#you can be older and not have been involved with anyone too

[echodoctor]

I wonder if part of why Siffrin is the party member most willing to let Bonnie do things the others are worried will be too risky or scary for them is because they were more or less on their own from a fairly early age?

The creator of In Stars And Time mentioned once that Siffrin was a teenager when the Northern Island vanished.

I personally assume that he was thirteen. Now, there's wiggle room there- she didn't specify an exact age, just "a teenager". They could have been older.

But since they were trying to play a prank by "running away from home" (for like twenty minutes tops) when the whole thing happened- and over not wanting to eat their veggies, no less- I feel pretty reasonable in assuming that we're talking about someone on the young end of the teenage range here, not like an eighteen year old with the RPG Fantasy World version of a job and a driver's license.

So, thirteen.

And if Bonnie is somewhere around eleven or twelve, that's... not that far off, age-wise.

Siffrin doesn't really seem to have had anyone looking out for them, before. Presumably someone must have helped them at least a little when they first arrived, but I get the feeling it was less "oh no we have to get you a foster family you poor dear!!" and more along the lines of getting directions to the local homeless shelter and food pantry equivalents- probably a House of Change, since caring for those in need seems like the kind of duty a religious institution would have in a pre-modern society, and what we see about Housemaiden duties from Mirabelle and Euphrasie does appear to involve a lot of community outreach and support.

Which is great in terms of "not actually dying", but larger institutions are usually dealing with a lot of things at once and can't provide a lot of careful individual attention. So Siffrin was likely just... figuring out how to be a functional person on their own.

So all of that basically boils down to: I'm not sure Siffrin actually has any idea what the normal amount of responsibility and independence a kid is "supposed" to have is, because they have no memory of ever having an adult who could look out for them in the first place.

They're just mentally referencing what they were doing when they were Bonnie's age and going 'hmm, well that wasn't great but I didn't die or anything... let's make sure they have some adult supervision and reassure them they can ask us for help if they want to, and it'll probably be fine'.

...Which, it turns out, is actually a pretty decent approach here, because despite the party's best efforts Bonnie is still essentially a refugee from a country-wide disaster, and trying to treat them like a kid who's living a completely stable, normal, sheltered life ignores a lot of what they're going through.

They're not trying to make Bonnie's life fit into what a "normal" childhood should be, because they never got to have one. And Bonnie responds well to that because it's coming from a place of empathy and shared similar experiences.

tl;dr Former semi-feral free range child mentors current semi-feral free range child, results surprisingly positive.

[kingsoowolves]

constant | s. es

pairing: Best friend!Eunseok x fem!reader

word count: 9.2k

author's note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while because I desperately wanna give it a part two, but I don't have the timeeeeeeee :( so if you like this, pretty please tell me and put your foot on my butt so I write it :) Inspired by nothing else but my sick twisted mind full of angst. Hope you enjoy!

contents: Best friends turned to friends with benefits turned to (awkward) best friends again turned to ?????? Angst, semi smut (as in descriptions of first time having sex + heavy make out session with grindind and feeling each other up), and more angst because I'm crazy. Eunseok has a girlfriend on the latter part of this, so there's cheating involved (trigger warning). Reader's father dies when she's very young (more trigger warning). Other riize members + random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. No happy ending (for now).

you can also read this work on my ao3, if you'd like

For as long as you can remember, Song Eunseok has been a constant in your life.

Some of your oldest memories are from when you were around six and, by then, you already spent most of your afternoons on playdates with the boy next door and his mom.

Your mother recounts the day you’ve met when you were both five-year-olds with elaborate detail. After your dad’s sudden death scarred your lives, you moved into a far place where nobody knew you. The day you settled in your new house, your mom took you for a stroll around the neighborhood to get to know the area and you ended up in a playground packed with kids from all ages. 

According to her, you were the one who approached Eunseok. He was a shy boy playing by himself on the sand box with his toy rocket ship when you came over, hair in pigtails with pink ribbons and a gap between your teeth from losing your first baby tooth only a week prior, your face eclipsing the sunlight that hit his forehead. Your mom says that when he looked up, anyone could tell he had just found something brighter than the sun to beam over him.

Or at least that’s what she likes to say to get you both flustered now that you’re young adults.

Nevertheless, since that day you’ve been attached at the hip and it was clear that your bright outspoken personality complemented his quiet observant one. Although the contrast sometimes was a bit too much for people. Sunshine extroverted girl running around with brooding introverted boy? It made no sense for them. When you started getting older and others’ comments and side-eyes got progressively worse, you showed everyone how you could be the cross one if they pushed too far. You spent a lot of time kicking shins and pulling heads full of hair from the boys that bullied Eunseok and the girls who talked bad behind his back just because he was timid. You also talked back to any adult who dared to make a nasty comment about your friendship. By the time you reached middle school, everyone in your little town knew not to mess with you or your friend.

Finally, you were free to play and be with Eunseok to your heart’s content, without having to worry about snide remarks that could upset him. Now you could enjoy your time with your best friend from the whole wide world and not care what people think, because for once they were not announcing it to you. It made the connection between you two much stronger.

You constantly reminisce of days spent with him, learning everything there was to know about each other.

The first thing you learnt about Eunseok was how much he likes the universe. He told you everything about it — how old it is, what it is made of, what humanity knows and does not know about it. He told you scientific discoveries and theories, recited every galaxy, planet, meteorite he could remember the name of and filled your days with interesting facts and anecdotes about his passion. Every word out of his mouth would make you gawk, both because of how amazing it all sounded and because you couldn’t believe he was able to gather that much information at such a young age.

When you’d talk about your future selves, you always wished to become something plain and silly as any girl would say, like an actress or an idol, but Eunseok dreamed of greater professions. He wanted to be an astronaut, an aerospace engineer, an astrophysicist, a project manager. Sometimes you’d feel small and pathetic from how big his dreams were compared to yours. But it was your own mind’s fault, never Eunseok’s. He never viewed you as any less than him just because you had differing interests and specially never made you feel stupid for being a girl.

Eunseok took interest in your hobbies. He let you play dress up with him, loving the cute Sanrio hair pins you put on his head and complimenting you on your make up skills once you were done and he looked at himself in the mirror. He listened to you talk for hours about your favorite artists and retell him the plot of the latest drama you were watching with your mom. He became a fan of anime because of you and you started binge-watching a bunch together. He listened to your music and even made you a personal playlist of your favorite artists one day. And he was also the one who accompanied you to their concerts, buying you merch and sticking by your side, laughing whilst you screamed your lungs out for the people on stage.

Getting to know Eunseok and spending time with him was the best part of your days and when people finally stopped disturbing you about your friendship, you had more time to spend with each other. Though you were so relieved about it that you didn’t prepare yourself for the next big change — high school. 

Puberty and hormones are a funny thing. One day your best friend is the rejected loner nerd everybody seems to look down on. The next day he’s the cute sexy boy-with-thick-framed-glasses that everyone is looking at.

You and Eunseok were never ready for the kind of attention he started to receive in your second year of high school. His once perpetually empty desk nook was now filled to the brim with chocolates on Valentine’s Day and notes with declaration of love. Girls suffered when they didn’t get a gift back from him on White Day and suddenly, without your consent, everybody appointed you as Eunseok’s personal messenger, handing over confessions' letters for him during lectures or even dropping them inside your locker or backpack when you weren’t looking. You hand delivered every single one of them to him, complaining about it the whole time, just to watch him read the contents of each letter and then rip them apart, throwing them in the nearest trash can. Whenever you stared at the shreds of paper inside the bin for a second too long, Eunseok grabbed your wrist and pulled you along to walk out the school's hallways with him.

You were always wondering if he liked the attention or not, but you never asked him about it and you’re sure he would never admit it even if that was the case.

Another thing that you wondered about was what the fuck all the girls abruptly started seeing in him. Up until then, you were the only one who knew how special Eunseok was. But that was because you saw something in him on that first day at the playground nobody else did and you spent years actually growing together with him. You knew Eunseok was a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy, but that was because he let you in.

The girls who were flocking behind him didn’t know that he preferred a mango Melona over a watermelon one. Or that he always double knotted his shoelaces and insisted on you doing the same every time you tripped over your shoes. Or that whenever you came back home together, he waited for you to get inside your house and lock the door before going to his home right beside it. They didn’t know he used to help your mom whenever your car had a mechanical problem or that he tasted every single one of your failed baking recipes, no matter how bad they were. They didn’t know he cooked whole meals with his mother and took care of their garden with his father. Or that whenever your mother took the night shift at the hospital, he made you a lunchbox for dinner and for breakfast. They didn’t know he always grabbed you a strawberry milk at the school’s canteen when they were close to running out. Or that when your first boyfriend broke up with you barely two weeks after you started dating, he comforted and hugged you for hours while you cried in his arms. Or that when you told him you didn’t know if the few memories you have of your father were real or just fabricated from old pictures, videos and stories your mother tells you, he comforted you by saying that your heart remembers him and that was what mattered. 

They didn’t know he loved dad jokes and would hit you with them at least three times a day, making you roll your eyes and laugh with every new one out of his mouth. They didn’t know his gruff voice turned soft and airy when he sang and that, on starry nights, he laid by your side on your backyard lawn and talked about all the constellations in the night sky over your heads. They didn’t even know how athletic he actually was and about how you both went to Sungchan’s house every Wednesday after class where Eunseok proceeded to kick Sungchan’s ass at basketball while you watched and sipped on your bubble tea.

You knew Eunseok, those girls didn’t.

They only saw a hint of a stubble on his jaw and his shoulders getting broader one day and decided he was finally worth the attention when you knew of this fact since day one.

And the possibility that any of those desperate tramps could ever get to know him like you did made your stomach churn. Eunseok’s response to them just bugged you further. He never responded to any advances, but never outright rejected them either. He seemed apathetic about it, and maybe that should’ve told you something, but you couldn’t figure it out now and much less when you were sixteen.

Fortunately, after a while, those girls stopped humiliating themselves looking for the attention he never gave them and things more or less went back to normal, with them labeling him as a pretentious loser and going back to their stupid lives. And you had him all to yourself again.

The next time your relationship with Eunseok changed only happened in the winter break before your last year of school and it was provoked by you. You still don’t know why you did what you did. Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was the small list of guys that had already broken your heart by then. Maybe it was just the fear of going to college as a still inexperienced and never desired eighteen-year-old. Maybe it was because you were afraid of the near future, of a life without Eunseok coming just around the corner.

You knew that once you finished high school, he would probably study in Seoul or maybe even go abroad. The life in your little town would never be enough for him. He was too intelligent and dedicated to his studies to not aim high. And you would just stay behind, because you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving your mom alone in the world and because you were never a good student anyway. The thing with being extroverted is that it can land you many contacts, but they won’t mean a thing if you don’t have the qualifications to back them up. Either way, you were stuck there. Eunseok would fly and you would just watch and cheer for him from afar. So you needed something to hold on to, something to completely mark the memories you had together forever.

All you remember is that you were huddled together inside his room, on your weekly movie night, watching an anime Eunseok loved for the thousandth time and you got distracted by his eyelashes, how they softly pressed the skin under his waterline anytime he blinked, how the blue glow from the TV made they seem a tone lighter and smooth to the touch, and how desperately you needed to feel them with your fingertips. Next, you stared at his eyebrows, thick and designed and really pretty. Really really pretty. Like all of him. Then, while he was laughing about something in the movie, you raised your hand as if to mindlessly touch his brows because it was like they were calling to you, but Eunseok caught your wrist mid-movement, pulling back before you could graze his skin.

He gasped and looked at you with wide eyes and you asked him the most ridiculous question that ever came out of your mouth.

“Seok, will you be my first?” You said.

He didn’t ask what you meant, because he knew exactly what you were talking about. He didn’t ask if you were serious, because he knew you were. He didn’t ask if you were sure, because he also knew you were. Because he knew you. One look at your face and he could see the sincerity dripping from your whole being.

“Yes,” he replied a half second later. And then he pulled you in for a kiss.

You would like to say that you kept your calm through all of it, that you didn’t feel shaken or nauseated with nerves and that you did everything exactly like the magazines guided, like your friends talked about when telling their experiences, like the spicy videos you watched late at night showed, like the romantic movies made it seem. You’d like to say that you kissed Eunseok with certainty, that you took off your clothes sensually and that you grabbed his cock the right way.

But Eunseok’s bedroom would beg to differ. The laptop on his study desk saw how your lips faltered over his skin and overheard your frenzied mind wondering if you were doing everything right. His calendar snickered at you while your t-shirt got stuck on your earring on its way off your body and how you fumbled to free the fabric and almost ripped your ear off. The posters on his walls watched your trembling fingers struggling with the buckle on his belt for thirty seconds until Eunseok took pity on you and unfastened it himself. The clock beside his TV looked at your expectant eyes when he deposited kisses on the valley between your breasts and continued going down, down, down. When his fingers inside you were unexpectedly precise in driving you to your first peak and you asked him if he had done that before, the lamp on his nightstand listened to the sound of your disappointed gasp after he said “Yes”. His sheets felt the nervous tugs of your hand whilst you pumped Eunseok’s dick in an unsteady rhythm and at an awkward angle with your other hand. His bed frame picked up on your hoarse moans once he finally slid into you, sounds that only grew louder and raspier with each drive of his hips forward. His mattress could testify to how slick you got in between your legs and about the mess you left behind. His books eavesdropped on you promising to each other in between whimpers that it was only a one time thing, never to happen again, and that it wouldn’t change your friendship. And once your joint orgasm took over you both, the stars stickers on his ceiling shined bright right at your wrecked and fucked out face.

After, when your head was laying on Eunseok’s chest and he started to snore, you reached out and touched his eyebrows and lashes, brushing against them one by one while an indescribable feeling took over you.

You’d also like to say that you kept your promise or that at least you tried to keep it, but two days later you both found ourselves in the same compromising position — naked and on his bed. By the start of the school year, you were meeting up almost everyday and fucking at least for three days out of the week.

Being with Eunseok like that showed you a whole new side of him. Of course he still took care of you in every way possible, but he stopped being so nice and gentle all the time. There was no space for tenderness when he was too busy fucking you from behind, tweaking your peaked nipples, thrusting his cock into your mouth until you gagged on it, collecting your drool to use as lubricant, curling his fingers deep inside you, telling you how much he loved your cunt and begging you to cum for him. But you preferred it this way. You could take his rough fucking.

What you couldn’t handle were the soft moments in between, when he brushed your sweaty hair back and gazed deeply into your eyes, and when he asked in his softest voice if you were feeling good — if he was the reason you felt so good —, and when he told you how much he liked you and how perfect you were for him, and when he admitted he thought about you two like that for so long, and when he murmured sweet words to you like a prayer, and when he caressed your skin as if you were a goddess and he was your faithful servant.

What you really couldn’t handle was Eunseok’s confession three months later. The look on his face when you replied to his "I love you" with “You deserve someone better than me” will haunt you forever. You had never seen him put on his clothes and storm out of your room so fast before.

After that night, you didn’t hook up again and things turned awkward. But Eunseok was still a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy. All he gave you was three weeks of complete radio silence — no texts, no calls, no extracurricular meetings, not even a glance your way during classes. You even stopped going to and coming back from school together. And then on one sunny Tuesday, when you were on your way home in the afternoon, he trailed behind you and eventually your footsteps fell side by side. Eunseok didn’t say a thing whilst your sneakers pressed against the pavement at the same rhythm. You also didn’t dare to speak a single word, afraid any sound would scare him away.

Once you pulled up in front of your neighboring houses he picked some papers from inside his backpack and handed them to you.

“I took a copy of my notes from Calculus III. For that exam on Friday,” he explained.

You grabbed the sheets of paper and looked at his carefully crafted handwriting photocopied on them, how it was gentle and soft like almost everything he did. You looked up at him and asked, “Why are you giving me this?

He shrugged. “Thought you might need it.”

“Does this mean we are friends again?” You asked, your voice hopeful and unsure.

“You’ll always be my best friend, Y/N,” he said and his words carried a sorrow that pained your heart deeply.

Then he turned, climbed the three steps of his front porch and entered his house. He didn’t wait for you to get inside your home and lock the door like he used to. He just left you there. You felt relieved that he put himself over you at least once. Even if it was also his way of forgiving you.

It took a while for you to feel comfortable with each other again. And even still, it wasn’t the same as before. You had to find a new normal.

The new normal came with not having Eunseok doing so many nice things to you. He didn’t let you get the last pizza slice anymore or save you a seat on school’s assemblies you always got late to. Your once duo movie nights turned into something you’d do with a group of friends, at least one other person to ease the obvious tension still lingering in between you. And that’s when group gatherings, either going out with friends or meeting at someone’s house, became even more common. Because being alone with him in an enclosed space was definitely off limits. You needed to fill all the space in between you with people and things so there wouldn't be any left for thoughts and feelings.

The new normal also included saying goodbye to Eunseok at the end of the year. He ended up enrolled at Pusan National University’s science program and you stayed at your town studying tourism in a local uni. His college was still close to your town, it was only one hour and ten minutes drive from your house to his dorm, maybe one and a half if there was traffic. And he came home every other weekend, where you’d often meet and be your childhood selves together again. Still, not having him part of your everyday life hurt you more than you thought it would.

