it tightly. "this is my fiancé, spencer reid," you blurted out, the words surprising even you.

spencer's eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly, his hand closing around yours. "hello, alexander," he said smoothly, a polite smile playing on his lips. "i've heard so much about you."

alexander's gaze darted between the two of you, his confusion clear. "fiancé?" he repeated, his voice skeptical. "i had no idea, your father said nothing about this."

you felt your cheeks heat up, but you held your ground, flashing spencer a desperate look. "it's a recent development," you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "we wanted to keep it private for a bit."

alexander's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "recent?" he echoed, his grip on his champagne flute tightening. "how recent?"

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. "very recent," you said, the lie slipping off your tongue with surprising ease. "we just got engaged."

spencer squeezed your hand in reassurance, his eyes never leaving alexander's. "yes, it was quite a whirlwind," he said, playing along flawlessly. "we didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

alexander's expression shifted from skepticism to something darker, his grip on his drink tightening. "well, congratulations," he said, his voice tight. "i wish you both the best."

you felt a wave of relief wash over you as he turned and disappeared into the crowd. you looked up at spencer, your heart still racing. "thank you," you murmured, your voice shaky. "i can't believe that worked."

spencer's smile was tight, his eyes still scanning the room. "it's not over yet," he said, his grip on your hand still firm. "let's get you somewhere quieter, away from prying eyes."

you allowed him to lead you to a secluded corner of the mansion, the music and chatter of the gala fading into a distant buzz. the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, the moon casting a soft silver light over the manicured gardens outside. it was a stark contrast to the bright, flashy lights of the ballroom, and the calmness of the night seeped into your bones.

spencer's hand was still wrapped around yours, his eyes never leaving the partygoers as he scanned for any sign of danger or unwanted attention. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

you nodded, trying to compose yourself. "yeah, i just… i didn't expect to lie like that." the words felt heavy on your tongue, but the truth was, you had no intention of letting alexander near you again.

spencer's gaze softened, his grip on your hand loosening slightly. "it's alright," he said gently. "i've seen worse at these types of events."

you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for dragging him into your personal drama. "i'm sorry," you whispered. "i didn't mean to get you involved."

spencer's gaze finally left the crowd, his eyes meeting yours. "it's part of the job," he said, his voice gentle. "and i'd rather be involved than see you miserable."

you looked down at your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin. "thank you," you said again, the words feeling inadequate. "i just… i don't know why my father can't see that i'm not a little girl anymore."

spencer's eyes searched yours, filled with understanding. "he's just trying to protect you," he said. "it's hard for parents to let go, especially when they've lost someone as important as your mother."

his words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt the familiar ache in your chest. your mother's death had left a void in your life that no one had ever truly filled, not even your father's overbearing attention. "i know," you said softly, "but it's like he doesn't trust me to make my own decisions."

spencer's expression grew serious. "it's his way of dealing with his fear," he said. "but you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, and i'm here to support you in any way i can."

his words resonated with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt seen. "really?" you asked, hope flickering in your eyes.

spencer nodded. "really," he said, his voice firm. "you're a strong, independent woman. and if your father won't give you the space you need, i'll do my best to make sure you have it."

his words echoed in the quiet corner of the mansion, and you felt a sudden urge to get out of the suffocating atmosphere of the gala. "can we leave?" you asked, your voice small. "i don't think i can handle much more of this."

spencer's eyes searched yours for a moment before he nodded. "of course," he said, his voice calm. "let's go."

you felt a wave of relief as he led you through the throng of people, his hand at the small of your back a reassuring presence. the cool night air hit you like a slap in the face after the stifling heat of the gala, sending a shiver down your spine. the stars twinkled overhead, a stark contrast to the artificial lights of the mansion.

spencer opened the door to the sleek black sedan waiting outside, his hand on the small of your back as you slid into the passenger seat. you felt his eyes on you as he took his place beside you, the leather seats sighing beneath your weight. "are you okay?" he asked again, his voice low and concerned.

you took a deep breath, the cool leather calming your frazzled nerves. "i'm fine," you said, your voice shaky. "i just… i hate those kinds of events."

spencer's eyes searched yours, and without a word, he reached over and gently took your hand that was resting on your lap. "i promise," he said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve, "i will talk to your father. you're an adult, and you deserve to make your own choices."

his hand was warm and comforting, and you felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards him. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. "i just want to live my life without feeling like i'm under a microscope."

spencer squeezed your hand gently before releasing it to start the car. the engine purred to life, the smooth vibrations of the vehicle a stark contrast to the chaos of the evening. as you pulled away from the mansion, the lights of the gala grew smaller in the rearview mirror, and you felt a weight lift from your shoulders.

edited 8.21.24

[scififettuccine]

maybe a frenchie x supe!reader? there’s not enough frenchie fics out there! like maybe they don’t get along but they’re forced to work together?

A Wild Fix: Part 1

Pairing: Frenchie x Reader

Summary: You, Wild Card, a 27 year old Supe newly signed by Vought, are recruited by Billy Butcher following an incident in Vought Tower. With the help of The Boys, you vow to destroy the corrupt system that wronged so many. But will your mission be tainted by your constant bickering with one of your new team members?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, drug use, Homelander (Obviously), mentions of drug use, questionable French

Notes: I absolutely LOVED this request. I slept on it once I saw it because I had so many ideas and I didn't know where to start...but my goal is going to be a 3-5 part series! I'm going to try my best to keep each part under 2k, maybe 1.5k each? No gender was specified in the request so I'm gonna keep it as a GN reader!

From the outside...Vought as a whole seemed like the shiny pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that every Supe had striven for since the company's creation. But you? You knew the truth. Only 24 hours into your career as a member of The Seven, you had been subjected to more violence than you expected from a group that was supposedly supposed to save people. Your first meeting with the rest of the group had gone south quickly once you questioned one of Homelanders statements, and stood your ground when he told you to back down. Before you could even blink, you were pinned against the wall, with a firm hand pressed against your neck, constricting your breathing. In that moment, you understood that being compliant was the only thing that would secure your status as living. So that's what you did, you nodded your head and said “yes sir.” Needless to say, you left that room with the fear of god, no, the fear of The Homelander, choked into you…But you knew you couldn’t sleep here. So you booked a hotel room for the night, hoping maybe the receptionist wouldn't notice the bruises on your neck.But while you walked there, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged yourself to keep the cool night air out of your jacket, you were approached by a man named Billy Butcher. The two of you had a lengthy conversation outside of the hotel regarding the truth behind Homelander, The Seven, and Vought as a whole. Then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: a chance to get back at Homelander. A chance to bring yourself justice, as well as bring justice to the others he had hurt in his desperate pursuit of ultimate power. Of course…you agreed. 

You had kept in touch with Butcher the following week on a burner phone he had given you, knowing that Vought had most likely bugged all of your personal technology…and on your next day off? You met him at a location that was unknown to you, one you would soon come to be familiar with. As he ushered you down the wooden stairs of the unknown building, you weren't met with the most reassuring of environments. Drug paraphernalia, along with various illegal weapons, and full ammo boxes littered the expanse of the rather unwelcoming looking hideout. You stopped at the bottom step and pointed to a literal stack of plastic bags containing what you could only assume was coke.

“That’s…” you swallowed, “That’s coke.” Butcher, who had been guiding you down the stairs with his hand on your lower back, laughed and shook his head.

“That’s right, love. Bags of coke.” Billy said with a small chuckle as he patted your back and stepped onto the broken concrete floor of the basement, greeting the others that inhabited the space. The first person you noticed was a rather lengthy looking young man who looked to be around the same age as you with slightly curly brown hair. Admittedly, you thought he dressed like a twelve year old. He was seated on a questionable looking couch, next to an older man with a bigger build and a darker complexion…who looked like he could snap you in half with little to no effort. Your gaze then flickered further into the room, and your gaze landed on a man who was around the same height as you. Not exactly tall…but not short either. The man in question had a buzz cut, a piercing on his left ear, and was wearing an orange and black tie-dyed shirt, along with cargo pants. He was seated on one of the tables that housed various pieces of drug paraphernalia, and was seemingly using a business card to arrange lines of coke on the back of an old phone book that sat on his lap.

“Well boys…here they are. This is Y/N L/N.” Butcher interrupted your silent evaluation as he addressed the room. He walked back to your side and put a hand on your shoulder, moving to point to the younger man on the couch. “That poor bastard there is Hughie,” he moved to the man next to him, “that's MM,” and finally…he pointed to the man sitting on the table. “That’s Frenchie.” Frenchie pulled his head away from the phonebook, white power dusted on his nose.

“Bonjour-” He said, cutting himself off with a sniffle as he wiped the coke from his nose. Oh, that's why they called him Frenchie. You narrowed your eyes, the greetings of the two other men falling on deaf ears as you looked Frenchie over. Clearly something important had been said during the duration of your staring, because you were knocked out of your thoughts by a firm nudge to the shoulder by Butcher.

“Oi, Hellen Keller! Are you up for it or not?” Butcher asked. He realized you hadn’t heard him and narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “We’re going to meet up with an info plug…You can either come or stay here with Frenchie.” You sort of just panicked and blurted out an answer, not wanting to ask any dumb questions about the info plug.

“I’ll stay…with uh, Frenchie.” You said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You weren’t an overly judgy person, you really weren't…but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation regarding staying alone with a man who had done coke off the back of a dirty phone book within the first minute of you meeting him. Butcher smirked when he saw the look of regret on your face.

“Right then. We’ll be back, love.” He said, gesturing for Hughie and MM to follow him out. “Make yourself at home.” With that, the three made their way up the stairs, leaving you alone with Frenchie. You took the moment of awkward silence that followed them leaving to look around the basement, your feet glued to the floor of course. The walls of the space were composed of a skeleton made of wooden posts, which were filled in with a mixture of red brick, and the same color of concrete that the floor was made of. The walls in question were littered with spray painted tags of many different colors, most of which you couldn’t read, due to the fact that they were in a different language, but they were oddly beautiful nonetheless. The lighting in the room, just a few hanging light bulbs, added to the strange ambiance of the room.

