#here i am with all this anger you put inside me and its enough to genuinely want to wipe our planet dead

[busines-as-unusual]

˖ ࣪ ⭑⟡Chapter 8 - The Goal I’m Dreaming Of ⟡⭑ ࣪ ˖

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The ringing in your ears was piercing, threatening to shred your mind. Seconds felt like hours. A chill raked your flesh. You willed your legs to move. Dread rooted your feet to the floor. Were you breathing? Your heartbeat was too strong, too fast. And Alastor…

He saw.

He heard.

He knew.

No no no no no no n

“Why are you here?” Your voice was distant, stripped of its usual bite.

Alastor slinked down the stairs, his footfalls deafening. You were a fly trapped in a web, watching the spider draw closer, ready to devour you with no remorse.

“I hadn’t the faintest idea you had such a violent streak,” he said. “So much rage in one woman. I'm almost mad that you've been hiding it from me.”

“Stop talking. Just— stop!”

He came to a halt at the bottom of the steps, less than ten feet away. Far too close.

“… you need to go.” You cringed at the sound of your voice, hoarse from crying. Shit! Your mascara streaked down your face from tears. Your hair a mess, your body filthy with drying blood and gore; you looked like a rabid animal.

It’s your fucking nightmare.

Alastor cocked his head, neck bent unnaturally. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me! Get out!”

You grabbed the quarterstaff and hurled it at Alastor. He dissipated into shadows before it could hit him and reappeared right in front of you. You cried out and stumbled back, catching yourself before you could fall into the cadaver’s lap.

Turning from Alastor, you rubbed your arms; a futile attempt to self-soothe. “You shouldn’t be here. You can’t be here. Get out of my fucking house!”

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not like this. Not at all. Not ever. Not with Alastor. You’d rather he bisect you alive and remove your beating heart. It'd be less painful.

Alastor swept around to your field of vision and pulled your arms apart. “You’re hurting yourself.” He was right. Angry raised lines formed over your skin, blood threatening to break the surface.

“Let go of me!” You wrenched away from his grasp, nearly toppling again. You ran fingers through your messy hair, stray strands pulling free. “Why are you in my face every goddamn second?!”

He replied with a widening smile. His stupid fucking goddamn smile! Didn’t his face ever cramp? He looked downright giddy, like a child at a carnival. He was a wolf ready to devour a rabbit, playing with it before it died.

Rage bubbled from your chest to your throat in a snarl. “I’m not here to entertain you! This wasn’t a ‘performance’. I’m not putting on a show. None of this—” you waved wildly at the corpse, “was for you! You think just because I—”

You shut your mouth fast enough to make your teeth clack. Alastor’s eyes widened in… excitement? Like he anticipated something he’d been dying for. You felt like his performing monkey.

Your whole body flushed with heat; anger and humiliation writhing inside you. “I’m really glad this is a biiiiig joke to you!”

Smile narrowing, his brow wrinkled with displeasure. “You’re putting words in my mouth. I never implied I found this humorous. I don’t.”

Your jaw worked as you chewed on your rebuttal. For some reason, you believed him. Despite how he enjoyed watching you fall apart, he didn’t find joy in learning why you did so. Despite him being a sociopathic sadist who loved witnessing the dysfunction of others, he had some standards.

(A low standard to be sure, but you were in Hell, after all. The bar was so low it wasn’t even considered a tripping hazard.)

Tears burned in your eyes. You blinked them away. Deep breath. You swallowed hard. “…I am not some helpless, pitiful fucking victim, okay?” You spat the word out in disgust like one might a slur.

“My dear—”

“I’m not broken, or-or damaged, or sad, so don’t—”

“Temerity.”

Alastor’s voice dropped an octave as his tone turned serious. Your hammering heart stopped on a dime, and you were shocked you didn't keel over into a second death right there.

He towered over you, but not in his usual intimidating way. Instead, it felt almost… sheltering? “The last thing I see now is a pitiful victim.” He turned your chin so you looked him dead in his crimson eyes. “Congratulations, my dear, on a job well done.”

You moved to take your chin from his grasp, but he grabbed the side of your face and, with a gentleness you never dreamed he’d possessed, guided you to recapture you in his gaze.

“Let go…” you muttered but made no attempt to move. Instead, you chased the warmth of his palm with your cheek. “Alastor, you—! Goddamn you…”

Tears flowed freely from your eyes, spilling into the space where his skin met yours. You heaved a heavy sigh that rattled your ribcage. Eyes shut, you silently cried. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Alastor as he ‘held’ you like this. Whatever you found in his eyes, be it rapture or ruth, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. Still, you drank in the small amount of comfort he afforded you. This would be the closest you’d get to a hug from him.

Alastor brushed a tear away with a swipe of his thumb, smearing blood and makeup across your cheek. “Now then! No more tears. You still have unfinished business to attend to.”

Oh right. Him.

You lingered in the moment for a second. Two. Finally, you opened your eyes to look at the body and then, with effort, back to Alastor. “Help me bury the bastard?”

He fixed you with a sharp toothed grin and bowed his head to you. “Why, it would be my pleasure.”

To no one’s surprise, disposing of a corpse was easier with help. Alastor offered to use his powers to speed up your work, but you insisted on doing it the old-fashioned way. It was part of the healing process, and he was inclined to indulge you.

Soft jazz from his cane filled in the silence between you two as you dug the hole; the musky scent of hellish earth filling your nose. The distant sounds of a gunslinging turf fight turned to white noise. Occasionally, Alastor would chime in with a comment or joke, and you’d laugh or respond before lapsing back into the silence.

By the time you shoveled the final scoop of dirt over him, you were covered by a thin layer of sweat. As predicted, Alastor looked pristine as always. Again, unfair.

You tossed the shovel aside, and Alastor’s disappeared in a poof of green magic. Already, grass and yellow flowers from the other four plots spread and grew along the edges. Soon the whole yard would be uniform, leaving no physical reminders of the bodies underneath. Like they never existed.

Alastor dusted himself off and readjusted his bowtie. “Should we perhaps say a few words?”

The glint in his eyes told you he meant it in jest. You laughed dryly.

“What an honor it was to be a part of this. I can’t think of a better man for this to happen to.”

Alastor laughed. He reached out toward you before you could flinch. His clawed fingers threaded through your hair and he pulled away a pink lump of something; a small bit of brain. He popped it in his mouth like a piece of chocolate.

You swear, this man and his sexy cannibalism…

You looked away and stretched. “I need a drink! Feel free to do what you please, you always do anyway.”

Alastor followed you inside. Thankfully, he couldn’t see your smile.

You led him to your claret-colored parlor, a room you were quite proud of for its sundry uses. Whether you hosted supper club parties or smaller get togethers, it was a wonderful room for conversing, mingling, and even performing. The mini bar and piano near the corner were an excellent addition. Conversely, it was also the perfect room to read in or listen to music while lounging on the plush chaise.

You gestured for Alastor to make himself comfortable. He did so, sitting down in one of your cozy parlor chairs and resting his microphone against the side.

“Usually after a night like this,” you said, making your way to the bar, “I go swimming in alcohol with Mimzy, maybe go on the hunt for a good shag, buuuuut!” You twisted the cork off a bottle of gin with a pop! “Considering a certain unwanted guest, I’ll make a slight change to my plans. What’s your poison?”

You knew the answer before he said, “Rye if you have it. Two fingers.”

You hummed in assent, chuckling under your breath immaturely at his use of words. You fixed his drink along with yours— a gin rickey— and handed it to him before sitting opposite him.

The gin rickey went down easy and you relaxed as you enjoyed the tart drink. Refreshing. Eventually, when the silence was broken, you were the one to do it. “Do I want to know why exactly you're spying on me, Alastor?”

“Well, my dear, you left in such a rush today, anyone would be curious.” He coolly sipped his rye.

“So it’s not just Vox I have to worry about, huh?”

You shrugged, ignoring his bitter look he gave you over his glass. He could be pissy all he wanted, no one asked him to be here.

Even if you’re glad he was.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed the show.” You took a final gulp of healing alcohol. “That was my swan song of vengeance.”

“How disappointing.”

“For you.”

Drink now empty, you stood to grab another. You stopped by your record player, dropping the needle somewhere in the middle of a jazzy instrumental.

You placed the empty glass at the bar when Alastor's hand came down on the counter beside you. You froze. He wasn’t directly behind you, he wasn’t even touching you, but did you ever feel him. His mere presence weighed heavy behind you, pushing you closer to the bar. You were sure Alastor could see you biting your lip in the reflection of the waxed wooden counter.

“Now now, dear.” He slid his empty glass onto the counter with his other hand, momentarily caging you in. “Before you get too inebriated, I do want to inquire about these other revenge tours of yours, as it were. Now, will you tell me the truth or do I have to take advantage of our deal?”

Your brain worked at half speed. First things first, you needed to create space between the two of you.

You propped your elbows on the counter and rested your chin on laced fingers. Alastor subtly shifted back to accommodate your new position. Good.

“I’m never one to be taken advantage of, well unless I let a gentleman do the taking.”

With a disgruntled noise, he backed away. You grinned and twirled behind the bar, taking pleasure in his tight smile and grimaced brow.

You took a big swig of gin from the bottle. It was the strong stuff— Hell knows you needed it— and shuddered at the taste . “Screw it, I’ll tell you the truth. You know the worst of it already.” You busied yourself with washing Alastor’s glass, preferring to be partially distracted.

“Honestly, there’s not much to tell,” you said, eyes fixed on your moving hands. “Tonight was a repeat of the other four bastards I took care of.

“With the first two… I got lucky. They died together in some car accident and I found out through the grapevine.” The grapevine, in this instance, were the informants who worked for you scattered around the city. “Seducing them was… disgustingly easy. They didn’t recognize me, of course.”

Another big gulp of gin. You weren't going to have any left at this rate. Good.

“By the time I was ready for the third, I.M.P was up and running. Getting him down here was easy, but killing him was another matter. Long story short: He escaped. I chased him down. I got him with the angelic steel garrote I use as underwire in my brassieres."

All at once Alastor managed to look both impressed and uncomfortable. The disjointed reaction had you howling with laughter.

“Don’t look so disgusted! A lady needs support… and easy access to multiple melee weapons.”

“And the fourth one?” Alastor rushed out, eager to move on from the discussion of your undergarments. “As I recall, those little imps implied he went to heaven?”

“That was the idea at first. He went and became a man of the cloth. Can you believe that?”

“I do, unfortunately.”

You shook your head and muttered, “Load of bollocks, is what that is.” You grimaced, your old accent slipping through as it did when you drank too much. “Fortunately, in my case, the feathered schmucks upstairs didn’t buy it either.”

You took a final sip from the bottle as the record came to a soft end. Your head buzzed pleasantly; you floated an inch of the ground, lighter than air. Alastor continued to watch you and you did the same. Cheek in palm, elbow on the counter, you drank him in as greedily as you did the gin. “Sastified?”

Alastor chuckled, low under his breath. “For now.”

An exaggerated huff, you made a show of rolling your eyes. You pointed a finger at him. “You’re such a nosey Nelly, you know that? Who gave you the right?”

“I’m a radio host, dear. Staying in the know is a part of my profession.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

You baltered over to the piano and sat at the wide bench. Fingers pattered along the keys. A horrible idea popped into your head and you didn’t fight against it. “Tell me if you recognize this.”

Your fingers drifted along the keys, playing a song for Alastor you'd only have the courage to do when zozzled out of your gourd. The piece was golden candy for the ears, the soundtrack to a pair walking through Central Park on a beautiful day.

You came to the end and faced Alastor, who'd crept to stand behind you while your back was turned.

“I didn’t know you were one to tickle the ivories,” he said, a note of intrigue in his voice.

Pride swelled in your chest. You grinned like a dummy. “Well, I don’t have it here as a paper weight.”

He sat beside you, elbow grazing yours, and walked his slender fingers across the keys. “George Gershwin, ‘I've Got a Crush on You.’ I'm quite familiar.”

“Hopefully not from the musical. I saw it on opening day and found it dreadfully whelming. But that Gershwin? Oh!” You placed a hand on your heart. “I bet you he’s in heaven.”

“You think so?”

“If he’s down here I would’ve nabbed him by now, along with Cole Porter and— Oh!” You clapped. “Here’s a song I know you don’t know!”

Unlike the gentleness of the first song, your fingers flew across the keys with vigor. A sly smirk spread across your face when Alastor leaned back slightly in surprise. ‘Mess Around’ by Ray Charles was decades after both of your times, but you made it your mission to stay up to date with music, even if you preferred the classics of your time.

To your shock, Alastor seemed to be the same way. Without warning, the song suddenly became a duet as he took half the song to play himself. You faltered, but only for half a second. His cocky grin fueled you, spurring you on to play better.

The two of you played together, the moment of synchronicity filling you with elation. It drew to the end when Alastor stole the song, making a show of sliding down the keys with a final touch of a note.

Wild giggles bubbled from the bottom of your lungs. You wiped away a tear. “Alastor! You’ve been holding out on me. If you did that every time you invited yourself over, I wouldn’t mind as much.”

“Doll, I was under the impression you quite liked my company.”

“Oh, I love your company, but you need to learn how to knock. Otherwise, I might take Vox up on that offer for discounted security.”

Immediately, the mood soured. Alastor turned slowly to stare you down, the static effect in his voice stronger when he asked, “And why, pray tell, did he offer you that?”

A dismissive wave of your hand. “Oh, you know. That’s how they all go down. People like Vox use gifts as a tactic to make you more agreeable down the line. I took the phone because he kept insisting.”

Alastor gave you a questioning look. You threw your hands up.

“He wore me down! The man’s persistent. At least you come by it honestly. Well, sometimes. Only an absolute fool would trust you absolutely.”

“Are you implying you don’t trust me?”

A complicated answer you had no hope of answering late at night and drunk. Instead, you riffed on the keys and chuckled under your breath.

He pivoted the conversation back. “What else went on with you and Vox?”

“I had to agree to be his dumb date to some dumb fashion show. Actually, it’s not that dumb. It’s actually pretty lavish, I’ve seen it on TV before and I’ve heard that—”

“Do you not see how foolish this is?” he asked rhetorically, as if he were addressing a child. “Vox is not someone you want to be indebted to.”

“Oh, and you are?”

The lights flickered above you. Alastor brow tweaked in annoyance. “You quite readily accepted my deal for someone who doesn’t trust me.”

“Who’s putting words in whose mouth, now?”

The words were out before you realized. Alastor gave no outward indication that you’d admitted to trusting him. You were no absolute fool, but you were a fool nonetheless. You knew Alastor wouldn’t use information on you to hurt you physically or humiliate you in a public way. Not that he wasn’t cruel, but doing so wouldn’t serve him practically. But he had the power to destroy you <i>emotionally</i>. You knew, he knew, and you handed that power to him on a silver platter. Like a fool.

You might as well have served him your heart for the feasting.

“A-anyway, don't you worry about me. I’m a big girl. I can handle Vox.”

A laugh. “Quite easily, I’m sure.”

Alastor stayed with you longer than you’d expected he would. You talked and laughed and drank, often goading the other to guess the name of the tune you’d play on the piano.

This was leagues ahead of how you normally spent your time after a night like this. You always enjoyed time with Alastor, but you never had such casual fun with him.

At one point he convinced you to sing the lyrics if you could recognize the song. You did, singing along to the melody before you quit, laughing off the embarrassment.

“The poor dear,” Alastor said. “If only she could sing as well as she danced.”

“Oh, stuff it!” But you laughed.

The alcohol was a problem. With enough liquid courage in you, you leaned into the Radio Demon, head against his shoulder. Everything in you told you to pull away, but you were too content. He felt too good.

Alastor noticeably tensed but made no move to remove you or push you away. Slowly, he relaxed, silently accepting your touch. Another victory.

“Alastor?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re an ass.”

He hummed in mild annoyance, returning his attention to the piano. Soft melody, light and comforting. “Enjoy that one, my dear, because I won’t let you get away with that again.”

To say that Alastor was in awe of you would be an understatement.

Of all the sides he’d gotten to see of you— your charm, your wit, your hilarious indignation— this might be his favorite.

More than your anger, it was your zeal. You carried fervor with you in everything you did. It was rather endearing.

However, Alastor was more than pleased to confirm he was right about your rage; your impassioned display of righteous violence was positively decadent. He practically salivated as he watched you work, the entire scene unfolded before him like the petals of a rose; bright red and beautiful. Currents of excitement shot up his spine like electricity, a feeling that was both familiar and unfamiliar to him.

Then to watch you unravel again once he announced his presence? He could hardly contain his excitement. You were vulnerable. Vulnerable, unhinged, and at his mercy. Emotionally helpless. Alastor finally had you right where he wanted you. You could no longer save face. He saw you, raw and unfiltered, your mask shattered beyond repair.

Alastor took no pleasure seeing you relive your trauma— he was a great many things, but he wasn’t that kind of monster! However, seeing you panic like caught prey when you saw him, post revenge? That he cherished.

How you snapped and screamed at him? How you cried? How his mere presence left you in hysterics? Positively entertaining.

How you were adamant that he shouldn’t see you in a lesser light? That he recalled with distaste, but not for you. It was almost laughable, the idea that faceless, degenerate scum could ever sully his vision of you.

And were you ever a vision.

Splattered in blood, flecked with organs and bones, you glowed in the light of heaven. You were radiant, a spirit of retribution avenging yourself sevenfold.

Alcohol made you ever more transparent in your affections. The song you played for him was practically a nonverbal confession. Still you held your tongue, refusing to outright admit to anything. You had slipped up once, and oh! Was he eager to see the look on your face when you did and…

If you confessed your attraction to Alastor, he’d assuredly turned you down. Of course he would. Not out of cruelty, but simply a lack of interest in such affairs. Unfortunately in his experience, rejecting one’s advances was the death of a relationship.

Alastor hoped you had better control of your attraction to him than… others he dealt with. He wasn’t quite ready to end things with you. If he were truthful with himself, he’d say he’d never be inclined to end things with you. You’d grown on him too thoroughly to cut you off and remain unharmed. Good company was rather hard for him to find in Hell. To cast it away would be foolish.

Besides, he had an unfinished deal with you, and he had zero intentions of letting it go to waste.

A/N: If you can name all the references, we’re best friends for life <3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

♥︎Taglist♥︎

@forbidding-souda

@mo-0-o

@joumi13

@the--rebel--fae

@babesway22

#alastor x oc #alastor x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor x you #hazbin x oc #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #reader #reader fic #reader insert #alastor fanfiction #alastor x y/n #alastor

[craycraybluejay]

people think i'm "rude" for being too blunt/too honest but if i took some kind of uncontrollable truth-telling serum i would be actually suicide-inducingly horrible to be around. i'm honest but trust that i take care to be much more polite, fair, and controlled at most times than I want to. you could not take 5 minutes of me blurting out everything that goes on in my brain in gruesome detail, especially pertaining to You specifically. kindness and courtesy are neither a weakness nor proof of some inherent purity. they are a bore of a chore. and while it is an incredibly irritating chore it is required in order to exist (less) hassled by society.

idk. it's truly annoying to spend much effort and energy on all of everything alone. and after accepting no help will come your way, no ackmowledgement or reward for your work comes either. and not only. instead comes punishment. punishment for the grave sin of not being good enough at pretending like i love small talk and not being good enough at kissing ass and not being good enough at neither keeping my head down and doing nothing nor making waves. not being good enough no matter which way you turn, what weight you pull, how much pain you opt to ignore in favour of pushing onward. there is no prize, no safe space, there is only the anger in the meaningless and base fight to survive. hatred, death, despair, the deep wells of agony. and within it all a part of you screams itself hoarse and then quiet to break the dam. at such high capacity, it doesnt matter of its toxic sludge or just water. "just water" kills everything in its path. tsunamis, typhoons, tropical storms, rainstorms, deadly hail... a little bit builds up and in the right place it can be cried out, or redirected, or simply evaporate in the warm, kind, invigorating rays of the sun. but what then if there is no place for that kind of thing. you are the river above a city and you grow and you grow and come the next storm you may just flatten it all to nothing with everyone inside. the dam allows no space to move or grow smaller. you grow so big you don't know if it's even a river anymore. what you are is some strange unnatural body with a riptide so intense it rivals the wildest ocean tides.

i remember the time i almost got swallowed by a storm riptide clearly. it took just a touch of the water and i am being pulled by a force stronger than anything i have felt before or again, something wild and so much bigger. a storm that no longer wants or has any purpose or even one clear cause... without reason, it doesn't *want* to destroy ships and tug people to their crushed deaths. no. it just-- will. it will do that. it has no will but it will kill you. it will destroy everything. what a beautiful terror. but why in me. tugging tugging tugging. sometimes i wish my weak little kid body got seized by the riptide and that i could not break free at all. that would be an epic death.