Then, two months after your second year at college started, he showed up at your house late on a Friday night, all merry and giddy. You immediately knew something was up.

“I have to tell you something,” he said under the light of your entryway while he took off his shoes.

“What is it?” You asked, taking a step back to prepare yourself for the news.

“I have a girlfriend,” he whispered, breaking your heart in a million pieces.

Her name is Sian and she is everything you aren’t — lovable, smart, caring, and with the same interests as Eunseok.

When he brought her home one weekend, she was warm and kind. She talked to you as if you were a close friend and apparently did not care a bit that you, another woman, are Eunseok’s best friend. Also, she makes Eunseok grin like no one else does and you’re grateful for that, because his smiles are hard to come by ever since that night you told him he deserves someone better. Turns out he did find someone better. And you can’t even hate her because she is a truly good person. But you do envy her.

That’s what you’re doing right now, envying Sian. It’s movie night and Eunseok is at your room, the both of you together and alone again after so many years, courtesy of Sungchan, Chaeryeong and Wonbin blowing you off to warm themselves up at a winter break party rather than hide at home under the blankets. It feels both awkward and familiar to be here with him, mostly because Eunseok is supposed to be watching the movie with you. You are supposed to be watching the movie, too, but you’re stuck observing him from the corner of your eye for fifteen minutes while he smiles and types away at his phone, texting his girlfriend. Said girlfriend who is currently traveling around France with her parents and bombing Eunseok’s phone with photos of her smiling prettily under the Eiffel Tower, in front of the Louvre, at Champs-Élysées. You don’t know why she takes so many photos. You don’t know why Eunseok has to react to every single one of them with a heart emoji and tell her how beautiful she looks. But you suppose that when you're pretty and rich and go to expensive places and have a caring boyfriend, that’s what happens. Not that you’d know any of that.

The thing is, envying Sian is not new to you. You’ve become used to it. It's quite easy to do it, actually. Because she has everything whilst you have nothing. She has money, beauty, intelligence and love. She has loyal friends and good people by her side. She has a balanced family and absolutely no childhood trauma from what you can tell. She definitely has some procedures on her face and her teeth are so perfect and bright it hurts your eyes. And she has an alive father, one that would for sure make a lovely father-in-law for Eunseok one day. Because she also has Eunseok.

And you like Sian. You really like her. But you can’t stand another minute of Eunseok not paying attention to anything that isn’t her – not paying attention to you.

“Seok, you’re not watching the movie,” you finally say after putting up with his constant texting for the last fifteen minutes.

He looks at you for a beat and puts his phone face down over his stomach, eyes shifting back to the laptop screen glowing in front of you both. “Sorry.”

He stays like that for a while, but then his phone vibrates and its screen glows and he picks it up again, spending another few minutes typing.

You shift uncomfortably on the far corner of your bed, the space between you and Eunseok as wide as the emotional distance you both created. “Eunseok, come on,” you whine, turning to him. “Are you for real right now?”

He doesn’t even glance your way this time, choosing to remain focused on whatever message he’s writing. “Sorry, I’m just texting Sian,” he says, as if you don’t know it already.

You sigh. “I know, but can’t you do it another time?”

“No. We haven’t been able to talk for a few days because of the time zones’ difference. And right now we’re both free and awake,” he explains.

His answer shoots an arrow straight through your chest. “Except you’re not free,” you remind him, your voice getting a tone higher. “You’re busy watching a movie with me!”

“Well, I need a couple minutes to talk with my girlfriend!” He counters.

“It’s been a couple minutes, alright? It’s been a few minutes, actually!”

“Y/N, I really don’t get what the problem is,” he says, finally looking at you again, seeming exasperated.

“The problem is you’re not watching the freaking movie!” You exclaim, feeling annoyed yourself.

He has the audacity to roll his eyes at you and turn back to his phone. “We watched this movie a billion times already.”

“It’s our favorite movie!” You say through gritted teeth, feeling offended.

“And we watched it a billion times before,” he repeats with a condescending tone, like he’s talking to a dumb kid. “My point still stands.”

“Well, if that’s how it’s gonna be,” you start, shutting the laptop down. You crawl down the bed and carry it with you before flicking your light back on, beyond yourself with anger. “Then movie night is over!” You finish, reaching for your study desk and putting your laptop on it with a little too much force.

Eunseok rubs at his eyes for a moment, the sudden clarity obviously affecting his vision as much as it’s affecting yours, but you’re too busy being mad to care for it. 

Once he’s done adjusting his eyes, he comes back to the argument. “Oh God, it’s just a movie. You are so dramatic!”

His words only hurt you more. “If I’m so dramatic, why don’t you go back to your home and never look at me again since that’s what you prefer anyway?”

Eunseok stares at you for a second, then blinks. “What?”

“I said if I’m so dramatic—”

“No, no, no,” he interrupts you, flinging himself from the bed and tossing his phone at your nightstand in a single move. “I heard what you said, but what the fuck do you mean about it?”

You cross your arms, still defensive and livid. “Oh, come on, Eunseok! You don’t talk with me anymore. I know nothing about your life except for when you’re speaking about Sian. And that is all you talk about — Sian, Sian, Sian, all the fucking time. You never make time for us. And when by a chance we do have the opportunity to spend some time together, again you’re talking with her? You don’t pay attention to me and you don’t fucking care anymore! So if you don’t want my friendship, just say it and go away! We can be done and over with it!”

“Where did you get the idea that I don’t care about you? If I didn’t care, why would I be here?” He says, tips of his ears and apple of his cheeks getting red.

“But you’re not here!” You yell, moving a little towards him and slamming your hand on your dresser. A few of your personal items on it shake and fall. “You haven’t been here for a while now. You’re not present in this friendship anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t go out, we don’t stay in together. We never do anything just the two of us. We’re never alone and never together, not truly. And even when we’re with other people, your mind is also elsewhere all the time. Everything just feels empty and superficial between us.”

Eunseok’s face gets redder with each word you utter and when you’re finished he spats at you, “And whose fault is that, Y/N? Who the fuck ruined everything between us?”

“Oh, so now you’re ready to talk about it?” You question, taking a step in his direction and crossing your arms. “Not gonna act like a coward and pretend nothing happened like usual?”

He also starts to walk towards you. “I’m a coward? You’re the one who walked away from us because you were too afraid of taking a chance!”

“And I regret it everyday!” You exclaim. “I get that I hurt you, Eunseok. I get that, okay? But also, I just miss us!” Your throat tightens and your voice starts to get shaky and heavy, all thanks to your upcoming tears. “I miss you! I miss you so freaking bad!”

It’s then that you start to cry, overcome with guilt and remorse, tears flowing from your eyes and cascading on your flushed face.

Eunseok’s temper tones down at your reaction and he takes a step back to assess your state. When the tears don’t stop after a few seconds, he looks at you with sorrow in his eyes. “Y/N,” he says, voice soft and understanding.

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes and turn away at him, hiding from the pity in his gaze by leaning your head against the wall. Your arm accidentally bumps against the light switch when you do it and the room darkens around you.

It’s quiet for a while. Just the sound of your sobs and hiccups and Eunseok’s ragged breath near the bed. You can hear that he’s trying to calm himself down, taking deep breaths in and out. Then you hear the noise of his sock-covered foot sliding across your floor, informing you he’s taking a hesitant step toward you. After that one, comes a new step. And another. And one more. And after a couple more, you feel his presence a hair’s breadth away from you. It’s warm and inviting and it takes everything in you not to lean back against it.

But you don’t have to, because a moment later he’s closing the distance. His arms cross over the front of your stomach, his chest meets your back and his chin rests on the crown of your head. He’s enveloping you in a hug from behind, over and under you. His scent invades your nostrils – clean softener, cedar wood and a touch of the citrus hand cream you gave him weeks prior. It feels suffocating in the best way possible. You don’t want him to ever let you go.

“Oh, Y/N,” he sighs. “I had no idea you felt like that.” He tightens his arms around you and continues. “I miss you, too. I miss you so much.”

“I didn’t know,” you stutter. “You never told me.”

“Yeah, I guess we’re both losers with a communication problem, right?” He says with a chuckle, his chest trembling against your back. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you sob, shaking your head. “Seok, I’m so sorry. For so many things.”

“Yeah?” He asks, pulling some hair away from the side of your face and snuggling his head on your shoulder. “Can you look at me and say that to my face, though?”

“Seok,” you whine, feeling guilty and vulnerable.

“Please?” He asks in a melodic voice. You can feel his breath right at your pulse and it takes everything in you not to ask him to kiss you. “I need to see your face to know that you really mean it.”

You sigh deeply, still ashamed, but does as he says. You do it slowly though. First you back away from the wall and pull your hands from your eyes, blinking at the shift from a complete blackout to the darkness of your room, still illuminated by the soft light of the hallway infiltrating from your half open door. Then you hastily clean a few tears from your face and brush your hair down, flicking it over your shoulders and trying to look like less of a hot mess. Only then you turn around to Eunseok and he lets his hands drift from the front of your stomach to your waist, still holding you close.

Your eyes dance over his form. Looking at his arms, his chest, his stomach, his shoulders. Everywhere but his face. He just waits while you gather courage, seconds passing through you.

Once you feel ready, you take another deep breath and look up, finally meeting his brown eyes again. They don’t have that anger that was present there a few minutes ago. The grudge they carried for you for years is also not there anymore. It makes you feel like crying again.

“Seok, I’m so sorry,” you hiccup, growing agitated again, new tears welling up your eyes. “I’m so sorry for so many things. For hurting you and for not talking about it and for not apologizing earlier and for not saying how—”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, pretty girl,” he coos, hands cradling your face to wipe at your tear streaked skin. “I know. I believe you, okay? I really do.”

“I was so dumb, I’m still so dumb. I never told you—”

“Hey, no, don’t talk about my best friend like that, please,” he says, pulling you in so the side of your face is pressed against his chest.

You slide your hands under his arms and around his back, wrapping your arms around him to pull him back against you, his heartbeat echoing in your ear. “I’m still your best friend?” You ask, voice small and quivering.

He snickers and you feel his nose touching the crown of your head. His chest expands behind your cheek when he takes a whiff of your hair. “Haven’t I told you that already?” He says, each word making his lips move against your scalp. “You’ll always be my best friend, Y/N. Nothing can change that.”

You continue crying, dampening his t-shirt with your tears. “I was so afraid we’d never talk again.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here with you now, right?”

“Are you? For real?” You ask, pushing off his chest to glance up at him.

Eunseok’s gaze melts at your insecurity and he lifts a hand to massage behind your head. “I am. For real.”

“You don’t hate me, then?” You ask, just to be sure.

“I could never hate you, Y/N. Where did you get that idea?”

You shrug and look down, biting on your lower lip. “I don’t know.”

But you do know. You thought he hated you because of what you did. And he’d had every right to if that was the case. You’re lucky he’s always been a kind soul, a helpful friend and an overall amazing guy.

He bends a little to catch your gaze, his thumb grazing your chin. “I’m here and I don’t hate you. I’ll be present again in this friendship from now on. Can you also do that?”

You nod quickly. “Yes, I can.”

“Great. Then we’re settled,” he says.

You smile and Eunseok smiles back at you. Then he rests his forehead on yours, sweeping back some strands of your hair and tucking them in behind your ear. You close your eyes and bask in his presence, at the certainty he's here with you now. You still have a lot to talk about, but you can do it calmly and over time. Right now what matters is that you found a middle ground. Everything else can wait a little bit longer.

You stay like that for a while, hugging tightly, feeling each other, growing confident the other won’t slip away. Until something shifts. Eunseok’s hands slide from the back of your head to your neck, his thumbs brushing on your skin. You know it’s an innocent act, that he’s just shifting his position a little. But you can’t contain the involuntary shiver that runs through your spine. You visibly shake in his embrace, opening your eyes with a gasp to find him already gazing deeply at you, his eyes darker than the last time you looked at him.

You flinch back and squeeze your eyes shut. “Sorry, I—”

“Don’t say sorry,” Eunseok commands, his voice lower than you've ever heard before. He rubs his thumbs down your clavicle and your body trembles again. “Don’t you ever say sorry about that.”

You take a shaky breath, the tension filling your nerves, and open your eyes again. He’s still looking at you and his fingers press against your nape to pull your face closer to his, his nose brushing against yours.

“Seok,” you whisper, not knowing if you’re giving him a warning or begging for something more.

He makes an appreciative sound behind his throat and presses his mouth on your skin timidly, his touch barely there. “I missed you saying my name like that so much,” he says, running his lips on your cheek. “It always sounds so airy, like just saying it gets you hot and bothered.”

You gulp down, processing his words. Eunseok just crossed a line saying that to you. And if you reply to him with what you have in mind, you’ll cross another. Then you’ll be playing a dangerous game, toying with the limits of your just recovered friendship and with the relationship he’s in. You’ve been here before and it did not go well for either of you. Chances are it won’t have a better outcome this time.

But it just feels so good… Would it really be so bad to cross just another teeny tiny line?

“You always get me hot and bothered,” you admit, feeling your chest constrict with guilt and desire.

Deep down you know this is wrong, you know Eunseok knows this is wrong. He has a girlfriend. He was talking to her barely ten minutes ago. Your friendship was just secured a few moments ago. You can’t do this. Whatever this is, you can’t go through with it. It wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be safe. It wouldn’t be wise.

The tension stretches whilst Eunseok doesn’t respond to you immediately. He remains silent for a beat, and then another one, and you’re about to retract your words, when he chuckles, blowing air on your face.

���I know, baby,” he says, the pet name and the way he says it going straight to your core.  You decide to throw all caution out the window. You can’t go back now. Not anymore. To be honest, you could never deny him again.

He slides a hand down your body, his fingers brushing your clavicle and shoulder, then going to your back to skim over your spine. It trails lower until it squeezes your waist and pulls you more into him, making your bodies impossibly closer. “I felt that shiver, too, you know? I always feel so good when I’m close to you. It’s a big problem.”

You let him feel you up, fisting the front of his t-shirt on your hands while you try to remain calm. You’re frozen in place and completely at his mercy. You’ll give him everything he wants from you. You’re his for the taking. You always were.

His mouth brushes against the corner of your lips and you tilt your head up to preen closer to the touch, trying to draw out the feeling of his lips so close to yours for as long as possible.

Eunseok presses a kiss there and his hand glides under your top to feel the warm skin of your lower back. “When I was younger, I always had a boner whenever you so much as looked my way. I jerked off so many times thinking about you,” he reveals, careful eyes watching your reaction to his words. “I still do.”

You choke at the last piece of information, mind reeling with it. He used to touch himself to the thought of you. He still does it now. You wonder how he looks while he does it — how he sounds, how much precum he lets gather at the tip of his cock before touching it, how fast he cums. Almost all air leaves your lungs whilst you think about it.

“Really?” You ask, voice faltering. “Even after everything?”

He nods. “Even after everything. Even now. I can’t get you out of my head.” His fingers start to draw figure eights on your back. “I had to occupy myself with so many things to forget you. I tried so hard, but it was no use.”

Your heartbeat is wild and you’re trembling constantly now. But Eunseok doesn’t seem to care. He just pulls you closer and touches you more, making it impossible for you to stop shivering.

“Me too,” you confess, hands sliding up to the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t get over you. Over us. I still think about it all the time.”

“Yeah? What do you think about, baby?” He asks, putting his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

Your desire gathers between your legs and pools on your underwear so much it starts to feel uncomfortable. You need to take it off of you. You need him to take it off of you. You need him.

“I think about when we used to have fun together,” you say, wrapping your arms over his back.

“Oh,” he utters, descending both of his hands to fit them on your back pockets, squeezing your ass and flattening you against him, his hard-on nestled inside his jeans pressing against your pants’ crotch. It feels amazing. “You think about something like this?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, shifting your hips up to feel more of him. “When I touch myself, I always think about that.”

He releases a breath and drops a kiss on your neck, squeezing you more against him. “What more do you think about?”

“Your pretty cock,” you whisper, running a hand through his hair. “I think about how I used to suck it off and bounce on it. I miss it so much.”

“Oh shit, Y/N,” he groans, pelvis pulling back just to push forwards again, creating delicious friction between you. You feel dizzy with desire and you can only hope he feels the same way.

“Thinking about you always gets me so wet. I’m dripping by the time I’m finished,” you mutter, then you move your lips to his ear, preparing yourself to deal your final blow. “I’m so fucking wet for you right now, Seok.”

It’s Eunseok that shivers this time.

“Fuck, I wanna see that,” he says, a hand snaking in between your legs, cupping your sex over your pants. “I wanna feel it. Can I, baby?”

“Please,” you beg, pulling his face down by his collar until his forehead is pressed against yours again. “I need you so bad. You have no idea.”

“You got me, baby,” he whispers. “You got me.” And then he’s diving in to kiss you.

Eunseok kisses you like he’s claiming you and you kiss him back like you can’t bear spending another moment without his lips touching yours. It’s messy and sloppy, your mouths and tongues trying to suck and lick anything you’re able to reach, your teeth clenching together and biting sensitive skin. Each time one of you pulls back, the other moves forward again to connect your lips.