“You are Wild Card…Yes?” The silence was broken by Frenchie, who was still sitting on the table, but now facing your direction. You turned to him and nodded, albeit awkwardly.

“Yeah…Yeah. That's me. Just call me Y/N, though.” You said, trying your best to give a convincing smile.

“Y/N…” He nodded as he repeated your name, “Oui. A good name.” He looked at you for a moment, almost waiting for you to respond. When you didn't, he pursed his lips and blinked. “Remind me, Y/N…What are your powers exactly?” You sighed when he asked that. It was always strange explaining what exactly your powers were.

You were called Wild Card for a reason. While you were powerful…using your powers was sort of like playing a game of russian roulette, only with the gun pointed towards the other person. You could do a multitude of different things, along with the constant of your strength, speed, and agility. You could create different balls of explosive matter, you could manipulate and use the moisture present in the air for multiple different attacks, along with a few other niche things. The problem was…you never knew which would happen beforehand. All you could go off was the feeling you felt in your palms. You weren’t exactly the most reliable Supe abilities wise…but every one of your random attacks was extremely powerful, making you a good person to throw into the mix if things aren't going well for the rest of your team, which is why you were a valuable member to add to The Seven.

“Uhm…Have you ever played Uno before? Like the card game?” You asked. Frenchie nodded. “Well it’s kinda like when you put a wild card down in Uno, and you get to pick a color…Except you pick the color blindly.” Frenchie sort of stared at you for a moment, before he started laughing. You tensed up when you heard him laugh, but you tried to laugh along, due to the fact that you couldn’t tell if he was laughing with you or at you. “Forgive me, mon cher-” He stifled a laugh before continuing, “that is the silliest thing I've ever heard.” At that comment, you frowned, taking a step back even though you were across the room from each other.

“Silly? It’s not silly at all…I’m pretty powerful, all things considered-”

“But you just use it blindly?” He asked with a chuckle. “What happens when you want to shoot a fireball or something, but you summon a child’s teddy to your hand instead?” That ticked you off. Who the hell was he to insult your powers? He was a druggie, and didn't even have any.

“How can you sit there and insult me when you were doing lines off the back of a 30 year old phonebook when I walked in?” You asked, your words coming out a bit more spiteful than you had intended. Frenchie narrowed his eyes, but tried to shake off his anger. He wasn’t fond of fighting with people over small things, especially not when intoxicated. 

“Ah…I see…” He said with a chuckle that you could only describe as pathetic, “All Supes really do have an ego, don't they?” He asked, hopping off the table he was sitting on.

“Hey! You've known me for five minutes and you're already making assumptions about me?” You balled your fists and took an accusatory step forward. Frenchie raised a brow.

“And I’m safe to assume that you’ve already painted this image of me in your head like some sort of druggie asshole?” Damn. He got you with that one. But alas…You were too prideful to let him have the last word. You scoffed.

“Maybe I’ll change my opinions when you’ve done something other than do drugs and laugh at me.” You said with a roll of your eyes. You weren't a conflictive person…But the last few days had been long and hard, so you couldn't exactly help it.

“Ditto, mon amour.” He said, his face painted with an absolutely infuriating smirk.

“Fuck you.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know nothing about me.”

“Eh bien, va te faire foutre toi aussi.” He said, almost matter-of-factly, mocking your current stance. You didn’t speak French, but you could only assume he had said something insulting back. Well, fuck you too. You were about to spit something back, but thankfully, Butcher came walking back down the wooden stairs, an eyebrow raised.

“Everything's alright down here, love?” He asks, the look on his face a mix between suspicion and curiosity. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” You said, your tone strained. Butcher then looked over to Frenchie, who simply gave a thumbs up before leaning down to do another line off the phonebook. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You were too exhausted to say anything else.

The nerve of this man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think it's safe to say this mini series is going to be lots of fun! I love Frenchie as a character, and it was really fun to come up with a fun Supe persona for the reader! I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part 2! I'm also working on a taglist form so keep an eye out for that! Adieu!

Masterlist

[krazyyyyyy]

Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

 She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?” 

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!”  Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result. 

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

 Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!” 

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

~

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

broken trust. [part 2] l Joel Miller

Summary:  you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings:  angst, swearing, mentions of sex, Ellie appears

 A/N: I was very happy with how you received the first part of this story. I hope you'll stay with me a little longer and see where it leads us. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus 🖤 This part is rather nothing interesting, but I hope you won't waste too much time.

[PART 1]

It was strange to have you by his side again. Although the entire drive to Jackson was silent, Joel felt as if someone had put a gun barrel to his head. Dusk fell rather quickly, the warm evening air filling the car as you cracked the window open.

The patrol you met didn't cause you any trouble and you got to Jackson when the city was lit up by streetlights.

The car parked in front of a building marked as a medical clinic.

"Go home." Joel muttered as Ellie started walking with you towards the front door.

"I don't want to. I'm going with you." The girl was outraged.

"No need. Go."

Ellie snorted, but adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, muttered a quiet "Bye" in your direction and headed down the main street of Jackson.

He was hoping you would say something, but all he heard was the clinic door opening and he saw you disappear inside. 

Joel never liked doctors. Every visit reminded him of uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, nervous nurses and doctors who treated everyone with contempt. And that whole strange smell.

The place was neat and clean though, and the doctor, an older man with a slightly nervous disposition, was quite pleasant and didn't take up much of the others' time.

"Y/N!" he smiled happily seeing you in the doorway "I'm very happy to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Doc. I brought you a patient, but I don't think you'll have much work with him." You replied, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.

"Mr. Miller? What happened to you?" the doctor showed Joel to a chair and helped him take off his jacket. "It doesn't look bad. We'll manage, Mr. Miller."

The doctor carefully disinfected his wound and put in a few stitches. Joel saw out of the corner of his eye how you were walking lazily around the office looking at old anatomy posters and joking with Doc. 

Thousands of questions were spinning in his head and he didn't know who he should ask them to, because he knew that he had no right to ask them to you after all this time.

"What about you, young lady?" Doc washed his hands under the tap in the corner of the room and looked at you "How did everything heal?"

"Good, I guess. The scar is healing nicely." you replied and rolled your eyes seeing as Doc gestured for you to come over "No need, really."

Joel frowned and looked up at you. Maybe he shouldn't have done this, but he felt a strange pang in his heart. You were hurt.

Although Doc was covering you, he saw you lift your shirt, showing the doctor your side.

"Mhm. It looks really good." the doctor mumbled "But you have to be careful, okay? And...What is this?"

Now Joel could see clearly, your back was clearly bruised and you hissed when Doc touched the spot.

"The ribs are intact, that's good. When did this happen?"

"Today. But it's my fault. I got distracted."

"Mhm." the man nodded "You need to rest, Y/N. I know I can't force you to do anything, but please, get a good night's sleep and eat something."

"Yes, sir." you smiled "Can I go now?"

You left the clinic and only outside, when Joel spoke to you, did you realize that he had followed you.

"Y/N." Your name still sounded the same on his lips "Do you wanna talk?"

You zipped up your jacket to protect yourself from the cold and looked at Joel. He hadn't changed that much since you last saw him. He might have been more tired, but he was still the same man you'd woken up and fallen asleep next to so many times.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." You replied, shoving your hands into your pockets "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive."

"Today's thanks to you."

"Yeah, take this as a favor for old times. Listen, I'd like to take a shower and lie down, I think I'll go now."

The man nodded. You turned around and started walking away, but after a few steps you stopped and looked at him again. He didn't move even a single step.

"Joel? I'm really glad you found Tommy. And that you're both alive."

The next gloomy days passed, but your enthusiasm didn’t decrease. Joel saw your notes, you calculated everything you needed to come to an agreement with Howard and his friend. Getting out of QZ was your little obsession. You practically didn’t talk about anything else.

And Joel felt worse and worse. He had the impression that a noose was tightening around his neck, which was getting tighter with each passing day.

The first blow came after more than a week. He was in town exchanging food stamps when your fingers tightened on his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the mixture of different emotions on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing is okay." you mumbled. "We're in deep shit."

Joel looked around uncertainly. The street wasn’t a good place for such conversations. He grabbed your hand and led you home. But he already knew - it had begun.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and when you entered the apartment you just threw off your bag and jacket, sat on the couch and hid your face in your hands.

"Baby?"

You let out a groan of a person who is resigned and angry at the same time. You were filled with emotions and thoughts to the very limits, you needed a moment to yourself. However, after a few minutes he heard your voice.

"He sold it. He sold it, Joel." Your hands slid off your face and Joel saw your glassy eyes "That fucking car, is gone."

A snort escaped your lips, a mixture of laughter and mockery. Joel felt himself sinking deeper and deeper inside.

"I met Howard, he said it was over. I wanted to know more, but he told me to leave it..." you continued, staring blankly at your hands "Leave it! How... How am I supposed to leave it?!"

He approached and sat on the coffee table right in front of you, taking your hands in his. Seeing you like this was just sad.

"I should kill him." You muttered angrily. "I should do it."

"You know you can't. They'll catch you and it'll be even worse."

"I don't fucking care, Joel." Your hands slipped out of his. "He took away our chance. We were supposed to get out of here…"

"I know, I know, babe."

Finally, tears escaped from under your eyelids. It was one of the saddest sights for Joel. You were always so strong, you were on his side and he trusted you like no one else. But in that moment, your faith and hope for a better tomorrow shattered into a thousand pieces.

He allowed you to despair. And it lasted for several days. Joel often saw your red eyes, rarely heard your voice, and was also sure that you barely slept at night.

He wasn't ready for something like this, but he was sure you could handle it. You were tough, you'd get over it and soon everything would be back to normal.

He breathed a sigh of relief when one night he felt your arms wrap around his waist, you snuggled into his back, saying a quiet "I'm sorry."

But Joel knew it wasn't you who should be apologizing.

Tommy finished his coffee and looked at his brother. When he showed up at his house that morning, he seemed really down. At first, Tommy thought he was talking about his failed fling with Ellie. He had heard about it and was really glad that you were the one who found him and the kid.

"So you know Y/N?" he asked.

Joel nodded.