#rambles #someone promised me a visit to a rage room!!!! they must deliver!!!!!! #i must admit i do look down on the one that rages like a traumatized little bitch-- dog #at every little thing #the one who-- in the real world-- is too angry and stupid even to shut its mouth when it kills itself #here i am with all this anger you put inside me and its enough to genuinely want to wipe our planet dead #and here i am calmly listening to you air your pathetic grievances while i think of smashing your skull in with this hammer #and you. you... like a little baby given power. #and here i fucking am taking it and trying so hard to maintain. as if it wouldnt be such a relief to just let go #as if i havent envied you for your senseless retarded pursuit of being so unapologetically terrible to people #as if i wouldnt do anything to trade our minds and places and be the stupid eternal toddler #people think the things i occasionally say or do are anger. it is not #how many switches will you flip and buttons will you push until you choose the wrongest one yet #how much longer must i withstand this pressure with my hands under me and my teeth pressed firmly together #how many more times do i have to stop in the middle of acting on instinct. instinct to survive and fight #instinct that will destroy indiscriminately. #if its like this for long enough... do you think water can become fire? youve heard of hell freezing over but have you heard of earth #becoming hell? #again i cant sleep. the energy is suffocating. i need to be held tightly and to tussle till my body gives out #no i need to feel bones crack under me.

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates, fluff, smut, denial of feelings

word count: 4.6k

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, dry humping

cherry here!... seeing as we're basically at the end, i will go ahead and say that this series has been based off of Roman Holiday! c'mon now guyssss - enjoy the spiciness ;)

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 4

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

If there was a reasonable explanation of a frog finding a home deep inside your throat, then you would somehow understand because at this moment, it sure felt like it. Charles doesn’t do much apart from blinking at an extremely slow pace. You knew that day that you should have turned the other way, but like always, your curious mannerism won. Here were the consequences and now you had to deal with them. Your lips part, ready to aim meaningless excuses but instead release a shaky breath, finding it hard to make eye contact with his soft orbs.

“How did you find out?”

A stupid question, you knew that, but there wasn’t much to say. It was motifying enough now that you knew, he knew. “You remember how I always beg you to wash your hand every time you finish eating those little chocolates you like?” His lips curl. “You must have forgotten to do so the night before.”

Heat rushes all throughout your body as you come to a halt. His accent emerges with no trace of anger, but rather embarrassment of his own. Shame. Noticing you’ve stopped, he turns back to face you, only a few steps marking a distance between you two. “I don’t know what else to say other than sorry.” A sudden urgency zaps through your veins as you walk closer to him, broken cobblestones rubbing against your shoes. “That was something private and I crossed the line, Charles. Y-you don’t understand how sorry I am.”

A lazy shrug is all you receive from him as he sheepishly smiles though there’s a downcast to the act. “You don’t need to apologize. I should.” His words make you blink with confusion. No you don’t. Green eyes flicker onto the pavement before connecting back to your dreadful ones. “No, I do. I haven’t been honest.”

He visibly gulps, strong Adam’s Apple dancing its way up and down. “I’m sure you know by now. Considering you read it.” Sharp nose twitches, fingers drumming against his thigh. “But I want to hear it from you.”

Further heat rises as you furrow your brows. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth. From what you read in between those pages, who am I to you?”

Flashes of his messy handwriting scribble its way into your fuzzy brain. Entries where he would talk about the hydraulics, whatever that meant, to depressive episodes he tries perfecting to keep out of sight. It’s sweet, raw, funny, and you ruined it for him.

“You’re just Charles. A man who enjoys spending his time playing piano, even if he can’t curve his fingers in time to hit the right notes. The one who proceeds to chuck an apple at…” You nibble on your lips, mind digging into the deepest delves as you try to remember. “Joris’ head?”

Pink blush feathers onto his cheeks as he bites his tongue. “You read that?”

A soft giggle erupts. “It was pretty entertaining.” He chuckles, but there is evidence that he was pleased by your answer. You find yourself wanting to continue. “A brunette who likes to tease a city girl when it comes to the amount of sweets she eats.” A lot, he snickers as you bite the air. “Someone who cares enough to take me on walks when I need it to calm down. Even if I don’t know it myself.” A pause. “You’re not some snotty F1 driver who brags out to the rest of the world how rich and famous he is. You’re clumsy, hilarious at an unhealthy amount that makes me think I can form a six pack without ever stepping foot in the gym, and you’re the kindest man I’ve ever met.”

Charles’ heart does an unfamiliar dip as he takes in your breathless state, as if someone’s just saved you from drowning. His feelings lunge towards you as he feels your genuine honestly. You weren’t just telling him what you thought he needed to hear, no, you were spilling it all out as if it were the easiest thing you’ve done in your entire life.

He feels stupid for keeping this from you, thinking you would betray him in some sick and twisted way. That you would think differently - treat him differently - if you knew how many zero’s took place in his net worth. How could he have ever doubted you?

Suddenly your eyes shine a little brighter, as if that were possible. Your lips blossomed into the prettiest shade of pink as you sheepishly smiled back at him. Your aroma quickly becomes his favorite scent in the world and he wishes for nothing more than for you to look at him the exact same way he looked at you. 

“I’m really glad we met.”

Your smile widens. “Lo stesso qui.”

-

The opportunity had presented itself, landed right in the palm of your hand. The universe gave you a chance…and you blew it. Your initial thought was that you, too, would come clean, but as soon as he started moving his lips and opening up to a level you never imagined you would ever reach, you pushed it further into the back of your mind. And now days have passed and it was just weird and awful that you never mentioned it in the first place. 

Times like these, you wish you had your cheerful friend to tell you what to do. Dialing her number, you patiently wait for her to pick up. Hello? The taste of home makes your heart warm as you beam. “Amelia, it's me.” A loud pitched scream flies into your ear as you pull your phone away. “I’m aware I’m missable, but there’s not need for you to-”

“I’m engaged!”

Your jaw drops, clumsy fingers navigating to press on FaceTime. The blond answers straight away, stunning diamond already being shown off as you gasp. “You’re fucking shitting me? Amelia Thompson! You’re about to be locked down for life.”

Your friend happily shrugs before hopping up and down. “This is cra- insane. This is insane. Isn’t it insane?” It’s actually very sane if you ask me. You two are meant for one another. Two peas in a pod. Her smile widens as she scrunches her nose in a playful manner. “I mean I just thought this wouldn’t happen for another year or so, but then he took me to that little park we love to go on Sunday’s and then a bird attacked him and th-”

“Back up, a bird attacked Roman?”

“Oh yeah,” she firmly states, red lips pursed as if to refrain from releasing a loud laugh. “It was a whole thing…”

Sitting there and listening to Amelia rant all the while Roman smiles as if he’s never seen a better encounter in his entire life, it suddenly hits you. Pangs your heavy chest. You were happy for the couple, over the moon, but you couldn’t help but mourn the end of an era. It only seems as if a few years ago you two were tugging heavy suitcases into your empty apartment. It would only be so long before she eventually moves out, leaving you alone. And it's not just that, but now you realize how lonely you’ve been these past few years since all you’ve ever done is dedicate your heart and soul into proving to be something you desperately wanted to be. 

“Helloooo?”

Snapping out of your self pity, you blink rapidly. “Sorry.” You release a content sigh, swooning as you nuzzle your head into the crook of your elbow as you press your face against the fancy marble. “I’m so happy for you both, really.” But? “But I’m jealous Roman gets to keep my roommate. I was here first.”

Amelia giggles. “You’ll forever be my favorite roomie. Plus, Roman kicks in his sleep so it's only a matter of time before I hit him with the divorce.”

It’s only after you two hang up that you realize you still hold everything inside your chest. Sighing, you make your way out to the terrace, hoping to find some peace and tranquility. Instead you find the Monegasque blaring rock music as he does yoga. 25/50 of what you were looking for. 

“Does this actually help you relax?”

Like a cat jumping out of its skin, Charles yelps as he hears your voice. He clutches his chest. “Does that answer your question?” The corners of your lips turn upward. He squinted at you, head pointing towards the house. “Good news?”

“Very. Amelia and Roman are getting married.”

His lips stretch into a sincere smile as he stands up straight. “That’s great.” Nodding, you tug your own mat as you begin to stretch. His stomach flips at the simple act. 

“She deserves it. They both do.”

Even as the music blares at an alarming rate that should have you worried for your hearing, you don’t move an inch and neither does he. With slight hesitance, the brunette licks his lips. “And how are you feeling?” You blink, suddenly losing balance as you plant your bare feet. Me? He nods. “You have feelings too, right?”

“I mean, do I really have the right to say anything else other than I’m glad my friends are finally tying the knot?” Floppy curls fling forward as he pretends to nudge your shoulder with it. You bite back a grin before you twirl into a soft frown. “I’m a bit sad.” A small click coming from him is enough for you to continue. “I guess I’m just not used to being alone. Amelia has been with me for as long as I can remember.”

“And she’ll always be there, you know? Only now, she’ll have a different last name and shiny ring.”

You roll your eyes. “What I mean is that it's starting to hit me. How far I’ve fallen behind in the dating category. All those times I’ve been asked out, I pushed them all away because I either had too much work or wanted to spend time with my friends. Now they’re getting married and I’m just kind of…here. I wish I knew what I was turning down.”

The Monegasque lets out a light whistle, fingers snapping as he stares off into the distance. “I would like to pretend that I don’t know what you mean, but I do. Racing is everything to me - it’s what makes me happy - but that won’t always be there. It's a scary thought to have, I know, but that's the way the world works. We need to grow up even after we’ve grown up. It’s a thing that continues for a lifetime and ends with death.”

Your eyes widen with alarm as you gasp at his gloomy perspective. What if you were still wasting time? For sure you still were, but what were you doing with your life? You’re just a broke girl who forms relationships with people you love to spend time with only to use their words for your benefit. A dark chuckle roars from your roommate as he quirks his head. Don’t get too freaked out. “Don’t scare me then.”

Charles shrugs nonchalantly. “You’ll meet someone soon. Someone who will love you as much as you love your piles of junk food.” You aim a sour scowl. He snickers, but continues. “And you’ll realize that all the worrying was for nothing.” The soft sound of waves crashing fills the silence. “But please invite me to the wedding.”

There’s a soft glow to you when you let out a bittersweet smile. “You promise you would go?”

“I thought I made that clear when I said I would go wherever you are.”

Your breath hitches, a gust of wind nearly knocking you down just as efficiently to his meaningful words. Forcing yourself to look away, you press your lips into a fine line, head bobbing in understandment. He shifts. “Teach me a few poses?” you ask, signaling to the mat. 

Let me taste your silhouette. You can talk between my legs.

“Oh um,” he stutters, red painting his entire face, briskly reaching to turn the music down. You suppress a giggle as you stare back blankly, lips occasionally wobbling, threatening to let out a teasing smile. “I-I-I don’t usually hear music like this. I m-mean - I do - but…it helps me relax.”

Giving up, your lips stretch, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You get more interesting day by day, Charles Leclerc.”

-

It’s now Monday and you still haven’t met your word count. It should be easy, you have lots of useful information, but every single time your fingers glaze over the mocking letters, you only think about how terrible of a friend this all makes you. And it’s as if Eleanor knows your lack of work, lengthy emails entering your inbox with daily reminders about your due date. It doesn’t help either that the green eyed boy keeps reminding you about the last two weeks you two have together. 

“I’ve just gotten so used to you,” he pronounces as he cuts up fresh peaches. “It’s going to feel wrong not seeing you often.”

Your fingers come to a halt. “Let’s just not think about it. How about a round of Truth or Dare?” You wiggle your brows. “Game?”

“Game.”

“Truth or Dare?” Dare, he eagerly spits out, anticipation evident. “Okay. What does the golden pin actually stand for?”

He scrunches a teasing brow. “You really thought this one through - used your brain. I’m impressed.” You hiss, pen barely missing his head. He cackles nonetheless at your childish behavior. “It’s sort of the same thing as I told you that day. He did say to go retrieve it when I got a Ferrari.”

Now it’s your turn to bunch your neat brows. “But you already own a Ferrari.” A slow smirk paints your lips. “Oh! You want to brag!”

“No,” he scolds. “Would you let me finish?” Relaxing against the pillows, you nod. “When I got a Ferrari championship. Only then could go get this mysterious horse. I think he thought I could do it.”

Your heart twists as you note his wretched smile. “Do you think you can?”

He sighs. “I’m actually not sure. Y’know when I first joined the team, I really thought I could. I mean, everyone around me was telling me how great I was, how my long contract must have meant I was extremely worthy. Now all I get are pity stares. High expectations that have me second guessing everything.” He turns to you. “But then the church was about to be demolished, so I had to go get it regardless.”

Licking your dry lips, you nibble before releasing. “I know you can do it. He might not be here to let you know anymore, but I am. And I know you can.” A beat. “Is that why you gave it to me?”

The brunette winces before tilting his head. “I don’t deserve it.”

In a single movement, you hurriedly crawl over to him as you slap him. Suddenly he’s on high alert as he grabs his cheek in pain. What the fuck? You smile sheepishly. “Don’t you dare say shit like that, Charles Leclerc. You have to believe in yourself the same way you did when you were a kid…I’m keeping the pin.”

His gaze darkens. “Oh, so you don’t believe I’m going to ever get a Championship either?”

“Don’t be stupid. I know you will, but I’ll take care of it for you. That way you have something to work for. I’ll be your temple,” you offer as he quirks a brow. 

“My temple?”

You hum. “They’re knocking down the other, so I’ll take over. And I’m just letting you know right now that I’m not giving it up that easily. You have to work really fucking hard.”

Charles’ pulse speeds at your determination and belief, so much so, that a certain kind of pride that had left him long ago returned. He could do this, he could win. He would win. Even if it killed him. An unknown flicker strikes his green eyes as your stomach churns.

“You’re not like the others I’ve met…” He grabs your hand, making you flinch in surprise. “I’m going to do it. For you.”

It’s as if he stole your breath away as you struggle to regain your composure. “...And for him.” His grin never once melts away as he squints a shy eye, lashes fluttering. That was implied, too. You’re the first to pull away as you purse your lips. “Your turn. I pick Dare.” 

The Monegasque coughs. “I dare you to tell me a secret.”

Your smile falters. “Don’t you think you have to work for it? I can’t just give it up like that.” Shaking your head and crossing your arms, you pout. 

“Oh, come on! It could be any. Your pick.”

“How generous,” you murmur. “I dented your car.”

He gapes, eyes zigzagging as he forces a smile. “No, you said it was a little boy who kicked a soccer ball.”

You wince. “I was trying to back out of the driveway to go get us some donuts and I wasn’t looking and next thing I knew…” You’re rambling for sure. “It’s not that bad?”

Charles groans. “I told off the first little kid who passed by with a soccer ball, thank you for that.”

You shriek. “Liar! No! What did you say?”

A smirk slithers onto his face. “I’m totally kidding, I knew it was you.”

“But-”

“I heard when it happened - it’s what woke me up in the first place. I stood up to check and saw you driving away.”

“I’m sorry,” you chirp. “You shouldn’t have left the key out like that for me to grab! So if you really think about it, it’s kind of your fault.”

“Of course it is,” he pressed with amusement. “I forgive pretty easily, so I’ll let you off the hook.” Your palms sweat with uneasiness. “Your turn. I pick Truth.”

It’s as if you’ve suddenly become extremely dehydrated as you blink back blankly. “Got a crush on anyone back home?”

“Skip.”

This gets you curious as you arch your brow. The Monegasque goes to extreme lengths to avoid eye contact. “You have to answer, that’s not how the game works. I promise I won’t tease.”

Long fingers drum against his lap as he whips his head, shaggy hair brushing along his face. “Maybe so, but I’m using my free pass.”

You let out a heavy heave. “What are you talking about?”

“Remember I gave you a free pass when we first played Truth or Dare by the shore and I said I would only let you skip if I got one of those in return? Okay, well, I’m using it now.”

“Wha- that’s not fair! That was so long ago, it doesn’t even count.”

He chuckles. “Yes it does.”

With a sour expression, you huff and cross your arms. “Fine. I don’t want to play anymore.”

“You’re choice.”

-

The remainder of the day was spent with you locked away and Charles on a business call. Now that you knew what he was hiding, it was easier for him to get some work done. Either way, it worked out because before you knew it, you were nearly done. And he was clearly bothered.

“Looks like someone chewed your ear off.”

The Monegasque cringes at the brutal image as he sighs. “Do we have any more ice cream?”

“Nope. Finished it last night.” Analyzing his tense shoulders, you step closer to him as you tilt your head. “It won’t help you get over whatever’s on your mind, though. Want to talk about it?”

He extends his long legs underneath the table, head rolling back as he groans. You shiver, a pool forming in between your legs at the sight. Your body’s reaction feels filthy as you shake your thoughts away. “I was on the phone with my manager. They signed the contract. They actually did it.” He squeezes his eyes in disbelief. 

“What contract?”

The brunette finally opened his green orbs, annoyance circling them. “Looks like I’m getting a new partner.”

This comes as a complete shock to you as you make your way to an open chair. “When? Who?”

“Starting 2025. Lewis Hamilton.” Kicking an empty chair away, he grunts. “Oh my God, and here I was thinking I had a chance…” He laughs hysterically. “A chance.”

Seeing him so distraught made your stomach hurt as you shook your head along with him. “I don’t see how this is a bad thing…change is good, no?”

A soft chuckles flies past him as he angles his head to catch your puppy lost state. “First of all, I really enjoyed having Carlos as a teammate. We worked well together. Second of all, compare me - a twenty six year old with five wins in his entire career - to a seven time World Champion.” His shoulders droop. “Who do you think is going to get all the attention and support from the team?”

Your lips part, then snap back shut. He smiles, already shrugging it all off. “It was doomed from the start, I don’t know why I’m so surprised.” Loopy eyes hug your sympathetic ones. “I just don’t want to let you down.”

Frowning hard, you tsk your tongue. “I have a feeling it’s impossible for you to do that. You’ve got this, have a little faith.” Slipping away from your seat, you stand next to his exhausted state, where his body continues to hang like a wet dog. “Will it be easy? No, probably not. But the best things take work. It makes it worth it all at the very end. You’ll see, Charles.”

“How is it that you have so much hope in me?” he whispered meekly, face slightly pale.

Brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you raise your shoulders high. “Because I’m a firm believer that you will accomplish yours and your father’s dream. And I know what you’re feeling, I’ve been on that same boat before, I’m quite familiar.” I sort of still am, you conscious barks back. 