Kissing like this shows you just how much you wasted time not doing what you wanted. You could’ve been doing this for ages, you could be experienced professionals about how to make each other feel good. You could’ve been loving each other this close and this deeply instead of avoiding your feelings. God, you were so stupid for the longest time.

You’re completely out of breath once Eunseok’s lips slip down to kiss your neck, making you moan and shiver. Then he’s pushing you up until you land on the top of the dresser and you’re glad you have something to support yourself because your legs were about to give out at any moment.

He puts his body in between your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the dresser until he can roll his hips against yours again. You moan in unison and his hands squeeze your thighs whilst he resumes attacking your neck with his mouth.

“I thought about this so much,” you say, grinding on him. “Wishing we could do this all the time.” You pull on his hair until he’s looking at you again. “I always wanted you, Eunseok. Always.”

“I did, too,” he replies, hands slipping under your top to feel your bare skin, thumbs pressing on your sides.

You slide a hand down his stomach to find his belt, pulling on the buckle to unfasten it. Once you’re done, you pull it from his jeans quickly and throw it on the floor. “That’s not the only thing. What I’m trying to say is—”

The air is pulled from your lungs when Eunseok picks you up again and tosses you on your bed, crawling right up to your body until he’s hovering above you. The manhandling gets you light-headed and his hands coming up to cup your breasts empties your brain completely. 

You can’t remember what you were saying. Your focus just zeros in on the way he’s ravishing you.

“Y/N,” he whispers while kissing your jaw.

“Yes?” You say, still dazed.

He moves his hand down to the button of your jeans, toying with it for a moment before pulling it out of its loop and drawing your zipper down. His hands skim on the waistband of your panties and you groan, feeling the heat of his fingertips so close to where you most want him.

“What you’re trying to say is?” He asks, tone light and fun, clearly teasing you for your dazed state for the past minute.

Your brain awakes again and you squeeze his arms, remembering what you were about to confess. “Right. What I’m trying to say is—”

Eunseok sucks on your pulse point and you groan, turned on and frustrated. You know he’ll just keep fogging your mind further until you are a blabbering mess. And although you’re not opposed to that, you really need a moment to catch your breath so you can communicate with him properly. After that, you can do what you both are clearly desperate to do.

“Wait,” you whisper, pushing on his shoulders. “I need a second.”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you, watching your chest heave with each breath you take. “You want to stop?”

You shake your head immediately and press your elbows to the mattress, supporting your head up to look at him. “No. I just need to tell you something.”

His fingers dig on your waist. “Sure, baby. What is it?”

You sigh, moving a hand to his chest and trying to make the words in your brain get out of your mouth. “What I’m trying to say is—” The words get stuck in your throat, a new wave of sudden sensibility hitting you right in the chest, impending them from coming out. You feel you’re about to sob again. “Fuck, I’m saying that I—”

The letters are right there, resting on the tip of your tongue, but they just refuse to get out. I love you, you wanna say. I love you, you wanna scream. I love you, I love you, I love you. That’s all you think about. Three little words that have been swimming inside you for as long as you remember. You waited your whole life to say that to him and now that you’re desperate to say it, your voice fails you, your fear taking over your mind, new tears welling up on your throat.

Eunseok watches you expectantly, just waiting. He’s patient with you, like he is most of the time. His eyes show that he knows what you’re going to say, but also that he badly needs to hear it, probably just as much as you need to tell him. It gives you the strength to push through your last restraints.

You take another shuddering breath and lock your eyes with his. “Seok, I lo—”

Then a sudden sound makes you both jump and he pulls back from you as you sit up on the bed. It takes a second to identify what it is, but the realization downs you both at the same time, your heads tilting together to look at the origin of the noise. It’s Eunseok’s ringtone accompanied by his phone vibrating on your bedside table. He’s receiving a call. And you don’t have to look at his screen to see who the caller is. You know it’s Sian. The woman he just cheated on with you.

Eunseok scurries down the bed to pick up his phone, turning his volume all the way down until the only sign of his girlfriend calling him is the picture glowing under her name on his screen. Then he puts the device into his pants’s pocket and stares at the wall in front of him. His back is turned to you and his shoulders are stiff whilst his phone screen still lights up inside his back pocket until it stills. But barely two seconds later it starts flashing again and you know Sian won’t stop calling until he picks up.

You just fucked up. Majorly so. 

Hurting each other in the midst of your confusing feelings was all you’ve ever done in your life. The sting burned like hell, but it was your way, your uncomfortable comfort zone, something you’ve gotten used to. Upsetting and harmful, but still familiar, still you two. But hurting another person because of it — someone who has nothing to do with your shit, who is a good person above and all? That was a whole new level of dark and twisted.

You sigh, extremely disappointed with yourself, and run your hands through your hair. You knew you were a bad person, but apparently you never thought it would get to this extent. And now here you are.

What pulls you from the bed and puts you on your feet is Eunseok complete stillness. He’s quiet until his phone stops ringing for the third time, probably taking his girlfriend to voicemail. And he remains quiet when it starts to ring again. You get up to comfort him, to put a hand on his shoulder, because you can’t take seeing him hurt by something that is obviously your fault.

You were the one who held back your feelings. You were the one who made him confused. You were the one that confronted him, screamed and cried. You let him hug you, leaned into his arms, shivered and whispered his name like a prayer. You teased him, tempted him, made him cheat. Eunseok isn’t guilty of any of this, you are. It’s your responsibility to take.

You get off the bed and walk towards him. “Seok,” you say, reaching a hand out to touch his shoulder.

However, Eunseok flinches away from you, instantly springing back to life and starting to zip up his pants again. You pull your hand back to rest it against your chest, clenching it into a fist and holding your wrist with your other hand.

“I think I should go,” he says to the wall.

You take a step back and sigh. Guilt, shame, fear and rejection pull on your heartstrings, making your chest tight. You don’t have the energy nor the audacity to ask him to stay. Not after what you’ve just done.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.

Eunseok turns to you, but his eyes look at a distant point at your bedroom wall. “I think we shouldn’t see each other for a while.”

You gulp down the tears swelling on your throat and nod. “Okay.”

He finally looks at you, eyes heavy with remorse. “I just need some time and space, Y/N.”

“Sure, I’ll give them to you,” you say, plastering a fake smile on your face, trying to comfort him despite falling apart inside. ”Whatever you need, Seok.”

“Thank you,” he sighs.

Then he’s back to recomposing himself and collecting some of his things left on the floor and you just stay there, watching him until he’s done. On his way out of your room, he brushes past you and stops. You hold your breath as he gets close and presses his lips to your temple.

“Bye, Y/N-ie,” he whispers over your skin.

You close your eyes and whisper back, “Bye, Seokie.”

Then he exits, hurried steps following down your house hallway. You hear him quickly put on his shoes at the hall and a small beat of silence just before he opens the door. Then the lock clicks open, a gust of wind whistles through it and you know he’s out, the automatic alarm of the door locking it closed, leaving you all alone again.

You fall to the floor, legs too weak to hold the heavy weight on your heart, and look up to the pegboard over your dresser, filled with trinkets and many pictures — pictures of you and Eunseok together.

There’s one of you as five-year-olds at the playground you met and one of you behind Eunseok’s solar system mock up he did for a science fair when you were eight. There’s one of you at twelve playing a shooting game at an arcade and another of you when you skipped class to spend a day at the beach at fourteen. There’s another one of you working together at a part-time job in a cafe when you were sixteen and even a selfie from one of your many movie nights at seventeen. There’s one of you at a burger place when you were eighteen, looking at each other and laughing.

And the last one is just of Eunseok, taken a year back, when things were already too messy in between you. In the image, he’s as handsome as ever, looking down to write something on a notepad, his hair swept back and his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. You remember the distance between his frames and his eyes made you focus on his eyelashes, just like that other time, and that a stirring on your chest made you snap the photo silently and keep it to yourself.

Looking at all of your sacred memories with him, you can’t stop the tears from falling down your face, afraid you just lost the one constant in your life forever.

author's note: Don't hate me, hate Song Eunseok who inspired me to write this. If you want a part of two, comments and asks are welcomed so I'm sure you guys actually like this. Thank you for reading, as always!

[heelsofboreas]

So here's my essay/rant about how I think parentification can be incorporated into your c!Punz and how you can use that to give c!Mercenary duo a tense and fun complex relationship.

Helios, you might be asking, what the fuck is that word? Parentification? It sounds like a disease and I'm an audience stand in.

tw for child abuse. discussed and not in detail, but as a concept for plot and mentions of long term impacts

Great point. I genuinely want to discuss what parentification is from a psychological perspective to make sure we're on the same page. So, basically, Parentification happens when a child (teens included), intentionally or not, is forced to take on developmentally inappropriate roles and responsibilities often because an adult won't/can't. If it's developmentally appropriate it's not parentification. Its been primarily divided into emotional and instrumental. Emotional is when a child is handling the social/emotional needs of family members in a way that isn't appropriate. Instrumental involves physical tasks like cooking, cleaning, and even providing financial support. A child fetching something from the fridge for an adult making dinner is not parentification. A 10 year old having to wake up in the middle of the night every night to change a diaper is.

Genuinely take some time to research it before you write it. I don't have time to get into things like the gender bias, but trust me there is a huge gender bias. Eldest daughter syndrome is a phrase for a reason, but it's not an issue restricted to being the oldest or being the daughter.

So, how can you utilize this to make a less black and white Punz was just awful to Purpled and abandoned him vibe? You make it so for some reason, Punz was the parentified caretaker of Purpled and there was no one to support Punz. Not anyone that would be able to fix things, anyways. This makes it so Purpled can have been very hurt by the situation, because the reason this would be so awful is that Punz was Also Just A Kid. Punz would not be fully equipped to raise another even younger child. It becomes a tragedy that they had to endure together but with a power dynamic that Punz can still have botched as the older brother.

This is also a very flexible situation. Did Punz pick a child up off the street to keep baby Purpled from freezing to death? That's what I write. You can also write them as bio siblings with absent/neglectful parents. Or bio siblings on the street. Maybe Punz is too young to understand the consequences of running them away from a shit life. Or maybe even from help he doesn't understand as safe. Either way, Purpled is now left alone in the hands of someone who isn't prepared to take care of him. What's next?

A few options. In my version Purpled gets incredibly sick and is for a while because Punz is like 10 and doesn't know how to treat a sick infant. In the end Punz takes Purpled to a church, where Punz starts doing work in exchange for Purpled's medical care and a place to sleep (he does this a lot). But they ditch the place when the grown ups start talking about getting them placed with a family. Specifically a placement that might split them. From there Punz is determined to make it work alone regardless of the cost to them.

You could also do Punz is playing protector and caretaker. With one or two parents that are in a sense useless or abusive. My Punz only really has parentification involving siblings, but you could easily make it even more complex by involving one or more shitty and/or passive parents. I sometimes do this in modern aus because it's just more realistic in that setting.

Additional things you can do with this:

Purpled gets taken away from Punz/their family, and resents the perceived abandonment

Punz gets taken away/put a in a position where for Purpled's safety they can't interact (kicked out by family, job things, abusive situation)

They just don't like each other. They can always just not like each other. Maybe Punz was too hard on Purpled. maybe Punz is just not the kind of caretaker Purpled needed and failed him (but they were a kid/teen too so there's nuance)

It's an act. They pretend to hate each other and not be related for safety concerns, but at the end of the day they do care (some of that fake resentment could even be actually real resentment that leads to some miscommunication issues)

So now the fun part for me, why your c!Punz should have been parentified:

Parentification can lead to difficulty establishing boundaries - this can be improved upon but often it becomes difficult to say no (which can contribute to enabling others, see: the criticism that punz enables dream's destructive tendencies)

I think it just makes any post-prison recovery arcs more interesting because Dream is going through all of that while Punz is quietly falling into a familiar role just one they chose this time instead of one that was forced on them

Parentification does increase your risk of long-term mental health issues. I don't know how I would even begin to write a neurotypical Punz and I'm happy for the clear justification to not have to

"No one can/will help me. I take care of myself." the whump potential. are you hearing me?

also the potential for a caretaking role swap

Punz is overall a pretty angry person and quick to act on perceived threats. Being in a protector role in childhood would establish that tendency early and make it concrete. Especially since Punz is CLEARLY a protective person (cough "don't touch dream" cough)

So that's just about my thoughts on that. Maybe this will make me write more Mercenary Duo once I finish like real people do.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Could you please do Boba Fett? With a male reader who wants kids. Or when reader and Boba have kids? I have baby fever right now and Boba is one of the biggest things that helps.

Boba Fett x Male reader 

Headcanons 

Lmao, this has been in my inbox a while... Star Wars has been tickling my brain again finally. 

Its a bit of a stereotype that Mandalorians love kids and hoard them like dragons hoard gold. 

But Boba isn't technically mandalorian, at least in his own eyes. Being mandalorian is more about culture than blood, and seeing as how his only ability to learn about said culture was cut short, well. He wears the armor and respects his father's memory though. 

Doesn't stop him from experiencing the baby fever. Especially if you are mandalorian and share the same baby fever. Boba will claim it's something he inherited from Jango. 

I could imagine Boba struggling in the beginning at the thought of you wanting kids, be they adopted or either of you carrying them if you are able. This also very much depends on when you guys are together. 

If its during his bounty hunting days, then Boba would want kids, somewhere deep inside, but he would not have them. Especially knowing how he lost Jango, there's no way he would want to put his own kids through that. 

After crawling out of the sarlacc and being taken in by the Tuskens, I think Boba starts turning the idea more in his head. Hes not gonna allow it until his status on Tatooine is solid, but, it would be easier to convince him. 

If either of you are able to carry your child, then Boba starts getting very broody. Doesn't matter if its you or him carrying the child honestly, he starts pacing, huffing and puffing. 

Call it protective nature, but the castle is getting suited up for war, just in case anyone tries coming for either of you. 

If its Boba that's pregnant, then he wont say it, but he appreciates massages and being cared for, a lot. Hes already older, covered in a lot of scars, so having to carry a pregnancy really wears him out. 

If it's you, then he gets even worse. Hes never leaving you alone, and there are times where you need to call for assistance from Fennec to get some privacy. Theres no need for Boba to be in the room when you bathe, but he will try it. 

Or, you guys can adopt. Even then, Boba acts like a broody hen, no matter the kids age. If they're a baby, then they are strapped to his chest. Or, inside his armor, which he's loosened enough to hold them. Only you get to hold the baby. 

If it's a kid he tries to be as approachable and fatherly as he can. Sadly, Boba doesn't have too much experience with a stable father figure. As much as Jango tried, being a famous bounty hunter didn't create the safest and most stable childhood. 

If its a teen, then Boba still tries his best to be a solid stable person they can lean on. But no matter what I can still see him struggling when it comes to being vulnerable. He tries though. 

Youll find your kid sat on his lap or the armrest of his throne on the regular when you can't find them. They always try to scowl like Boba, but it just looks adorable.  

Your kid will want to dress up as Boba, so you two end up getting them durasteel armor in a familiar mandalorian shape, like any mandalorian who hasnt become an adult yet. 

Here Din is a bigger help, since he knows the culture more thoroughly than Boba. Din becomes the kids uncle too, where Grogu will become their cousin. Fennec is involved too, of course. 

Being a dad would both stress Boba out more, but also calm him. Some part of him would settle at having your kid relying on him, someone to take him down a few notches. 

It means he doesn't always have to be on the defense, always ready for the worst. Obviously, he allows himself to open up with you, but only in private. 

With a kid, Boba starts being more vulnerable and finds his emotions easier. In the beginning its because he forces himself to do so, as he wouldn't want his kid to think he doesn't care. 

I have a feeling that your kid sleeps between you two at night for a good while. For safety, sure. But also for comfort. Doesn't matter if they are naturally born or adopted, this kid feels the safest between their two dads. 

Having a kid also means Boba actually sleeps more and cares more for himself, since he has to be worth looking up to.  

You catch the two of them taking naps together a lot, the kid draped across his middle. It's always easy to snuggle up beside them, Boba always wrapping an arm around you even when sleep. 

[nostalgiaclown]

"We can move slowly. And... I'm glad you chose me."

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Every single member of the Batfamily lies about their taste in music

Damian will claim that he only listens to classical music and that everything else is beneath him.

Damian will unironically listen to trashy Arab pop and the absolute worst Bollywood songs known to man (Dick introduced him to them and he hates the fact that sometimes he gets Sheila Ki Jawani stuck in his head during missions)

Tim will put on the most ear grating hyper pop you've ever heard and claim with full chest that these is the peak of humanities capabilities with music (Damian, Jason and Steph have all tried to kill him for this take) He will also play stuff like the living tombstones and sing it obnoxiously loud when he's working on the computer.

Tim however loves his 90s grunge and it's all that's playing in his headphones. (think nirvana, pearl Jam, Melvins, Alice in Chains etc) He has tracked down so many shirts and concert posters and watched every bit of content from the older shows.