"From Boston?"

Another nod.

"Hmm, you don't seem happy to see her. Am I wrong?"

Joel's long fingers twirled the coffee cup around, he winced slightly.

"That's not it." he finally spoke up. "We have..."

"A story. I get it." Tommy stretched in his chair. "She's been here for a long time. Maybe two winters, I think. She's really helpful. She found and brought Doc here, that helped us. She brought some equipment to the clinic. That helped Maria give birth."

"Yeah, she's good at finding things. And people."

The sound of footsteps upstairs and the babbling of a baby distracted them for a moment. Life went on as usual in this house, and while Joel was always welcome, he knew he had to take care of his own life.

"Talk to her," Tommy finally said, as if reading his brother's mind. "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

It was bad.

All your fears came back in the blink of an eye. When you saw Joel after so long, you felt like you were seeing a ghost. You managed to hide all the memories associated with him and the emotions that accompanied them very well somewhere in the back of your head.

Now, however, they scattered around your mind and didn't give you peace. Neither coffee nor a long shower helped. After a sleepless night, you felt like a living corpse, and your back was giving you painful symptoms.

But you couldn't stay in your apartment, you had to do something. So you went outside with the intention of taking what you managed to get during your last trip, to the clinic. Imagine your surprise when you saw a familiar figure next to your car.

"Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I came to see you. I didn't know where you lived so I came here." The girl smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at school or something?"

"Day off."

"Yeah, sure." You shook your head smiling. "I don't want to interfere. Joel probably doesn't know where you are, right?"

Ellie shuffled her shoe before answering.

"He's not my father, I can do whatever I want." She replied rebelliously.

You pulled two boxes out of the trunk and put them on the ground. The girl looked at you as if she was expecting what she might hear.

"He may not be your father, but he's the one who cares about you and can keep you safe."

"Did he give it to you too?"

You bit your lip, wondering how to answer. But you knew that only an honest answer would satisfy Ellie.

"Yeah, he did."

"So what happened?"

"These are matters for adults." You replied, but you winked at her.

That assured her that she wasn't entering dangerous territory and you wouldn't be telling her to go back to school or Joel.

"Do you need help?" she pointed to the boxes.

"Come on. At least you'll be doing something useful."

Everything was slowly getting back to normal, and that brought Joel relief. The car and Howard issue was closed, you didn't talk about it and focused on what was around you.

You might have gone out of the QZ walls a little more often, but Joel treated it more as a compensation for you. He even liked it, even though he was constantly looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on you.

That was all he could give you, a few stolen moments outside the gray world you lived in. And you tried to take as much of it as you could.

You worked at QZ, and in your free time, together with Joel, you would sneak outside. Then you would go back to your shared apartment, make love at night, or just lie on the couch reading some old books. Sometimes you would get carried away by fantasy, like when Joel tried to convince you that he used to be a really good dancer. So you would dance cuddled in the living room while he hummed some melody that only he knew in your ear. It was soothing. His hand gently moving over your back, his voice quiet and calm. This was the life you created for yourselves.

But the end came as suddenly as an avalanche.

"Babe, are you here?"

He threw his jacket on the armchair and looked around the apartment looking for your trace. The place was quiet, but he finally saw you coming out of the bedroom.

"It took me longer today, but I got something extra. Have you eaten anything? I managed to get some fresh bread, I know how much you love it."

You didn't answer. You stood leaning against the door frame and watched him with your arms folded across your chest. A cold shiver ran down his spine. 

You knew. He could feel it.

"What did I do to you, Joel?"

Your voice was almost dead, calm and so resigned.

"Sweetie..." he began uncertainly, but he didn't know what to say.

"What did I do to you, Joel?" you repeated the question just as calmly as before. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

He walked up to you and took your face in his large, warm hands. He wanted you to snuggle into them, like always, but your body was completely unmoved.

"I met Howard's friend today. We started talking. I asked if there was a chance for a battery or a reasonably functional car." The words flowed from your lips. "He laughed. He asked... He asked me why I bothered him when my boyfriend would show up soon and give him much more to sell it to someone else. Joel..."

You said his name as if you were begging him to tell you that it wasn't true, that this was all some stupid joke. But he couldn't, you could see it in his eyes.

"How dare you, Joel? How dare you?"

Why did you have to be so calm? That was the worst part of it all. You seemed as cold and unapproachable to him as ever.

"I did it for your own good." He finally replied. "For your safety. Listen, there's nothing there. You're safe here. And you're alive."

"Who gave you the right to decide for me?" you pulled away from him in disgust.

"I care about you!"

"You care about me?!" you scoffed "First you told me beautiful stories about how we'd get out of here, and then you took it all away from me! You watched me cry, you watched how devastated I was... Fuck, you must have really enjoyed it!"

"Don't say that! You know perfectly well that I... You know that you're important to me."

You never named what was between you two. It was good, so there was no need. Besides, you knew perfectly well that Joel wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. 

His feelings were described by words like "Be careful", "Don't go there alone", "I'll go first" or "I've got your back". Or in the way he touched or looked at you. But now you were looking at a man you weren't sure you knew.

"Listen. Baby..."

"Don't call me that. That's bullshit!"

Your eyes filled with tears. A chasm appeared between you that couldn't be bridged.

"I wanted this for us." You whispered with difficulty. "I wanted us to leave this place behind. I know it's dangerous there, I know it would be hard, but we would be there together. I wanted you to find Tommy. I would go with you to the end of the world if you only asked..."

"I'm so sorry. You don't even know how much I regretted it. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

You nodded and wiped your tear-soaked cheek with your hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Joel approached you and his hand brushed your cheek. He wanted to take you in his arms so much, to feel your warmth. He knew he would never be able to atone for what he had done. But the most important thing was for you to be safe and sound, with him.

For a brief moment he thought that everything would still work out. Joel didn't know how wrong he was.

You were already one foot out the door.

[PART 3]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[brain-rot-central]

Up In Smoke

A/N: Basically he smokes weed and has a really good orgasm. That's the whole fic. Very self-indulgent, but whatever. Hope you all enjoy!

Rating: light E Word count: 3.5k Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Fem!Tav Warnings: 18+, dubcon for being under the influence, drug use, alcohol mention, breeding kink, praise kink, male masturbation, mutual pining, trauma mention, intimacy issues

Summary: The gang finally reaches Baldur's Gate. Astarion isn't handling it so well, knowing he's so close to Cazador again. Tav makes an innocent suggestion that he go down to the shops and find something that can help relieve some of his pent up anxiety.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leans over to further inspect the small clear jar within his hands. Inside, a dried cluster of pungent flowers resides. Their faint smell lingers about the small tavern suite. He shakes the jar slightly, following how each bud bounces between the glass.

They've finally made it to Baldur's Gate, and gods what a relief. Not to say he didn't enjoy getting his hands messy, but there was never quite enough he could do to dig out the dirt caked within his nails. He dreamed of soaking in a hot bath for weeks.

Yet, being back in Baldur's Gate also means something more sinister.

It means he’s closer to confronting him.

His old master.

Cazador.

He panics the night before, screaming whenever he'd slip into trance. Horrid memories play behind his eyes. He feels paralyzed within them – the feeling of a hand closing around his neck, a dagger slicing into his back, shackles around his arms and legs, unable to move within the confines of the coffin he lay in for a year.

Tav wakes him eventually, holding him close within their warm embrace. She lulls him back to sleep until he slips into a more peaceful trance. When they awake the next morning, Tav proposes he go down to the shops and look for a sleep aid, or something that could potentially help quell the overwhelming sense of anticipation building within him.

“I only wish for you to be at peace,” she suggests. “You deserve it. Especially now.”

So, he does exactly that.

Perusing the various carts and shops, Astarion inevitably finds an apothecary. He's been to this one before; many, many years ago. He doesn't quite remember the shopkeeper, but feels as if it's the same woman, just now older. 

She's nice enough, giving a warm greeting as he enters the store. The smell of patchouli incense fills his nostrils and almost instantaneously Astarion feels some of the tension melt off his shoulders. 

He explains, in very vague terms, what it is he's experiencing to the shopkeeper. She holds out a glass jar filled with herbs. When he raises a questioning eyebrow, she clarifies, “This is known to help calm even the most fussy of ogres.” She smiles, nudging the jar closer to him. “Go on, take it. You won't regret it.”

With a quick nod of his head, Astarion pays for the herbs and dips out of the shop, stashing the small jar within a pocket of his armor. He reconvenes with Tav and the others; they're to address some sort of problem with a wizard prodigy at Sorcerous Sundries. He sighs audibly as Gale rambles on about the various tomes and wealths of knowledge the store holds. Gale rarely ever lets up when this sort of mood takes him. He briefly wishes he had a scroll of Silence to cast over the wizard.

With the pompous brat slain, the crew returns to the Elfsong Tavern to share a hot meal. Astarion nurses a glass of wine while the others share various plates of grilled meats, vegetables, and fish. Lae’zel offers him the drippings of her steak; he politely declines, though the smell causes his stomach to rumble. He simply chases the sensation away with more wine.

They return to their shared suite within the tavern. The party makes a joint decision that Astarion and Tav share the private room. They aren't the only two having relations, but they are the more… rambunctious couple. Both retire to the bedroom, Tav drawing a bath for herself while Astarion rests on the edge of the bed, as he is now, studying the small glass jar. 

He dares a quick whiff of the herbs, bringing the jar to his face. His face screws up tight, wincing at the offensive odor. “Smells like a godsdamned skunk,” he scoffs. He stares into the jar again.

Fool’s Tongue. 

He’s partaken before at the behest of a client. It was an important brokerage between Cazador and some far-off noble. There wasn’t much choice in the matter for Astarion. But yet, this encounter was a touch better than the others. To this day, Astarion is unsure if it was due to the drug or the man himself. He recalls the comforting embrace of the nobleman with slight fondness. At least the man tried. Not many others did.

Astarion reaches into the small satchel on his hip and pulls out a wooden pipe. He lifted it from Halsin earlier in the evening at dinner. The wood elf becomes soft once drink is involved, making him all the more easy to target. He’ll return it by morning, Astarion promises himself. He may even leave the druid a small token of appreciation for letting him borrow it, should this all work out.