For a moment, he lays still, green eyes taking you in, low breaths. Everything about this situation made you feel like a kettle, ready to cry out. There was something so intimate and raw with the way he was looking at you. As if you hung the stars up for him. You’ve never been one to stick around, so it came as no surprise to tear your gaze away, wobbly feet stepping back. “Just don’t-”

His hands are slightly slippery from his palms sweating. His chest is freakishly warm from his blood pumping. And his cock was most definitely hard. 

Shifting on top of his lap, you giggle nervously as you try to avoid the lust in his eyes. And the heat in the pit of your stomach. “No, we said…” You furrow your brows. “This is wei-”

“No, you said that. I only played along.” 

Inhaling sharply, you shake your head, hair practically whipping his face as he smiles gingerly. “You said the kiss was weird! I said the kiss was weird - we agreed.”

It’s his turn to narrow his eyes at you, large hands gripping your waist, keeping you from running away. “The situation was weird, but I’ve never felt a pair of lips feel so right against mine.” Long fingers trace your bare thigh. “I know you feel it too.”

“Your boner, yes, how could I not?” you hiss, face burning crimson red. “You’re going to ruin it-”

“No I won’t.”

“You’re going to regret it-”

His gaze darkens. “The only thing I’ve regretted so far is not telling you how I feel about you and not having kissed you the way I wanted to.” Green eyes soften up, almost pleading you. “Fuck. I need to - you don’t get it, I need to kiss you, amore. I swear to God if you say no, I might lose my mind.”

Your head begins to spin as you balance your hands on his broad shoulder. Behind your better judgment, you know you shouldn’t. This would only make things worse because you know the moment you lock lips with him and he finds out what you’ve done, how long you’ve lied, he’ll be so disgusted by you completely. 

But like always, you push that all aside.

You basically pounce on him as you smash your lips to his. It was hot, it was heavy, you could feel his teeth clash with yours, his tongue sliding inside your warm mouth. He grunts deeply, pushing your hips down on him as you gasp. Arousal drips past your silky legs, already forming a wet patch against his denim jeans. Charles groans loudly at the feeling. Whimpering, you tangle a clumsy hand through his messy hair.

“You’re telling me this is ‘weird’ to you?” he teases against your pouty lips, pants entering your mouth as you whine like a kid at the dentist.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You won’t be saying that in a few minutes.”

Swiftly, he stands up, setting you down on his chair. You’re confused with his actions as you desperately try reaching out for him. He lets out a dark chuckle. Then, he’s kneeling down in front of you, bringing the chair closer to him. Oh God. The sound of the wooden chair squeaking is enough for you to snap out of it and blink rapidly, as if this were all a dream. He grins wickedly.

A beautiful fucking dream. 

Shivering at the feeling of his calloused digits, you bring your brows together. He plays with the hem of your dress for a few seconds before sliding it up, cock growing harder at the sight of your red panties. “These dresses have been driving me crazy from the moment I met you.” He presses a sloppy kiss against your clothed center. “So pretty…”

“Charles…”

He cuts you off the moment he slides the thin material to the side, tip of his fingers rubbing your wet lips. Moaning, you instinctively drape your legs over his massive shoulders. With your entire strength, you try bringing his face closer to where you need him. He lets out a loud laugh.

“You really think you can push me down onto you?” He signals like a know-it-all. “Neck strength, baby, neck strength.”

“I don’t care if you’re a racing driver and that’s your entire exercise agenda, do something.”

That’s the only green flag he needs to dive in, sliding his tongue like an animal. Arching your back against the chair, one hand finds a home in his brown lock and the other grips around the armrest. Dizzy with his fast movements, you squeal when he sucks hard against your clit. 

“You’re crazy,” you manage to pant before clenching around his digits that have now entered the equation. And he just curls them so deliciously inside on you that you begin to worry you might finish against his handsome face. 

Pulling away, he looks up at you through dark lashes, a sly expression evident. “And you’re irresistible, perfect…” He growls when your hole tightens around his fingers, how your juices pour out. He can’t help but lick you clean, sighing against your thigh. “Simply perfect.”

It’s a haze and you barely have room to breathe, much less give him a fair warning, because suddenly your white nectar takes over and hits him all at once. You’re moaning loudly, he’s groaning as he slurps needily. It was just all too much.

And you didn’t deserve any of it.

Your chest rises up and down as you struggle to breath regularly again. It helps when he traces shapes around your legs, hot breaths of his own hugging your humid skin. His eyes take in your state as he looks up at you with complete defeat.

“How am I supposed to stay away from you, ange?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc series #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #cl16 x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 #charles leclerc blurb

[jd07201990]

I shouldn't have opened my mouth. All I had to do was just walk away, and I'd have been fine. Now, It takes 3 showers a day, and a can of Axe a week, just to control the apocalyptic funk of athlete that pours from my pits... and feet... ok, ok I just stink, ok?! And its all because I tried to stop Pops, a local Gym Owner, from bullying one of his regulars.

The massive man was absolutely raging, as he berated a Jock for skipping sessions, despite the young man explaining desperately that he couldn't miss any more assignments or he'd lose his scholarship. It didn't seem to quell Pops's anger, as I watched the man drag the boy to a bench, and force him to lift rep after rep, until the Jock was panting, begging for a break, promising not to miss any more sessions. 

I'd been walking on the treadmill the whole time, and decided to get involved. My first mistake. Walking up to Pops, I cleared my throat, and told him to lay off, that clearly the Jock was exhausted. Pops grabbed my collar and hoisted me up off the ground, before I could react, his face nearly against mine as he went off, first about my nosing about, then about how ridiculously thin I am. I stammered, my legs dangling, until Pops put me down, and smirked.

"You know, a little meat on those bones wouldn't hurt. Maybe with a few pounds, those big, sweaty dawgs you've got wouldn't look so clownish!"

My jaw dropped, a squirmed under his gaze, as a shiver went down my spine, and a dull, warm itch began in my feet. I don't know where he'd gotten the idea that my feet were clownish, I'm 5'7" with size 9.5s! But suddenly, my sneakers felt cramped, warm, with a dull humid dampness making it feel as if I'd stuffed my foot into a wet towel.

Then, I groaned, as a sharp pain shot down my ankles, and my sneakers burst open, revealing wide, reeking Jock-feet, at least size 13. A dense funk rose, and I gagged, the intense reek of Athlete poured from my torn shoes. Pops laughed heartily, then sneered. 

"And those pits! You'd think with hairy, sweaty pits like those, you'd be top of the roster! Not even Big Billy has pits as bad as yours! There's a bull inside you, just waiting to come out!"

Again, that cold shiver ran down my back, and my armpits felt as if fire ants were biting them. Hundreds of itchy bumps formed, then, hair sprouted, filling in and dampening until the stink of the locker room oozed out from them. I whimpered as I caught the scent. Looking up at Pops, I begged.

"Please! Don't do this! You gotta undo this! I'm not a Jock!"

Pops laughed, taking both my shoulders in his massive rough hands, and pushed me down onto a bench, taking my arms and forcing them up onto the bar. My pits were fully on display as he growled.

"Lift. Don't stop until I come back, or those pits and feet will be the least of your worries."

I believed him, and tried to pull the bar down, barely moving the weights. Pops facepalmed, moved to a backpack next to a mountainous young brute lifting what had to be the weight of a small car. He fished out a protein shake, pressed the nozzle to my lips, and forced me to guzzle a few mouthfuls, pulling it away as I heard my stomach gurgle. 

I hiccuped, then burped, as my body seemed to warm, sweat forming, soaking down my shirt. Then, muscle began to swell under my skin, not huge, round bulk, but enough to look as if I'd been hitting the gym for several months, not days. When it settled, I must've gained 10 lbs, all of it hard muscle. When I pulled the bar down this time, it wasn't easy, but I wasn't lifted off the seat this time. Again and again I tested my new size, and Pops grinned. giving my thicker shoulder a punch. 

"I'll make an athlete out of you yet. Like it or not, you're gonna be one of Pops's boys! No one mouth's off to pop, unless they've earned it here at my gym! got it!"

I wanted to be defiant, to insult him, or run, but the look in his eye told me if I so much as thought about leaving, I'd be waddling out of here, sideways through the door, looking like the Behemoth that Pops had taken the shake from! I gulped, looked down, and forced myself to lift. Maybe if Pops is happy, he'll at least tone down the absolute fog of stink that screams, "Big Dumb Jock" from a mile away!

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

taedros tresdros

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

part one: taedros taedros ☆ part two: taedros twodros wc: 2.2k reader: afab reader (pretty sure no specific gender mentioned but putting this disclaimer just in case!) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some fluff :) summary: uh-oh... you fell for your best friend taerae. but was it all in vain after he's ghosted you the past two weeks? *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ITS DONEEE! you will notice i've went with "taedros tresdros" for the title. decided to keep all three parts with taedros as the first word lol. this is the finale for this little series and i really hope you like this ending i've made lol. i am so happy you've all enjoyed taedros taedros -- stay tuned for more works soon (hopefully) xx

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, fingering and oral (reader receiving), cumming in pants, eavesdropping/voyeurism by reader but it's only out of shock/anger, swearing, lots of innuendo in this one lmao... i think that's it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

“so, the ring finger goes here?” you hear a feminine voice ask; ear pressed gently to taerae’s door to hear better. just a few moments ago, you’d been taking deep, steadying breaths as you walked through the entrance to your best friend’s dorm building on your way to finally confront him.

something that was so familiar now made your heart race with anxiety. 

but when you’d rounded the corner to taerae’s room, you were surprised to find the door shut almost all the way. usually taerae left his door wide open, even when he was playing the guitar or getting changed or sleeping. in fact, his dorm-mates told you one night when you were leaving that the only time taerae made an effort to close it was when you were over... you couldn’t hear any noise coming from his room, which made you all the more curious as to what was going on in there. 

walking up to his door, you’d seen it was propped open just a bit by one of taerae’s shoes. you couldn’t see through the gap in the door, but you’d heard quiet murmurings from inside and gently placed your ear to the door to listen closer. the sound of a girl’s voice had completely shocked you. especially considering what you’d come here to talk about with taerae.

“yeah, it might take a bit to find the sweet spot,” taerae answers with a chuckle; his answer causing your jaw to drop. fingers? sweet spots? what the fuck is going on in there!?

“mmm, thank you again for teaching me, taerae,” the voice responds. upon closer listening, you realize you know this voice. it belongs to your world history classmate, jinah-- the girl who sits behind you and doodles the entire period. she’s very nice-- pretty and athletic, too, but...

you didn’t really think taerae was her type.

you hadn’t spoken to taerae much in the last couple weeks. ever since you’d actually slept together... things had changed. it felt like your best friend was avoiding you. when you’d texted to ask about movie night the past two fridays, taerae had said he was busy with homework both times. normally taerae would meet you for lunch in the student union every other day in between his music theory class, but he hadn’t come by since then. he’d barely said two words to you at choir practice last night.

was this why? he’d decided he liked jinah instead? he couldn’t face you after... using you? 

taerae would never do that. not to you. probably not to anyone.

then again, you’d never talked about whether what was going on between you was exclusive or not. and what it meant to you; what he meant to you. had you completely misinterpreted this whole situation?

“and the middle finger...” jinah trails off and the mental picture you have unfortunately painted in your head of the scene taking place is enough to make you gag.

“that one’s gonna reach as far up as possible,” taerae explains. if you had known your best friend was offering masturbation classes out of his dorm room, you probably would’ve been more careful about where you were sitting on his bed.

“i don’t think i can reach that far,” jinah huffs with a frustrated sigh. “it kind of hurts.”

“relax,” taerae soothes. “it’ll feel better if you relax.”

your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sound of the audible gasp that escapes you, but your elbow hitting the door blows your cover. you stand up quickly as taerae’s door swings open-- revealing you in the doorway to taerae and jinah.

... and revealing jinah sitting on taerae’s bed and holding a guitar (quite clumsily, if you may be so brazen) in her hands; taerae sitting next to her and seemingly offering some sort of instruction.

“you--...” you stutter, surprised and also incredibly relieved to find that the lessons taerae was giving were much more wholesome than you’d been forced to imagine for the past few minutes. “oh thank fuck holy shit.”

as the uncontrollable string of grateful curse words leaves your mouth, jinah clears her throat awkwardly and stands up; removing the guitar strap from around her neck and handing the instrument to its owner.

“sorry for interrupting,” you mumble, bottom lip finding its way between your teeth as taerae glares at you. 

“no, it’s okay! i have to finish an essay for tomorrow anyway,” jinah replies, picking up her bag and walking towards the door. you step to the side for her to get by, awkwardly smiling as she calls behind her, “thank you, taerae! see you next week!”

jinah retreats down the hallway, leaving just you and taerae alone in a tense silence.

“what are you doing here?” taerae asks, rather unceremoniously. “it’s a thursday night. you have tutoring on thursday nights. that's why we have movie night on fridays.”

you nod, still leaning against the doorframe. “my last appointment cancelled so i--... i wanted to come talk to you.”

“oh,” taerae replies with a nod. “okay.”

you frown. “okay?”

“yeah,” he says, looking down at his guitar in his hands; starting to strum it lightly. “okay.”

your eyebrows raise in shock as your best friend seemingly shrugs you off. you walk over to him and snatch the guitar from his hands by its neck.

“HEY!” he protests as you bring the instrument over to its stand and place it there annoyedly (but carefully; you’re not an asshole). “i was playing that.”

“what the fuck is the matter with you!?” you snap, turning back around to face him. “you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks!”

taerae visibly gulps; eyes falling to the floor. 

“and this is how you’re gonna act?” you scold, folding your arms across your chest. “after we...”

for some reason you’re unable to say it. taerae is silent-- seemingly holding his breath as he waits for you to continue. coward.

“i came here to talk to you about everything and--... and then i heard you through the door giving jinah a fucking guitar lesson,” you explain while rolling your eyes. “better than the lesson i thought you were giving her, but...”

taerae looks up at you now; brow furrowed as his head tilts to the side confusedly. “w--... what kind of a lesson did you think i was giving her?”

you blink back at him; unsure of whether to tell the truth or not. but taerae catches on before you can commit to a lie.

his jaw drops in shock. “you thought--... did you think--”

you look down at your feet: embarrassed, anxious, and just plain sad after the events of the last couple weeks. this mixture of emotions forms a lump in your throat that you are now hopelessly trying to suppress. “i’m really sorry for interrupting. and for listening a bit. i just don't know what happened. i thought we were--... i thought you felt the same way that i did, but... you just must be really upset with me and i don’t know what i did but i’m so sorry and i really miss you so i wanted to talk to you and i just was... i dunno, i thought--”

taerae cuts off your rambling by standing up and wrapping his arms around you tightly. against your neck, he soothes, “ssh, baby. it’s okay-- it’s all okay. i promise.”

“i like you,” you confess into taerae’s sweatshirt. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know this would happen. but i really like you, tae.”

"fuck-- i like you, too. of course i like you, too,” he says, pulling back to look at you. “and this is all my fault.”

you sniffle as you ask, “what did you do this time?”

“something really, really stupid,” he replies with a sad smile.

mirroring his expression, you quip, “what else is new?” 

“yeah, yeah,” he accepts with a laugh. cupping your cheek in his hand, he runs his thumb across the skin sweetly. “i thought i was the one who fucked up... by falling for you.”

“... oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“oh is right,” he says, leaning in and kissing your lips gently. “i honestly wasn’t sure what to do about it. i didn’t want to hurt you and i thought maybe just... avoiding you for a bit would make it easier for me to stop having feelings for you. but it didn’t. it just hurt you and me more-- and it was really immature. i’m so sorry.”

you wrap your arms around his neck, having forgiven your idiot of a best friend before he even apologized. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you more,” taerae says, peppering your cheeks with kisses. you giggle; taerae grinning before attaching his lips to yours again.

“but, um,” you say quickly, pulling back to meet his gaze. “i’d love to put in a request for no more guitar lessons with the door closed, if the suggestion box is still open.”

“it is,” taerae says with a laugh. “suggestion accepted, approved and implemented.”

“and, uh, maybe they don’t have to take place on your bed,” you say, biting your bottom lip and hiding your face in his chest.

“i will have you know my conduct is strictly professional at all times,” taerae replies and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but you’re completely right. not to mention, it was probably rude of me to let her sit on my bed... without telling her what it’s covered in.”

“TAERAE-YA!” you shout, hitting his chest as he pulls you toward his bed-- pushing you down gently onto the mattress and climbing between your legs with ease. “you do wash your sheets, don’t you?”

he just laughs.

“tae, that’s gross,” you reply, shaking your head as he cups your center over your jeans. your protesting starts to waiver as he applies more pressure to where you need him most. “you--... you really should--”

“enough, enough, baby-- of course i wash them,” he replies, hooking his fingers around the belt loops of your jeans and shimmying them along with your underwear down your legs before discarding them on the floor. then he smirks at you, adding, “but sometimes i do wonder what the point is when you’re just gonna get them dirty again.”

“fuck,” you whine as taerae admires you. he’s licking his lips like he hasn’t eaten in days-- and he hasn’t. you wonder how he’s survived this long without you.

“so,” he says, starting to circle your clit with two fingers. his rhythm isn’t steady though; it’s intoxicatingly teasing. “what did you think i was teaching in these ‘lessons’?”

you feel your face heat up again at the mention of your faux pas. “don’t make fun of me.”

“never, baby,” he says; a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “i’m just curious what you think i’m enough of an expert in to be qualified to teach.”

“i--... oh my god,” you say, shaking your head with embarrassment. “i thought you were teaching her how to finger herself!"

“hmm, i guess i can understand the confusion,” taerae runs his fingers through your folds, gathering some of your slick and painting it across your stomach. “since playing guitar requires so much skill with your fingers.”

“shut up,” you reply, pouting at him.

“no, really,” he insists with a nod. as he pushes his middle finger into you gently, you gasp at the sensation. “like, to play a chord; each of your fingers needs to hold down the correct string and in the correct spot. like, to play a d chord for example.”

taerae strokes up into your walls with his middle finger, causing you to whimper. “see this middle finger needs to be on that ‘high e’ string. and then the ring finger...”

plunging another finger into you, your hand reaches to grab onto taerae to steady yourself. he smiles at you, pressing both fingers firmly against your walls now. “will sit nicely on that ‘b’ string right here.”

as he works his fingers against your walls lazily, you whine-- desperate for more friction and soon. your prayers are answered when taerae inserts a third finger, stretching you carefully until he’s able to push it all the way in.

“and finally, the index finger is going to go...” he laughs lightly before pushing his index finger into the spongy, firm spot in your walls that only he has ever been able to find. as you cry out in pleasure, taerae presses kisses to your thighs. “you might’ve guessed, but that one’s on the ‘g’ string. and listen to that beautiful sound it's making.”

“did you--... did you plan that g-spot joke?” you ask breathlessly in between pleading moans as taerae picks up the pace of his fingers. “you’re the--*hic!*... worst person i know.”

the little hiccup from pleasure that separates your insult sends taerae reeling. “fucking perfect, huh? every inch of you.”

“baby, please,” you beg, self-control low after two weeks without taerae. “wanna cum. please, wanna cum for you.”

taerae moans and, from the way he’s looking at you, you know he’s just as desperate as you are. he falls to his stomach now between your legs as he says, “was gonna try to... keep my mouth off of you. show you i really like you. you-- not just your pussy but...”

“fuck it,” you both say at the same time.

lips attaching to your clit, taerae wastes no time in pushing you closer to the edge as he laps, sucks, eats at you-- one leg of yours hooked over his back as he continues to work you with his left hand. 

“tae,” you whimper, hands in his hair as you grind your hips into his touch. “g’nna cum... please, gonna cum.”

taerae whines and, with the state you’re in, you don’t even notice how feverishly he’s grinding into the bed. he switches to sucking, lips tugging perfectly on your clit and it’s all over for you.