Jason will claim he only listens to east coast rap, biggie, Nas, Jay etc and maybe some older metal. He will fight you on east vs west coast music, there will be weaponry involved.

Jason likes rap music... he unfortunately prefers west coast rap and has listened to no vaseline like 500 times. He will deny this till the day he dies...again. (Dick knows and threatens to tell Steph)

Steph will steal the aux and play Taylor Swifts greatest hits until one of the Boys threatens mutiny. Every single one of the bats has had style stuck in their heads during a stakeout at least twice. She will claim that the only rap song she can tolerate in Eminem and the 7/11 is Beyoncés best song.

Steph is an underground fan, think the dude selling mixtapes on the subway type shit. She also unlike Jason genuinely loves East Coast Rap music more than anything and knows every single wu-tang clan song by heart, same with Biggie. Not only does she love the music she also spends any free time binging those "history of rap and its consequences" videos and has been a firm believer that P.Diddy had a hand in a lot of the Death row records well...deaths.

Cass, well everyone thinks Cass has really good taste bc its Cass and she has zero flaws (don't @ me) she never takes the aux and will usually listen to her music while she's chilling or doing stretches. None of them have heard or seen a single one of her playlists except Duke.

its all 2010s top 40s pop music and like the trashy kind too, Beauty and the Beat, Kesha, Katy Perry. It's her turning of her brain time and she will be straight vibing to Rude! by magic or Boom Clap or Shower. she has shown this to Duke, smirked and told him that even if he tried to tell anyone they wouldn't believe him.

Duke is the only one who doesn't... lie. He just hides a few things. Lies of omission don't count as lies when the bats will lie to you about what they had for breakfast, while they are visibly eating breakfast. Duke says he listens to everything and he does. Literally everything. His patrol Jam is offensive bc it with start with Norwegian death metal and immediately switches to "like a G6" followed by kendrick Lamar and then descendants Disney channel movie music.

Bruce... Bruce is just weird, everyone asks him and gets a different answer. Bc he doesn't... like music. Like at all. It's all noise, his mother played instruments so he learned like 14 and he hates how they all sound. He just like vague batwings fluttering in dead silence.

Dick Grayson will obnoxiously play top 40 and radio music religiously around the bats. He claims it's the best music for rhythmic acrobatics and trapeze work and that true! Jason hates this kind of music the most, it's formulaic and holds no substance and drives him insane.

But Dick only listens to that music when he's moving, flipping doing high energy stuff. When he just wants to chill? This man has the most depressing music taste you've ever seen. You know that sad song from ur favorite artist that you can't listen to without crying. Yeah that's his bread and butter. Every single song is just flat out tear inducing, some of these bands have like 100 listeners and he is one of them and it's just their saddest song that reads like suicide note. The titans have conducted an intervention bc its just... concerning. He just thinks it's neat!

[2tcs]

Day 2 Meeting a new family member and Wire

“My brother has moved to Gotham and I intend to visit them tonight as Robin.” Damian announced as everyone began to eat dinner.

“You have. A brother?” Tim haltingly asked as he looked at Damian.

“Tt. That is what I said. I advise not attempting to contact him unless he invites you into his home.”

“Damian. Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?” Bruce asked.

“It was irrelevant. Danyal is older than me and had been deemed a failure by the time Mother and Grandfather decided to make me. I had been under the impression that he had been disposed of. In a way, I suppose he was, seeing as he was placed in the hands of some scientists who worked for the league.”

“But he’s back. Do you know what he wants?” Tim asked as Bruce disassociated.

“He would not go into detail but it seems that the scientists who raised him have found a purer and more radioactive Lazarus water. It is why I am meeting him tonight so he can turn over the more sensitive information without the league hearing about it.”

“Damian.” Bruce started before rethinking what he was going to say. “I would like to come with. He may be your brother but he is also an unknown.”

“I am aware Father. That is why I am telling you now. You cannot come with me but I will stay in contact and keep the com channel open throughout the entire exchange.”

“I would still prefer”

“Father. You will not come with. Danyal has expressly forbade you from meeting him.”

“That makes this even more suspicious! If not me then at least bring Dick with you.”

“Richard is in Bloodhaven and will not be able to get here in a timely manner. I am going alone.” Damian said before standing up and walking off.

“Damian!”

“Give it a rest B. He’s on a mission and I have a feeling he’ll go alone no mater what you say. If anything we could try to tail him but I have a feeling he’ll be on the lookout for that.”

“Hn.”

👻🦇👻🦇

“Akhi. You have fortified this place well.” Damian complimented as he walked into the office of the warehouse where Danny had made his base. It had been years since Danny had looked into the child that was meant to replace him after he failed one too many missions for Grandfather's liking. But to see that his little brother had managed to escape the league made Danny’s core hum happily.

“Thank you, Dams. But we aren’t here for pleasantries.” Danny said as he walked over to the single desk in the room and pulled a thick file out of one of the drawers. “In here is a brief rundown of the Fenton's research as well as a law that has recently passed that is in violation of”

Before Danny could finish talking there was a loud crash and a string of expletives.

“What the fuck! Who puts two wire traps mere inches from each other!” The voice shouted before the sound of a body hitting the floor. A few moments later the voice started yelling again as they fell into another trap.

“A friend of yours Dams?” Danny asked while he watched the door.

“A member of our family. Unfortunately. I had told Father not to come and I was hoping the fact that it was in Crime Allie would discourage Drake. I had not counted on Father getting Todd involved.” Damian sighed before walking over to the folder.

“As long as he does not wake up the littles I could care less. Perhaps we should help him out?” Danny asked. Not noticing Damian’s head snapping up to stare at him.

“Littles? You did not inform me of anyone else.”

“Hm. Long story short? You are an uncle to two little ones.”

“ALL RIGHT! WHO SET UP ALL THOSE… Demon brat. I should have known.” Red Hood said as he barged into the office. Causing twin crys to echo from a door on the opposite side of the main door. “Are those?”

“Yes, and your entrance has just woken up my kids. Dams? I have also left a number in the folder if you need to contact me. I will be off now.” Danny said as he began to walk towards the door the cries were coming from.

“There is a family brunch every Wednesday at ten in the morning. I request you to be there so that I can meet the new members of our family. Father would also like to meet you.” Damian said while ignoring Jason’s stuttering.

“I will think about it. Until next time Dams.” Danny replied before disappearing through the door.

[rauferes]

I love the idea that, while Emmrich has a long and colorful history when it comes to sex and sensuality, it's been a couple years since he last was involved with anyone. A heart can only stand to be broken so many times in a row, ok, even for a hopeless romantic. Sometimes the weight of loving people who will never stay, who will never want you back, hurts a little too much to breathe. Hurts a little too much to keep trying.

...so he's blindsided when Rook waltzes into his life. Not about falling in love, no-- Emmrich has fallen in love with every person he's fallen into bed with, just about, that's no surprise. It's his body that shocks him, the endless well of desire. They're curled up together lazily on Rook's couch when Emmrich catches the scent of Rook's hair, and it skips straight past his brain and suddenly he's aching hard and edging his hips back, blushing furiously. Anything and everything does him in, it seems-- when Rook shoots him a look under their lashes. When Rook moves particularly gracefully on the battlefield. When Emmrich is taking his turn cooking for the team, and thinks, in passing, of Rook's mouth. When Rook gives him a chaste good night kiss.

He's over fifty, for goodness' sake, he thought he was past this... this embarrassing, undignified nonsense! It was supposed to be one of the vanishingly few positives of growing older!

Just. Honeymoon phase that hits Emmrich like a truck and throws him into a tizzy about his dignity and lack of refinement.

Rook just responds by getting very, very good at identifying the closest semi-private hideyhole to drag Emmrich into. Rook is, needless to say, having the time of their life.

[joeldarling]

Sweet Girl - Oldman!Joel x F!reader (+18)

Summary: You’ve been watching Joel for a long time and when Maria puts you to take care of the horses, you discover that he’s watching you too.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! F!reader, porn without a bigger plot, AGE GAP (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is 60), no reader description at all, fingering (f receiving), handjob in general. Not a long thing, sorry.

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: English it’s not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any typos. At this point I feel like oldman!Joel and I have a long term thing and I love it. You can find more spicy and oldman!Joel in my masterlist as well. Feedbacks are utterly appreciated and my requests are always open. 💌

You have known him long enough to realize that Joel Miller is definitely not the man for you. Your parents disapproved of how rude he was to everyone except his own daughter, how he had arrived years later in Jackson and seemed to own absolutely everything with his head held high and not even tolerating minuscule offenses that the rest of the population there would have found harmless.

You were born and raised in Jackson, long twenty years where you never knew anything in the world beyond the fragile walls of the apocalypse. Your father didn't let you go on patrol with the others, and as an important figure on the council, he had enough authority to spare you from that… but you wanted more. You wanted to know the world or what was left of it, you wanted to face something to feel worthy of such protection when certainly there were people out there who didn't have the same privileges.

Maybe that's why you didn't refuse when Maria offered you a temporary job in the stables, promising that she would soon transfer you to the dilapidated and moth-eaten library they were trying to preserve, even without any regular readers. Maybe that's why you didn't respond sharply when Joel arrived with his horse, asking you to help him, and then started returning every single day.

You started wearing your best clothes, which wasn't much, especially there, and started caring more about your appearance, even though no one was there to notice how eager you seemed to attend a manual labor job that involved dealing with animal dirt and vaccinating them, something Joel taught you very well. He would gently take your hand, his rough skin against yours in a delicate way, you could feel his calluses and it sent waves of heat all over your body.

You had never touched yourself before, your father used to say it was a sin, but you knew that not even he believed in God, after all, wouldn't He have spared everyone years ago when it all started?

Then, you discovered the pleasures of knowing your body and felt slightly dirty, felt that thinking about Joel while reaching your orgasm was almost like a mistake, but his smell, something between whiskey and outdated men's cologne, his deep voice and everything else... drove you crazy.

You didn't stop him when he cornered you against the wall for the first time; he was even older than your own father. Joel's suffocating presence soaked your worn cotton panties and he knew it. He had been watching you from afar since the moment you walked into Tipsy Bison months ago, wearing a short dress, and despite feeling immensely guilty, he didn't let it go to his head. Joel was grateful that your father was a big idiot for protecting you from all those stupid men who stared at you like you were a piece of meat in the city. Including himself.

When he found out you were in the stables, he couldn't contain himself. He claimed he would just admire from afar, but the solicitous way you treated him... Joel wasn't made of iron, he was the worst kind of man. And even with his age and being considerably attractive, he had never dared to give in to anyone since he arrived in Jackson.

Not until you.

He pressed his body against the wall, staring into your big eyes that blinked slowly, completely hungry for you. Joel attacked your lips and didn't even care about the possibility of Tommy or Maria walking in at any moment, he needed to devour you, and he did. He pushed up your yellowish-white lace dress, bringing his rough hands to your pussy over your panties, groaning against your lips as he realized you were already wet for him. Joel deduced that you were a virgin and wouldn't dare to be such an asshole, no matter how much he wanted to mark you as his own. He massaged your clit with his fingers slowly and pulled his face away from your mouth just to capture your reaction; you looked like you were about to melt right there, just for him.

Joel groaned undeniably, his own cock hardening against his dark, slightly tight jeans, begging for some kind of relief, fantasizing about fucking you right there and making you moan loud enough for everyone in Jackson to know who you would belong to very soon. Despite being in his sixties, Joel still had a lot of stamina; you awakened his wildest side.

“Such a good girl that ya’ are… Already wet for your old man, hm?” His voice was completely hoarse, his breathing ragged as you felt your own body tremble with the pleasure granted by his brief touch. Joel continued, as if all that mattered was the fact that you were so vulnerable to him. And maybe it was. “Gonna make ya’ cum for me, bet your virgin tight cunt wont’t hold much longer and then… Sweet girl, I’ll find a way to be in the middle of your legs paintin’ ya’ white with my milk.”

“Joel… Please…” You moaned, sighing as his touch seemed to be in every single one of your bones at the same time, his fingers moving in circles on your pussy while his own mouth was busy kissing your lips, neck, and exposed collarbone. You knew you'd have problems later, but you didn't even care when he made a point of marking your neck with a hickey.

“Cum for me, darlin’. Lemme see this pretty pussy of yours pulsin’ just for me.” He asked, and you seemed to hesitate as you realized you were the only one receiving something, but he looked deep into your eyes and shook his head no. “Nuh-uh, later, sweetheart.”

And then, you felt the peak, but Joel didn't stop like you always did when you felt yourself getting there. Your eyes rolled freely in their sockets and you felt your legs tremble. He was still there, moving his fingers and giving you every extra instant of pleasure. When he finally pulled his fingers away from your pussy, Joel brought them to his own lips, tasting you, his eyes still dark and his own cock clearly hard and needing attention. He would never be satisfied with just a little of you.

“There you go, good girl. So sweet for me.” He held you more carefully, bringing one hand to your hair and pushing the graying curls back in an attempt to look minimally presentable, and then looked deep into your eyes and said: “On your knees, honey. I’mma teach ya’ a lesson and then take care of ya’.”

And you did, you obeyed him. How could you not?

[talon-the-hawk]

Yandere! Batfam x Neglected Streamer! Reader

Next

Chapter 0: Raid

TW: guns mentioned, drugs mentioned

The men with guns and dogs came to your door on October 29th, when you were only 6 years old.

At first, there was a faint knocking. Mama always told you not to answer the door for strangers, so you hardly paid it any attention. The knocks grew louder and more frequent after a couple of minutes, but that wasn't anything unusual. Lots of people wanted to see your Mama, pounding on the door every hour of the night as she exchanged white powder for cash.

You were in the kitchen, small hands clumsily scribbling on the back of the worn Chinese takeout menu as several men flooded in through the door and past the living room. The screams of sirens came rushing in along with the cold air, and you sat there for a moment before attempting to dart under the table to hide. Of course, they saw you. It was almost impossible not to with the fading neon patterns on your ratty clothes. One of them scooped you up, holding you tight even as you squirmed. They kept asking for your Mama, voices overlapping as they questioned when you had last seen her and where she said she was going. Tears began to build up as the noises seemed to blur together, the loud barking of the dogs as they found drugs in the bedroom mixing with men talking into their walkie-talkies.

The crippling pressure in your chest rose as it all became too much, and soon enough you were sobbing into the man who held you. You hardly felt it as you were handed off to an older man, who wrapped you in his jacket as he cradled you close. Your trembling eventually ceased as he patted your back, whispering soft words in an attempt to calm you down. He brought you outside, minding the cracks in the old pavement as he brought you to the police car. He didn't attempt to take his jacket back, and you held onto it tighter. The fabric was heavy, and warm...definitely more expensive than anything your mom could've afforded. The seats of the car felt luxurious compared to the old wooden chairs in your Mama's house, and you resisted the urge to sink into the leather. The man got in beside you, motioning for cop in front of him to start driving as he explained things to you.

They were looking for your Mama. She was allegedly involved in a major drug smuggling business, with her home becoming a known harbor for illegal substances in exchange for a cut of whatever was made off it. The police had recently gotten a tip about a large shipment coming in, and decided to raid the place a day after it was supposed to have arrived.

You didn't really understand any of what he was saying, but you pretended to as the car pulled up to the station. He finally introduced himself as Jim Gordon, and told you he was going to make an attempt to send you to live with some of your family as the police sorted the whole thing out with your Mama. You were then ushered off to a room with no windows, where men in uniforms asked you all sorts of questions which you answered as best as you could.

No, your Mama never made you do anything you didn't want to.

No, you didn't know where she was.

No, you didn't know who this "Penguin" guy was.

Soon enough they left you alone, where you twiddled your thumbs in silence until Jim came back.

"Well kid...we found someone that you can stay with."

You felt yourself perk up slightly in response.

A family member? You have other family?

As far as you knew, it was only your Mama and you left. She never talked about anyone else, and you kind of just assumed they died before you were born.

"We've contacted your father, Bruce Wayne. He should come by to pick you up soon."

Yeah so uh this has been on the brain for a WHILE. What can I say? The Batman phase has been hitting real hard lately lmao. Lemme know if y'all wanna read more of this, because TRUST I have a plan for it.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Mayor's Daughter and the Outlaw

Summary: After ten years, you've finally got your shot at your revenge. You've found the Hero. You have him in your sights.

-----

Pull the trigger.

You’ve worked too hard not to pull the trigger. The sweat, blood and tears you’ve shed have been the least you’ve given to be here. The air is crisp and clean nearly a hundred feet up in a pine tree overlooking a remote forest. You’re probably the only person in the world capable of spotting the brown, camouflaged building spanning the length of the small river running through the valley. There’s a hologram of the river it’s covering playing over the building’s walls. Hell, there are even birds flicking occasionally across the illusion, not often enough to draw attention, but just often enough their movement sends your eyes darting to other trees, trying to find where they went.

You breathe in the scent of sun-heated sap so slowly that it takes a solid minute for your lungs to expand. Your pupils flex and adjust whenever the wind rocks your tree. The window you’ve been staring at for the past hour remains in your focus.