Placing the pipe down onto the comforter, Astarion begins to unlatch his cloak. He lays the jar of herbs down next to the pipe and stands, letting his cape fall to the floor. He works on his armor next, until he’s down to his underthings. Bending down, he begins rummaging through his pack on the floor for his camp clothing. He slips them on, leaving his shirt untucked, and sits back down on the bed.

Astarion picks up the pipe and lays it between pressed-together thighs. It acts as a makeshift support, allowing him to open the glass jar of herbs and retrieve a single nugget. Closing the jar, he places it back down onto the bed, and begins breaking the herbs into smaller pieces to fill Halsin's pipe.

Raising the pipe to his lips, Astarion summons a small flame to the tip of his finger. He stares down the length of the pipe, mustering the resolve to continue. He hears Tav’s voice in his head, as well as that of the old shopkeeper. With a sigh, he brings his finger to the herb, pulling gently on the pipe until it begins to burn.

Smoke fills his lungs a bit too quickly, and he rips the pipe from his mouth. He coughs loudly and a bit dramatically, before finally taking a gasping breath in.

“Astarion!” Tav calls from the washroom. He can hear the sound of water sloshing around in a tub. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, darling!” he calls back. “Not to worry,” he adds in a mumble under his breath, mostly to himself. He surveys the contents of the pipe, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips once more. Again he summons a small flame to the herb, inhaling more shallowly this time as to not scorch the back of his throat.

He holds in the hit, leaning back onto the bed. Outstretching his arms he lets the pipe rest gently on the bed as he blows out the smoke. He coughs softly – better than the first time.

A few moments pass without so much as a sound. Astarion begins to wonder if perhaps the herbs are stale. It isn't until he rolls over that he notices the first sign.

The bed is soft. Inviting. Astarion is acutely aware of how the pillow top envelopes his form. He lays flat on his back again, sighing. His eyes slip closed. An unusual warmth rushes over him, tickling his skin. It feels like he's laying in the sun and suddenly he's transported back to the forest. To the morning after.

He remembers waking up to the morning sunlight bathing his skin. He wakes up slowly, slipping back into his leathers. Tav still sleeps; he moves as swiftly as possible to not wake her. She was beautiful, even then. Naive, yes. He didn't have the best of intentions. But, she was beautiful. And infuriatingly pragmatic.

Another sensation begins to light. Astarion doesn't recognize the feeling right away. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, a surge of heat rushing to his face. He swears his chest thumps with the beating of his undead heart. He stares into the lines of the ceiling, tracing the patterns of wood lining the wall. His eyes fall upon a knot; they slip closed again.

Tav straddles his lap while he lays out on the ground. Astarion’s hands hold her thighs, guiding her hips as she rocks back and forth over him. He travels up the expanse of her abdomen, passing over her navel and up to her swaying breasts. Her hair cascades down her shoulders in loose curls, his gaze continuing upward toward her face. Redded by the blush running across the bridge of her nose, her mouth hangs open in a silent gasp. She meets his gaze through heavy lids.

Astarion feels the flitter of a dormant ember ignite within his lower belly. His back arches off the bed as a gasp slips past his lips. This can’t be what he thinks it is… could it? No, certainly not. He’s surely lost the ability to feel this way without necessity. Without a performance. Without it being a bargaining chip of some kind.

A pulling behind his navel has his hips twitching in response and he feels warmth begin to pool between his legs. Gods, is he…

Aroused?

Is this truly unprovoked arousal that he feels? Astarion sees visions of Tav glistening after a bath; droplets of water sliding down tanned, freckled skin. He moans aloud and again his hips buck. His cock is beginning to stir, each rub against the confines of his leathers having him sliding his hands closer and closer to their waistband. He turns his head toward the direction of the washroom.

Astarion groans as his hand runs over the bulge in his pants and it dawns on him momentarily that it is, indeed his cock hardening at the thought of Tav naked. Her skin flushed from the warm water of the bath, hair wet, nipples pert, hips, thighs, cunt-

He's pulling his pants down quicker than he can manage, letting them pool around his ankles on the floor. He hisses as his fingertips brush the swollen length of his arousal, and he dares a quick glance between his legs. His cock has a reddish hue, similar to after he sups of Tav. It pulsates against his lower abdomen and he cautiously wraps a hand around his shaft.

It's not often he performs acts of pleasure upon himself. Usually his mind cages him off – scolds and berates him until he's too ashamed to continue. But with the influence of the Fool’s Tongue swimming within his consciousness, the voice is silent. The only thing Astarion feels is pleasure. Lust. Want. And openly; he openly wants to pleasure himself. And by the Gods, does it feel good.

He pulls up his shirt with the opposite hand to expose more of his abdomen and takes a few experimental jerks of his length. They're soft and slow; unhurried movements as he bathes in the pleasure rushing over his body. His eyes slip closed as he gives himself over to the sensation, hips bucking up each time his thumb passes his frenulum. Behind his closed lids he sees Tav again, kneeling between his legs, ready to take him within her inviting mouth. He moans wantonly as he focuses for a moment on his tip, trying to replicate the feeling of her suckling the head of him.

The door to the washroom opens, jolting Astarion from his thoughts. He makes no effort to cover himself, but instead waits patiently on the bed for Tav to discover the scene awaiting her. She exits the bathroom, running a towel through her hair, seemingly unaware of what has been occurring during her absence.

“I was thinking maybe we could mingle a bit with the others before calling it a night,” Tav suggests. She stands before the room's mirror, running a hand through her dampened locks. “How does that sound, Astar-” The rest of her sentence dies back in her throat as she observes him laying on the bed. “Oh,” is all she manages; a soft, strangled sound rising up from her chest.

He pants as he looks her over; she's wearing a simple, short beige dress. No brassiere, so her breasts fill the top of the dress naturally. It cinches at the waist with two drawstrings, while the rest flares out. The hem of the dress comes to right above her mid thighs, and Astarion swallows the sudden uptake in saliva pooling within his mouth. His cock twitches in his palm. “Y-you suggested I go to the shops,” he tries to explain. “Find something to help ease my trepidation.”

“I guess it was a success.” Tav replies, stepping closer. “I don't think I've ever seen you like this.”

Astarion catches a true blush rising to her cheeks as she studies him. As she stands before him, the scent of her arousal dances below his nose, and he groans. “It was, very,” he answers. “That d-dress is… nice,” he adds.

Tav smiles, stepping before him. “Is it?” she asks in a sultry tone. She grabs the hem of the dress and begins slowly pulling it up her thighs. “What about it do you like?”

Visions of her riding his lap flood his mind's eye. Astarion tosses his head back as he envisions taking her from behind, against the wall, on the floor – animalistic mating rituals between them both; rough, hard, fast. He can't help but suck in a sharp breath as he opens his eyes again to meet Tav’s gaze. He tries to answer her but no sound comes out.

With a smirk, she climbs onto the bed over him, hovering just above his cock. “What about the dress do you like, Astarion?” Tav reiterates. She's sure to leave her hips as far away from his hand as possible; she's aware of his intimacy issues, how delicate this situation is. She leans over him to place chaste kisses over his forehead. She smiles against his skin as he resumes tugging at himself with soft jerks of his hand.

“The convenience,” Astarion replies in a whisper. His desire is mounting, threatening to burn out of control unless release finds him soon. Tav laughs, and briefly drops her hips over the hand pumping his cock. They both moan as his knuckles brush between her slick, sending Astarion's mind reeling. “You're… you're n-not wearing-”

Tav nips gently at the pale elf’s ears, reveling in the instinctive bucking of his hips into her core. “No, I'm not,” she teases. She feels Astarion shudder beneath her and she licks the shell of his ear, moving quickly down to kiss the underside of his jaw. Tav brushes her center over his fingers again, this time deliberately passing over the tip of him.

He swallows thickly as a gasp escapes his parted lips. As hot as the thought of Tav riding his cock makes him, the shackles of his subconscious are threatening to yank his chain. “I can't, not all the way,” he pleads. Ghastly hands are threatening to enclose around the column of his throat. “Just this, please.”

Tav pulls away from him momentarily, her brow knit in concern. She studies his eyes – ruby red gems hooded over in lust. She nods, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Just this, then,” she says reassuringly.

Astarion sighs in relief and continues stroking himself in earnest, knuckles brushing now and again against her sex. He groans as her arousal mingles with his, slickening the palm of his hand to create a luscious glide. “Gods, how I wish I could,” he groans out.

“Could what?” Tav teases. Her breasts are pushing against his chest as it heaves with labored breath. She returns attention back to his ears, licking along its shell to nip gently at the tip.

Astarion's eyes roll to the back of his head as his body convulses in pleasure. “T-take you,” he admits through a shuddered breath. He twists his hand over the head of his cock in a specific rhythm, pulling a guttural groan from the back of his throat. “I think about it often.”

“Do you?” Tav raises a hand to cup the back of his head. She leans over, bringing her mouth close to his ear. “So do I,” she whispers. “It's not fair, you know. Having experienced you prior. Only to be cut off and denied any more.”

“You're one to talk,” he replies. He stares up at Tav, his mouth hanging agape. “D-do you think it's any easier for me? To want so carnally, only to have to deny myself?” He slides a hand up her thigh to hold her waist, guiding her down onto his core. They both sigh at the sensation as he takes the same hand and now threads it through her hair, pushing their foreheads together. “To see how the others look at you, knowing I cannot yet claim you for myself. It's… maddening,” he breathes against her lips.

Tav sighs. “Yet, here I am… in your lap. And not theirs.” She captures his lips in a chaste kiss, though Astarion surges forward. She slackens her jaw to allow him better access; like a man starved he explores the warm cavern of her mouth, tongue intertwining with hers.

He breaks the kiss with a pull of her bottom lip. “I promise that one day I will,” he speaks against her lips. Astarion pumps himself faster, feeling the coil behind his navel wind tighter. “And when I do, you’re not to leave my bed for days.”

Tav pulls her head back, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “Days?” she reiterates, feigning innocence. “Do you wish to mate me, Astarion?” 