“fuck, i--... i--... m’cumming,” you moan, taerae’s name falling from your lips a few dozen times as you come down from your high. “oh my god.”

taerae is noticeably quiet; removing his fingers from inside of you, he laps at the juices that drip out of you with his eyes closed. you know he really likes you... but it’s very possible he likes your pussy just as much. you’re not complaining.

“tae,” you call sweetly, sitting up on your elbows. “baby? come here-- want you to fuck me.”

he opens his eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up a bit. “um... so, about that.”

his gaze trails down to the crotch of his jeans and you follow it to find a nice, big wet spot soaking through the denim. 

“are you serious!?” you whine in frustration; sighing as taerae smiles at you sheepishly.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes with a cute little pout. “will you forgive me if i say it’s because you’re just too hot?”

you roll your eyes-- grinning at him. “i’ll consider it.”

“thank god, because i think i can probably make it up to you...” he says, sitting up and grabbing your jeans from the floor. “after some dinner.”

you laugh. “are you asking me out?”

“i totally am,” he answers with a smile.

“you’re sure you’re not too... full?” you joke, grabbing his hand in yours. “you did just eat.”

taerae shakes his head, smirking at you:

“trust me-- i’m never full when i’m with you.”

#zb1 #zb1 smut #zerobaseone #zerobaseone smut #zb1 fics #zb1 imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone imagines #zb1 taerae #zb1 kim taerae #zerobaseone kim taerae #zerobaseone taerae #zerobaseone x reader #kim taerae imagines #kim taerae fics #kim taerae x reader #kim taerae smut #kim taerae #taerae smut #taerae #taerae x reader #taerae imagines #taerae fics #kim taerae angst #zb1 angst #zerobaseone angst #boys planet #boys planet smut

[arien-rey]

cw: a little angst, suggestive touching

an: i’ve been daydreaming of an angry make out sess with miguel for DAYSSS so enjoyyy🤭

wc: 600+

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the bustling city of your home New York, you found yourself sitting on the edge of a rooftop. After a particular intense mission, you begin catching a breath and with great care begin to wrap the tender, bleeding wounds that scattered your body and torn spider suit with bandages. You hiss at the aching pain, however, you’re relieved that atleast you managed to escape without any broken bones. Just as you finish up, you tap a few buttons on your watch to radio HQ about your successful mission before the sound of footsteps catch your attention. You swiftly stand up and turn to confront the stranger behind you, but to your surprise you’re met with the towering figure of your colleague and trusted friend?(boyfriend? it was complicated) Miguel O’Hara. With a quick click of his watch, his mask swiftly disintegrates and reveals his cold, darkened expression. He must have used his watch to travel to your dimension.

“Oh, Miguel,” you exclaim, trying to mask your exhaustion and aching pains. “What are you doing here?”

He stops infront of you, his brows knitted together in concern. “what am I doing here? are you kidding me? do you have any idea what you put us through today? we thought you were dead!” he spat, his intimidating gaze locked onto yours.

Surprised by his sudden outburst, you take a step back. “Miguel.. I’m sorry—I thought I had everything under control. I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” you say, a hint of guilt simmering under your skin as you feel his gaze drift to your bandaged wounds.

“thats the thing, you shouldn’t be risking you life like that!” he snapped, his voice laced with frustration and concern. He grimaces and runs a stressed hand through his dark hair, trying to keep himself somewhat composed. “what ever happened to sticking together? What made you think it was okay to fight this anomaly without telling anyone?”

You could see the raw emotion in Miguel’s eyes, and you bite your cheek. You’ve never seen this side of Miguel before, so vulnerable and protective. It ignited a flame within you, and a strange concoction of frustration and desire slowly stirred inside you.

“Well, maybe i didn’t want to you rely on you all the time,” you retort, glaring up at him, voice dripping with defiance. “I can handle myself, Miguel. I’ve been doing this long enough, I dont need a babysitter.”

The tension in the air was palpable as your words hung between you. Slowly, you watched as Miguel’s anger gave way into something else; something more primal. He takes a heavy step forward, his head tilting to the side as he towers over you. His intense burgundy eyes lock with yours, and you don’t falter.

“you dont need a babysitter, huh?” he growls, his voice husky with an undeniable undertone. “Well, maybe you need something else then.”

and before you could say anything, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you forcefully against him. His lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss, released with pent-up emotions and unspoken words.

You gasp into his lips and widened your eyes before quickly melting in his arms. A low rumble escapes his chest as you tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug roughly as the kiss deepens, lighting a fire that courses through your bodies. You moan softly into his mouth, pressing your body impossibly closer to his, the heat between you scorching.

In the heat of the moment, Miguel gently slides the hands off your waist and allows them to roam your body, his rough touches leaving fire in its wake. You shiver as his big hands brush against your skin, his touches gentle so he doesn’t press on your wounds. A complete contrast to how his lips pressed greedily and possessively against yours.

As you finally pull apart gasping for air, you could see a mixture of emotion in Miguel’s eyes. His eyes were narrowed with desire and his cheeks flushed, but now there was something different— a profound affection and vulnerability.

“I’m sorry, I just.. don’t want to lose you too,” he confesses, voice laden with raw emotion and want.

As you stare at each other in disbelief, the argument is momentarily forgotten. Suddenly the rooftop is quiet again, except the sound of your racing hearts.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #smut #miguel o’hara smut #<3 #miguel ohara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x oc #miguel x you #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x oc #2099<3

[konigsblog]

hiiiii i LOVE your writing sm and i also LOVE angst so i was excited to see your post about an angst prompt so heres one ive been thinking of

i feel like ghost would be someone who would quickly put up walls when he felt he was getting too close to someone, so when he and reader get to the stage where they both clearly like each other but its not official, ghost would start acting cold, saying he was too busy for a date when he would just sit on his phone, looking at photos of reader, and then he would act like you were the idiot, like he never saw you the way you did, as if there was nothing between the two of yours, all because he's too scared to lose someone he loves.

kinda long sorry (ಡ᎔ಡ)

thank you so much for your kind words, i really appreciate it and it doesn't go unnoticed, thank you a lot for your support, you're so sweet <3;

he's lost too many. soldiers, friends, siblings, parents. he couldn't bare the idea of letting you into his life, visiting your grave in the future, a bouquet of your favourite flowers placed on the dirt. he saw your kindness, appreciation, your effort to make him your friend, and despite being pushed away multiple times, you never gave up.

it almost made him frustrated. just drop it, corporal. he'd curse, swallowing his words before turning his heel away from you. simon wanted you, he needed you, desperately - but the flooding thoughts that kept him awake at night was enough to turn a blind eye to your attempts. why did you want him so badly?

although you wanted eachother, it was useless and pointless. seeing you on field would disrupt his skills, becoming worried when you got hit, risking his life just to be able to save yours. he would do that anyway, romantic or professional, but he used that as an excuse, another reason to push you away.

but when you actually stopped bothering him, he felt ill. sick to his stomach now at the lost presence following him 24/7. ghost, could we meet up for coffee together? are you alright, simon? you don't seem to like me that much, am i doing something to upset you? i'm sorry, ghost, i wasn't trying to anger you..

he'd recently blown up at you. his nightmares kept him awake at night truly, but he blamed you for your constant, tiring and repetitive attempts to draw him in. “fuckin' drop it, corporal. would you stop bothering me? it's repetitive and clear that i clearly don't need, nor want you.”

to say his words didn't burn was a lie. he could see the tears forming in your eyes, glassy and glistening, nodding your head before leaving him, alone.

i'm sorry, fuck. why did i do that? i fuckin' lied, i need you, why would i say something like that.. the cold heart inside him shattered as he realised what he'd done; even if he had deal with the heartbreak of another death, he'd also have to live being alone if he never let anyone in, including you, the one he truly and genuinely desired.

”i needed you, sweetheart, i shouldn't of said the things i did, god-.. i'm so sorry.” his voice was a whisper, holding your limp, motionless body in his arms, unable to save you as blood gushed from your wound. a lifeless corpse he held, sighing as he visited another grave of a person he'd pushed away, despite his true need for her.

#orla speaks #call of duty modern warfare #modern warefare ii #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod mw2 #cod headcanons #cod modern warfare #cod imagine #cod mw22 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mwii #ghost headcanon #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #reader x ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #cod mwf2 #cod mw3 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warefare 2

[wildlife4life]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Tagged by the lovely @exhuastedpigeon, @hippolotamus @wikiangela @disasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @jeeyuns @hoodie-buck @theotherbuckley and @ladydorian05 Thank you all so much!

I am in a very generous mood today, so for this tidbit Tuesday I am sharing several teases from different wips. Enjoy!

NFL Buck: Athena hits the intercom above the code box, taking note of cameras that swivel slightly towards her way. A deep voice seeped with weariness comes through the speaker, "What can I do for you officer?"

In the back seat of her cruiser, Eddie immediately perks up and cries out, "Buck! She arrested me and I don't like it and I swear those tiny humans put her up to it! But I didn't do it! I swear!"

4+1 Buck is too nice: Eddie is actually contemplating stealing Bobby's nice knife set away from the firehouse. Stolen knives for Eddie's stolen boyfriend. Seems fair. Sort of.

When in reality Eddie more than understands. Athena is working, Bobby is covering for Captain Royce, and trying to get any sort of non-familiar (free) transportation from LAX was a disservice to May.

Kidnapped Mpreg Buck: Eddie grips his tiny newborn daughter tight to his chest. Its too quiet. Buck is silent, no longer screaming in agony. Their baby has gone quiet after her first cries. Doug will never make a sound again, lying dead by the fireplace. He can barely hear Hen muttering under her breath, pumping her fist hard over Buck's chest. Chimney hasn't said a word since announcing the loss of Buck's heart beat, frantically working to try and stop the omega from bleeding out. And Maddie...is slumped against the wall near the bed where her brother lays dying, covered in blood from Doug, herself, and Buck. Catatonic. Quiet. Too quiet.

Parental Chimney w/ Teen Buddie: Chimney does a double take when he see's Eddie standing just a step inside the bay doors. The older teen is wringing his hands together, looking nervous and very lost.

Tapping Hen on the shoulder, he motions towards the kid and Hen nods in understanding. "Yell if you need back-up." She jokes somewhat serious.

Chimney rolls his eyes, "Doubt he's here to cause harm."

Hen shrugs, "Your new to this parenting thing, and so am I, so asking for help won't hurt." She glances over to Eddie, "Just don't be too hard on him. From my understanding, kids been through enough and losing Buck must feel like rock bottom."

Return of sperm donor kid: “Carson, Connor is your dad, okay?  I just-well-um” Buck was floundering to find the right way to explain to a beginning 5th grader how sperm donation works. 

“He’s not my dad! I heard my mom say so!” Connor shouted, anger and frustration starting to take over.

Buck raised his hands up in gentle defense, “Okay. Okay.  Let’s just,” He sighs in frustration, looking upwards.  Buck didn’t really pray, but he did believe in the universe and Eddie would be his entire paycheck that he was cursing it right now. “I’m calling your parents.”

Carson opened his mouth to object, but Buck immediately cut him off, “I am calling your parents, and that includes your dad, the same man who has fed you, clothed you, LOVED you since the day you were born. I am calling them and then we are all going to sit down and talk. Understand?”

Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure): @bekkachaos @prosperdemeter2 @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @elvensorceress @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @jesuisici33 @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @devirnis @eddiebabygirldiaz @loserdiaz @spaceprincessem @thekristen999 @lizzybizzyzzz @homerforsure @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @try-set-me-on-fire @monsterrae1 @lover-of-mine @rogerzsteven @eowon @honestlydarkprincess @911onabc @911-on-abc @cowboydiazes @vampbuckley @brokenribsdiaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @arthursdent @glorious-spoon @buddierights @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @gayhoediaz @gayedmundodiaz

#tease tidbit tuesday #tag game #my wips #multiple wips #911 abc #911 show #911 fics #buddie #buddie fics #evan buckley #eddie diaz #hen wilson #chimney han #athena grant #sperm donor kid #maddie buckley #nfl #parental chimney #teen buddie #sperm donor arc #mpreg #buck whump #a/b/o verse #high eddie #buck is too nice #cockblock

[amysteryspot]

A Moment of Jealousy | S.R.

Summary: Reader offers to help Spencer when he needs a plus one to go to his friend's wedding. What she didn't expect was to feel so angry when one of your coworkers starts flirting with him.

Warnings:female reader, no use of (Y/N); jealousy; fake dating; fluff; little bit of angst; friends to lovers; coworkers to lovers; mentions fo drinking; mild smut (+18); secret relationship until it isn't.

Word Count: 4.1K

Requested by: @hb-writes

A/N: Hey there, love. I'm sorry it took me forever to fill your request, but I got carried away and made it a whole oneshot instead of just a blurb. A special thanks to @foxy-eva for beta-reading this one.

SPENCER REID MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | FOLLOW MY WRITING AT @mysteryslibrary

You tried, really hard, not to let people know how annoyed you were by the situation.

“I didn’t know you two were together,” Elizabeth says, surprised.

“Not for long, so we’re keeping it low while everything is still new,” Spencer answers, smiling at you. You smile back, looking at Elizabeth who was already staring back at you.

“I heard about how you arrested that guy last week. It must have been scary.”

“Yeah, it was but I had backup, so I knew it would be okay to push it a little bit.”

“Everybody’s impressed, I heard people in the white-collar department talking about it.

“It was a team effort.” You smile, politely.

“Teamwork is difficult in its own way, it must be harder on you two. Spencer is so clever and you are so…” she paused, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, “so strong.”

Blinking once, twice, you force yourself to give her a grim smile, but after that, the conversation turned into a blur for you. It took everything in you not to take it personally, you and Spencer were not dating after all, but the comparison just made you feel… inappropriate. Like you weren’t enough to be with someone like him.

When Elizabeth finally left, you could barely control your feelings.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you exclaimed, making Spencer turn his head to look at you.

“What happened,” he asked, confused.

“What happened? What happened, seriously,” you asked, incredulous. “What fucking happened is that Elizabeth has been flirting with you for the past hour and you did nothing to stop her,” sneering, you made sure to spell her name with a sickly sweet voice.

Spencer frowned, turning his head to search for Elizabeth, who, of course, was looking back at him, trying to look demure as she waved at him right before putting a loose strand of hair behind her ear. In his defense, he did look oblivious to agent Parker’s advances towards him, which did absolutely nothing to wane your anger. When he looked back at you, something seemed to click inside that big brain of his.

“Oh,” he exclaimed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, “you’re jealous.”

“I am…” it took you a moment to process his words, “Am I what?”

“Jealous,” he promptly answered. “Of Elizabeth,” Spencer made sure to stress her name and you wondered, for a second, where that smug smile came from.

“You’re fucking delusional, Doctor. I’m just worried about how you’re making me look like a complete idiot by flirting with Agent Parker. We’re supposed to be a fucking couple, after all.”

“Yeah, I know,” he nodded, “and that was your idea.”

“To save your ass, because you’re always alone in those kinds of events and you didn’t want to come with that woman Morgan set you up with… What was her name? Kristen?”

“Lauren,” Spencer corrected, putting his hands in his pockets, smirking.

Of course he remembered the name.

“Whatever. It does matter that your friend is getting married, you didn’t want to come alone and I’m here to help you. All I’m asking in exchange is that you don’t make me look like a fool by flirting with someone else.”

"That 's it,” he asked, taking a step closer.

“Yeah,” you nodded, skipping a breath as he stepped closer again, resting one of his hands on the small of your back, “that’s it.”

“Now, you see, I don’t believe you.”

He was so close that you could hear his breath and feel the heat of his body.

“What I do believe, is that you came here with me because you didn’t want anybody else in your place, anybody else with me, and that you’re so riled up by Elizabeth talking to me only because you’re jealous of her, even though all the poor woman did was compliment you the whole time.”

“I… what?”

“She’s interested in you, not me,” Spencer explained and suddenly you felt more like a fool than before.

Looking over his shoulder you could see the disappointed look on Elizabeth's face as she looked at the two of you, but she did smile when your eyes met and, even in the distance, you could swear she was blushing.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Spencer laughed.

“This doesn’t mean that I’m jealous.”

“Oh, it doesn't?”

“No, it does not,” you answered, blinking a couple of times, still trying to process what was happening.

“So you wouldn't mind if I wanted to leave right now, taking you to your home and deciding to go out with Lauren? She texted me a few minutes ago.”

You bit your tongue before answering a faint, “No.”

Spencer hummed, letting go of you and offering his hand for you to take.

“Let’s go then, we already did what was supposed to be done here. Don’t want to let Lauren wait.”

“You… what?” For a moment, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Here you were, doing him a favor, and he was paying you back by talking to another woman all this time? “If you’ve been talking to her all this time you should've brought her with you, not me,” you exclaimed, letting go of his hand, walking past him only to hear him laugh.

Turning around, you saw Spencer smiling smugly and all you wanted at that moment was to wipe it out of his face.

“What’s so funny, Reid?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, “you.”

“What’s so funny about me,” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“How many times I gotta say that I’m not… Wait, you just said that I’m cute?”

“That’s what you registered from what I said?” he asked, with a hint of amusement in his tone. 

“No, good Doctor, I was saying that I’m not…”

You never got to finish the sentence because Spencer pulled you to him by the hand and planted his lips on yours and, suddenly, you didn’t want to talk anymore. All you wanted was to be able to feel his lips against yours all the time.

Spencer wasn’t half as gentle as you imagined him to be. His hands gripped you tight, keeping you impossibly close to him, and his chapped lips were hungry against your own. When you both came up for air he gave you a quick peck, smiling.

“There’s no Lauren.”

Still in a daze from the kiss, it took you a minute to process his words.

“What?”

“There’s no Lauren. There never was. Morgan just said he was tired from both of us circling around each other, so when the wedding invitation came up he took it upon himself to bring us together. He said you would be jealous about me bringing someone else to the party, so he created that someone.”

“Morgan… what?” Still confused, you were unable to form a coherent sentence.

You were going to kill Derek.

“He wasn’t exactly wrong, was he?”

“You were on board with that?”

He smiled, sheepishly, looking a little bit guilty.

“I’m gonna kill you…”

Again, you were interrupted mid-sentence by Spencer’s lips on yours. Not that you were complaining.

“You’re not going to kill anyone,” he said, both of you out of breath. “Here’s what is going to happen. We’re going to say our goodbyes to the newlyweds, I’m going to take you home, and you’re going to invite me for coffee.”

When you opened your mouth to speak Spencer silenced you again, this time by resting his thumb against your lips.

“Ah,” he reprimanded. “We’re both going up and we’re gonna have a talk about what is happening between us. Okay?”

You weren’t sure what did it for you: maybe it was the hazel of his eyes shining so brightly as he looked at you or his honeyed voice as he told you what was going to happen, maybe it was the way he was holding you so close to his body that made you so comfortable it felt like home. What you were sure of was that there was no point in trying to hide it anymore.

“Okay,” you sighed, relaxing into his arms much to Spencer’s content.

He kissed your forehead, releasing you from his arms and clasping your hand in his instead. When you two turned around to say your goodbyes, there were a couple of people staring at you, including Elizabeth. You shied away from their stares, noticing a blushing Spencer guide you through the crowd. Then you felt a hand grasping your arm gently, making you stop and see an old lady, who you recognized as the bride’s grandmother, smiling at you.

“It’s so beautiful to see such a young couple like yourselves be so in love with each other. It reminds me of me and my husband, we were married for 63 years until he passed away. There will be hard times, but don’t give up on love. I wish you two the very best,” she patted your hand and left, smiling.

You looked at Spencer dumbfounded, finding him looking at you already, a smile on his face. Spencer only squeezed your hand, leading you to the newlyweds before you two left the reception, looking for a taxi.

The ride to your home was silent, your hands intertwined as both of you looked through the windows in opposite directions. After you entered your apartment things shifted from 1 to 100 in a second.