The Sun, hair just as fake-gold as it was ten years ago, sleeps on. He’s definitely older now that you can see him in real life instead of on magazine covers or under studio lights. The skin of his neck is loose and folded under the weight of his chin drooping towards his chest. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The bastard still has the audacity to dream. His arms are crossed over the sun motif emblazoned across his breastplate, his dust-covered boots kicked up on his desk so you can see how worn the soles are. Judging by the way his lips tremble, he’s snoring.

Pull the trigger.

You exhale. This is when you should do it. When your shoulders drop and the wind dies so that, for a moment, the world stands still. There are no whispers across the canopy. Every bough is frozen. The reflection of the sun in the river is overcome by a well-timed cloud and the Sun’s head tilts back to expose the long line of his throat.

The trigger presses back against your finger like an eager puppy. There’s nothing special about the bullets, nothing special about this gun. It’s not the right weapon for what you’re asking it to do, but you’ve had longer and harder shots. You know that you’ll shoot true and the confidence steadies your hand even more. You smoothly pull--

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back.

Your pupils dilate at the memory. For a moment you don’t see the Sun; you see her with her face burned as red as her prom dress. You try to dispel the image, try to remember that she didn’t die in her prom dress, but it’s too late.

I want you to live, Elian.

You’re suddenly aware of how your lungs ache and your legs burn from the way they’re wrapped around the tree and the bark is digging into your cheek and your fingers are like ice on the trigger. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. This is the Sun’s private residence. The security must be insane even if there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. What’s your exit strategy again? Your thoughts scatter as her voice rings through your head again.

More than anything, I want you to live.

-------Ten years ago----

You’re what the heroes tactfully call a nuisance. A juvenile delinquent with powers, aka a kid that the police aren’t equipped to handle and the local Hero chapter is too overqualified and too understaffed to address often.

 Your moral compass has never had a true north and it only gets worse the more your powers develop. Soon you aren’t just stealing your mom’s car – you’re stealing the neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s neighbor’s until you’re breaking into houses at the top of the hill and joyriding in a car worth more than your entire neighborhood together.

You find out pretty quickly that the heroes care a lot more when money is involved.

You spend your first night in jail after getting chased for three hours in a neon green lambo by the four heroes packed like sardines in a standard issue SUV. It’s laughably easy to out-drive them, choking around corners and careening down alleys that you scouted in the afternoon. Honestly, it would have been easy to get away, but your mom called just as the tank hit empty, asking when you were coming home.  You decided to give the heroes a break before they decided to play too rough with a minor.

Mom isn’t thrilled when you tell her you won’t be home in time for school tomorrow.

You kind of expect to be sent to prison the next day when you find out just whose car you stole. The Mayor’s daughter’s car, bought new for her seventeenth birthday a month ago. There are two open secrets about the mayor. One, he’s probably one of the heroes that protect the city judging from how much he praises them every time there’s a mic nearby. Two, he loves his daughter more than anything else.

So when you’re released the next day with a slap on the wrist? Yeah, you’re surprised.

When you’re released the next day to find the golden-haired, blue-eyed Mayor’s daughter waiting outside? Having just bailed you out?

You feel fear for the first time.

“You could have at least crashed it,” she says when she notices you gaping at her from the end of the parking lot. She’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV that looks a lot like the one the heroes chased you in last night. She waves a hand in the air. “Dad says the dents you put in the side will be out by tomorrow.”

Fear, apparently, makes you snarky. “What, you wanted to spend another week getting chauffeured by a hero?”

Her brows jerk up towards her hairline. She throws a glance over her shoulder. “You seeing ghosts? Nobody’s in there. I drove myself.”

“Good for you,” you say. You think you smell. They didn’t give you access to a shower last night. You’re upwind from her and damnit why are you embarrassed if you smell or not? Your chin jerks forward in a challenge. “You gonna give me a ride back home?”

You’re joking, but she nods like it was the plan all along. “Let’s go.”

Is that an answering challenge in her words? Your teeth grind as you force yourself forward. “Very kind of you,” you chirp, swinging up into the passenger seat. The car smells like leather and justice. “Just drop me off on the other side of the train tracks. I can find my way home from there.”

She snorts. “Is that a Footloose reference? Very dated.”

You stare at her profile. “…No. I literally live on the other side of the tracks.”

She flushes. “Right. Well…I’m not dropping you off yet. I want to talk first.”

The doors are locked. You swallow as she carefully pulls out of the parking lot and then guns it into the road without looking. Luckily, no one’s there. “Talk? About what?”

“About how you’re going to steal my car again,” she says. “And this time you’re going to crash it right.”

“You hate the color that much?” you joke.

Her tone is not joking. “You have no idea.”

You don’t find out her name until dinner when your mom’s managed to entice her into a third slice of homemade pizza. She stares down at the slice while your mom waves for you not to stay up too late before going to bed early. Gamely, you’re already on your fifth helping. Criminal activity takes a lot of energy.

“Does your mom know who I am?” she asks.

“Like, in theory,” you say. You’re full and warm as you lean into the hard wooden back of your chair. Mom added olives to your side of the pizza. “She probably doesn’t know you’re the Mayor’s daughter though. Just that he has one.”

“The Mayor…right,” she says. Her jaw firms. She flicks some olives off her pizza and then eats half the slice in one bite. “I’m Gina.”

“Elian,” you say instead of No, you’re the Mayor’s Daughter. You refill her soda cup before your own, just to show her you can be fancy and have manners too. She’s so out of place in your family’s one bedroom apartment. Her shirt is crisp and white, her gold necklace so shiny, that it’s like there’s a sepia filter over the eggshell walls and oak cabinets. “Sprite. Only the finest for the lady who bailed me out.”

“I’m thinking you can take my car next weekend,” Gina says so abruptly you nearly spit out your soda. There’s a hard light in her eyes. “Dad’s out of town for…business. He won’t notice for a few days. You take it, you get out of the city, you drive it off a cliff once you’ve wrecked it doing donuts or whatever.”

“A cliff?” You know exactly where she’s talking about. There’s an abandoned quarry about an hour outside of town. You shake your head. “That’s where people dump bodies. No way am I going out there.”

“They find bodies there because it’s outside of Hero Force’s patrol,” Gina says. She waves her hands in the air so the yellow light from the inset ceiling lights catches on her golden manicure. “If you think about it, it’s the best place to dump a car. Especially when the heroes are going to be out of town.”

You stare at her. “Did you just admit your dad is part of Hero Force?”

Her eyes skitter away from yours. “No.”

“Your dad is out of town next weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And the heroes?”

“Maybe they’re traveling together.”

“I don’t think anyone is supposed to know when the heroes are going to be out of town. Isn’t that like a national secret, or something?”

“We’re not a big enough chapter for it to be a national secret,” she denies. She bites her lip. “Probably a state secret though.”

You stand and your chair chatters against the linoleum. “No. Absolutely not.” It’s time for Ms. Mayor’s Daughter to leave.

She scrambles up after you, following you into the living room. “Why not?! You already mess with the heroes. Weren’t you the one who kept breaking into the mall on a motorcycle? You hijacked one of their delivery trucks a month ago—”

“A food delivery truck,” you say. “Which was more of a commentary about the city’s investment in Hero Force luxury rather than after school programs—” You bite your tongue. You spin so that the couch stays between you. You glance at your mom’s closed door and consciously lower your voice. “How do you even know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” she says. She laughs without humor, dragging one hand through her golden hair. “Sometimes living in this town is like being in a simulation. We have four A-class heroes for a population of 30,000 and everybody loves them. Nobody thinks it’s strange to have walking nukes in a small town. They love my dad. Did you know no one’s even run against him for the past two elections? It doesn’t matter what he does. He owns this place and these people. He has – could commit murder and it would be justified. People would think it would be justice.”

“He loves you,” you say weakly. Isn’t four heroes a pretty normal number? Sure, the ones in your town are big names, but that’s not weird.

Is it?

“He loves me so he gets to be a tyrant?” Gina scoffs. “If he’s even capable of love.”

“I’m not going to mess around with heroes’ civilian identities just because you’ve got daddy issues,” you say. When hurt flashes across her face, you wince. “Sorry. But it’s one thing to mess with heroes in masks, okay? Messing with a hero’s family—”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were stealing my car the other night.”

“That was before I knew your dad was Mr. Solve or whatever—”

“The Sun,” Gina says.

“What?”

“My dad’s the Sun.”

“That,” you say, “is so much worse. Didn’t he burn some minor villain’s eyes out last week?”

“Yes,” Gina says. Her mouth twists. “The guy got off easy compared to some others.”

You stare at her, momentarily speechless. “And you wonder why I’m not going to antagonize the guy?”

“But you already do,” Gina says. Her eyes are glinting. She looks so out of place against the dim interior of your home, a radiant girl dressed all in white and gold. She rounds the couch and snatches up one of your hands between two of her own. “Everyone else loves my dad. Except you. My entire life, and you’re the only one who dares to make—make statements about Hero Force consumption by stealing their deliveries or make the heroes chase you around an abandoned mall on foot like regular people. You challenge them, Elian. All I’m asking is that you do it again.”

“That sounds like a lot more than just crashing your car,” you say. Your voice sounds very far away. You never thought of your actions as so noble. There’s a tingling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before and your hand is so warm. She sees you. You shake the fantasy out of your head. “I—look. I’m flattered, but I’m not your guy. The heroes know my face. It’s only a matter of time before I get sent to whatever detention super-powered kids get sent to. I have to graduate high school.”

Rather than discourage her, Gina presses closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to do both?”

Her closeness fogs your brain. “Both?”

“Take the heroes down a notch and maintain your identity,” she says. She releases you and whirls to get her purse off the couch. “I can help you. We can train so that the heroes never recognize the new you. You can use your powers in new ways. And you can wear this.”

She thrusts a piece of chewed leather into your hands. A mask.

“I’m thinking,” she says, “we call you Outlaw.”

------ Now ----

You can’t shoot. Night is falling by the time you admit it to yourself. You press your back against the rough bark of the tree and stare up at the first stars. You cradle your gun in your hands.

The bloodlust is still there. You aren’t a fair lily incapable of staining your petals red (as red as her). So why can’t you pull the trigger? Because of her ghost? Her last message to you?

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back. More than anything, I want you to live, Elian.

You grind your teeth. Easy for her to say. The dying never have to feel the weight of consequence. They can just say whatever the fuck they want.

You aren’t thinking when you climb down the tree. Your powers give you a lot of things – speed and healing, an instinct for the outdoors, and excellent eyesight. You don’t need to look to find one branch and another, dropping to the forest floor in ten-foot increments. By the time your boots hit the ground, you know what the problem is.

Unlike your other kills, this one is personal. It was never going to be enough just to see him dead. You need him to know why you’ve got him in your sights.

The Sun is an old school hero. The traps you were so afraid of are predictable, turns out. You pick your way around bear traps and landmines, sharp eyes easily picking out silver trip wire when it glints in the moonlight. There are cameras, but there’s likely only one person with access. In the past ten years of following the Sun, you’ve learned two things about him.

One, he’ll kill the things he loves before he loses them.

Two, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.

You get to the building inside of an hour. The first floor is hidden by steel shutters and there’s no light peeking out from behind them. The second floor window where he’d been sleeping for most of the day shines with the faint blue glow of a television.

The front door looks like a bank’s with how thick it is. There’s a keypad and a biometric scanner you don’t have a prayer of hacking.

That’s okay. You’ve already seen your way in.

You climb up the nearest pine tree. The Sun likes to think of himself as a competent hero, but too many mayoral kickbacks over the years made him soft. He surrounded himself with powerful heroes and never once struggled to win. Because of that, he’s missing some caution and common sense. The building’s first floor is locked up tight, but the windows on the second are regular glass.

And he hasn’t trimmed the tree line back far enough.

You fire your first shot of the night into his empty desk chair, exactly where his chest had been hours earlier. Immediately a siren sounds, and the TV glow coming through the office’s open door is consumed by bright light. You run two steps and then leap, neatly flipping through the empty window frame. Your boots slide for a moment on the broken glass and you catch yourself on the edge of his desk. There are medical papers scattered across it, prescriptions and diagrams of the face and eyes and heart.

You chew your cheek at the sight of a pill bottle. There had been rumors that the Sun is sick with his own radiation poisoning. It’s good you’re here before nature runs its course.

The siren wails for another beat before dying. The silence rings. Your heartbeat picks up as your ears strain to hear if anyone’s coming to meet you. Strange. The Sun had to have been the one who shut off the alarm.

So where is he?

You hold your gun out in front of you and check your mask. The Sun knows who you are by now, but you want him to see the mask she gave you. The handsewn leather, patched more times than you can count, is recycled from one of his old leather jackets. It feels oddly poetic to be dressed in the first iteration of your costume, cowboy hat tipped back and a biker vest embroidered with the name she gave you.

Is the Sun hiding? You creep out of the office, eyes darting from the quaint landscapes hanging on the wall to the tasteful wooden floors. The Sun’s safe house feels more cabin-y than you expected. The property deed has been in his name for the past fifteen years. Did Gina ever visit? Her ghost runs ahead of you, golden nails dragging along the peach wallpaper to the first open door on the left. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

There are times when you’re glad for the afterimages your brain conjures. This is not one of those times. You don’t think she’d be happy to see what you’re about to do.

You swing around the doorway gun first, a snarl on your lips. “You old bastard, drop what—”

The smell of antiseptic hits your nose first, dashing away the red haze filling your vision in an instant. A TV murmurs against the wall, some rerun of an old western, but it’s not what holds your attention.

There’s a bed in the center of the room. The Sun sits at bedside, his attention wholly invested on the hand he’s holding up. Carefully, he applies gold paint to the nails without once looking up at you.

The woman in the bed is obscured with white gauze and beige compression bandages. Her breathing is soft and even. The one eye you can see is closed and still. No dreaming, no awareness.

“Outlaw,” the Sun says. He gently sets Gina’s left hand down on her stomach and picks up her right. He squints at her pinky nail. “Close the office door, would you? I don’t want the heat to escape.”

“What,” you breathe, “the fuck.”

-----Ten years ago ----

It’s a good year with Gina. You never realized how friend-starved you were until she was there, over at your house every day after school. She always makes it sound like she’s coming over to talk about the Outlaw thing, but there’s other stuff too. Movies and cooking and tutoring.

“Life is about balance,” Gina says sagely during one such tutoring session. “Besides, even heroes don’t go on more than two missions a month. We’re doing just fine.”

There’s always a pressing need to do more though. Whenever you pull off a particularly daring heist, she smiles this secret and pleased smile that makes your stomach flip. Sometimes, when the two of you watch news coverage of your getaways, she murmurs how impressed she is, how smart you are, how cool your powers are.

It makes you want to do anything for Gina.

You’re watching the news one day, waiting for a recap of how you stole the Sun’s favorite shield from the armory, when a rare story comes on. A Hero is dead, some guy named Ibis from Atlanta. There aren’t any leads to the culprit except for eyewitness accounts of a mysterious, winged super-powered individual flying low over the city, hiding in storm clouds.

“I’d kill a Hero,” you blurt out.

Gina jerks so hard that the popcorn bowl goes flying out of her hands. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“N-not your dad or anything,” you say quickly although yes, if you had to kill anyone, you’d start with the man who makes Gina cry like that. “Just…in general. The news anchor said Ibis was connected to a civilian’s death, right? I could kill a Hero like that.”

“No,” Gina says. She drops off the couch to kneel by you. “No, Elian.”

You flush like you’ve done something wrong. You sink into your hoodie. “I’m not going to, I’m just saying—”

“If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back,” Gina says. She’s too close, so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in her eyes. “Your life—it’s not like what we’ve been doing. Dad’s got rules when it comes to stealing. But if you kill a hero?” She shudders. “I want you to live, Elian.”

“I got it—”

“Please,” she blurts out. The plea in her voice makes you really look at her despite the pounding of your heart. Her eyes are wild and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. “No matter what. Promise me.”

“I—” No matter what? You slowly shake your head, trying to get away from the instinctive desire to agree with her. “I-if someone is really bad, I’d—”

“Elian—”

The tension makes you truthful.

“If your dad hurt you, I’d kill him,” you say. When she rears back, this time you follow. You brace your arm against the couch so you can lean into her space. With your other hand, you trace the fading burn on her cheek that could pass for an old sunburn if you didn’t know the truth. “I know you don’t think he will, but he’s been erratic lately. And I know about his temper. If he hurts you, I’d kill him.”

The air thickens between you. It’s rare that you don’t back down, but you’re not backing down now, staring into her eyes. Competing wills. For a moment you let everything you feel come to the surface. Your frustration when she visits with that fucking shadow in her smile, the helplessness when there’s another burn on her arm, the adoration when she’s just there.

Gina shudders and looks away first. She licks her lips. “I—I…appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. You agreed I got to make the rules for Outlaw. I’m telling you one. Don’t kill heroes.”

She’s pulling away. You do too, falling to her side and sitting next to her rather than hovering over her. You try for a careless shrug but fall short. How can she make you feel so powerful one second and so powerless the next? You avert your eyes. “I won’t kill heroes,” you promise.

You hear her suck in a breath. “Good. Because I need you alive.”

“I do like being alive,” you say and don’t finish the sentence with with you.