His back suddenly arches off the bed, a gasp slipping past his lips. His knuckles brush against her sex again. “Yes,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Fully, properly, lavishly.” He's babbling now. Logic escaping him, replaced by a tempting carpet of depraved carnal lust that threatens to unravel at the seams.

Tav kisses him gently again. “Should I tell you a little secret?” she asks. She doesn't wait for a response before continuing. Sliding her face again to Astarion’s ear, she says quietly, “What if I were to tell you that you already have me?”

He blinks up at her in bewilderment. “H-how would that be?” he stammers. “I've barely done anything. I can hardly touch you without-”

“Because it's you,” Tav explains. “It's you I think of when I'm alone.” She shakes her head. “No one else.”

Astarion rushes forward again, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. “...The Gods truly made you just to ruin me,” he says, pulling away with a huff. He closes his eyes as he twists his wrist over the swollen tip of his length again, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

“Are you close?” She speaks softly to him, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his cheek. “Would telling you how good you are to me help?”

The coil winds tighter in his lower belly at her praise. He hums, cock twitching in his palm, pre-fluid now gathering at his tip. “A-almost,” Astarion stammers again. “M-my ears, touch them again, please.”

With a giggle, Tav dips her head into the crook of his neck, kissing along his skin leading up to his ear. She rubs at his other with her opposite hand, lavishing delicate attention to each of their tips. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are when you reach your peak, Astarion?” she pants into his ear. “The way your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp, how your eyes roll to the back of your head.” She watches him throw his head back, his hand picking up speed as he strokes himself. Tav dips her head again to his neck, nipping gently at the exposed column of skin.

“I'm going… if you keep, a-ah,” Astarion insists, breathing ragged. His chest is heaving, the influence of the Fool’s Tongue and overwhelming lust threatening to consume him. He's on the edge, right at the precipice, almost there, just a touch more-

Tav drops her hips over him again and he seizes, hips bucking wilding up to meet her. She latches onto his neck and sucks, hard enough that he knows a mark will be present by morning. Suddenly Astarion is falling over the cliff, mouth dropping open in a drawn out groan. His vision blanks, thick ropes of his release paint his lower belly as he jerks himself through the last of his orgasm.

She kisses the tip of his nose as she climbs off, picking her towel up from off the floor. Astarion lay on the bed panting, the room still spinning around him. As he comes to, he opens his eyes to meet Tav, who holds out the towel to him. “Did that feel good?” she asks, curiously.

He nods before replying, “Quite. I've used Fool’s Tongue before, but it was nothing like this.”

“Hmm,” she hums as he takes the towel from her. “Perhaps I should join you, next time?”

He huffs a quick laugh as he wipes the release of his belly, giving Tav a genuine smile. “That would certainly be something.”

[sunniepoo]

jj had spent a fair amount of time doing odd jobs all over different states but when his stay in an isolated,closed off community extends longer than expected, he can’t help but notice you; preachers daughter

when the storm outside brewed further, jj knew that he wouldn’t be able to travel for a while until everything was cleared up. the rough clash of the branches against the paley tinted window filled the air reminded him of the ongoing war of weathers outside, his eyes drifted into the endless fields of grass occasionally having a few buildings and houses adorned along the way tinted with a rough grey through the stained windows

he was lucky to have found refuge, the local preacher offering up his home to stay in while the storm calms down and he continues to do his work around town - fixing pipes and leaky sinks to cars and rundown trucks

different, everything here was different - it was as if the place was drowning in an endless silence gradually sucking the life out of the people but they didn’t seem to mind, mumbling on something about this is the way god had wanted them to live. it terrified him to start, being stuck somewhere like this; despite all his struggles back home in kildare at least it had life, friends,colour but the pay was quite generous and a couple weeks more couldn’t hurt him

“storms creating a right mess” the older man speaks, he was dressed in a dark cloak covering his body with a large cross necklaces adorning his neck. “s’gonna take a while for all the roads to clear up” jj replies, he would be lying if didn’t say the man in front of him didn’t intimidate him - he possessed the same loneliness that swarmed the rest of this town but he had offered up his home, gave him a hot meal; so he couldn’t be all that bad

at first he didn’t even see you, it wasn’t until the soft creak of the floorboard, he saw your small frame hidings behind the wall, watching him. the older man watched jj’s eyes shift, following at what was catching his attention “oh! i forgot to introduce you to our new guest honey” he says ushering you over to where they were standing “this young man will be staying with us for some time while he works. go on say hi” while he explains there is a slight look in his eye telling her it was okay. jj wasn’t going to bite

he didn’t miss the slight glint in your eyes as you locked eyes, your palm reaching out to meet his, it was a short handshake but he couldn’t forget the way your gentle hands gripped his, the tips of your fingers stroking against his “hi” it was barely a sound, moreso a squeak

cute. he thought, you looked nice - the kind of nice he thought was only in the movies, the kind of nice that would rather let the spider free than kill it

“well i’ll be off” your father interrupts the silence, pulling you into a quick hug before patting jj lightly on the shoulder “some work over at millers’ house” he begins to pack his stuff and leave before letting out a ‘don’t cause any trouble’ mostly aimed at you. mostly

it was silent for the most part, you’d run off to your room while he gathered his equipment and started working at the faulty sink in the kitchen. the long hours of the day seemed to fly by, he carried on as usual occasionally stopping for an odd break here and there and that’s when he saw you

you’d left your room door slightly open, sitting in between the gap watching him quietly “y’know you could come sit over here” he announces, hoping to have caught your attention “don’t bite, m’promise” the southern ting in his accent escaping between words. the light patter of your steps filled the air, replacing the once ominous silence, you’d decided to sit right opposite him, knees brought under your chin with big eyes staring into him

“are you hungry” the question comes very direct and forward, eyes never leaving his silently watching his every move. you knew your answer as the blonde lets out a cheeky grin, standing up to head towards the kitchen

what you were supposed to do was fix him a nice dinner and be in your way back to your room; what you were supposed to do was ask simple questions about his life and let him get on with his work - what you weren’t supposed to do was be sat on your kitchen counter with him working his way between your legs!

you didn’t even know how it happened, he was just so funny and he kept making you laugh and every time he spoke you found your eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips and the to his hands and the to the slight bulge of his cock in his pants. you hadn’t meant to fall into the temptation, if anyone found out oh god! you’d be in so much trouble, you’d be the talk of town

but something in you couldn’t find it in you to stop as his lips travelled down your body, loosely lifting your dress up to kiss between your thighs, kissing on top of your clothed pussy

“jay-jayj” the breathy moan that leaves your mouth is muffled by the patter of the rain against the window “n-not here, somewhere else” roughly grabbing the tops of his messy hair bringing him up from underneath your dress. you didn’t even have the self control to resist him - you’d been waiting for far too long for someone with life to come to this shitty little town and here he was in a 6ft blonde package.

he’d grabbed your hand locking your fingers together before dragging you over to the guest room he’d been sleeping in, gently nudging you to lay down on the bed. it was heaven, the way your lips collided against each other while his knees pealed your legs open. you could feel his hand sneaking down, slipping under the waistband of your panties, fingers rubbing slowly against your clit eliciting a loud moan from you

you felt shame as you looked at the walls decorated with framed pictures of mother mary, the rosary laying on the desk. how have come to do the one thing you’ve been told not to do? but it was so hard, trapped in this town where everyone had something to say about everyone, you couldn’t help but wonder - if there was something more outside the fields of grass, something like him

the same him whose tongue was down your throat “you sure about this sweatpea” he breathes out, mouth disconnecting from yours - panting slowly “cause you know once this happens…. there’s no going back” you couldn’t help but whimper at his words, giving him a small nod

“words baby.. words” he says before diving into the crook of your neck planting soft kisses along the bottom of your ear “mm yes jay yes yes yes” you were so so desperate to feel the spark, the colour, the life you’ve always wanted and if you passed on it now - it would never happen

the whine in your voice was all it took for him to pull at the straps of the top of your dress dragging it off you, letting your tits spill out leaving you in nothing but your panties

“jesuuus christ” as soon as he says that he doesn’t miss the subtle pout on your face at the name. right he would not approve “m’sorry babe” the apology is followed by the plaster of kisses down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your aching core “just got me acting crazy with all this. fuck . in front of me

you were soaked through and through thighs all sticky from your juices, “she really wants this…huh” it was cruel really how long he was taking, you were so tempted to just shove his face down there already “don’t worry papa s’gonna fix all of this” he’d already began to pull of your panties, mouth latching immediately on to your clit

“so fuckin’ good” he mumbles, words only making you more desperate “ah ah s’good jay” you moan out, hands roughly grabbing at the messy mop on top his head “so good” your pleasure only seemed to increase as his ringed fingers make their way into your needy little hole

the loud squelch that filled the air as his fingers piston roughly in and out of your soaking cunt, you were sure your juices were spread all over his mouth but that didn’t seem to stop him one bit, he was like a man starved the way his tongue flattened against your sensitive core, it had you morning like a kitten in heat

“oh god oh god oh god” as much as you hated using the lords name in vain, you couldn’t help as he fastened his face adding another finger inside your poor little hole. the blonde smirks mumbling “not god baby…..just me” your legs started to clamp lightly around his head, grinding your core against his face. you’d never be able to forget the way he made you writhe and tremble in his hold just from his mouth

you’d heard about it before, in old books that were thrown away for being ‘sent by the devil’ the feeling in your stomach - it was like a rough knot was tied in your stomach slowly building up “jay jay jay” you squeal as he moves his fingers impossibly faster “please jay ngh- need it uh- so bad jay” it was almost pathetic how needy you were for him but it only seemed to egg him on further

he was in his own form of bliss, jeans roughly grinding against the mattress beneath him, you were so perfect - he felt his cock throb harder than it ever has the moment he looked at you writhing against him “yeah that’s it” he breathily lets out “g’nna cum f’me baby” pillowy lips latching onto your fit sucking as harsh as possible while his fingers hit spots you’d never even dreamed of