Before you could understand what was happening, Spencer had you pressed between his body and your door, his lips hungry against yours. Responding in kind, your hands found his hair, tugging at it and making him moan against your lips.

Walking both of you to the couch, you gently pushed Spencer to fall against it, quickly straddling his hips before you could lose the courage to do so. Your kisses were greedy, his hands trailing up your thighs, hiking your dress in between his fingers.

You lost no time in freeing him from his jacket, and then his tie, making quick work of unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, trailing kisses along his jaw and down his throat.

“Wait,” he mumbled, holding both your hands in his own, making you stop to look at him. “We need to talk.”

He was right. That was what you were here for in the first place, you were just too lost in each other and ended up caught up in the moment.

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a deep breath, “yeah, you’re right.”

You two stared at each other for a moment before kissing again. It was too easy to lose yourself in him, but you really needed to talk so, despite your desires, it was your turn to part from him.

“Coffee,” you murmured against his lips.

Spencer nodded, eyes traveling down your figure as you got up, observing as you set your dress straight.

“Yeah, coffee.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment too long and before you could change your mind, you turned around and left for the kitchen to start making your coffee.

Suddenly there was a presence behind you, strong hands at your waist pulling you close to his body while Spencer trailed kisses down your neck.

“What happened with talking?”

He turned you around in a swift motion, helping you up to sit on the kitchen counter and making quick work of standing between your legs.

“We can talk later.”

And then his lips were on yours and everything else faded to black. There was nothing but him, the feeling of his hands roaming your body, the taste of him on your tongue. It had always been easy for you to get lost in Spencer: in his words, the way he talked, his mannerisms. You shouldn’t have been surprised at how natural it felt to get lost in his touch, letting desire take over as you two melted against one another.

You were too hungry for each other, kissing and grabbing at whatever bit of skin was revealed. One of your hands rested against his chest, right above his heart, feeling his heartbeat, delighted when you noticed how each one of them matched yours. It was as if everything the both of you had gone through was supposed to end here, at this moment, when you were so in tune with one another that even your heartbeats were in sync.

“I want you,” he panted against your lips.

“Then have me,” you answered, before he joined your bodies, making you gasp his name, eyes closing as you gave yourself to him completely.

Waking up next to Spencer should have made you feel in the clouds but it had the opposite effect. Thinking about the previous night, you became worried that all that had been just a one-time thing, maybe the alcohol talking, some unresolved sexual tension that would probably dissolve now that you two got it out of the way. How would it be at work? Would it change anything? Of course, it would, there was no way you would be able to ignore what had happened. You hated how your brain simply wouldn’t let you be happy for more than two seconds.

Spencer stirred awake, slowly stretching his long limbs beside you before resting an arm around your waist, and nuzzling your hair.

“‘Morning,” he mumbled in a raspy voice, nuzzling your hair.

“‘Morning,” you answered, basking in his warmth and affection, forgetting your worries for a second.

Considering how averse to touch Spencer is, you were pleasantly surprised at how good he was with his hands and mouth. Despite the fact that both of you were a little tipsy, Spencer made sure to explore every inch of your body, seemingly as much touch-starved as you were.

Leaning in, he captured your lips in his, kissing you lazily as both of you started to process being awake.

“We should’ve done that sooner,” he said, leaning into his elbow to be able to look at you.

“What? Have a good night of sleep?” You joked, grinning at him.

Spencer smiled back, quickly tickling you, making you squirm and beg for him to stop. When he finally relents, you look at him, both of you wearing big smiles.

“We never got to talk last night.” You laid on your back, looking for his reaction.

“Do we need to? Because I think things are pretty clear after what happened.” He grins.

Playfully, you slapped his arm and silence filled the room for a moment.

“What now?” you asked.

“I think it is safe to say that we both want to try this out or we wouldn’t be here. So we do just that, take it slow, see what happens.”

Nodding, you snuggled closer to him. Spencer pulls you to rest partially on top of him, kissing your hairline.

“Do we need a label?” you asked.

“Not if you don’t want one.”

“Do you need one?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him.

“Not as long as I have you.” He answered, leaning in to peck your lips.

“Coffee?” You grinned, making him laugh.

“Coffee.”

Never in your life would you imagine that after one night, just one night, it would be so difficult to pretend that anything has happened between you and Spencer.

Of course, you were prepared for that when you offered to go with him to the wedding, but you also didn’t imagine that you two would end up in your bed, so you were kinda expecting that things would be less awkward. The team would ask how things had gone, and you would tell them how the party sucked and that was it.

Instead, you had to be careful to not look all lovey-dovey when you arrived in the bullpen, after having to part ways before going into the building to avoid letting people know you two have come to work together.

As you expected, Penelope was waiting for you as you stepped out of the elevator, dragging you to the Batcave before you could utter a word.

“Tell me, how was it?”

She was practically bouncing on her chair, excitedly waiting for your answer.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek before answering.

“Boring,” you answered.

It was partially true. You were never a fan of weddings, even more when you don’t know anybody, so the ceremony, even though beautiful, was not enough to get your attention. After the reception, though…

“Oh, common, you can do better than that.” She complained. “Was the bride beautiful?”

“Yeah, she was. Very traditional, white dress, pretty flowers and all that jazz.”

“And boy wonder?” She asked, a hint of mischief in her smile.

“Spencer was… Spencer.” Which was more than enough for you. “He was, you know, wearing a suit, worn out converse, just… Spencer.”

“And I bet girls were all over him.”

You chuckled a bit at that, remembering Elizabeth.

“Yeah, they were.”

“Nothing more for you to tell me?” she inquired.

“We got out of the party, Spencer took me home, and we’re here now. That's it. Nothing interesting to talk about.” You said, omitting the in-between Spencer taking you home and you two get to work.”

“That sucks,” Penelope complained, making you laugh.

“Sorry for disappointing you.” You shrugged, getting up and patting her shoulder.

“There’s always next time.”

You met Spencer at his desk. Looking around before approaching him, making sure no one was around, you nodded at him.

“JJ and Emily got me the moment I entered the bullpen.” He complained, making you smile in sympathy.

“Pen was waiting for me outside by the elevator.”

He hissed, opening and closing his hands, which you deduced was his way of avoiding reaching out to you.

“This leaves us with Rossi and Hotch,” he said.

“They won’t ask.” You assure him, before thinking again. “I think.”

“Maybe not to us.”

“Well, they do have the girls as a source of gossip.” You sighed.

“Derek on the other hand…” Spencer started, trailing off as you two saw Morgan enter the room.

He looked at the both of you like he knew something the others didn’t. And he did know, considering how he and Spencer had planned the whole “Lauren” thing.

Pretending nothing happened and ignoring the smirk on your friend’s face, you head to your desk, preparing yourself for work.

Not long after, you got him alone in the kitchen under the pretense of getting a refill, standing beside him as you stirred the fresh coffee in your mug.

“You’re gonna regret this.” You said, giving him a side glance.

“Regret what, pretty girl?” Derek asked, turning around to lean into the counter, eyes fixed on you. “Getting you and pretty boy together?”

“We’re not together.” You answered quickly, taking a sip of your coffee to distract yourself.

“Come on, you may have tricked the rest with your lies but don’t forget that I know everything about Lauren.” He grinned.

“Yeah, that’s the reason why you should watch your back.” You smiled sweetly at him, the slightest treat in your tone.

“Should I be worried, pretty girl?” He smiled back, sipping his coffee.

“Oh, I don’t know. You know how people are, someone could share some compromising photos of a certain agent when he was a child, or maybe tell your baby girl about you ignored her advice and went to dinner with that girl… What was her name? Oh, Vivian, right?”

“You wouldn’t.” He said, a hint of worry when you mentioned Penelope.

“Just watch your back, Morgan.”

It only took the time for you to reach the door for his voice to ring in your ears again.

“Or I could always tell people how our pretty boy and pretty girl are now a pretty couple.”

Not daring to turn around to look at him, you gripped your mug tighter, trying to mask 

“We’re not a couple, I already…”

He interrupted you, saying, “You arrived together.”

You gulped, closing your eyes and swearing mentally.

“We did not,” you denied.

“Pretty girl, I saw you two in the parking lot,” Derek explained, standing beside you.

“Derek, you won’t…”

“My lips are sealed.” He said, making a zip signal. “But if you wanna keep this low you two have to be more careful. Penelope might have bought your story this time but you know how she is.”

“I know, I know. She’s going to kill the both of us when she discovers this.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “We just want to take things slow.”

“I’m not blaming you for not coming out in the open about this now, just take care.” He said, getting closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “And just so you know, I’m glad that you both are figuring this out, whatever it is.”

You smiled, “Thanks, Derek.”

It was a slow day, with lots of paperwork and boring stuff.

“Drinks tonight. Who's game?” Emily asks, getting up from her chair and picking up her jacket.

JJ nodded, “I’ll let Will know that I’ll be out a little late.”

“You don’t even have to ask,” Derek said.

Spencer looked your way and silently agreed that going out for drinks with a bunch of profilers so soon wasn’t a good idea.

“I think I’ll pass this time.” You said, not making a move to leave. “Yesterday I had drinks enough for a couple of days.”

“Giving trouble to Spencer, huh,” JJ said.

Spencer blushed a little. “Just a little bit.”

Everybody laughed as you rolled your eyes, trying to avoid thinking about the kind of trouble you’ve had given him.

Morgan looked at you with a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Let's go then. Hotch and Rossi will meet us there in a few, I’ll go get Penelope.” He said, leaving.

“Spencer?” JJ asked.

“Not today, thanks,” he refuses.

“She really gave you trouble yesterday, huh?” JJ joked, before saying her goodbyes to you two.

“You have no idea,” Spencer mumbled under his breath, a smirk on his face.

You throw a ball of paper at him, making him laugh. After that, the both of you prepare to leave in silence, walking together to the elevator.

“My house or yours?” Spencer asked.

“Aren’t we going a little too fast?”

“Haven’t we danced around each other long enough?” He retorted, looking at you.

“Mine.”

In the end, going slow turned out to be far from what both of you wanted. When Spencer wasn’t in your apartment, you were in his, and it was becoming more and more difficult to hide things from your colleagues.

There were countless times in the past few months when you two almost got caught by them. The last one had been in the kitchen when the two of you were getting coffee and Spencer took the risk of taking your hand and his at the same time that Emily entered. You were quick to drop your mug as a diversion, but it was close enough to make the two of you try and distance yourself a little more at work. That seemed to work until one of the times the team decided to go out after a case.

You had roomed with Emily, making it impossible for you and Spencer to see each other for over a week. The both of you were touch starved, having missed each other more than anything despite having seen each other every day. That leads you to this fateful moment.

“So that’s what you two have been sneaking around these past few months,” Emily exclaimed, making you and Spencer jump away from each other.

“If we tell you that this is not what you’re thinking, it won’t work, right?” Spencer asked with his big brown eyes, looking as guilty as someone could be.

“Absolutely not.” She said looking between the two of you with a smirk on her lips. “We’ve been betting on how much time you two would be oblivious over the fact that we all knew.”

“You knew?” You asked and Emily nodded. “All of you?”

“The wedding, right?” She asked, making you try and get your jaw off the floor.

“Fuck,” you and Spencer spoke at the same time.

“Come on, lovebirds. Let’s go downstairs and meet the others for drinks.”

You looked at Spencer, that only shrugged, taking your hand in his so you could follow Emily to the elevator. At that moment, you thought that everything was falling into place. You had Spencer and that’s what mattered.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #reader insert #amysteryspot #mystery writings #+18

[coffeefiction]

Love Binds (Wally x Reader) Pt 3

Here is Part 3, things are getting a bit interesting, it might be a bit confusing too, I forgot to mention that I like putting references on my work sooooooooo do keep a look out for that

Would they play a part in the story? We honestly don't know-

TW: Blood, Fire, character death(s), Angst

This page has been touched by the lonely, the spiral, the end, the desolation, and the eye, please be warned

To the people that wanted to have a happy part 3, I am so so sorry to disappoint you all-

Ps: I appreciate everyone's love for the story and their patience, sorry that it took a while to post part 3 but here it is and I hope you all enjoy!

(There is a song at some point but it is more there as a sort of guide for me that I did not took out, it's called "Youth" by Daughter, lovely song by the way)

{ Part 1 Part 2 [Part 3] Part4 }

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

Weeks passed and Wally had never felt so numb, once a joyous man slowly spiral down into sadness and despair. Memories of you linger around his mind, walking like it owned the place and maybe it did...Maybe you had always that effect on him, it's no wonder how you guys hit it off instantly when you two found out that the other lived in the same neighborhood even though you two barely knew each other in college. You were always a force he wasn't scared to be around with....memories of your laughter and smiles toward him were something he cherish the most.......W̴̨̤̮̭͎̋͗ͅh̷͚́͠y̷̡̟̯̰̬̿͛́̔̔̚ ̵̖̉̿ï̶̡͎̩̃̑͒̚s̸͔̥̩̒ ̵̢͚͔̟̬̪̂̓͊͂̍͝í̵̝̗͂̍̂̕ţ̴̉̄͊̚̕ͅ ̶̼̘̜́s̵͉͈̝̑̏͂̒̔̕o̵͖̻̊̍͋̆̀̍ ̸̫̻̟͕̭̒̽̋͗̍̐h̵͚̎̿̚ḁ̵̢͔̩̗̪̈̃̐̋r̸̲͍̻̃͊d̴͚̮̤̣̓ ̴̻̺̻̥̞̏̑͒̍ͅt̶̩̦̟̃̉́o̶̦̩̝̪̳̮͑̒̃̓͠ ̷̤̮̼̽̇͒̾ȓ̴̗̗̬̞ͅḛ̵̼̯͒m̷̖͈̟̻̞̎͠e̸̪̥̅̃͘m̴̫̜͈̺̻͖̉̉̿̐̚b̷̞͚̟̫̩̌̅̿̆ẻ̸͈͓̱̙̫̠̈͆̇r̶͎͔͔̣̰̈́̈́?̵̨̻̩͙̟͉̌̄̿̍̀.̷̡̛̤̦̦̀̿͊̈́̆ͅ.̶̢͙̤̟̬̎͜.̶̨̟̭̙̰͎́͐̇̀͌

As time moves, regret and anger filled him, not towards you....never towards you...he...he cares too much to even direct that to you...

It was towards himself...He was careless, he lost you and he didn't even notice it, did not notice it until it was too late. He had reached a point where he refused to interact with anyone, just staying inside his home and wallowing in this sadness and grief he feels. When all of your friends found that, they were shocked then slowly....they realized the things he had realized...At first, they thought he was pulling a joke, but there was no laughter nor were there in smiles in the first place...

Wally's friends would try their best to get him to leave his home but after the second week, all had decided to leave Wally on his own, and let him process things at his own pace oddly enough, Wally appreciated that, he needed to process things, get his thoughts right.

But Veronica would visit him to check on him, she doesn't try to coax him out of his house but she would accompany him, making sure he doesn't feel lonely. Wally would allow it, welcoming his friend inside his home and the two would either talk or just sit in silence, a comfortable silence as Wally either paints or simply just sit down to gather his thoughts.

And the cycle would repeat, a routine he and Veronica had fallen in. He appreciated it, not saying he doesn't appreciate his other friends' efforts but he wants someone that wouldn't just make him pull himself together just cause. So Veronica just simply accompanying him was enough for him.

More time passes and he longs for you, he longs for that laughter of yours, your silly jokes, your presence. Why did everything end like this? How did everything end like this?...

He's not sure anymore...

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

Shadows settle on the place that you left Our minds are troubled by the emptiness

Wally stood in the middle of the room, looking at you. You stood in front of Wally with a sad look, hugging yourself as the room is filled with mist and fog, cradling you as if you were its child. 

Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time From the perfect start to the finish line

Slowly, you turn you back on him, walking into the thick fog. He tried to grab you, follow you as the mist slowly engulf you. He called out your name, begging you to come back. With one final look at Wally, you walk into the fog, an acceptance to the situation you were in.

And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones 'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

Wally falls on his knees, sobbing and breathing heavily as the fog hugs him, cold and damp just as how he remembers. He cried out, wanting this feeling to stop. He falls on the hardwood floor as darkness clouded his vision.

Setting fire to our insides for fun Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong

Shooting up, he gasp, looking around as smoke filled the room. Coughing, he tried to stand up and look around. The room was engulfed in fire. He called out to someone...a name he can't seem to remember...

Running up the stairs, looking and shouting a name he can't hear himself say but he's saying it, and his crying as he says it.

Pictures of people that he feels like he knows hang on the walls. One where there was a man and a woman with him, both seems to look just like him.

One was where it seem to be when he was young, barely seven...that's specific...

He ignored it, he ignore the photos that hang even if they felt familiar to him.

 We are the reckless, we are the wild youth

He hears people shouting from the outside, begging him to get out, to leave the place but he continued. Looking from room to rom, he's begging.  

Slowly, his visions blur once again. Falling down to his knees, coughing as smoke filled the room even more. Slowly he falls, hitting the floor once more.

Chasing visions of our futures One day we'll reveal the truth

Gasping as he awakens from another, he looks around. Rain falls and gray angry clouds filled the horizon. He called out someone's name as he stand up. He holds his shoulder, feeling pain in it like it has been stabbed or shot...Maybe it did? He can feel the blood and can smell it but why does it feel like it isn't his?...

He continues with his venture, walking and shouting someone's name once more. Who's name is he shouting?... He shakes his head, trying to clear away that blocking mist. 

Slowly....he can hear the name he was shouting...

And slowly...he saw who he was looking for....

That one will die before he gets there

 And if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones

"(Y/N)!!" He shouted, running towards the body that lays on the ground, tears streaming down his face as he almost trips getting to you...

"no no no no no!" He pulled the cold body close to him, holding the wound that seems to spill blood everywhere....He feels tired too...

He called out your name, begged and cried for it, for you to wake up...Why aren't you waking up!?...

'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone We're setting fire to our insides for fun

He held you close, sobbing and begging as the rain continues to fall down the the both of you. The forest was silent except for the rain. He look up and beg to whatever god is out there to bring you back...to take him instead of you...

"Please....."

"Not them....they all that I have left..."

We're setting fire to our insides for fun Collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home It was a flood that wrecked this

And He was back to that house, people arguing as he hides behind the wall. He listens in.

"This is the problem, Wallace!! You are so paranoid!!"

"If I am paranoid then explain to me will you!!"

"Explain what exactly?! Explain that my husband is a paranoid lunatic?!"

"Who was that man you were with Willow..."

Silence fills the room as Wally looks into the kitchen where his mother and father were.

"Wallace, for the last time, he was just a friend!!"

"If he was a friend then why were you making out?! Willow for god sake! WE have been married for how long now exactly?! We have a son!!"

"THAT thing is not my son!!"

"Don't even start-"

"NO WALLACE!! THAT thing upstairs is not MY son!!"

Wally simply looks as the younger version of him runs upstairs, alerting the two, and was soon followed by the man he deems as his father, calling out his name and glaring at his nasty mother that had done nothing but insult and ridiculed him growing up.

Slowly, he walks away, going through a door. Ignoring the woman who decided to leave the stove open, ignoring as how the room was slowly engulfed with fire.

Well, I've lost it all, I'm just a silhouette I'm a lifeless face that you'll soon forget

He had lost sight of many things growing up, excused people's poor behavior towards himself till you came into his life, till you gave him a push that he needed to finally acknowledge that there was something wrong based on how he grew up. Years of friendship with you did him a good thing, a better thing, more than everyone in his life had done...

So why is it so hard to see you now?.....

My eyes are damp from the words you left Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest

Tears once again fall down his face, damp by the words that leave his mind, he cried as he watches both the young version of himself and the one that lost you to a point where it felt like you died...