“We’re done studying,” she decides. She darts up towards the kitchen. “I’m getting another bowl of popcorn before we start the movie. You want some?”

You stare at your reflection in the dark TV. Your jaw works. Finally, you say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll just eat it off the floor.”

“Don’t be gross, Elian!”

------Now.----

“I will regret that day for the rest of my life,” the Sun says. He hasn’t looked at you once. His eyes are glued to the steady rise and fall of Gina’s chest. He times his breathing to hers and then sighs. “What a fool I was. Drunk on power.”

You’re standing on the opposite side of the bed. Your gaze flicks from Gina to him and back again. “Is she ever conscious?”

“It’s a medically-induced coma,” the Sun says. “The doctors say she should wake up any day now that most of her injuries have healed. Her last surgery was the final one. Now it’s up to her.”

This might be the first time in ten years that you’ve breathed. You suck in air greedily and imagine you can taste her scent under the layers of sickness and medicine. “They told me she died.”

“I told Hero Force you did it,” the Sun says. There’s no remorse in his voice. “They always tell villains they were successful, so they don’t try again.”

A decade of rage slides around your ribs. “You fucking bastard.”

“I did think it was your fault ten years ago.” He carefully picks up Gina’s left hand again to apply a second coat. It takes all your willpower not to slap him away from her. “If you hadn’t stolen Hero Force data, I wouldn’t have had to come after you with my full power. She would never have been in the line of fire.”

You’re fists shake at your sides. “I didn’t steal Hero Force data, I stole your fucking car. Don’t rewrite history.”

“There was Hero Force data in that car.”

“It was your Porsche, your civilian Porsche!”

“My fault to have left sensitive data out,” the Sun says. His confession surprises you into silence. “But I had to get it back no matter what. Then I blamed you by thinking how if you’d only asked me to take my daughter to Prom, I would’ve known she was in the car.”

“She’s not your property and it’s not the 1800s, of course I didn’t ask if I could take your daughter to—”

“I’m telling you what I thought,” the Sun interrupts. He finally looks at you. He looks worse than he did earlier, the years cutting deep lines into his face. There are black bags of exhaustion under his watering eyes. He breathes out shakily. “I had to tell myself it was your fault. It was the only way I could survive, Elian.”

Your real name shocks you. You stumble back. “How do you know that name?”

“She calls for you sometimes,” the Sun says. He drags a hand over his face before grimly returning to his daughter’s nails. “She’s never been really conscious for long. The d-damage took a long time to heal. But when she’s awake, she calls for you and she calls for Outlaw. Wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

Your chest throbs. “I should have been here. You should have—I could have—”

“Blaming you let me keep her by my side,” the Sun says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even understand me. But I…I regret more than anything what I’ve done to my daughter.”

“You’re going to regret it even more,” you say. The rage you feel is like a tidal wave. Ten years. Ten years. You could have held her hand through her recovery. You could have been there for her. And this selfish asshole who never even loved her like a father should took that away from you. You remember your gun. “You never deserved to be her father.”

“I didn’t, did I?” the Sun asks. He sets her hand down and swallows hard. He looks down the barrel of your gun without flinching. “She says one other thing, you know. When she asks for you.”

The curiosity stills your trigger finger. “What?”

“She says, Don’t kill heroes.”

Your face contorts. There’s the memory of popcorn in your mouth and the heat of her eyes on you. “Yeah, she said that to me before too. Back when I offered to kill you the first time.”

The Sun hangs his head. If he’s surprised to hear that, he doesn’t show it. “I wasn’t a good father.”

“No. But she didn’t want you dead.”

Understanding dawns. “Don’t kill heroes.”

“Exactly.” You tilt your head. “Do you feel like a hero?”

His lips tremble. His gaze drifts back to his daughter. Her eyes are flickering under eyelids. “I—I—”

The trigger presses back against your finger, eager and ready. “Do you?”

He licks his lips. “N-no,” he whispers. He closes his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

This time, it’s easy to take aim. Steady your breath. And—

Fuck.

“Leave,” you say. You drop your gun back to your side and scowl when the Sun’s eyes fly open in surprise. “If you do what I say, you’ll live long enough for Gina to decide what to do with you. Leave and don’t tell anyone about this.”

The Sun shakes his head. “No, no I can’t leave her—”

“Then die here,” you snap. You bare your teeth at him. “Leave. We’ll be gone in a week. Maybe she wakes up and calls you. Maybe she—” You take a deep breath. “Well. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, your part is done here.”

“I need to be there when she wakes up. Please, I’m her dad—”

“You’re her murderer,” you say. More than anything, you want to pick Gina up and run out of here before the Sun can stop you. You eye the monitors and know three people you need to call for advice before you even attempt to move her. A week should be just enough time to disappear. “You think you deserve to stay by her side?”

The Sun opens his mouth twice before he finds words. “I just—let me stay until she wakes up. That way I’ll know.”

“I spent ten years thinking she was dead,” you say. “You can last a month in limbo. If I have to ask you again, we’ll finally see who’s stronger now that I’m all grown up.”

The Sun picks himself up slowly. You think he cries. You’re not sure. He may even plead with you again. You’re deaf to it. Your brain has given up on splitting your attention and every atom of your being is homed in on Gina.

She’s alive. She’s alive.

You kneel at her bedside and wait for her to wake up.

----

Thanks for reading! If you want to read more of work or get access to stories like this a week (or more!) early, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! This week's short story for my Triple Shot and above tiers is about a world where being loved adds years to your lifespan!

Based off this prompt (X): Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

[optimisticmosquito]

heavenly demon SY au, with a teaspoon of familial cumplane and a pinch of shenliushen.

Some decade before the tianxi era TLJ has a one night stand with a male demon who gets pregnant. Surprise! it's airplane who wanted a taste of that doomed heavenly pillar. He's older than MBJ in this au and hasn't had the chance to meet young MBJ yet. MBJ has enough on his plate without some random older demon howering around him. SQH is many things a creep he is not, thank you very much.

So instead he gets pregnant by TLJ, has a cry session, wonders if he's going to birth the protagonist, cries some more over all the death flags he has raised for himself, and then just accepts his fate. TLJ doesn't care much about this little surprise, it was just a one night stand after all. However, his advisors have been nagging him about getting hitched and producing heirs, so he sees his chance to finally getting rid of one problem by throwing the other one at it. Very clever indeed!

SQH becomes TLJs first concubine. SQH does not become empress, but until TLJ marries further, he's as good as one. So SQH (with babybump proudly on display) starts fixing up TLJs court, all administrative tasks, and generally making it run smoother than it has for generations. TLJ is happy as can be, finally he can leave his empire for months on end to follow his true calling, reading and watching every human romance story that has ever been produced!

SQH gives birth to a healthy baby boy. But before he can think of naming him LBH, the System interrupts and has him name it SY instead (weird cause neither him nor TLJ is named Shen). SQH figures this is either another transmigrator or the system has plans involving this child. Which, dude, hands off his spawn! Not cool.

SY grows up as the apparent heir to the entire demon realm. Which is awesome! He can pretty much do anything he wants whenever he wants. But also, what about LBH? He isn't meant to be the demon emperor, that's his future didis job! Fuck, he is going to have to fight LBH for the throne isn't he? He's so dead.

It doesn't help that his mother (second father? He's not going to think too long on the logistics behind his birth) is strange even for demonic standards. For a demon he is increadibly skittish, always avoiding conflict like the plague. And he constantly walks around muttering to himself, stoping the moment anyone comes within hearing distance. Although, SY has to admit he's a pretty good parent all things considered. He always makes sure SY has everything he needs and puts away at least one day a week just for the two of them.

SY does find out who SQH is when he one day hears him mumble about the plot and LBH. SY interrogates him and finds out he's another transmigrator. That explains a lot! SQH is happy to learn his child is another transmigrator and not a puppet for the system to push its agenda. So happy in fact he spills he's actually the author of this world, which sends SY through the five stages of grief before circling back to anger. What do you mean that lousy hack author is his mother!?!? Someone end his misery, this should count as child abuse!

He has half of the mind to run away and never be seen again but SQH begs him to stay. He's only in this position bc SY exists and if SY runs away he might get kicked out or pressured into having another child. SY despite it all still on some level sees SQH as his parent and reluctantly agrees to stay and continue on his path as heir. He hasn't met TLJ that often and he knows TLJ wouldn't do anything to stop the rest of his court if they decided to kick SQH out.

So life continues until news arrive about TLJ being burried under a mountain. SQH tells SY that SXY is LBHs mother and probably imprisoned in HHP at that moment. They decide the best course of action would be to kidnap SXY and bring her to the demon realm. SQH should have enough control over the empire even with TLJ gone. Especially with SYs help as the de facto heir and a heavenly demon in his own right.

SY for his part is also fully on board with this plan. He can help raise the protagonist and give him the childhood he deserves? Count him in! It would also help to be on good terms with LBH if he ever decides to take over the demon realm. SY would gladly help him take the throne!

However, before they can set any plan in motion the system assigns them a mission to keep the demon realm from falling into chaos. Moments later the court splinters as factions start fighting each other over power, and the empire dives into unrest and civil war. At the end SY comes out on top and is crowned as the new emperor.

They are too late to do anything as the coldest day of the year has already passed. When they try and send people out to find the newborn LBH they are met by HHP cultivators searching for SXY and end up in multiple skirmishes. In the end SY pulls the demons back over the border when the sects, thinking SY is out to revenge his father, starts threatening with another war.

SY is beyond himself, now how will he escape the protagonists wrath!? SQH deals with the setback the only way he knows, by burying himself in the administrative work. The following years SY spends stabilizing the realm with SQHs help (it's mostly SQH), and starts travelling around to see what the world has to offer. He soon gets a reputation of taking after his father.

SQH all the while continues to run the realm by himself again (nothing new there) and meets the future king of the Northern desert, Mobei-jun. Mobei-jun of course immediately takes interest in the MILF of the demon realm. Half the time he acts like a frightened rodent, the other half he rules the demons with an iron fist, what demon wouldn't be besotted! (SY is well aware most of the realm seems to have the hots for his mother. He tries not to think about it.)

MBJ starts trying to court SQH in typical demonic fashion. H e tries to fight SQH, sends gifts in the form of treasures and kills, and gives over power of the northern desert to SQH. SQH is used to this type of treatment. Most demons seems to want to hit him for some reason? He just writes off the gifts as taxes. And isn't it only natural for demons to push all the work on those that are weaker. MBJ has his work cut out for him.

Meanwhile SY starts travelling the human realm in search of his lost little brother. He's hoping to at least find him before LBH joins CQM. He should be able to at least stop that much of the abuse LBH is meant to experience. And he does find him! At the steps of CQM 10 years after his disappearance. Shit.

SY doesn't dare get too close yet. His disguise isn't good enough to test the scrutiny of cultivators, so going up to LBH right now would be suicide. He decides to come back later, after getting an artifact that would let him hide every trace of his demonic presence. He has no plan on ending up like TLJ. Poor Binghe will just have to survive the tea scene and the first weeek on QJP. SY will make it up to you later! Promise!

SY only shortly returns to the palace to see MBJ is still trying his best to woo mother airplane (without success!). He goes back to the sect and walks directly up to QJP to find LBH, and is instead directed to the bamboo hut. There he's questioned about his intentions, and decides to speak the truth (well most of it). His little brother went missing years ago and now SY believes him to be on this very peak! He has returned to bring LBH back home.

SJ of course hates LBH for the similarities he has to himself, but who would have guessed he also was abandoned by his older brother? Fate is truly laughing him in the face! This won't make SJ hate LBH less, but he has no plan on just giving him over to this stranger who took too long to return for his didi (just like qi-ge). So SJ claims he isn't willing to give up a disciple just like that. Hoping SY will show his true colors and abandon the little beast once and for all. When SY instead doubles down on wanting to take LBH with him, SJ decide to test how far this determination will take him (prove you are not like qi-ge).

Which leaves SY to stay on QJP as a guest while being continuously tested by SJ. And with time they slowly befriend each other and spend time just to share a cup of tea and talk literature (if SJ slowly starts trusting SY with things he's never told anyone else then that's his business).

At some point SY successfully catches a moment with LBH where he introduces himself as LBHs elder brother from their father's side. He offers to take LBH with him and leave that moment, but after LBH has digesting these new revelations (he has a brother!), declines. His adoptive mother wanted him to be a righteous cultivator, so a cultivator he'll become!

SY, already unable to deny this little bun anything, just has to accept he'll have to spend some time on QJP. Maybe he'll be able to persuade LBH to join him once SJ decides he has passed all tests. It's not too bad, SY has complete access to the library and oh boy is there a lot of things he never learned about the human realm before.

At the same time he meets the rarely seen bai zhan peak lord. LQG immediately thinks something is fishy with this QJP guest, but he's not sure what exactly (his war god senses are tingling). So to SJs great annoyance he starts showing up more often, trying to figure SY out. He even invites SY on a few monster hunts to see if he slips up, but to no avail (there are a few close calls). The more time they spend together the more he finds he enjoys talking about beasts with SY (he'll take it to the grave how his stomach flutters when SY teases him). SY even succeeds in getting LQG to teach LBH some swordforms once in a while.

When SYs identity as the demon emperor is finally revealed, it's a surprise to all three of them.

(Once SY is finally able to return to the demon realm for a visit it's to MBJ introducing himself as SYs new stepdad)

[covenofagatha]

hiiii <33

Could you write something about Agatha being a little insecure about being older than the reader?

Maybe they're at a party and someone the reader's age is going to talk to her and Agatha feels jealous and a little insecure, but pretend not to feel anything?

Then they go home and the reader shows Agatha that she loves her more than anything :)

If it's not too much to ask, the reader could have an obsession with Agatha's breasts and... really like eating her out? (like, a *really* big obsession) (sorry, Mrs Fletcher is on my mind a lot lately)

sorry for the details, lol, this came to me in the middle of the night

and by the way, I love your writing <33 you write very well

and I'm looking forward to the but you are my stepmother update :D

kisseess <3

I may have changed the setting a little bit (I've been watching Succession and was influenced lol) but hopefully you like! Also, Mrs. Fletcher literally changed my life so I completely understand

I combined this one with another request for being obsessed with Agatha’s breasts

Happy New Year to everyone!

Glitter on the floor

When Agatha gets jealous at the company New Year's Eve party, you remind her that she has nothing to worry about

Word count: 4300

Warnings: oral sex, oral fixation, breast fixation, marking

“Do you think anyone would notice if we just leave before the party even starts?” You ask, throwing a stress ball up in the air and catching it without even looking. 

You’re laying on your back on the couch in Agatha’s office and she snorts from her seat at her desk. 

Unlike you, when Agatha said she was going up to her office to quickly read over a contract before the company New Year’s Eve party, she meant it. You had just followed her up here to see if she was willing to get up to any funny business. 

“You don’t think they would notice that the CEO and General Counsel of the company aren’t at the company party?” Agatha asks amusedly, sarcasm dripping from her tone. 

Spellbound Network is a multi-billion dollar news conglomerate that Agatha Harkness is the Chief Executive Officer of. She’s absolutely ruthless and doesn’t hesitate before tearing anybody and everybody down. Nothing will stand in her way of world domination. 

As General Counsel, you’re a little less important, but you know that Agatha is right. The last thing you need is people speculating. 

The two of you have been involved in a more than professional relationship for seven months now. It all started when you offered to stay late to help her finish up with some end-of-quarterly reviews before the deadline and the two of you had ended up going out for drinks when you had finally finished. Agatha had let her hair down and told you just how stressed she was, and you had stupidly told her that you could help her relieve some of that stress. 

She had raised an eyebrow and you had taken it as a challenge. The next thing you knew, she was calling a car and the two of you were making out in the backseat on the way to her penthouse. 

It had grown into a relationship, a relationship that no one else in the office knew about. Things were getting pretty serious, and Agatha had even brought up you moving in with her. 

But you roll your eyes anyway. “It’ll be boring,” you drag out the last word slowly, sitting up to face her. “Wouldn’t you rather go back to your place, or even just stay up here?” You give her an impish grin and a wink. 

It’s a lost cause. Agatha has never let you touch her nor has she touched you in the office. 

She fixes you with a glare. “If you’re not going to behave, you can go downstairs and help set up for the party.” 

You hum in acquiescence and you’re about to resume your position on your back when Agatha leans forward and props herself up on her elbows, pushing her visible cleavage together. 

Your mouth runs dry. She’s wearing a long black dress with a low neckline that puts her breasts — that you may or may not be obsessed with — very much on display. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did it to tease you. 

“Agatha,” you whine, trying to sound pathetic so she’ll take pity on you. You can practically taste her skin with how badly you want her. 

She knows what you’re thinking, as always. “Stop,” she says without even looking up from her desk. “You aren’t going to goad me into touching you. Hasn’t worked any other time, isn’t going to work now.” 

You pout. “What are you talking about? I’ve never tried to.” It’s a bold-faced lie and you both know it. 

“Oh yeah?” She asks, at last looking up at you. “So when you got me that vibrator for the Secret Santa at the Christmas party, ‘not realizing that it was a public gift swap’; that wasn’t an attempt to work me up? Or when you just happen to come in here almost every day and knock over my pens so you have to bend down and shake your ass in my face?” 