“yes uh- yes ngh-yes” you were blessed to have your home at such a distance form town, it wouldn’t take much guessing to make out what was happening through the walls. the soft squeak was followed with a wave of sensations, a confusing pleasure taking out your body, causing almost pornographic moans to fill the room

overridden by pleasure your legs couldn’t stop shaking and much to jj’s surprise hot spurts of his own cum coated the front of his jeans as he came undone. the harsh pants were the only noise for some time before the troublesome blond came up lying next you

“did s’good babe” placing a firm kiss on your forehead pulling you into his arm, drawing soothing circles on your back as your realise the reality of what you’ve done. you were overridden with guilt but not because of what you’ve done but the lack of regret you have

you feel a weight go off the bed as jj gets up, arms reaching out to pick you up and bring you over to the bathroom. gentle, it was all so soft - it made you think about when he’d be gone, how you’d miss this, you’d be still stuck in this town with the same people, get married to someone you barely know and definitely don’t love. it made you press yourself as close as possible to him, soaking in his presence

and later that evening when you lay in his lap,his back pressed against the old couch as his hand strokes through the roots of your hair “m’gonna miss you so much” your hands travelled to wrap tightly around his arm like he’d be gone this second if you let go “don’ know what you saying sweetcheeks” he laughs, bringing a sweet kiss to the tops of your head “like you know” you breathe out, clearly melancholic about the situation “when you gotta go” eyes turning up to look at him

you didn’t expect him to say much, it was the truth and the both of you knew it - no one could change that. the palm of his hand grazes gently against your cheeks as he begins to speak, eyes locking with your intently “ion know a clue how m’gonna do it but your coming with me” his mouth leans down to place a deep kiss against your lips pulling you up against him

“really” the excitement in your voice was obvious, you typically would have thought he was bluffing but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes proved otherwise. he was serious. “really. gonna get you out of here” it was as if he was also telling himself “ find you somewhere nice. somewhere where you belong…kay’ sweets” the words eased your restless mind. maybe he was right

and in that moment jj knew that no matter what, he was taking you with him. he had no clue how he was gonna do this but he knew it was happening and he’d rather stay here and die than leave you

[ncis-nerd]

Unforgettable Rain

Boss Wanda Maximoff x College Student Reader , Wanda x Nat , Slight Nat x Reader

about: wanda asks y/n to come in on her day off, to "file papers". is that it or did she want something more?

secret untold au

The rain trickled down your window, you had it slightly cracked open. You didn’t want the rain to come inside but you still wanted to be able to hear it.

You loved the sound of rain, it was so comforting. It reminded you of your childhood when you would go outside in the rain with your older sister and father. You’d dance like no one was watching, it was so fun. You missed them so much everyday.

Especially when it rains, it was never quiet when it rained, not only because of the sound of the rain but also because of the laughter and giggles that escaped their lips when you’d dance so freely.

You sat curled up, drinking a warm cup of hot chocolate as you watched the rain. That’s when your phone got an alert. You got a message from Wanda, your boss.

Since that first day she would send you on tasks outside of her office, it felt like she was avoiding you. Her face once so warm and welcoming now felt so cold and distant. You were a little hurt by this, but you still had to do your job. Even if the two of you didn’t get along.

(5:38 P.M.) W. Maximoff: “Hey Y/N, are you able to come into the office? I know it is a bit late so I understand if you cannot.”

(5:39 P.M.) Y/N: “No, no it’s fine. I’m not doing anything, I can come in.”

(5:40 P.M.) W Maximoff: “Perfect, thank you darling.”

You threw on a hoodie, and changed into presentable pants before leaving for the office. Your mind still went back to your first day where you made a fool of yourself in front of your new boss. What a great way to meet her, by falling for her on the steps outside her own building.

When you look up, you find yourself at the office. It’s a quick walk from your apartment as you don’t live that far from the office. You noticed that the rain had stopped when you left your house. You however, failed to bring an umbrella with you. It had slipped your mind that the rain could start back up when you left your house.

You knocked on her door, “Wanda? It’s me.” You spoke softly. She opened her door to let you in. She wasn’t alone in here, there was a woman sitting on her couch. Not just any woman, the woman from her painting. Her wife. She was wearing a suit, her red hair in curls, it looked so free and loose.

The woman noticed your staring, that’s when her raspy voice spoke up “Hi there, my name is Natasha. My wife told me about you, Y/N Y/L/N right?” You nodded, her voice was so hypnotizing, you bit your lip.

“So, I hope my wife hasn’t made you feel uncomfortable but the reason I called you in on your day off was to ask you if you could file these papers for me?” She asked, handing you a box of papers in it. You nodded, reaching for the box. Her lips opened but no words came out, it looked as if she had more she wanted to say.

You found it a bit strange that your boss had asked you to come in on your day off just to file papers, especially since there were other employees that could do that task for her You shrugged it off and got to filing.

You felt Wanda and Natasha's eyes glancing at each other, as if they were having a silent conversation.

That's when Natasha finally spoke, Wanda's eyes darken. “So, Y/N.. I know we haven't known you that long but do you happen to be occupied next Friday evening?” Natasha hummed.

This sparked your curiosity as you had no plans that day, or at all. You were an introvert who happened to protect your peace a little too much so now you hardly have a social life.

The two women waited for your response. “No, nothing that I could think of. Why?” You asked.

“Well, my wife wanted to ask you if you would join us at this dinner party for their company. It's a business party.” Natasha's raspy voice spoke.

Really? They wanted you there? You were just some new intern but this warmed your heart that Wanda wanted you there.

“I-I would love that! But what should I wear? What's the dress code?” You stuttered, your anxiety running through your head.

What if you embarrassed yourself there too? What if your clothes didn't match the vibe? Your thoughts were racing. Natasha and Wanda could sense your anxiety.

Natasha quickly silenced those thoughts. She brought her thumb to stroke your cheek. “Well it's moreso just dressing professional but if it would make you feel comfortable, you can match with us, Detka.” Natasha smiled. Her touch was so warm, it made you feel better.

Detka? You scrunched your nose trying to figure out the meaning behind the foreign word. “Don't worry about that, sweetheart. Natasha and I will be wearing burgundy. You're welcome to match us if you want, darling.” Wanda spoke up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded and went back to filing the papers like your boss asked. After a while, Wanda checks her watch. “So late already?” Wanda spoke, shutting her computer.

You looked up as the two women packed up their stuff. “Thank you so much for coming in darling.” Wanda sighed, rubbing her temple.

Natasha frowned, sensing her wife's incoming headache. That's when you noticed the rain had started back up. Great.

"Are you okay?” You can see Natasha mouth this to Wanda. Wanda nods in response as they walk with you, out of the building.

“Oh gosh, do you see this rain Nat?” Wanda spoke, an ounce of concern in her face. Natasha nodded, “Yeah. Say, Y/N how are you getting home?” Natasha asked you.

“Oh I'm walking, I don't live too far.” You responded, gathering your things as you handed Wanda the box of newly filed papers.

“In this rain? Nonsense, let us give you a drop.” Natasha hummed. She didn’t want you to get wet or possibly sick in this terrible rain.

“Oh, it's okay you don't have to.” You immediately responded. You knew that it was a short walk and nothing new as you have walked in the rain (and danced in it) multiple times.

“Darling, we are giving you a ride. End of story.” Wanda spoke firm but you could tell that she just cared about you. Even behind that wall she ahd built up.

[harunayuuka2060]

Professor Vargas: No. Definitely not. I would rather build her a house than have her join a dorm full of guys.

Crowley: But... That would add up to our expenses-

Professor Trein: WHICH we could easily afford, headmage.

Professor Crewel: Yes. I agree.

Sam: Look at us already have taken a liking to our little imp!

Professor Vargas: Ha! Yes! The moment I saw her, I claimed her as my daughter!

Crowley: ...

Crowley: *clears throat* Very well. Uh... While we build a house for her and her son, she could stay in the little tent I lent her-

The professors: GIVE HER A ROOM.

Crowley: ...Okay.

Crowley: I suppose the Pop Music Club would not complain if we used their club room for this purpose.

Professor Crewel: Your house will take a month to complete, so you will need to stay in this classroom for the time being.

F!MC: Thank you, professor. And I apologize for causing so much trouble.

F!MC: If there's anything I can do to pay your kindness back, please do tell me.

Toddler Riddle: Yeah. I will help too.

Professor Crewel: There's no need. I will be assigning a housewarden to help you in setting up this room.

F!MC: Th-Thank you, professor!

Professor Crewel: Don't mention it. Have a nice day, pup. *then takes his leave*

F!MC: ...

F!MC: *lets out a sigh of relief* *then smiles at her son* Isn't this great, Riddle?

Toddler Riddle: *nods* Mama doesn't need to knock on people's doors anymore.

F!MC: *hugs him close* Yes. You're right.

Kalim and Lilia: Me! ME!

The other housewardens: ...

Professor Crewel: I am actually thinking of appointing Rosehearts for this job.

Lilia: Crewel, the room they're using is the Pop Music Club's.

Kalim: Yeah! And I want to be friends with her!

Idia: Well, Kalim could definitely buy some furniture.

Lilia: Yes! And I'll buy her son toys!

Professor Crewel: ...

Professor Crewel: Rosehearts, what do you think?

Riddle: I don't mind.

Azul: Are not you appointing him since the lady's son shares his name?

Professor Crewel: Yes. That's the reason.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Thank you for accompanying me, Cater and Trey.

Trey: We want to meet the lady too.

Cater: I met her in person, and she is really nice. Though it felt like I was talking to someone older.

Trey: *chuckles* She's a mother. Of course, you would feel that way.

Riddle: Ah. We're here.

Riddle, Trey, and Cater: *noticed that the door was slightly open and decided to peek inside*

F!MC: *cuddling her son while reading him a recipe out of a cookbook*

Toddler Riddle: Mama? Do we have to follow everything in this?

F!MC: Hmm... I think we can change the shape of the eggs and carrots.

Toddler Riddle: I'll make them stars.

F!MC: Oh! That will be great, Riddle! Do you want to cook it yourself? Mama will make you mini-kitchen utensils!

Toddler Riddle: Yes, please.

Riddle, Trey, and Cater: ...