The ringing soon followed, as both begged for the person they love to come back, the person that accepted him as himself....

Ringing in my head, when you broke my chest

More ringing as he felt something inside of him shatter like a glass.

Cracking even more as he watches...

The fog was back, hugging and cradling him as if he was its son....this time he was alone...

And if you're in love, then you are the lucky one

"Wally?"

He turns to the voice and there you sat down with him under the tree, up upon a cliff that overlooks the neighborhood you both live in. Up upon that cliff where he fell in more than one way...

"You alright there?"

Gentle as always, you ask him. He smiles at you, a loving one " I'm alright neighbor" 

"Be honest with me Mister or I swear-" He laughs " Or what??" he tease as he nudges you, tempting you.

You simply rolled you eyes at him with a smile, leaning against him as you both look down at the neighborhood. He looks down at you, wanting and wishing to stay at this moment, a moment where it's just you and him, a moment where he still had you and you still had him.

But not everything can stay how he want it to be...

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

The birds chirp from the outside, the sun was slowly rising up to greet the neighborhood. Wally rises up from his bed, rubbing his eyes as he stared outside tiredly. He lets out a heavy sigh, letting his hair fall down. 

After a few minutes of staying in bed and debating with himself, he finally stood up and left the comfort of his bed. Walking to a door to get himself ready for the day while fixing a picture that hang on the wall as he walked by it.

A picture of you and Wally up upon a cliff, underneath a tree, overlooking the neighborhood.

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

I hope you all enjoyed this!!

By the way, how are the colors and fonts treating you guys?

Tagged:

@venus-rome @capricorn-anon @mythjustiice @thecastanova @naruucore @terrybadz @anonymouslymadebydesign @lipstickghoulie @its-paprika @jaml0ver @quietuwu @totofranken @unluckyredflames @ritualgfs @etherealyblue @honeycovered-bandaids @siiiixxx @ms-dia

@just-random-post @mortallypleasantzombie @moondestiny2 @oceanlue @lillyisnice44 @mintycourage @thesmilingface @alishii @distinguished-procrastinator @justyuki1st @to-gay2-live @orcalover3000 @bunny-masks-blog @s0ggyrats @snappycity @thelivingdiary @soukihiko @tiredly101

#welcome home #welcomehomearg #wally darling x reader #wally x reader #wally x y/n #wally my beloved #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x you #wally x you #wally darling x self insert #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #wally darling #wally darling welcome home #wally welcome home

[hyunestrella]

★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 . YANG JEONGIN.

★༉ SUMMARY. You loved to rile him up, but he’d always win.

★༉ PAIRING. Yang Jeongin x GN! Reader.

★༉ GENRE. Whatever this is tbh.

— word count. 739 words.

— warnings. they/them pronouns, jealousy, commitment issues, toxic relationships, degradation (slut shaming), established ex-relationship (?), fwb(??), pet names (baby), whore jeongin, choking (kinda), extremely suggestive (not explicit though). let me know if i missed anything!!

— notes. 16+ to read.

— notes. think of the jeongin that’s sticking his tongue out & sinfully body rolling, bc thats who i am thinking of :]

— notes. i stayed up all night writing this, and was debating a nsfw ver. lmk of that’s something you’re interested in :)!

— masterlist.

Jeongin stood, leaning against the counter, his arms folded against his chest, nails digging into his biceps, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as his attention was zoned in on you.

You were dancing with someone else, someone who wasn’t him, head thrown back on their shoulder as their hand wrapped around your throat. Both your hips moved in time with the music.

Jeongin was pissed. Pissed that you were dancing with some douche bag that only wanted to get in your pants, pissed that you were doing this just to spite him, and he was pissed that he couldn’t do shit about it because you weren’t his.

The issue with Jeongin was that he couldn’t settle down. Time and time again he turned you down, told you that he wasn’t ready to commit to you, told you he wasn’t made for love. Yet you still let him hold you, kiss you, fuck you — hoping it would be enough change his mind.

Obviously, you were tired of waiting.

Jeongin’s eyebrows furrowed, face contorting into an ugly frown, as you looked over at him. The two of you made eye contact, holding it for as long as possible before you smiled, smirked, at him, and the blonde felt his anger turn into rage. He felt a hand on his shoulder, the weight of it helping to calm him a little, his eldest friend knowing him well, “they’re doing this to rile you up, ignore them.”

The blonde looked at Chan, considering his words for a moment — ignoring you would mean you lost, ignoring you would mean you wouldn’t be able to get the satisfaction of seeing him angry, ignoring you would mean you’d come running back to him.

Jeongin just smiled at his friend, dimples on full display hiding his true thoughts, “I will,” he looked back over at you, a bored look painted on your beautiful features. It was obvious the guy behind you was doing nothing to entertain you, he was nothing but a pawn in your twisted game, whispering nonsense in your ear that you didn’t care to hear. “If they wanna act like a slut, thats on them.”

Making your way to the bar, you allowed your boy toy to dance with some random, patting him on the arm as you left with a promise that you’d be back, but you both knew it was a lie.

Sure, he was attractive, but he was no Jeongin.

“Tired of him yet?” The blonde stood next to you, smiling at the pretty barmaid, as he tipped her when she put his drink before him. His hand moved to the small of your back, falling to your ass, fining its way into the pocket of your cargos. He looked down at you, sipping on his drink as he looked at you expectantly, “seem’s like he is of you.” He nodded to the man you were just with, grinding his crotch into someone’s backside.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, taking your own drink stirring it with the straw, “what’s it to you?” Your eye’s narrowed in on him.

Jeongin just chucked, taking his hand out of your back pocket, tapping your ass. “Stop playing, baby,” he leaned down to your ear, breath hot against it has he whispered, “I know you want me.” He kissed the shell of your ear, moving to your jaw. His kisses were wet, feverish, that had you gripping the fabric of his shirt as you tried to control your breathing. “You can stop with this attitude, I’m here now, yeah?” He cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him, and he smirked seeing the lust in your gaze, “You don’t need to try and make me jealous.”

Your lips fell into a pout, pulling away from his touch, “‘m not.” You huff, frowning as you massaged your forehead with your fingers, “I don’t want you.” You were lying through your teeth, you both knew that, but you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction, you couldn’t let him win.

The blonde seemed to have the same mindset, he pushed his lips to yours, and you melted instantly. Your free arm wrapping around his neck, as he pulled you in against him leaving no room between your bodies. When he pulled away, you chased his lips — too drunk on him to care about the game anymore, to care that you lost.

Jeongin won.

★༉‧₊˚✧ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@liknws , @l3visbby (++ followers from my old blog, lmk if you want to be removed.), @hyunverse , @seungbinbin , @sunboki , @choiwonder , @nebulousbookshelf , @cosmic-railwayxo

© @hyunestrella 2023.

#hyunestrella #k-labels #straykidsland #kflixnet #yang jeongin #skz jeongin #stray kids jeongin #straykids jeongin #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x y/n #skz #straykids #stray kids #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic

[morganski-19]

I Don’t Know Which Way’s Home

Chapter 1: The Reveal

ao3 link

September 1986

Julie slams the door shut when she comes home, she doesn’t mean to, most of the time. But today, she really does. And the hinge is already broken so what harm is it really going to do? So she ignores the comment her mom makes about it and does it again with her bedroom door, hearing the slam vibrate the walls of the trailer. 

She’s just so sick of it. It’s like every single class decides to do some stupid project that just makes her stand out from the beginning in front of kids who might not already know. Not like anyone does. Everyone knows everyone’s business in this town, and Julie’s family situation is no different. 

The problem today, was the beginning-year project her Spanish teacher assigned. A family tree, something simple to introduce yourself to the class and to see what you remembered from the last year. The only problem is, Julie is always missing half a tree. 

Her father has been a void in her life for its entirety. There’s no face to the name, and no name to even put a face to. Her mother won’t tell her anything, not even a peep. The most she knows is that he was a mistake her mom made for a few months that ended as soon as she became pregnant. Which translated into Julie’s mind that she was an accident. And with how their situation turned out, she couldn’t help but believe it was true. 

So when she’s reminded of the fact that her existence on this Earth is due to one of her mother’s flings that never lasts a year, she gets to slam a few doors. She gets to play the Iron Maiden tape she found on the ground one day at full volume without complaint. She doesn’t even like it that much, but it was free and loud enough to match the screaming that was going on inside her head. 

That’s the worst part, with how angry she can get about her family situation, she can never be mad at her mom for too long. Not after everything she’s done to make sure Julie had a good life. Not a perfect one, but one where they at least had a roof over their heads and weren’t living on the streets. 

It’s bad enough that her mom had to work two jobs just to get them by, she didn’t need to deal with all of Julie’s problems on top of that.

“Would you like to tell me why you’ve just permanently broken the front door, or am I supposed to guess?” Her mom says after coming into the room without knocking and turning the music down. 

Julie grunts from where her face is dug into the pillow. Hoping that it was enough to make her mom leave, but it never was. 

“Come on,” her mom gives her a soft shove. “You don’t get to barge into the house and break a door without explanation. What’s up?”

“What up is a stupid Spanish project,” Julie complains angrily as she rolls onto her back, glaring at the ceiling. “It’s a stupid family tree where I know I’ll be questioned on it in front of the whole class, again, on why I ‘failed to include my dad on the tree’. Like I would fucking leave him out on purpose.”

She feels the bed dip as her mom sits on the foot of it. “I’ll let that slide this time because you’re upset.”

“Yeah, I am. I just am so tired of explaining it in every single damn class I seem to have that he just left and I have no clue who he is. They don’t have a right to my life and I don’t need the pity looks they give me once they figure it out. And what’s worse is that everyone in the class already knows except for the teacher, so dumb Billy Johnson will start snickering or some shit, and then I’m the kid without a dad all over again.”

“Bullies really need to get some new material,” her mom jokes without hesitation.

Julie snorts. “Tell me about it. “ She gets softer, already feeling the anger start to dissipate. And when it does, all that is left is the gaping hole in her heart that she knows will never be filled. “I don’t even care that he’s not in my life anymore, I accepted that he wouldn’t be a long time ago. I just want to know who he is. Why I’m here. Why you won’t tell me anything about him.”

“I just don’t think-”

“Oh just save it mom, I’ve heard all the excuses. I’m not a little kid anymore who writes that her dad will want to know her in her Santa letters anymore. I know he doesn’t give a shit about me, I just want to know who. I deserve to have a name to not give a shit about either.”

Her bed rises again as her mom leaves, turning the music back to full volume and shutting the door softly behind her. Julie rolls back over, pulling her blankets over her head, and starts to feel like shit again. 

It’s not just the fact that she doesn’t have a present dad that bullies love to tease, there are more kids than you’d expect with only one parent. It’s that her mom wasn’t married when she had Julie that was the problem. Unwanted pregnancies are like drugs for small towns, they spread like wildfire. The second the neighbor saw that her mom had a significant bump, it was everywhere. And then the kids heard it from their parents at every school function. 

It’s all, “Oh poor Julie Lawson, her mother couldn’t keep a boyfriend long enough for her to have a real dad.” Like they have the right to comment on Julie’s family. Or her mom. No one does, not even her. 

. . . 

October 1986, Present Day

Steve walks in after his shift with two pizzas, a six-pack of beer, and Robin right behind him. It was Friday, which means that Robin, Eddie, and him shook off the kids for a night to watch a movie. Alone. They loved the kids but sometimes it was nice to have a night without chaos. Calming even. 

Eddie wasn’t coming over for a few more hours because of his band practice, so Steve stuck the pizzas in the oven so they stayed warm. Robin already makes herself at home, rummaging through the fridge to find something to drink and making a nest out of blankets in the living room when she does. Steve follows her, digging himself into the nest and putting something on the TV. 

An hour or so later, he hears a knock at the front door. Robin gives him a concerned look as he leaves the living room to open it. Eddie had a key so he just let himself in, and they weren’t expecting anyone else. And with their track record, it could go from random salesperson to world apocalypse pretty fast. 

When he opens the door, a girl he guesses is around Dustin’s age is there, nervously playing with her hands, a backpack loosely thrown over her shoulder. “Hi, sorry to bother you but, do the Harrington’s live here?” she asks shyly.

“Yes, I’m Steve. Who are you?” There is a familiarity to her face that he can’t quite place.  

“Steve, right, he had a son. Sorry, this week’s been weird. I’m uh, my name is Julie. Your dad kinda knew my mom.”

He must have met her at one of his dad’s work events, that has to be why she looks familiar. “Oh ok, did she have to drop something off here or something?”

“Well, kinda. But it’s not what you’re probably expecting.” She pauses looking unsure of what she is going to say next. “Can I- can I come it, you might want to sit down for what I have to say. It’s kind of shocking.”

“I’m not sure, I don’t really know you. Could you tell me who your mom is, maybe I can remember you then.”

She takes a deep breath. “When I said that my mom knew your dad, I didn’t mean from work. Well, I did mean from work but she hasn’t worked for him in over fifteen years, so I doubt you’d remember her. She was his secretary for a while, and they had a very,” she pauses again, looking around to see if anyone is there. “Intimate, relationship.”

The dots clicked immediately in his head, thoughts immediately started to run around about who this girl could really be. He thinks that her offer to sit down was probably necessary. “Yeah, why don’t you come in.”

“Ok.” She steps through the doorway, waiting for him to lead her through the house. 

He brings her to the kitchen, motioning for her to sit at the small table. Grabbing a few glasses, he fills them with water and brings them over, placing one in front of her. She thanks him, taking it and gulping it down with shaky hands. The more he looks at her, the more he can’t help but see more and more similarities, just ones that remind him of himself. 

“Who was it, Steve,” Robin asks, wandering into the kitchen. “Oh shit, hi.”

“Rob, this is Julie, her mom apparently knew my dad.” Steve makes a motion with his head to indicate how, hoping that she can read it right. 

Her eyes widen in shock. “Oh like, special knew. Like knew knew.”

“Yes,” Julie says weakly. “Yeah, they did.”

“Oh shit,” Robin takes a seat next to Steve, her hand immediately finding his. It brings comfort, reassurance that she’s there. He knew his dad was a piece of crap cheater, his mom certainly made it known during many of their screaming matches. But with the girl staring at him with the same eyes he sees every morning in the mirror, his brain can’t help but jump to the conclusion that she’s, something. And that just makes his chest tighten in anxiety.

“I, uh.” Julie starts, wringing her hand nervously again. “I don’t really know how to say this gently. But, when my mom worked for your dad, they had an affair. It didn’t last that long, but remember when I said my mom stopped working for him like fifteen years ago? It was actually seventeen because that’s when she figured out she was pregnant.”

Steve feels a lump forming in his throat as she nods, trying to take it all in. “With you?” he asks, not knowing how he is even speaking at all right now. Robin squeezes his hand.

Julie gives a small nod, looking down at the table. “Yeah.”

“And my dad is-” he can’t finish the sentence, but it’s answered by her sorry nod. “Holy shit.” 

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to wrap his head around everything. This girl, Julie, is his sister. Half-sister, whatever, it doesn’t matter. Robin breaks her contact with him and goes to rub his back instead. His head falls into his hands propped up on the table and he just focuses on breathing. 

“Steve, you ok?” Robin’s voice soothes him a little bit, but when your world just gets shattered, there’s not much that can be done to help completely. 

“I knew he cheated. I knew that. It’s why my mom followed him around on all his trips. But he- he had a kid, and just hid it.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot, I have proof if you want to see it.”

Steve looks at Robin, asking her what to do with his eyes. She shrugs, her way of saying that it couldn’t hurt. Probably is better that they have proof anyway, make sure this is legit. He nods, unable to say anything. 

“Could we see it? Just to double-check everything,” Robin asks for him. God, he’s so happy that she’s here. He can’t imagine doing this by himself

Julie ruffles around in her backpack, random clothes peeping out as she pulls out a file. She opens it, pulling out two pieces of paper before going in again and pulling out what looks like a school ID. “Here’s my birth certificate and the paternity test. And my ID with my picture on it, so you know it’s me.”

The first thing he sees is his father’s name on the test results, followed by the line saying his relation to Julie is undeniable. That he was undeniably the father. The birth certificate only has the signature of her mother and the doctor, but the father’s name is absent. He ditched them, probably made her mom prove that this kid was his, and then just paid them to shut them up. His mom would never know, he would never know, and they never had access to any of his records. 

Julie Rebecca Lawson, born January 28, 1970. He was three when she was born. He’s had a sibling this whole time, and he didn’t even know it. 

“Does your mom know you’re here?” Robin asks, softly. 

Julie’s face visibly falls as she rapidly blinks away some tears. “She- she died two weeks ago. Car accident.”

“I’m so sorry, Julie,” Robin reaches across to comfort her, but the hand she was going to grab gets pulled away. “Whoever is watching you then, do they know where you are?”

She sniffles. “I’ve been staying with a foster family while they find a permanent placement. They don’t really care where I am. My caseworkers were trying to find some family, but my grandparents are long gone and my mom’s sister is in no place to take in a kid. So they were looking on my dad’s side.” She says the word dad as if they don’t fit right in her mouth. 

“I didn’t come here looking for a place to say,” she continues. “Right before my mom passed, she finally told me about my dad. How he never wanted anything to do with me because he had a big reputation and another family. It was supposed to be a secret, but the more I thought about it, I couldn’t help but think that you had a right to know. And then since she-, since I needed a place to stay, it was only a matter of time before you found out. I knew he was out of town so I thought it might be better to say it myself. Now I’m not so sure that was such a great idea.”

“No,” Steve finally says. “I’m, I’m glad you told me. You’re right, we, me and my mom, had a right to know. So, thank you.” He turns to look at Robin, her face shifting when she sees the panic in his. “Rob, could I talk to you for a minute?”

She stands. “Yeah. We’ll be right back, ok Julie.” 

Julie says a soft reply as Robin leads Steve to the living room. “I don’t know what to do, Rob.”

“How could you? You just found out that your dad had another kid. With another woman. And then hid it from you. How are you supposed to cope with that information?”

“I don’t know. I have no clue what to do. But I can’t-. Shit Rob, I want to help her.”

“Steve, you don’t know her, at all. She just spawned on your doorstep not even an hour ago and just dropped the biggest bombshell on you since the, you know what. I get that you want to help her, I do. Shit, I do too. But I’m just asking that you take a step back and think about this.”

Steve crosses his arms, pulling his eyebrows together. The decision was pretty much made in his mind, but she was right. “What if she stays the night, we sleep on this and get to know her more tomorrow. Then we can go from there.”

“Ok,” she puts a hand on Steve’s arm. “That’s a good plan.” 

Robin steps forward, pulling him into a hug before they walk back into the kitchen. Julie looks back up at them, uncertainty filling her face. It reminds him so much of himself it sort of hurts. “Julie, you can stay the night, if you want to. That way tomorrow we can talk some more, and get to know each other, figure out what to do about this. But I can drive you back to the house you’re staying at if you’d like.”

“Could I stay here, I really don’t like it there.” The fear that coats her eyes with the mention only makes it worse. 

“Come on, I’ll show you the guest room.”

Julie stands, grabs her bag and follows after Steve. When he shows her to the room, she stands in it like like she knows she doesn’t belong. He can’t help but think it’s not the first time she’s felt like this, especially since he’s pretty sure she brought enough clothes for a few days in her bag. 

He tells her where the bathroom is, where his bedroom is if she needs anything. She nods silently. The similarities between them keep coming in waves. Sure they’re not like an exact match. But her eyes, her jawline, her hair, it’s ever so similar to his. If they were to walk down the street together, it would be clear that they were siblings. 

The fact that it’s true just keeps shocking him all over again. 

“You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen, and there’s plenty of supplies in the bathroom if you need any. I keep it all under the sink. And, don’t be afraid to ask for anything, ok?” He stands there awkwardly, not quite knowing what else to do. 