You can’t help but chuckle at the reminders of your brazenness. To be fair, you had genuinely thought that the Secret Santa swap would be done in a group but then the gifts would be opened alone. And much to your surprise, you were wrong and when Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, had announced that it was time for everyone to open their gifts, you had quickly dragged Agatha upstairs, making some excuse about a phone call about a breaking news story. 

She had been furious at almost having to open your gift in front of the entire staff, and instead of having a very Merry Christmas Eve, courtesy of your generous gift and a well-placed bribe to the person who had actually drawn Agatha in the swap, she hadn’t touched you at all that night. 

But Christmas Day was much better, when she had put you on your knees for almost an hour and you made her cum four times with just your mouth. 

“You’re not letting those go anytime soon, are you?” You mutter. 

She throws a paper clip at you. “Go downstairs and stop bothering me,” she orders, fondness still in her voice. 

You huff a big sigh, one that tells her that just because you’re obeying doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, and walk over to place the paper clip and stress ball back on her desk. You straighten out your own dress, a long maroon one, and lean over to press a chaste kiss to her lips. 

To your surprise, she lets you do it and she even deepens it, flicking her tongue against the entrance to your mouth. When she pulls away, her eyes are dark and you’re about to ask her to reconsider, but she ushers you away with her hand and turns back to the contract. 

There’s not very many people in the lobby where the party is taking place, so you stand alone at a table and accept a glass of champagne from a waitress. It’s only ten pm and you know most of the staff won’t get here until closer to midnight, which would’ve been smart. 

If only Agatha hadn’t insisted that you and her come in for the entire day and get ahead of all the stuff that’s coming up in the new year. She didn’t even let you go back to your apartment once you both had finished, instead letting you shower in her private adjoining bathroom. 

And she wonders why you’re already so bored; you’ve been at the office for fourteen hours. 

Still at least two more to go. 

You take another glass of champagne and set it down next to your already half-empty glass. You’re going to need it once more people start showing up. 

It’s not that you don’t like them, it’s just that…if the building was on fire, you’d only really think or care about saving Agatha. 

“Hey there, General Counsel,” Rio says, slinking up to you. 

You smile. She’s an oddball, but her wry sense of humor sometimes is the only thing that gets you through business trips. Besides Agatha, of course. 

And it’s not exactly a secret that she has a bit of a crush on you. On paper, it would make more sense than you and Agatha. Rio is your age, and for all intents and purposes, doesn’t have any power over you, nor you her. 

But you’re in love with Agatha, and older women have always been more your type anyway. You’re perfectly happy with being friends with Rio, and it seems that Rio is content with your relationship now too. 

“Hey, Rio,” you greet, lifting your glass in a silent toast to her. She lifts up the other one and smoothly downs it in one gulp. 

And then the elevator dings and Agatha steps out and you forget all about Rio and everyone else. Your eyes follow her as she glides through the lobby, not even looking at you once, and she picks up a plate of caviar while the Chief Financial Officer, Jimmy, goes to talk to her. 

Rio taps her fingers to the rim of the empty glass. “So, I heard Harkness is thinking about acquiring Hex Industries for better tech.” 

“Water cooler gossip,” you say dismissively, not wanting to talk anymore business for the day. You’ve done enough with that with Agatha. And then you lower your voice conspiratorially. “But I did hear that Jimmy got divorced again?” 

It sends Rio into a fit of giggles and the two of you swap the details you’ve heard from various people and try to piece together what really happened. It does make the party go by faster and before you know it, there’s only about an hour before midnight. 

You cannot wait to go home with Agatha and forget all about work and this party and just focus on her. Ever since she changed into the dress she’s wearing tonight, you haven’t been able to focus with how delicious her breasts look in it. 

Some might call it an oral fixation, some might call it mommy issues, but there’s no denying how much you love to suck on her nipples. And to eat her out. 

Fuck. You can’t be thinking about that. Rio is saying something, something now about Tony, the Chief Operating Officer, and you’re shifting your weight thinking about the sounds Agatha makes when you get your mouth on her. 

You look around the room and you find her, standing alone, nursing her own glass of champagne. But what startles you is that she’s already watching you with a strange look on her face. You give her a small smile, your heart filling with adoration for the older woman, but she looks away. 

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You say to Rio, who nods. You walk over to Agatha and slide up next to her, your hand brushing against her lower back. “You okay?” You murmur into her ear. 

Agatha clears her throat and rolls her shoulders back and you have to make a pointed effort not to stare at her boobs that get pushed forward. “Just ready for this party to be over,” she says, voice clipped. 

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, cocking an eyebrow. “What do you have planned for when we get home?” 

She looks at you, finally looks at you, and you can see a guarded look in her eye. “We’ve had a long day, and this party won’t be done until after midnight. I’ll probably turn in.” 

“Oh, Mommy, your age is showing,” you tease mockingly in a hush, wearing a dramatic pout, another joke about how much older she is that she usually rolls her eyes at and then makes a comment about how much you like it.  

But she stiffens today. “Well, you’re more than welcome to go home with Rio if you want someone your own age.” The retort hits you like a punch in the gut and you’re left dumbfounded as she walks away, heels clacking on the floor. 

Is she…jealous? Surely Agatha can’t be, she knows how much you want her and love her. She knows how willing you are to show her. 

And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let you remind her right now. 

You check your watch. Forty-five minutes until midnight. You can feel her gaze from across the room, but when you try to make eye contact, she pretends like she isn’t looking at you, and you make the executive decision to try something that will probably backfire. 

Pulling out your phone, you pretend to take a call. You can feel her air shift; she knows that if someone’s calling you this late, it must be something urgent. You nod like you’re listening and then after a minute or two, you put your phone down. 

You meet her eyes and tilt your head toward the elevator, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. This could backfire. She could get so mad at you. 

But you have to try. 

Agatha excuses herself from the small group of people that have congregated around her table and she follows you into the elevator. 

“Who was that? What’s wrong?” She demands, and you almost feel bad for making her this panicked. 

You shake your head. “Just wait until we get to your office.” You think it should be a hint, but she doesn’t pick up on it. Instead, Agatha chews on her bottom lip and tosses her hair back over her shoulders. 

The doors ding open on the sixtieth floor and Agatha trails behind you, hot on your heels, as you take her to her office. You tell her to get on the couch while you draw the blinds to the glass windows facing the interior of the building, just in case anyone should happen to walk by. The television is on outside in the hallway and you can faintly hear the sounds of the New York Ball Drop show. A little over thirty minutes left. 

“What is going on?” Agatha asks again, clearly exasperated by you dragging this out. 

You turn around and almost moan at the sight of her sitting with her knees pulled up under her and her elbow propped up on the couch. This time, you really can’t help your gaze from darting down to her breasts and she snaps her fingers to get you to focus. “Rio’s just a friend,” you say bluntly, and Agatha scoffs. 

“What does this have to do with anything?” 

You slowly walk over and kneel down in front of her, pulling her legs out so that her feet are on the floor and you rest your chin on her knee and look up at her through your eyelashes. “There wasn’t a call,” you confess, already wincing on the inside at how she’s going to react. Her face remains stoic. “You were bothered by Rio and I talking.” It’s a statement, not a question. 

But Agatha jeers. “Is this your excellent counsel that I pay you so much for? That I’m bothered? Don’t think I don’t know about the little crush she has on you.” 

“So what if she has a crush? I don’t like her like that. You know I only have eyes for you,” you say, slowly inching the hem of her dress up her legs, waiting to be rejected. 

Her hand slides up your head and fastens into your hair, tilting you back so you can look straight at her. “Oh yeah?” She asks, daring, challenging you to go further. 

 You swallow hard. “Let me show you?” You offer timidly, praying it’s the right answer and you’re not reading this wrong. 

Agatha growls, a guttural noise deep in her throat, and she yanks you up and kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth and you moan at the feeling, settling into her lap with your legs on either side of hers. She tugs at your hair and the sting makes you keen, only making you need her more. 

You can’t even wait, you’ve been on edge for too long, and you trail your lips down her neck, scrape your teeth against her collarbone, and then she helps you take the straps of her dress off. 

The second her breasts are free, you’re on them like you’re starving and they’re your salvation. You cup both of them with your hands, feeling the sturdy weight of them, and you knead softly, running your thumbs over both nipples. The dusky rose color stands out against her pale skin and you watch with fascination as her nipples harden under your gentle touch. Part of you still can’t believe she’s letting you touch her in the office. 

Not that you’re complaining. 

You swoop down and take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the little bud, and Agatha’s back arches off the couch as her fingers dig into your hair to keep you there. You’ve never felt more content in your life than like this, and you happily suck on her as the most delicious sounding noises fall out of her mouth. 

Her free hand finds your hip just as your fingers tug at her nipple that isn’t being occupied by your mouth and you can make out what she wants. Without moving away from her, you shift and place a leg in-between hers, able to feel the heat radiating from her pussy through her underwear and dress. 

“Fuck,” you mutter brokenly when she grinds up against your knee and you can feel just how wet she is. 

Agatha huffs out a chuckle. “You love sucking on Mommy’s tits so much, don’t you?” She asks and you switch sides and hum against her skin. “Mommy loves it, too.” 

You groan and take a break from directly stimulating her, instead, opting to lightly bite at the skin around her nipples, taking extra care to mark the curvature under them. She’s especially sensitive there, and her little gasps only spur you on. 

After you’ve left sufficient proof that you were there, you pull back and admire your work and you sharply inhale. Her breasts are absolutely painted with red marks that will surely fade into bruises by tomorrow and her chest heaves, a ragged look in her eyes. Agatha is still undulating against your leg and you can visibly tell how turned on she is. 

“Am I convincing you yet?” You ask, your voice coming out a little hoarse, and Agatha barks out a laugh. 

Her wicked grin has a thrill running inside you and she shifts underneath you until you figure out what she is trying to do. It’s a bit awkward, but she manages to turn her body so that her legs are on the couch horizontally but you’re still on top of her. 

She hums thoughtfully. “Think I might need a little more. If you’re willing, that is.” 

Only too willing. You can’t help yourself from leaning down and giving her a hard kiss, pulling away and sucking one nipple and then the other roughly until she moans, and then you move down her body and bunch up her dress at her hips. You put your hands on her shins and guide her legs up so they’re bent, her heels on the couch. 

And then you settle between her open legs and mouth at her sopping cunt through her underwear. A groan tears out of you before you can stop it at tasting the wet fabric, thick with her scent which you’ve become addicted to. You suck on her underwear, pulling the moisture out of it, and Agatha jerks underneath you. 

“We don’t have all day, pet,” she says tightly and you can hear the television outside saying there’s fifteen minutes left until New Year’s Day. 

You chuckle at her impatience and finally pull down her underwear. You wish your dress had pockets so you could store it for later, but you made do for just throwing it somewhere in her office. 

And then you drag your tongue up her slit and absolutely lose yourself in the taste. There’s something so indistinguishable and indescribable about it, and you lazily explore her pussy, getting as much of her wetness as you can into your mouth. You vaguely realize that she’s wrapped a leg over your shoulder and her heel is digging in, the sting only turning you on more. 

Small gasps are pulled out of Agatha’s mouth and her hips buck, trying to get more stimulation, but to no avail as you are completely focused on just licking her slowly. You moan into her and the vibrations make her whimper, but you almost don’t even hear it. This is your favorite place on earth, between her legs, and you don’t want to ever leave. She’s so warm and wet and responsive against your tongue and you fucking love it. Love getting her wetness all over your face, love feeling her clench around your tongue, love the taste and smell and how she reacts when you lap at her clit. 

You do that now, and her thighs tighten around your head and she sighs like she’s finally getting some of the relief that she needs. 

“I love your pussy,” you say, but the words are garbled. She lets out a muffled sound and you look up through hooded eyes to see her head strewn back in pleasure, dark hair fanned out beneath her, bottom lip between her teeth, and her fingers tweaking her raw nipples. The sight makes you moan against her again and her hips jump. 

She looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the fire inside you only being stoked more when you realize that almost all the blue in her eyes is gone, entirely swallowed up by dark desire. “Please,” she begs, sounding more needy than she ever has since you’ve started sleeping with her. “Mommy needs this so bad.” 

And the only thing you love more than tasting her with your mouth is making her cum with your mouth. 

So you oblige, thrusting your tongue inside her and almost losing all composure when her walls flutter around it. She lets out a loud whine when your nose brushes against her clit and you keep doing that, curling your tongue inside her and moving your head up and down so she can get some desperately needed stimulation to her clit. 

“Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good,” she practically sobs, and you can feel her throb. She never takes long, which is almost a shame because you’d stay between her legs forever if you could. Building her up, feeling her legs tremble around you, that’s half the fun right there. 

But she needs it, and you can hear that it’s getting closer to midnight. Only a few minutes left. 

You double the intensity, dragging your tongue over her clit again and again, feeling it pulse. You slip a hand between your own legs and groan at the wetness you find, fingers strumming at your own clit through your dress and soaked panties. Nothing gets you more turned on than Agatha’s pussy in your mouth, absolutely coating your face. 

She’s pinching her nipples now and you almost lose your rhythm from wishing you were the one doing that to her, but you don’t falter. Wetness is dripping out of her cunt onto the couch below and you almost smirk at the thought of seeing the stain tomorrow.  

Agatha better let you fuck her in her office more often. You clench at the thought of being under her desk, eating her out while she’s going through contracts or in a meeting or having lunch. Anytime you can. 

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” she chants and you can hear the minute countdown start. You lick and suck and nip and her hips are moving furiously, grinding on your face and you can’t breathe but you don’t even care because she tastes so fucking good. 

“Five…four…” You shove your tongue inside her and curl it up, stroking against the spongy spot that makes her gasp. “Three..two…” You scrape your teeth against her clit and she keens. “One…Happy New Year!” 

You suck her clit into your mouth hard and that does it. She goes flying over the edge, wetness gushing out onto your face, and you blissfully lick her through her orgasm, not even realizing that she’s too sensitive until she’s tugging at your hair, pulling you away from her. 

She brings you in for a kiss, a tradition when the clock strikes midnight on January First, but also something she always does when you eat her out, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips, and you don’t even care that you haven’t cum yet. You clasp her cheeks and your tongue sweeps into her mouth until you finally have to break apart to breathe. 

“What a way to start the new year,” you joke and she laughs and fluffs her hair. She looks like a thoroughly-fucked mess, but also the hottest you’ve ever seen. You soften and press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You know I love you, right? I don’t care about how old you are, you know I fucking love that. You don’t have to worry about Rio, or anyone else, no matter if they’re my age or not. I want you and only you.” 

Agatha smiles and kisses you again, and then kisses your nose. “I want all your midnight kisses, baby. I love you too.” It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever said. 

And of course you immediately have to ruin it with a joke. “Office sex isn’t that bad, hm?” She pokes your side and you giggle. 

“Let’s get back downstairs before anyone notices that we’ve been gone for so long,” she says. 

You whine but reluctantly get off her when she pats your hips and she finds her underwear that was thrown to the ground. You both fix your make-up in the mirror and then you’re back in the elevator, descending the sixty floors. If anyone asks, you’ll say it was an emergency with an acquisition. But you doubt anyone will. The champagne is flowing and it’s a party. 

Before the doors open, Agatha takes your hand, squeezes it three times as if to say I love you and then there’s a ding and it’s back to reality. 

But she gives you a wink meant only for you when she toasts to the company and all the good things yet to come and a warm feeling fills you. 

What a way to start the new year, indeed. 

[shrimpybbq]

a timeline of rafe cameron and obx actress!reader’s character’s relationship (+ their real life one) pt 1

anon request: do you think you could do little headcannons or like a timeline of each season of their relationship or her character’s involvement in the show? i’m OBSESSED💜

season 1: the set up

introducing, the pogues. all the usual suspects are shown, but the second episode of the season introduces iris. a pogue somewhat mixed up in both sides. she was three years older than the rest of the group, but knew them well as she was jj’s neighbour, and luke always made her babysit jj as a kid, even though she had no clue what to do

iris went to kildare academy on a scholarship and she was always treated awfully for it. she took on a job at a men’s boutique in town too, needing to help pay the bills at home. she also worked as a waitress at the wreck during summer

she’s beautiful though, and as much as she hates the attention, it helps her get extra tips at work

rafe was in her year at the academy, but often got suspended (before ward paid the school off), and the pair never really talked - except for one time

rafe was having a coke-induced panic attack outside the school, crouching down and clawing at his throat as he was convinced no air could get through. he barely even comprehends when iris crouches next to him, soothingly telling him to breathe, allowing him to follow her in-out breathing pattern. he doesn’t realise it’s her until the attack begins to subside and he’s so embarrassed, but mumbles a thank you anyway. he rudely demands she not tell anyone and to his surprise she nods and says “Why would I tell anyone, Rafe? Everyone struggles sometimes and they shouldn’t have that held against them,”

that’s the only proper conversation they have

however, rafe did think she was super hot, but made himself a promise that he’d never stoop so low as to fuck a pogue, and so refuses to give her any more of his attention

after high school, everyone expects iris to go off to college on a fancy scholarship, but her mom gets sick and she stays on the island, doing her best to take care of her. she’s working almost full time at the men’s boutique, which is where she starts to see rafe more and more

the pair strike up an odd relationship - they’re amicable but never too friendly. she just views rafe as an old (overly classist and rude) classmate, but to rafe’s chagrin, he begins to develop a small crush on her

her role in the first season is almost adjacent to the rest of the pogues, with her not doing much as part of the main plot until midsummers. rose hired her to attend the party and supervise wheezie the whole night, so that’s what she’s doing until jj runs into her. as she watches him being chased, she follows the boys down the hall only to see the kooks beating on jj. rafe is surprised that he finds himself ashamed of her seeing him acting like this,

“Come on Iris, get out of here! You don’t need to watch this shit!”