*The three decided to move steps back.*

Cater and Trey: *communicates through eye-contact*

Trey: 'Mini-kitchen utensils.'

Cater: 'Yes. And that's so adorable!'

*meanwhile*

Riddle: *his mother issues are trembling*

Riddle: Professor Crewel, I would certainly appreciate it if you would not assign me chores related to assisting the lady.

Professor Crewel: Why? Is there a problem?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: N-No...

Professor Crewel: I was hoping you would be friends with her because you are the same age and can serve as a role model for her to strive more in the future.

Professor Crewel: In any circumstance, I would delegate responsibility to another person. Do not worry.

Riddle: ...

*Back in Heartslabyul*

Trey: Riddle? What happened to you? Why did you run?

Riddle: I had a pressing task to complete.

Cater: Well, Trey? Have you seen how happy they were when we gave them the mini-kitchen utensils? 🥺

Cater: Ridz said thank you and called me "Uncle Cater".

Trey: *chuckles* Yeah. You almost squealed because of that.

Cater: By the way, Riddle? MC was looking forward to meeting you.

Riddle: Huh? Why?

Trey: She's interested to know what our Riddle is like. You know, someone her son can look up to?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Maybe next time, Trey.

Riddle: Definitely...

Trey and Cater: ...

[bunnliix]

When Eight Becomes Nine - Chapter Thirteen

Okie so I know I said this chapter was fluffy, I lied. It took a turn and I'm sorry but not sorry?

Pairing: Ateez x 9th member!reader  Summary: Part one of Ateez taking y/n out for a fun day in Seoul! wc: 2.8k AU: a/b/o  Genre: Fluff/Angst  warnings: anxiety, fear of heights, panic attacks/almost panic attacks, sexist and misogynistic thoughts (Women/omegas belong in the kitchen, etc.), alphas being assholes, mentions of fighting, violence, insults masterlist

Wooyoung had decided the one place she had to visit was Lotte World Tower, because of course they have to start out at the tallest place imaginable. It didn’t take them long to arrive at the tower, and as y/n looked upwards, she felt herself get a little woozy. Yunho, who had been keeping an eye on her the entire ride, stepped up behind her, his hands coming to land on her shoulders as he leaned down close to her.

“Are you sure you’re okay to do this? You can back out and none of us will be mad. I think you know this, but Seonghwa is afraid of heights too, so he and Mingi will be going somewhere else in the area while we spend time up at the top of the tower.” Yunho informed her, keeping his voice at a whisper while the others were occupied talking to each other.

“I’m okay. But if it’s too much, can I leave and come back down to the ground floor?” She asked the alpha behind her.

“Of course. If it gets to be too much for you, come to me and tap me twice and I’ll take you down right away, no questions asked.” He told her, squeezing her shoulders before pulling back and letting go of the smaller omega.

This was when the others, minus the duo that Yunho had mentioned, came back over to the two, asking if they were ready to head in. After quickly nodding, Hongjoong guided the seven inside, bypassing the line and heading straight for the elevator to the observation deck. Wooyoung immediately took his place beside her once they were all situated in the elevator, reaching out to grab her hand as the ride up to the top quickly went by. She was dragged out of the elevator right to the windows to look over the city, holding her breath for a moment as she looked out at Seoul, amazed at how far the city sprawled outwards.

“Why are you gripping my hand so hard?” Wooyoung asked, whining towards the end.

“I’m sorry, just a bit uncomfortable with so many people here, it’s a lot for me.” She told the older man, not fully lying, but not telling him the actual reason.

“Oh, baby omega,” Wooyoung cooed, pulling her in for a hug, “It’s okay. We’re here, you’ll be okay.” He comforted her, which helped slightly, but until she was back on the ground, she wouldn’t be back to being fully okay.

San wandered over to the two, smiling at seeing the two omegas hugging. The beta wrapped his arms around them, rocking them back and forth, which made y/n’s nerves become even further on edge. She could see in the corner of her eye that Yeosang and Hongjoong were all milling around one of the windows, seeming to be discussing something with serious faces. Yunho and Jongho were nowhere to be seen, at least not within her eyesight. Before she realized it, Wooyoung and San were pulling her over to the part of the deck that had the glass flooring. She tried to calm her breathing, though it wasn’t working as well as she would have hoped. The beta/omega duo were insistent on taking her over to stand on it so they could take pictures of her, and so she could take the “cool looking down at the ground” photos, or at least that’s what her brain supplied to her as what they said. Her head was elsewhere, trying to figure out what to do, and what would cause the least amount of a scene.

They stopped pulling her, and she looked down to see that she was on top of the glass flooring, and her instinct was to jump away, but Wooyoung held onto her arm which stopped her.

“We’re gonna take photos, stop being so impatient to go and see the rest of the building!” He said to her, a smile on his face.

“I’m good, I don’t need photos, Wooyoung.” She told the other omega, trying to get her arm free from his grip.

“Of course you need photos! It’s your first time here!” He told her.

She saw Yunho pop up from the corner of her eye, and start heading towards the trio. She knew she had to stand up for herself, and make her fears known, but she hadn’t wanted to disappoint Wooyoung as he was so excited to take her here. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage to tell Wooyoung.

“Wooyoung, I’m afraid of heights and the longer you keep me here on the glass, the more likely I am to have a panic attack or get sick or pass out, or all three. Please let me go.” She told her fellow omega, closing her eyes to avoid looking down as she normally would in this type of situation.

The result was immediate, Wooyoung’s arm dropping away from her own, and a set of arms pulling her from where she stood. She opened her eyes to see Jongho was the one who had pulled her away, before Yunho could get close.

“Are you okay?” The alpha asked her.

“I’m doing better now. I won’t be okay until I’m down on the ground again. Heights are not my thing, and glass flooring is definitely not my thing.” She told the alpha, taking a deep breath before stepping away to have some space, the youngest alpha allowing her that space, and San stopping Wooyoung from crowding her once again. The looks on their faces displaying how bad they felt for forcing her into a situation that she clearly feared, and that they were so hell-bent on making sure she experienced it, that they didn’t think to stop and ask if she wanted to do it at all.

“Why didn't you say that you didn’t like heights? I wouldn’t have brought you here, I would have taken you somewhere else? Did you not trust us enough? I’m sorry, y/n.” Wooyoung asked, apologizing in the end.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice either, y/n. I never meant to cause you anxiety with my actions, and I’m sorry that I didn’t notice your anxiety and reluctance and instead was the cause of more anxiety for you.” San said, as he and Wooyoung bowed in apology to you.

“I didn’t want to ruin your good mood, Wooyoung. You looked so excited to take me here, and I figured I could deal with the anxiety until we were back down on ground level again. I’m not the biggest fan of heights, so these kinds of things are a bit scary to me, and glass floors cause me a lot of anxiety.” Y/n explained to the two.

Darling, you could have said something to us, we would have understood.” San said to her, his voice having just a hint of sadness in it at her words.

“Yeah! If you had said you couldn’t do this, I would have found somewhere else for us to visit, I would never want to force you to do something you’re not comfortable with just because it was somewhere I wanted to take you. So please, tell us no when we suggest things you don’t like?” Wooyoung followed up San’s words with a pleading look in his eyes that also spoke to the regret he felt for suggesting they come here.

“I promise I will speak up next time, okay? Today was just such a great day after all of the fighting earlier, I didn’t want to bring the mood down again by shooting your suggestion down.” Y/n said.

“I told her that if she needed to get out of here, all she had to do was come and tap me twice and I’d take her back down. She had an out, Wooyoung, if she felt this was all too much.” Yunho spoke up, reminding them all that he was here.

Wooyoung nodded at Yunho, seemingly feeling a little bit better knowing that one of the others knew about this and had a way to help y/n out of this situation should she have needed it. Jongho only pulled the smallest omega closer to him, feeling touchy and protective in a way that normally he wouldn’t, as the others usually were the ones to feel this way. She looked up at him and giggled, only adjusting herself so that she was a bit more comfortable, letting the youngest alpha hold onto her for as long as he felt he needed to.

A couple minutes later, the remaining two wandered over to the five, wondering what was going on. “What’s going on here?” Yeosang asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Wooyoung and San dragged y/n over to the flooring here only to almost make her have a panic attack. Because she’s afraid of heights, which the glass floor would only make worse.” Jongho said bluntly, knowing it would only result in consequences for the duo.

“Oh,” Hongjoong stayed quiet for a moment, “You two, in my room once we’re back home, yes?” The smile on his face sent chills down everyone’s spines, as they knew that smile on the pack alpha’s face meant nothing good.

This marked the end of their trip, as Hongjoong quickly ushered everyone back to the elevator to go back down to ground level, not wanting to cause anymore anxiety to his newest member. Seonghwa and Mingi met them outside of the tower, both carrying more than a few bags between the two of them. Both of them noticed Jongho’s closeness to the sole female member of the group and Seonghwa noted it to ask about later.

“Are we ready to go to the next place?” Mingi asked, looking at them.

“We’re ready to go. Yunho, it’s your place next, right?” Yeosang answered, looking at his fellow member.

The golden retriever of a man nodded, confirming that his chosen place was next. “I promise it’s not another tower, and technically this is Mingi’s favorite place too, but he picked another one so we had a bit of variety.” He told the youngest omega.

The journey seemed to speed by, even with the traffic on the way to wherever Yunho had decided on taking her. It very quickly came clear once the car came closer to Han River, dropping them off where directed to by the tallest member. Once all nine were out of the car, Yunho took the lead, directing them to an area set out for them, as the security members that had been guarding it for them left at the man’s command.

“You set this up? How did you get this done so quickly?” y/n asked Yunho, surprised at what he had arranged so quickly.

“I had some help from our security crew plus some other friends of mine, who were nice to set this all up for us,” Yunho explained, “You should dig in, before it gets cold.” 

He directed everyone, but especially y/n, as the platter laid out was a lot of Korean fast food that he thought she might want to try. Some of it she had tried before, while some of it was completely new to her, but she didn’t hesitate to try at least a bite of everything. The most foreign thing for her might have been the corn on pizza, as it seems like such an odd thing to have on pizza, but after having a bite, she could see where it fit in with the other ingredients.