“Ok,” she replies softly, placing her bag on the bed and pulling out some things. 

When he shuts the door behind him, it finally hits. He practically runs back down the stairs to find Robin waiting in the living room, on the phone with someone. 

“Yeah, something came up and we can’t do movie night anymore. No nothing bad, yeah no he’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all good, just a migraine. Yep. I’ll have him call you tomorrow. No, you don’t need to do that. Ok, bye.” Robin turns to him when she hangs up the phone. “Eddie, thought it was pretty clear that movie night was canceled.”

“Yeah, no, it was. I-” the words get stuck in his throat. “I have a sister, Rob.”

Robin crosses over to him, pulling his fingers away from where they held his arms in a death grip. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now.”

“Angry mostly. How could he keep this from us, from my mom? From me? Do you know how many times I wished for a sibling, only for me to have one all along and just not know about it? And then she goes through life knowing her dad didn’t want her. I can’t begin to imagine what that is like.”

“Pretty shitty probably. What do you really want to do about all of this Steve?”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I want to help her, get to know her. But I-I don’t know if I can do this.”

“She wasn’t asking you to fix everything. She just lost her mom, I think she just wants someone to lean on like that again.”

“But what if I can’t even do that?”

Robin gives him a soft look that he knows means he’s overthinking it all again. “Let’s go get some sleep ok. We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

They walk upstairs, passing the room that Julie is staying in on the way to his. He remembers being little and looking at the empty guest rooms in his house, wondering when people would come to fill them. Wishing that when they did, they’d stay for longer than a week. Maybe then he wouldn’t be alone anymore. 

When he was really young, he would sit in the rooms and pretend that it was other kids that filled them. Brothers and sisters that he got to play with for however long he wanted to. His nights would feel less empty and during the day he’d be less lonely. He’d be like every other kid on the playground with their siblings, pushing them on the swings and chasing them around the park. The house would be full of noise instead of deafening silence. 

But that day never came. The years went on and he kept getting older. His mom went on more and more trips and then just stopped calling. The only time his dad ever called was after the police told him that he’d thrown a party. He used to just mess up just to hear his dad’s voice. Because then maybe he could convince himself that his dad cared for him. If you're disappointed enough to yell, that has to mean you care about something. 

Most people say wait until you’re older and then you’ll understand like it’s some kind of mystery that everyone cheers when you solve it. Not knowing that some mysteries only crush the people around them. Steve Harrington spent most of his life alone and it wasn’t until he graduated and no one from his family showed up that he finally accepted why. 

As he looks back at the guest room, he can’t help but feel that part of himself get unearthed again. That sad little kid that begged for someone who he could grow up with. Knowing that was there across town all his life only makes him hurt all over again. 

The urge to call his dad right then and there is strong. To scream at him for hiding something that he wanted for so long. Yell at him for being a piece of shit to not just him, but to his mom, and to Julie. He was used to his dad, no one else deserved to be hurt like he was. 

. . . 

Julie lays in a bed that is bigger than one she’s owned in her entire life. Having one of this size would make it easier when she and her mom would share when her back was too sore after her double shifts to take the cot. The sheets are softer and clearly barely used, the fabric smells of fresh flowers. 

She’s almost angry at all of this. That one person could have so much and be so cruel. That Steve got more out of their dad than she ever did. But one of them was wanted, the other clearly wasn’t. 

The word still feels weird in her mind. Their dad. She didn’t even know the guy but she spent so long hating someone who was a dad to someone else. But by the lack of family pictures on the wall and the way Steve talked about him just briefly, it doesn’t look like he was much of a dad to Steve either. 

She wonders what it’s like to live in this giant house alone. The empty walls and rooms prepared for people but never filled. There were at least two living rooms in this house and a kitchen just made for a party. A house so perfect from the outside but so broken from within. 

Steve at least seemed nice, even after she broke the news. Hell, she’s still here, isn’t she? In her mind, she was preparing for the worst. To be kicked out on the curb right after even implying that her father was just that, her father. Because a businessman with a poster family could never do anything wrong, could never be a terrible person who would have a kid and just abandon it. 

But she was believed, and accepted. Allowed to stay the night in a house she always dreamed of living in with a family she didn’t even know existed. She just hopes that in the morning it all won’t go to shit like everything else in her life seems to. 

. . . 

September 1986

Julie hears her mom call out for dinner from the kitchen. As much as she’d like to still be angry, she can’t force herself to avoid her mom forever. For what it’s worth, her mom is all she has in the realm of family and a friend. There’s no one who knows her like she does, and it’d just be cruel to let the pain of the past dwell any longer. 

Except this isn’t a pain of the past, not for Julie. Almost daily she’s reminded that there’s someone out there who doesn’t care enough to know her, and that person is half the reason she exists. It seemed like everyone else in this town knew who their father was, even if they weren’t around, except for her. 

But she can’t help but think about what her mom went through. How raising a kid on her own had to be, especially in a town like this. Someone she obviously cared about just dropping her after a positive test and leaving her high and dry. Life was hard, but she managed, somehow. Julie’s not so sure she would have in her position. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” her mother starts once the table is cleared. She goes to sit back at the table, placing a folder on top of it. “What you said earlier, you’re right. You have a right to know who your father is, whether he’s in your life or not.”

Julie sits across from her mom. “I was just angry before, you really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

It’s a lie and they both know it. 

“No, you need to know. There’s going to be a point in the future where you’ll need to know certain things, medical history and such. And there might be a day when his family finds out about you and comes asking for questions.”

“His family,” she says shocked. 

Her mom nods. “A wife and a son. He had both of them already when we were together.”

Julie’s entire world shifts. “What?”

“A year before you were born, I worked as a secretary for Richard Harrington in his business, well his dad’s business at the time. We entered an, inappropriate relationship, which ended up in you.”

“Inappropriate’s one way to say it,” she jokes under her breath. “He’s a big deal in town, Mom, his whole family is.”

Her mom nods. “It was risky and stupid and I never should have done it. But back then, he was good at hiding what a terrible person he was behind his looks and his charm. It wasn’t until you got to know him and got on his bad side that things went south.”

“So, when you got pregnant with me?”

“It went south, fast. I told him, he wanted you gone but I couldn’t go through with it. So instead we came up with a deal. I prove you were his with a paternity test, and he gives me a monthly payment to shut me up. It wasn’t a lot, clearly, but it would be enough to pay off the trailer in a few years and make sure we had money for bills.”

“I’m surprised that he gave you anything at all.” It really couldn’t have been that much if her mom had to work two jobs just in order to scrape by. 

“The rich will do anything to keep a secret, including bribery. Everything you could ever need to know about him is in this file. With a copy of your birth certificate and the paternity test. Just so you have it. I’m sorry I kept it from you for so long.”

She looks at the file in her hand. It’s still pretty empty, but it has just enough. “I can see why you did. It’d be worse for you for a kid to accidentally tell everyone their dad is a Harrington.”

“It’d be bad.” Her mom clears her throat, looking down at her hands. “I also didn’t want you to think differently of me. I slept with a married man after all, for a year. That’s a pretty shitty thing to do to someone, even if you don’t know them.”

“Yeah, it is.” Julie would be lying if she said it didn’t come as a shock, that her mom would do that. All this time she thought that her dad was some drugged-up guy that she hooked up with for a month or two before they stole all her cash and ran off. That’s who her boyfriends were in the past few years, so it wouldn’t have been a surprise. But a married man, one with a kid, that’s a new one.  “Do you regret it? Sleeping with him.”

“All the time, but then I’d never have you.” She reaches her hands across the table and cups them around Julie’s. “You’re my life, Jules. I love you more than anything, and I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant never having you.” 

Julie puts a smile on her face. “Love you too, Mom. And thank you for telling me about this. Now I have a name to not give a shit about.”

“Yeah, now you do.”

Her mom gives her one last smile before going to the living room and setting up her cot. Julie takes the file and heads to her room, shutting the door softly behind her. 

She doesn’t know how to describe what she’s feeling. Like a weight has been lifted off of her but a new feeling of dread came to replace it. The name of the person who she’s hated for so long is in her hands, and she doesn’t know what to do with it other than hate him more. He had a wife, and a kid, a young kid, and he still went and had an affair. 

When she lies in her bed, waiting for sleep to come, all she can picture is the face of the man who ruined not only one life but three. And while her mom isn’t blameless, she can’t help but think that there is more to the story than her just willingly sleeping with him. She imagines taking her fist and hitting him straight in his smug face. Once for her mom, and once for her. 

Chapter 2

tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @adaed5, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve has a sibling #Julie Lawson #original female character #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #found family #secret family #steve's dad is a piece of shit #a real nasty one

[littlemourningstarr]

Careening Towards Oblivion

Sorcerous Sundries should have been a quick stop for Gale and his infatuation with the Crown. Instead, it provides a megalomaniac wizard with an infatuation with one Dame Aylin and a reunion that has been far overdue since Last Light.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav ; Astarion x Rolan x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, hurt/comfort, there was only one bed, tiefling tails are a gift, relationship negotiation, blowjobs, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, praise kink

“Gale, just wait a moment!” Sekh called, as the wizard took off possibly faster than the drow had ever seen him move, heading for Sorcerous Sundries. Sekh sighed, hand falling to his side, knowing it was a lost cause.

“I didn’t know he could move that fast,” Astarion mused, folding his arms and leaning against Sekh’s shoulder. “Do you think if we dangled a book from a stick in front of him he’d chase it? Like a horse with a carrot?”

Lae’zel snorted a very undignified laugh, as Sekh side eyed his lover. “Play nice Astarion.”

“Oh darling, I am always nice.” Still, the elf straightened, gesturing for Sekh to lead on. Sekh hurried, fearing that may have lost Gale for good.

Sorcerous Sundries was busy, far more than a bookstore. If the teeming magic displays outside hadn’t been enough, there seemed to be just as many inside. It was quite chaotic. They’d have fun finding Gale in the chaos.

They were searching about for him, when Sekh saw a very familiar face, across the room. He felt his pulse quicken, a smile growing so wide on his face it ached. “Rolan!” he called, tearing away from the group, running for the circular desk at the center of the room. He slowed when he came near, smile dropping away as he took in the tiefling’s face.

Bruised, little knicks dotting his skin- a fresh one, on his lip.

“Well look who it is,” Rolan mused, smiling, seeming not to take notice of Sekh’s shock. “I had wondered if I’d bump into you here.”

Sekh moved up to the desk, grasped its edge, leaned over so he could get closer. “Rolan,” he said, his voice dropping, “who did this to you?”

Rolan’s smile fell away and he reached up, touched one of the bruises along his cheek. “It’s nothing,” he said, quite obviously trying to brush Sekh off. “Don’t dwell on it.”

Sekh tightened his hold on the desk, leaned until it dug into his ribs. “Rolan.” His voice pulled from his chest, and he saw something almost tremble in the tiefling’s eyes. “Tell me who.”

The wizard hesitated, before sighing, glancing away. “My… apprenticeship hasn’t been exactly what I expected.”

Sekh ground his teeth together. Rolan didn’t need to say more- that made it clear that Lorroakan was behind the injuries.

Rolan refused to meet Sekh’s gaze, after that. He had boasted of this apprenticeship since the drow had met him- it was clear that he was embarrassed at his current state, that whatever Lorroakan had promised him wasn’t what he had expected.

Sekh inhaled slowly, tried to calm his anger. “Can I start again?” he asked, and Rolan finally looked back at him. “There’s been… a lot, lately. I’ve never been good with my anger.”

“No, you haven’t,” Rolan teased, a smile beginning to pull at his lips. “I suppose I owe it to you to let you start over. Once. Don’t be greedy.”

Sekh felt his belly dancing, butterflies fluttering like mad. It was strange, to feel so giddy over someone other than Astarion.

Sekh cleared his throat, and as if just the thought of the vampire summoned him, the elf walked up to his side as Sekh said, “It’s good to see you again.”

“Better.” Rolan glanced at Astarion, who eyed him, silently noting the state he was in. And then, not so silently,

“Who in the sweet hells put their hands on you?”

Rolan sighed, mumbled about how the two were far too alike. Astarion turned his stare to Sekh, giving him a questioning look, and Sekh mouthed Lorroakan. Astarion clamped his mouth shut then, looking at Rolan with concern. After all, he understood an abusive master better than most.

“It is good to see you,” Sekh stressed again. “I hoped that you and Cal and Lia had made it here safely. Where are they?”

Rolan reached for the open book on the desk, flipping a page, seeming fidgety. “Off and about, causing whatever trouble they so like. Lorroakan… doesn’t allow them to stay here.” Sekh frowned, realized Astarion was frowning as well. “Which is possibly for the best. I wouldn’t see much of them regardless- and gods, if they had to hear the endless prattle about the Nightsong like I do…”

“Nightsong?” Sekh glanced at Astarion, before looking back at Rolan. “She’s at our camp.”

Rolan’s eyes widened, before he chuckled. “You must be mistaken. The Nightsong is a relic… and Master Lorroakan’s obsession. But… if you have information on it, he will want to see you.”

“Am I allowed to rough him up a bit?” Sekh asked- and oh, Rolan did smile over that. “Just a little.”

“Come now darling,” Astarion said, wrapping an arm around Sekh’s waist and quite visibly pulling him away. “Flirt with your little wizard later. We’d best find Gale and figure out what this madman wants with Aylin.”

Rolan’s cheeks flushed redder, as Sekh stumbled for words, letting Astarion pull him away. They were out of earshot when he managed, “I wasn’t flirting.”

“Oh I know love,” Astarion said, “you are a bit more charming than that. But it was a delight to see Rolan go that pretty shade of red.”

The vampire paused, quirked a brow at Sekh- and, alright, he couldn’t argue. It had been a rather fetching shade.

“Now, next time,” Astarion whispered, leaning in to breathe into Sekh’s ear, “I’ll show you how to really fluster him.”

The vampire pecked his cheek affectionately, and there wasn’t a bone in Sekh’s body that wanted to argue the offer.

*

There was a portal at the top of the stairs that led to Lorroakan’s showroom. Sekh didn’t know what else to call it, as he stepped out with Astarion, Gale, and Lae’zel. They found the room large, open, showy and flashy.

A human in vibrant red robes watched them, a construct at his side lowering a bow. Sekh assumed he had to be Lorroakan- he had a look about his face that made Sekh desperately want to punch him. Just once.

Maybe twice. Three times, for good measure-

“I see no sign of the Nightsong,” the man said, as the party stopped, a few paces away. “Surely you wouldn’t waste my time. Surely you wouldn’t come empty handed.”

He spoke as if he was the greatest thing to bless the city, as if his time was holy. If Sekh hadn’t already had reasons to quite abhor him, he was finding all new ones.

“What do you want with her?” he asked, managing to keep his voice calm. Lorroakan perked at that.

“Her. Interesting. You’ve been to the Shadowfell, then?” Sekh only managed a nod, before Lorroakan continued speaking. He quite liked the sound of his own voice, didn’t he? “Now tell me, where is the Nightsong? And do make haste, I haven’t all day.”

“She’d eat you alive,” Astarion said, looking the man up and down and appearing- displeased.

Lorroakan laughed then. Sekh frowned, took a step closer to him. “She could be so lucky. No, I have plans for the Nightsong.” From his robes, Lorroakan produced a wand, turning it to gleam in the light. It was heavily ornate, a gaudy thing. “With this, I can trap her securely in place, and siphon her immortality into myself. I can become a god.”

“There’s more to godhood than immortality,” Astarion mumbled, his own near brush with a divine becoming all too fresh.

“What was that? Do speak up boy,” Lorroakan said, and Sekh heard Astarion snarl. Before he or the vampire could act, Gale was stepping up, placing a hand on Sekh’s shoulder.

“Nothing, nothing, just a mere observation regarding the… extensive criteria of godhood,” Gale offered. Lorroakan studied him for a moment, before his mouth upturned in an ugly grin.

And of course he recognized Mystra’s discarded lap dog, as he put it. He went on a small tirade regarding Gale’s fall from grace, and Sekh knew in that moment he wanted nothing more than to see this man’s skull caved in.

“I’ll tell Aylin to come,” he said, and Lorroakan instantly turned his attention to him. “If only to see her cave your skull in. For all the shit you just said.” He paused, then added, “And for daring to put your hands on Rolan.”

The wizard furrowed his brows, seeming confused for a moment. “The apprentice? What has he got to do with you?”

Sekh refused to answer, though. He turned on his heel, storming for the portal- knowing he needed to leave before he did something rash. Before he caved the man’s skull in himself, and denied Aylin the joy.

*

As expected, Aylin was more than pleased to present herself to Lorroakan. Sekh had felt bad that the aasimar had requested Isobel stay behind- he knew the feeling all too well of wanting to get a good hit or ten in on someone who wanted to hurt the person you loved.

He was alarmed to see Rolan wasn’t at the desk at the center of Sorcerous Sundries upon their return- but couldn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Once they were done with Lorroakan, Rolan would be safe.

They found the megalomaniac of a wizard perched on his throne of tomes, one levitating in the air as he idly flipped through it. He gave them barely a glance, as they emerged from the portal- until Aylin took shape, imposing and regal.

Aylin addressed the man, her voice snide, quite done with the bullshit of preening, overzealous men. As she did, Sekh took in the room- elementals, flitting about- one of Lorroakan’s constructs, a walking suit of armor-

And then Rolan. Rolan, looking at Aylin with starlight eyes, as if she couldn’t be real. 

Sekh turned his attention back to Lorroakan, found the wizard was looking at him now as he spoke- “and do what he came here to do.”

Sekh frowned. “You’re a fool, Lorroakan. I came here to watch Aylin put you in your place.”

The wizard frowned, drew up ugly lines along his face as Aylin laughed. Sekh could just hear Rolan whisper, my gods, the Nightsong is a person. He had moved up closer, was standing next to Lorroakan now. Sekh glanced next to him, at Astarion- but the vampire’s eyes were locked on their wizard and the small gap of space between he and Lorroakan. He looked ready to spring.

It made Sekh smile.

“Boy! At the ready!” Lorroakan snapped his fingers, didn’t even look at Rolan, and the tiefling frowned, brows furrowing.

“No, Master Lorroakan. If I had known the Nightsong was a person, I never would have helped you.” He was still looking at Aylin, awestruck. Sekh understood. There was little in the divine he could respect- but Aylin felt like an expectation, to him. Immortal yes, but not quite godly enough to think the world below her.

Lorroakan jerked his head, looked at Rolan as if no one had said the word no to him his entire life. “I will make sure no wizard in the realms touches you boy- do. As. You’re. Told.”

“That sounds like a fine deal to me.” Rolan took a step away from Lorroakan, eyes moved to Sekh now- a little smile beginning to form on his battered face. “I’ve seen true leadership, but never under your tutelage.”

Another step, and Lorroakan reached out, grasped Rolan’s robes, jerked him back a step. Sekh tensed, fingers curled, magic beginning to course through him. “I’m going to enjoy breaking each of your fingers,” he growled, as the wizard turned his attention to him- chuckled, eyeing the magic crackling at his fingers.

“What childish magic is this?” he asked, flicking his other hand so his elementals moved in closer. “Death magic and- what, borrowed weave from the fey do I sense? Pathetic.”

Sekh bared his teeth, but before he could speak he heard Astarion- and realized the elf was no longer at his side. “You talk too much.”

Lorroakan’s eyes went wide, the voice coming from behind him. In a swift movement Astarion kicked him in the small of his back, sent him stumbling, and the world erupted into chaos. The elementals rushed them, a sudden cascade of ice, wind, fire all over, as they all scrambled to get their bearings.

Aylin drew her sword and went right for Lorroakan. Sekh caught sight of Gale focusing in on him as well- while Lae’zel cleaved into an air elemental, losing no momentum even as her sword eased through it and the elemental barely reacted.