“Let him go, Rafe! What the hell!”

rafe also finds himself gawking at the sight of iris all dressed up, unable to tear his eyes away from her

after that debacle, she’s joining the pogues at the lighthouse once wheezie goes to bed, sighing when she hears of their antics. they don’t ask her to help them, but she tells them to let her know if they have any clues they need solving - she misses using her brain

there’s a scene between iris and rafe once he’s been kicked out, with iris going to barry’s trailer to buy painkillers for her mom. he’s all pathetic and desperate but he doesn’t want her to see him that way, lying that he left home. she doesn’t believe him, but the pair share somewhat of a moment before she goes,

“Stay safe, Rafe… he shouldn’t treat you like that,”

“What?”

“Your dad. He’s not right about you, I can tell. Don’t let him get to you,”

she’s 100% with the pogues when they go to pawn off the gold, jj claiming that she is a good negotiator and they need her skills. barry curses to himself when he notices she’s with them as he holds the group hostage, knowing she’s too good to be stuck in this situation

barry and iris have struck up some sort of weird friendship over the years. they've definitely smoked weed together more than once

when barry rants to rafe about the hold up, he doesn’t notice the way rafe tenses up at the idea of her (and his sister) being hurt

she’s not there on the tarmac when rafe shoots peterkin, but he does come across her at the boutique when he’s hunting john b down. iris hadn’t been told anything by the pogues yet though, so she talks with him as normal, stating that the younger boy couldn’t have murdered the sheriff. she's known him for years

rafe tells her to stay safe and watch out, hoping somehow that she won’t get caught up in all of the drama. he even demands her phone, putting his number in it for her to call if she needs help

“Just, y’know, reach out if something doesn’t feel right, ‘k?

she does use her car to drive the pogues to the warehouse upon request from jj to help get the phantom ready, only for the group to be intercepted by rafe and barry. it’s there she learns that it was in fact rafe who shot the sheriff, and he doesn’t take her reaction well

she’s shocked and horrified, staring at rafe frightened, trying to stay far away from him. he doesn’t notice the concern that filters through her expression, her knowing that there’s more to this story. she knew rafe - not well, but enough to know he wasn’t eagerly and ruthlessly murdering people

she’s still frozen and staying far away until he’s beating her friends once more. only then does she try and pull him off of them, but she doesn’t stop pope from hitting him

rafe is losing his grip as he realises iris has left with the pogues, and probably hates him now. he finally had found someone he thought understood him, and now she had been poisoned against him

iris ends up at the tent with the younger pogues, watching hopelessly as sarah and john b drive into the storm. it's her and jj who console each other as kiara and pope cry with their families. jj has always felt like her little brother, and so iris and jj cry against each other

season one: behind the scenes

season 1 has drew and obx actress!reader living in the same building, next door to each other, for the duration of filming. it’s covid times and so the cast spend a lot of time together, resulting in strong bonds

from the start, it’s clear that she and drew just mesh well together. obx actress!reader and madelyn cline are immediately best friends, and the three of them hang out together everyday. those ig lives are literally just the three of them chit-chatting and talking about everything and nothing, but it’s where fans first start to think drew and obx actress!reader would be cute together

drew constantly features in her instagram stories, and once they can all go out again, all the fan pics posted have the two sat next to each or walking side by side (literally always to be point where it can’t be a coincidence anymore)

the fans don’t appreciate that drew hasn’t reached his peak hotness yet (which is criminal bc he was so hot in season 1), and so a lot of fans ship obx actress!reader with rudy for a while

drew doesn’t want to acknowledge he’s somewhat jealous, but it’s simmering under the surface

the pair don’t share any actual romantic scenes in season 1, but it doesn’t stop them from sharing a tipsy kiss one night at a bar for jd’s birthday. they both really liked it, but pretend that it didn’t happen so as not to ruin their friendship

there’s an absolutely iconic pic of drew and obx actress!reader dressed up for midsummers, posed together like a couple going to prom, and fans still share it at the time of season 4

ya know that short concept film that rudy, drew and elaine did? miss girl obx actress!reader had to do her best not to drool over drew as he filmed that. she helped out with some of the scenes and was barely holding it together at the sight of his biceps

obx actress!reader is 100% the driving force behind the greasy bangs. drew mentions he needs a haircut and so she does it in her apartment bathroom for him, demanding he let her style it too. she had a vision and once she saw it come to life, she sent a pic to the directors and suggested it as rafe’s new look for the second season

drew took obx actress!reader back to his home for the holidays too, not wanting her to be stuck in charleston alone. she spends the time with him and his sisters, hanging out and by the time the pair leave back to resume filming, she has the whole family on instagram and they're all planning to catch up again. his parents love her and invite her to come back with him next time too

the pair go to the gym together too, helping and spotting for each other. obx actress!reader deeply enjoys watching drew get more buff

they do a few interviews together with the rest of the cast after season 1 airs and even there, the cameras pick up on the flirty vibes. soon, their chemistry has fans spiralling and everyone is so eager to see them in season 2

ps. this is the style of photo they post for the bts midsummers photo

[amirasainz]

Could you please do leclerc brothers x reader, the whole family plus the girlfriends go on holidays, the brothers so excited to spend with their precious little sister but so are the girlfriends cause they adore her and the brothers and girlfriends fight over reader cause the brothers feel like the girls are taking there sister away from them?

Of course, my love. I hope you like it😘😘

Enjoy reading and send me some requests!!!

-xoxo

Leclerc summer

The Mediterranean sun shone brightly over the azure waters, casting a golden glow on the white sandy beaches of Mallorca. The Leclerc family had rented a luxurious villa overlooking the sea, a perfect getaway for everyone to unwind and spend quality time together. Charles, Lorenzo, and Arthur were particularly excited for this trip, eager to spend time with their precious little sister, Y/N. Despite their hectic schedules, they cherished every moment they could steal away for family time.

“Can you believe how beautiful this place is?” Y/N sighed as she leaned on the balcony railing, her eyes fixed on the horizon. She turned to her brothers, who stood beside her, all wearing matching grins.

“It’s amazing, but what’s even better is that we get to spend time with you,” Charles said, nudging her playfully.

Arthur, who was standing on her other side, nodded. “Yeah, it’s been way too long since we’ve all hung out like this.”

Lorenzo wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “And this time, we’re not letting anyone steal you away,” he said, half-joking, but with a hint of possessiveness that only an older brother could have.

As if on cue, the girlfriends—Charlotte, Alex, and Carla—appeared from inside the villa, each holding cocktails and looking as glamorous as ever. Charlotte was the first to spot Y/N and immediately rushed over.

“Y/N! Come see this, we’re planning a girls' spa day!” Charlotte exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a hug.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “That sounds amazing!”

Lorenzo raised an eyebrow. “A spa day? You can do that anytime. We have plans with Y/N.”

Charlotte pouted playfully. “Oh come on, Lorenzo. We never get to spend time with her either. Right, girls?”

Alex nodded enthusiastically, her arm draped around YN’s shoulders. “We’ve been planning this for ages. Y/N deserves some pampering.”

Arthur crossed his arms, a small frown forming on his face. “Pampering? She’s pampered enough at home. We were going to take her jet skiing today.”

“But we’ll have her back by then,” Carla said, smiling sweetly. “Right, Y/N?”

Y/N looked between her brothers and the girls, feeling caught in the middle but amused by the whole situation. “I mean, I could do both, right?”

Charles was not ready to back down so easily. “We didn’t come all the way here to lose you to a spa.”

Charlotte playfully rolled her eyes. “Charles, you’re acting like we’re taking her to another planet.”

Arthur leaned in closer to Y/N, whispering dramatically, “They’re trying to take you away from us.”

Carla laughed, overhearing his comment. “Oh please, Arthur, we’re not kidnappers.”

The playful bickering continued as they all moved back inside the villa for lunch. The table was filled with fresh seafood, pasta, and all kinds of Mediterranean delicacies. But the real entertainment was the ongoing competition between the brothers and the girlfriends, each group fighting for Y/N’s attention.

As they ate, Charlotte was showing Y/N something on her phone, laughing and chatting, while the brothers shot each other looks across the table.

“Remember when we used to do family karaoke nights?” Lorenzo said, trying to steer the conversation back to their shared memories. “We should totally do that tonight.”

“Or we could all go snorkeling,” Charles added quickly, desperate to keep Y/N involved in more active family time.

Alex smiled, not wanting to be outdone. “How about we plan a sunset boat trip? Just us girls, a little break from all the testosterone.”

Y/N chuckled, putting her fork down. “Guys, there’s no need to fight. I want to spend time with everyone.”

Lorenzo sighed dramatically, though there was a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s just... you’re our little sister. It’s hard to share.”

Charlotte leaned in and squeezed Y/N’s hand. “And we just love having you around, Y/N. It’s not about keeping you to ourselves. We just love you.”

Arthur, trying to regain control, suggested, “Okay, how about this: we all do one big activity together? Something fun and adventurous that everyone would enjoy.”

Y/N’s face lit up. “Yes! Let’s do something everyone can join in on. What do you guys think?”

There was a moment of silence as they all considered it, then Lorenzo nodded. “Fine. But only because you suggested it.”

After some debating, they all agreed on a zip-lining and adventure course, something that combined fun, a little adrenaline, and the chance for everyone to bond together. They piled into two cars, with Y/N strategically placed in the middle of the three brothers in one car while the girlfriends followed in the other.

The adventure park was a vibrant blend of lush greenery and high-wire courses that zigzagged between towering trees. As they got harnessed up, the competitive spirit quickly resurfaced.

“I bet I can finish the course faster than you, Arthur,” Charlotte challenged, tightening her helmet.

Arthur scoffed. “You’re on. But don’t cry when you lose.”

Alex nudged Charles. “Want to make it interesting? Whoever finishes last buys dinner tonight.”

Charles glanced at Y/N, who was laughing at everyone’s trash talk. “As long as I’m teamed with Y/N, I’m good.”

Y/N beamed, feeling the warmth of everyone’s attention. “Let’s just have fun, guys. No sore losers!”

The course was exhilarating. They swung across ropes, zipped through the trees, and balanced on tight beams, each one cheering the other on. The brothers stayed close to Y/N, offering to help her across the more challenging sections, while the girlfriends provided a constant stream of encouragement, snapping photos and laughing the entire way.

By the end of the day, everyone was breathless and sweaty, but their spirits were high. Y/N was sandwiched between her brothers, her cheeks flushed with joy.

“That was awesome!” she exclaimed, hugging Arthur, then Charles, and finally Lorenzo. “Thank you, all of you, for making this so much fun.”

Charlotte, slightly panting, smiled as she caught up. “This was the best idea. We should make this a tradition.”

“Agreed,” Alex said, giving Y/N a high-five. “You brought us all together, and that’s all that matters.”

As the sun began to set, they gathered on the beach, sitting on a large picnic blanket with a cooler full of drinks and snacks. The tension from earlier had completely dissolved, replaced by the shared laughter and warmth that only family—and those close enough to be considered family—could bring.

Charles raised his drink. “To Y/N, the heart of this family trip.”

Everyone echoed his words, glasses clinking under the fading light.

Y/N smiled, feeling incredibly loved. “To all of you. The best brothers and sisters anyone could ask for.”

And as they watched the sun dip below the horizon, they knew that this vacation, filled with laughter, a bit of bickering, and unforgettable moments, would be one for the books.

[luveline]

i lowkey need to see stripper!reader and spencer again

for you gorgeous ♡ fem

cw adult themes

Hotch and Spencer draw attention at the strip club for the same reason but in varied fonts. They're both reminiscent of your regulars, Hotch the picture of a businessman with a wife to forget and steam to blow, and Spencer the silent sweetheart, pretty but too shy to talk to normal girls. 

He doesn't need a normal girl when he has you. 

You're glad for your cover up clothes as you lean against the dressing room door. One of the bouncers peers at you from the corner of his eye. 

"Trouble?" he asks. 

"Not sure. Probably not." You wave until Agent Hotchner notices you. To your delight, he raises his hand politely. 

You step around the bouncer and bypass the stage to the lighter area of the club where they stand in wait. "Hello. I could've met you outside." 

"Would you?" Agent Hotchner asks. 

You don't need him to explain. It's not the most professional thing, loitering in a club like this. You follow them out of the club and onto the street, cold even in your sweatpants as the wind rails. Spencer lets you squeeze his fingers in greeting, but that's all. 

"It's nice to see you again, Agent Hotchner," you say honestly, giving him a smile. 

He doesn't return the pleasantry, but Spencer swears he's softer than he looks so you choose to run with it as Agent Hotchner says, "We need information on one of your patrons." 

"Tennis Lawley," Spencer adds. 

"Tennis," you repeat. "I thought my pseudonym was bad."

Spencer gives you a quick look. I'd laugh if I weren't at work, it says. "We think he's involved in a string of killings in Washington DC. What do you know about him?" 

It's not an exaggeration to say you've played therapist for Tennis and a ton of guys just like him. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, whatever anyone wants to call it (though Spencer usually just calls it your work) has pros and cons. You've felt it to be heavier on the con side, but this is a big plus, being able to assist someone you care about with something important. It makes you feel useful for once, like you're more than the froth of the city. "Ask me anything," you say, hiding your cheek from the cold with a deft hand. 

Spencer and Agent Hotchner ask you all sorts of questions, personal to their suspect and less so, and for the most part you're able to answer them. You can tell from the look on Hotchner's face that he's both surprised and extremely satisfied by your knowing, and he emphasises his thankfulness with a touch to your upper arm before he says goodbye. "Your help is invaluable, Y/N, thank you." 

Spencer, your sweetheart, stays for a more thorough farewell. 

"Have you eaten yet today?" he asks, the hand you'd squeezed earlier leaping for yours. "You look tired." 

"It's getting close to midnight, Spence. I'm alright. You and Agent Hotchner should head home and rest yourselves…" You bring your hand to his cheek but think better of yourself, pushing your arm over his shoulder instead for a hug. His own arms contract around you immediately. "I miss you lately, where have you been?" 

"Everywhere. I miss you too," he says. Despite the months of knowing one another, and the many states he's seen you in, you know without looking that Spencer is blushing profusely. 

You kiss his cheek as your heels return to safe ground. "Come and see me again soon, okay? And bring your rich friends. The older one, Rossi, is he really a millionaire? A divorced one?" 

"Yes, he is," Spencer says with a laugh, his voice climbing higher, "but I don't think he's looking for another wife right now, sorry." 

"Maybe Agent Hotchner–" 

"Stop calling him that." 

You look Spencer straight in the eye, nearly caught off guard by how sweet and soft they meld at your touch where your hands linger in his. 

You often think that you and Spencer aren't meant to be. Your life, whether willing or unwilling, by choice or design, is entirely focused around your body, and Spencer's world revolves around his mind. You know that what you do for work isn't anything to be ashamed of, but you have the same doubts as anyone else. You know what people think of you. You wouldn't blame Spencer for thinking the same things. And you wouldn't expect him to want to be with you in any aspect that wasn't physical. 

But when he holds your hands in his like this, as though they're made of something delicate, something he wants to map every detail or by fingertip alone, you wish things were different. 

You clear your throat. "I really do miss you when you're away," you confess. 

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be." Your hands miss his the millisecond you pull them away. "I guess I shouldn't keep you. Your boss will be wondering where you are." 

"Are you okay?" 

You can't even pretend it's a strange question; you're acting strange. "I'm fine, Dr. Reid. My nice new boss knows I know the feds, and all the girls are jealous of me when you guys come to visit. They think I'm on your payroll." 

Spencer quirks a puzzled frown, brows pulled together tightly. "You're harder to read than most people. Have I ever told you that?" 

"I guess it's 'cos I spend so much time pretending I'm a different person," you say, smiling to prompt him into smiling back. 

"Maybe." He pulls his bag from where it rests against his hip and opens it, rummaging through the contents with a confused murmur until he pulls out the shape he'd been looking for. "Here. Don't go to bed hungry, okay?" 

Spencer puts a protein bar in your hand. 

He steals a quick hug and leaves not long after that, crossing the dark parking lot to the mass of the dark SUV he arrives in. With one hand, you clutch the protein bar until it takes a new shape, and with the other you blow two sweet kisses, a cheesy, gaudy gesture that never fails to make your favourite special Agent blush.