She enjoyed the time with the eight men outside of the company and the group’s own dorm, the atmosphere was much more relaxed and casual, and she let herself relax and enjoy this down time. Y/n knew she wouldn’t get much more of it from tomorrow onwards.

“Are you excited to get to do all of the ‘idol things’ we do?” San asked y/n, a smile on his face as he laid down on the grass next to her, having moved over from the main group.

“Yes, but also no,” she answered, “I’m excited, but I’ve seen how busy life can get as an idol, so I’m going to miss all of my freetime.”

San nodded, the beta knowing that she wasn’t wrong, Ateez never really stopped working, not for long anyways. They did take breaks when the members’ heats and ruts occurred, but other than that rest was almost nonexistent.

“You’re not wrong, but I think you’ll find the work to be enjoyable. Plus you still have to get introduced to Atiny, which will be fun. Oh, and they’ve been working on other things too!” The beta enthused, rambling on excitedly about the plans he knew were happening in the near future, as well as where she’d fit in with everything.

At the sound of footsteps behind them, San looked up as y/n turned around, finding that Yunho was the source.

“Yunho-yah, what’s up?” San asked the dancer.

“I’m here to steal y/nnie away from you for a bit.” Yunho replied, making the beta pout.

“But I was just getting some time with her,” San whined, making y/n giggle.

“I’m sure Yunho won’t keep me for long,” she told the man, before getting up to stand next to the tall grey-haired man.

“Fine,” San said, “but come back soon.”

Yunho led y/n away, towards a quieter part of the area that also happened to be more secluded as well. It was a bit of a walk, so they filled the time talking about funny stories from their childhood.

“-and then the gym teacher picked him up and dropped him in the trash can. All because he joked about it and then didn’t pay attention when Mr. Mercer was talking.” Y/n told Yunho, causing the older man to laugh.

“I don’t think I have any stories like that from my school days, but I have many stories about Mingi-yah.” He told y/n, chuckling to himself as he’s reminded of more than a few things Mingi would be embarrassed about if y/n was told about them.

They were engrossed in their own little world, chatting and giggling until y/n ran into a wall, knocking her backwards.

“Ah yes, a stupid omega who can’t watch where she’s going.” The wall, which was actually an alpha, sneered.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Y/n apologized to the rude alpha, disregarding the insult to not escalate the situation.

However, Yunho didn’t have the same thought. “You shouldn’t have been standing on the sidewalk, and she’s not stupid,” he said.

“I can stand wherever I want, and keep your fucking omega at home, where she belongs,” the alpha shot back at Yunho.

“Yunho, just let it go, it’s fine.” Y/n tried to convince the idol, not wanting to get him in trouble, or have the shithead alpha get any more violent.

“He’s insulting you, I won’t let that stand,” Yunho replied, before looking back up at the alpha in front of them.

A crowd had started to gather, making y/n feel unsettled, knowing that Yunho could get recognized soon if he hadn’t been already. And she didn’t yet have any of the other’s numbers, so she couldn’t reach out to them for help.

“...you really can’t control your omega well, huh? You really should just take her home and leave her in the kitchen. Or better yet, give her to me, and I can show you how a real alpha controls their omega. You obviously don’t like her that much, considering she has no mating bite on her neck.” The alpha continued, and the scent of burnt oranges coming from Yunho only grew stronger. 

Y/n grabbed Yunho’s arm, trying to pull the alpha away from the confrontation. She didn’t want them to get into trouble, plus she wasn’t the person for confrontations with alphas like the one Yunho is about to fight. They never changed their minds, and fighting wouldn’t prove anything. She’s dealt with enough of them to know that they wanted to get a rise out of omegas and anyone they could, while truly believing that omegas were inferior to them.

Yunho tugged his arm out of her hold, moving in front of her and closer to the other alpha.

“Yu, please. It’s not worth it.” She pleaded with the man, who only shook his head.

“You should really listen to the dumb bunny, wouldn’t want to mess up your pretty face.”

That was the final straw for Yunho, and y/n could only watch in horror as the tall alpha practically launched himself at the other man, his arm pulled back ready to throw a punch. 

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[alastor-x-reader-stories]

How about headcanons for luci x reader and alastor x reader where they neglect reader and they have to fix it? I just need some fluffy diabetical sweet hurt-comfort xD if you could please 🙏 ☺️

WAP-BAP-BOOM ALAKAZAM here's a thing. I hope you don't mind I make it pre-relationship because I love me some pining

Lucifer x Reader, Alastor x Reader

Summary: Your friend has been avoiding you lately. You spiral and wonder what you did wrong.

Warnings: Anxiety go brrrrrr. Alastor is a low-key stalker, but not in a creepy way? more like a.... 'i adore you from afar' way. Luci disassociates hardcore. Reader does too.

ALASTOR

Alastor started drifting away when he realized he enjoyed having you around

He couldn't find a twisted justification for it and he just couldn't handle it

He didn't want your soul, he had no real use for you, and yet he wanted you with him

So he pushed you away without much thought.

With no explanation to you, btw

Deer boy mcgee wouldn't be (intentionally) rude or hostile towards you, but certainly more aloof.

Conversations turned into curt greetings and goodbyes

Times spent lounging around in the same room turned into a little wave here and there

Attentive listening to your venting shifted to a 'Well that's not good. Tootaloo!' before he left

The guy didn't even ramble about HIS stuff with you anymore

It hurt.

You didn't know why he was suddenly so distant with you. But surely you did something WRONG, right?

You always do something wrong

So you just had to fix it. But you needed to find out what 'it' was

When you passed by him in the hallway one day, he gave his increasingly-common wave before waltzing right by you-

"Wait, Alastor?"

He glanced at you, tilting his head at an unnatural angle. His smile was too tight.

"Did I....Did I do something wrong?"

His eye twitched.

Absolutely not, he'd think. You could do no wrong in his eyes (though his ethics were slightly askew so that might not mean much)

But you looked absolutely distraught

You were trying to cover it up - you always do - but he could tell.

He watches you a lot

"Of course not, my dear!"

"...why are you avoiding me, then?"

...

Shit.

He didn't have a lie ready and his usual quick wit appears to have failed him

Looking at your eyes. Your lovely, currently tearing up eyes-

No no no no no

He turned his attention to you fully, gently cupping the side of your face in one hand.

"Oh, my dear, no need for the waterworks. You did nothing wrong, I assure you."

"Don't lie to me, please. just- just what did I do? I'll fix it..."

He'd typically murder someone for making you feel like this. However, he was the one making you feel like this so that complicated things.

He leaned down, gently kissing away the forming tears at the corner of your eye.

"Simply...sorting some things out, dearest. You did nothing wrong. I just... Need some space."

Why were you staring at him like that?

Did he say something cruel?

Why was your face such a bright red-

OH.

OH

OH

"Well, i best be off! Let's meet for tea later, yes?"

You numbly agreed and he quickly said another farewell before shadow-travelling to who-knows-where

You gently touched the cheek had had been so gently holding earlier, a small, giddy smile on your lips

"Something to sort out, huh?"

Well. You couldn't wait until he finished that up.

LUCIFER

Lucifer had no intentions of being distant

Unfortunately...that just...kind of happens

Maybe that's why Lillith got sick of him

When you're older than all of humanity, time doesn't quite flow the same for him as it does for you.

Add his tendency to detach himself from everything and that gets even more complicated.

But he was doing so well for a while!

He'd leave his room often, he'd talk to Charlie and the other hotel-people, he'd like. Leave the building sometimes.

Maybe it was because he was doing so well that it seemed to you like he suddenly stopped caring.

Or maybe he was sick of you?

You could be pretty annoying sometimes...

You ramble and hyper-fixate and suck at emoting...

OH SHIT yeah he was...probably sick of you

Several days of being mopey later and Charlie ended up talking with you. When you told her what gives, she pretty much confirmed what you feared.

"AGH! He ALWAYS does this!"

"Hun, take a deep breath. Maybe something happened?" Vaggie said, putting a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder.

Charlie's words already had you spiraling.

He ALWAYS did this?

Was...Lucifer just like that?

Your Luci was like that?

Luckily Nifty happened by at that moment, sweeping up the floor with manic glee.

Her big ol' eye watched the scene and she casually stated

"His majesty hasn't moved for like, four days. I know, I dusted him. He's just staring at the wall like this."

Nifty made her eye go comically larger, mouth pressed into a firm frown. Then her usual expression popped back up and she went back to scrubbing everything.

"....oh." You murmured as Charlie was panicking and screaming how her father was dead.

Vaggie managed to calm her down enough for you to explain what disassociating was.

You had a good amount of experience with it

Charlie proceeded to put her face in her hands and feel horrible.

You went to comfort her, but Vaggie stopped you and motioned to the stairs with a tilt of her head.

Oh....Okay, she got the Charlie and you got the Luci

You scuttled away to Lucifer's room

Lo' and behold, the Nifty was correct.

Kind of.

He wasn't exactly sitting there staring at a wall, but he was hunched over his workdesk with his head in his arms.

You put a hand on his back, between his shoulder blades.

"You okay, Luci?"

It took him a moment to respond, but he did. Looking up at you with rather dull eyes.

Which suddenly turned comically large as he sprang up and flailed about, squishing your face between his hands.

His expression went from numb to panic to absolute rage in a span of a couple seconds and it was giving you whiplash.

"Who made you cry?" He growled..

Who...Oh

Oh yeah you were crying earlier

It was so horribly ironic you laughed, tears spilling down your cheeks. Luci blinked one eye at a time.

Adorable

You explained why you cried- that you thought he was sick of you.

He offered to punch himself in the face.

That made you laugh again and you hugged him without thinking, clinging onto the silly gnome-looking man like you'd be erased if you let go

He returned the gesture in kind.

Lucifer clung onto you, pressing his forehead between your neck and shoulder, laughing in shakey, watery breaths

"What are we even laughing about!?" You cackled, tears still rolling

"No idea but I needed it." Lucifer chuckled. He nuzzled your neck, his breath steadying.

"Thank you, starling." he really needed it.