Sekh ran a few steps, grabbed Rolan by the wrist, and pulled him away from Lorroakan, as the man rolled onto his hip, let loose a storm of fire that had Aylin pulling back to avoid singeing her wings. “Get out of here,” he breathed, but Rolan pulled his wrist back, stood firm- smiled.

“And let you do all the heroing again? I think not.” He turned as the Earth elemental rushed them, firing glittering missiles into it with such force it jerked back. “Your fight is my fight.”

Sekh smiled then, was about to speak- when he heard a pained yell. He turned his attention to the sound, found Astarion gripping his daggers tightly, an arrow sticking out of his belly, lodged in his now-replaced armor.

The vampire looked pissed. Sekh turned to the magic fueled suit that was notching another arrow, sent a stream of shadows at it- only to have them nearly devoured by Lorroakan’s fire. In the same instant another arrow sliced through the air, this time lodging in Astarion’s shoulder.

He didn’t even drop his dagger. He ran at the thing, foot connecting with what would be its chest, sent it flying back. As he did the water elemental turned, shot him off balance with water that looked so cold it could freeze the skin.

Sekh ran, leapt onto the elemental, hand grasping at its chest as shadows poured into it. He fumbled for his sword as he did so, the thing thrashing, the sounds in the room all melding together- rushing air, bursting fire, crashes of metal and bone, grunts of exertion, pain-

He got his sword through the elemental’s side, and it faltered, teetered down. It threw Sekh off balance, and he rolled to the floor, landing on his hip and watching as Astarion ran directly into the elemental, daggers digging in deep- another arrow sticking out of his belly now. He could see the blood trailing down his armor.

Sekh pushed himself up, as Astarion pulled his daggers free and stabbed again and again, until the elemental went still, becoming nothing but clumps of dirt and rock.

Only a few away, a burst of flame hit the floor, singeing the carpet.

Sekh ran the short distance, got down on the ground and grabbed Astarion’s face, forcing him to look at him. He was paler than he had been just moments ago- but his eyes were alert. “I’m fine,” he said, just as Sekh heard Rolan dropping to his knees, next to them, looking alarmed.

“You have four arrows sticking out of you,” Sekh said, trying to keep calm. Astarion wasn’t dying, it would be alright. It would be alright.

“An inconvenience.” Astarion moved to stand, but grimaced, one of the arrows looking as if it dug deeper into his belly. He bared his fangs over the pain, and Sekh grasped his arm, easing him back down, looking at Rolan.

“Keep him safe,” he said, much to Astarion’s protests. Sekh turned his attention back to his vampire. “Cover me?” he asked, and Astarion looked at him, confused for a moment-

Before he grinned, dropped his daggers, and reached for his hand crossbows. “Don’t get yourself killed,” he said, and Sekh turned, rushing back into the fray. It was chaos, all around him- Gale’s magic mingling with Lorroakan’s, Aylin dashing about on her glorious wings- Lae’zel dancing between the elementals.

Sekh could only react. A stab at the water elemental, dropping to avoid some of Gale’s attacks, only to have to run nearly across the room to avoid Lorroakan’s. Sweat was clinging to his spine, his scalp, his breaths coming in quick pants, and he felt they were making little progress.

And then a very well placed arrow hit Lorroakan in the back of his shoulder. He gave a yell, and Sekh glanced across the room, saw Astarion lowering his dominant hand to fire with his off hand, hitting Lorroakan in the back. He was propped up now, back to Rolan’s chest, as the wizard knelt, eyes aglow as he sent his own storm of fire and sheer, undiluted weave into the fray, an arm around Astarion’s chest to keep him steady.

The second long lapse it gave the human was all Aylin needed- she was there, smashing him in his face with the hilt of her sword, shattering his nose and sending him stumbling back. She dropped the sword completely, grabbed him by the collar of his robe, sent her armored fist careening into his face until his head snapped back.

He was going limp, and Sekh wondered if he was even conscious. Aylin grasped his body then, lifted him high- and in a single, swift motion, brought his back down against her knee. The crack of his spine reverberated throughout the room.

The moment the sound broke, the elementals collapsed into lifeless piles- the armor clamoring to the floor in the same fashion.

All of the magic died with Lorroakan.

Aylin stood there, panting, looking… pained. Sekh wanted to go to her, but he stumbled in a run across the room back to Astarion and Rolan. The wizard was still holding his vampire, and Astarion was grinning, even if he was breathing rather heavy. Sekh took his face in his hands, stroked his chilled cheeks with his thumbs, before he looked up, caught Rolan’s eyes-

So soft despite their fire. Looking at Sekh with a relief that was palpable.

“You did it,” Rolan whispered, “the bastard is dead.”

“I’d argue that- ah,” Astarion bit his lip as he shifted, the arrows still lodged in him moving. “Bloody hells. I’d argue that Aylin did most of that. Maybe Gale.”

Sekh didn’t argue, as he heard Aylin’s footsteps, walking over. Gale and Lae’zel crowded in as well, as Aylin crouched down, lifting Astarion into her arms like a princess with ease.

Shockingly, he didn’t fight it. If anything, Sekh noticed a bit of color rising on those overly pale cheeks. “I’ll get him back to Isobel and Shadowheart,” she offered, much to Sekh’s relief. The longer they left those arrows like that, the more damage they could do.

Glancing at the whole group, Sekh decided they all needed a bit of healing. He stood up, offered his hand to Rolan and helped pull him up. He wanted to stay, to patch him up-

But Astarion needed him.

“I have to go with him,” Sekh said, “but I’ll come back later? I’ll help patch you up.” Rolan looked at him with a bit of shock, before Sekh turned his attention to Lae’zel. “Lae’zel, would you mind… helping with the body.”

She sheathed her sword, utterly grinning. “Giving me the fun task? I do rather like you.” He rolled his eyes, dropped Rolan’s hand, as Aylin left through the portal. Gale pressed a hand to Sekh’s back, offered to get him back to the Elfsong in a blink, and Sekh nodded. He looked back at Rolan- and the tiefling gave him a little smile.

It was the last thing he saw before Gale snatched him away.

*

Astarion’s armor had stopped the majority of the piercing from the arrows, and he was patched up fairly quickly, much to Sekh’s relief. While Isobel and Shadowheart worked on Aylin, Sekh sequestered Astarion away to their corner bed, wrapping the shirtless vampire up in his arms and offering a wrist. He’d need blood if he wanted to heal quickly.

Astarion’s back was to Sekh’s chest, his tongue pushing at the wound on his wrist as he drank slowly. Sekh was content to sit in silence with him, his body happy for a soft bed- he had plenty of bruises under his once again torn robes.

The vampire had given him an earful on how battered his clothing was again, while Isobel had worked on him. It was comical. A part of Sekh was almost eager to see him stitching it back together. There was a… domesticity to it.

He felt Astarion’s lips leave his wrist and rested his chin atop his head. “Done already?”

“I can’t drain you, my sweet,” he said, before dragging his tongue over the wounds again. Sekh let his hand fall to Astarion’s lap, where the vampire idly took it, laced their fingers together, gave it a squeeze. It was still strange, to not feel the press of either ring, against his hand.

Sekh had meant it, when he told Astarion he’d just get him a prettier one. Someday. When the world wasn’t ending, and they could think about such things.

They sat in silence for a moment, content, before Astarion asked rather softly, “Do you think your little wizard is alright?”

Sekh smiled. “Going soft on me and worrying about him?” Astarion scoffed, but he didn’t respond. Sekh didn’t need him to. “Once you’re settled I’ll go back and see him- make sure he’s alright.” Astarion fidgeted out of Sekh’s hold then, turning to face him- eyes rather serious.

“Not without me.” Sekh arched a brow in silent question, and Astarion cleared his throat, glanced away. “I mean- it wouldn’t do to leave you all alone with him- you’ll simply make a fool of yourself with your flirtatious attempts again.”

The drow laughed, tipping his head back slightly. “Whatever you have to say to make yourself feel better, Starshine.” He reached for Astarion’s cheek, caressed it softly, watched those eyelids flutter. “I wouldn’t… Astarion, I love you, and I want you to know I wouldn’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. You have me. You have all of me.”

There was a waver, to those pretty ruby eyes- one that the vampire didn’t try to hide. He turned his head, pressed a kiss to Sekh’s palm. “Darling, if you want a little taste of the tiefling, I will never say no. I… believe you, when you say you love me.” Another nervous clearing of his throat. “Which is a novel concept, but one I’m trying to embrace.” His hand reached for Sekh’s thigh, squeezed it gently, reassuring. “I’ve lived too long to ever think one can have every need or desire met by one person. And that’s not a bad thing.”

Sekh’s fingers played along his cheek, as Astarion moved to kiss the fresh puncture wounds on his wrist. “If I ask you a question, will you answer me honestly?”

Those eyes rose to Sekh’s, held his stare. “Shockingly, yes.”

He could have almost laughed. “Do you want him?”

Sekh felt almost ridiculous asking- there was no way he had imagined the tension, between the three of them- yet he needed Astarion’s confirmation. Because he almost didn’t want to experience anything without him- he’d rather just enjoy the fantasy, if Astarion didn’t feel the strange magnetic pull as well.

The vampire licked his lips. When he spoke it was low, voice pulling directly from the core of his chest. “Yes.” There was a long pause, as if he was digesting his own answer. With a smile he added, “Oh, it is rather fun to admit.”

Sekh chuckled, leaned in and pressed an affectionate kiss to Astarion’s lips. There was enough joy in seeing the vampire express desire he could embrace at his own levels of comfort that it could drown out the sudden race of his heart at the prospect that they both wanted their little wizard.

*

It was dark, by the time they made it back to Sorcerous Sundries. Lae’zel had returned just as the sun was setting to the Elfsong, declaring that Lorroakan was well taken care of. Sekh didn’t ask what that meant about his body- was just glad that Lae’zel seemed pleased with a job well done.

Rolan looked about the same, as he had when Sekh had left him after the battle. He had hoped the tiefling would have cleaned himself up a bit- taken care of the cuts on his face, and whatever other aches might be lurking, beneath his robes.

“Gods preserve me,” Sekh muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Next to him, Astarion chuckled, quite obviously enjoying his lover’s frustration. Sekh would have elbowed him, but he was afraid of aggravating the bandaged wounds, around his torso.

“I was a bit distracted,” Rolan offered, leaning back against the central desk of Sorcerous Sundries. It was eerily quiet, within, now that the shop was closed. “What with dealing with Lorroakan’s… body. And then gathering up Cal and Lia.”

“You mean they let you prance around all bruised up?” Sekh folded his arms, brow furrowed, and Rolan rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing away.

“Well… not willingly, but… there’s paperwork-”

“Oh bloody hells,” Astarion broke in, chuckling, “you’re going to set Sekh to convulsions. Come now, let’s get you cleaned up. I gave him enough of a scare for the day.”

“You certainly did,” Sekh muttered, taking Astarion’s hand and following a resigned Rolan, into the depths of the building. They took a portal that led to living quarters, a large foyer that seemed-

Well, rather cold and unwelcoming. Nothing but books stacked on shelves, windows wide open that would let in the sunlight- but now left the room dark.

“The wizard was very… poor with his interior design,” Astarion mused, as they exited the foyer, Rolan taking them into a hallway that was bland. He paused at a door, twisting the handle and pushing the door open.

“I don’t believe he cared much for… homeliness.” Rolan stepped inside, and Sekh and Astarion followed. Rolan’s room was small but well kept- he had a bed pushed against one wall, a desk against another, which was stacked high with books. An additional stack was on the floor, all heavily bookmarked.

Rolan walked over to a small armoire, opening it and pulling out a little basket.

“Lia put this together the first time she saw what Lorroakan had done,” he offered, turning around and holding it close to his chest. He looked embarrassed. “I thought she was going to storm right in and kill him herself.”

Sekh wished she had. He stepped closer, took the basket- full of medical supplies, and gestured towards the desk. Rolan moved to sit in the chair, as Astarion busied himself pacing the room, pretending to be interested in anything else other than the other two men in the room.

He didn’t fool Sekh.

The drow set the basket down, pawing through it, examining the various bottles and jars in it. Lia had done a damn good job putting it together, he had to admit. Bless her.

Sekh popped open a bottle, picking up a cloth and dabbing the liquid on it. “This is going to sting,” he said, free hand reaching for Rolan’s chin, tipping it up slightly. The tiefling just looked at him, and Sekh felt his pulse pick up, a tick.

He caught, from the corner of his eyes, Astarion glance at him, little smile on his face.

Ignoring him, Sekh dabbed the cloth at a cut on Rolan’s cheek. The tiefling winced, and without thought Sekh hushed him, a soft shh, shh that had Rolan’s eyes going a little wide.

He heard the floor creak, as Astarion moved over to them- and he knew he was making noise for their benefit. The vampire stood behind Rolan, idly fidgeting with his hair, beginning to pull what remained tied back free. Rolan’s eyes darted, wanting to look back at him, as Sekh moved to another cut, along his jaw.

“I thought a distraction might be in order,” Astarion murmured, tangling Rolan’s hair around his fingers. He tsked. “What is with both of you and tying up such pretty hair?”

“I can’t have it in my face all the time,” Sekh retorted, not looking at Astarion. He was examining a bruise along Rolan’s neck, tipping the tiefling’s face to the side with ease. “I could chop it off instead-”

“Do not even jest.” Sekh glanced up then, gave Astarion a huge grin, and watched the way the vampire smiled back, the light from it reaching his eyes. “I would go into mourning. I’d weep for days.”

The drow shook his head, turned his attention back to Rolan. He had a cut near his lip, and without much thought Sekh moved his thumb, rubbed it along his lower lip, then over the healing cut. He felt Rolan shiver, before the man’s lips parted, a little noise escaping him that had Sekh’s heart pounding up into his throat. The moment he made it, Rolan flushed, so deep he was redder than Sekh had ever seen, as he averted his eyes quickly.

And behind him, Astarion gave a toothy smile. Sekh glanced at him, realized the vampire had his fingers trailing along one of Rolan’s horns softly. “Apologies,” he said, “I thought you might like it. I do believe Sekh touched you here once before, when I … feeding.”

The sheer memory of that little moment had Sekh’s belly twisting. It had been… intimate, in ways he hadn’t expected. As if the three of them had connected, nerves and synopsis melding, becoming a single being.

“It’s… it’s alright,” Rolan managed. He cleared his throat, and Sekh forced himself to focus, cleaned the last cut up by Rolan’s brow.

There wasn’t much he could do about the bruises, unfortunately. There was an ointment in the basket, Sekh recognized the list of herbs in it- it would help with pain, but he knew it wasn’t the most pleasant on the face.

“Where else are you bruised?” Sekh asked, as Astarion continued to stroke his fingertips along one of Rolan’s horns, looking quite pleased with himself. Rolan tried to tell Sekh not to bother, but the drow frowned, before stepping back, placing his hands firmly on his hips. “Rolan.”

There was a flicker, in those fiery eyes, over just saying his name. Sekh tried to ignore it, but Astarion hummed a little approval- and he wondered, had Rolan’s pulse spiked? Could Astarion hear it?

“I’m fine. Really.” Rolan moved to stand up then, dislodging Astarion from his horns. Before Sekh could speak, Astarion stepped around the chair, putting himself between Rolan and Sekh.

“I highly doubt that,” the vampire said, “now, play nice and let Sekh take care of you. I promise you’ll… enjoy it.” He held the tiefling’s stare for a moment, before Rolan’s shoulders sagged slightly.

“Fine. My… torso is rather battered.”

“Great. Off with the robe then, darling.” Astarion twirled his finger, and Rolan hesitated a moment, before he listened. He shed the robe, settling it on the back of his chair, leaving him bare chested, his pants settled slightly low on his hips.

Sekh forced himself not to stare- it was hard, oh it was hard- and turned back to the little medical basket, opening the jar and scooping a bit of the balm onto his fingers. “This is cold,” he warned, as he pressed his fingers to Rolan’s chest, along a large bruise that wrapped from his shoulder to his pectoral. The tiefling shivered, and gods Sekh could feel it, beneath his finger tips.

He rubbed the balm in, found Rolan’s higher body heat warmed it quickly. His fingers drifted from the bruise, down to his ribs, trailed over bumps and ridges that were tantalizing.

“Thank the gods this isn’t Jaheira’s recipe,” Astarion remarked, lifting the jar up. “Smells rather… floral.” Leagues better than that awful dirt smell that made made Sekh’s head hurt.

The drow managed a nod, reaching his fingers back into the jar for more, moving them to the next bruise. Without much thought his free hand went to Rolan’s waist, caressed gently- and the tiefling’s eyelids fluttered. Behind him, his tail swished rather forcefully.

Sekh was so close that he could smell Rolan’s sweat, his skin, beneath the balm. It was fiery, spiced in a way that made him want to clench his thighs together. And the way Rolan was watching him-

The tiefling hissed suddenly, going tense, and Sekh realized Astarion had placed a hand to his bare chest, splayed those icy fingers. “You are quite warm,” he mused, dragging the hand down his chest slowly, to the hollow of his ribs. “Am I too cold for you?”

“I- well…” Rolan took a breath, and gods, it was there again, this magnetic tension building in Sekh, spilling out between them all. “No.”

Astarion hummed. “Good. Good.” He pulled his hand away, waving Sekh off when the drow went for the jar again. “Darling he is quite cared for now I think. Do you need him… slippery?”

Sekh flushed, and Rolan turned his gaze up to the ceiling. Astarion snorted a laugh, quite pleased with himself over flustering them both.

“So tell us, what do you plan to do now with this rather… imposing tower?” Astarion capped the jar and set it in the basket, busying himself by taking it back to Rolan’s armoire. “Should we be hailing you as its new master?”

That had Sekh smiling. “All hail Rolan, master of Ramazith’s tower.”

And oh, that smug smile was back on Rolan’s face- but bigger, genuine. He chuckled. “I do like that sound of that. I do indeed.” He paused, added, “Cal and Lia might find it a bit pompous, though. Lorroakan wouldn’t let them stay here- moving them in was one of the best feelings.”

Sekh could only imagine.

“But,” Rolan added, “I wouldn’t have this- I wouldn’t have my family, without you. Either of you. What can I…” he paused, licked his lips, his eyes looking a bit darker, “What can I ever do to thank you?”

Astarion was back at Sekh’s side, quite ready with a retort, but Sekh broken in- “we could use some help saving the city- possibly all of the realms.”

The vampire scoffed, a breathed darling really? As Rolan chuckled. “And you’ll have it. I will learn everything about this tower, even if I have to tear it apart book by book. I’ll be right at your side.”

Sekh smiled then, folded his arms, felt Astarion’s hand going to his back. “And there’s one other thing.” Rolan looked at him expectantly, and Sekh’s smile turned to full affection. “Get some rest.”

Rolan hummed, a little laugh building. “I suppose I can arrange that. It has been a rather long day.” He shifted a bit, the cockiness beginning to fall away, “I know it’s… rather late. If you two want you could, well…” he swallowed. “You could stay.”

It was an interesting invitation- because Sekh knew it wasn’t that late. And that he and Astarion could easily make it back to the Elfsong. That they needed less time for rest.

Sekh glanced at Astarion, but the vampire was already sliding right up to Rolan, taking an arm in his own and leaning into his heat. “If you want our company,” he mused, “just ask, darling.”

And oh, there was that blush again. Rolan cleared his throat. “I… I would like that,” he admitted, “although my room is rather… small.”

“Not interested in crawling into the old master’s bed yet?” Astarion asked, before he grimaced a little. “Actually, don’t answer that. I imagine that man to have some rather… messy books lying about in his bed. No way another living creature would have crawled into bed with him.”

And Rolan was redder. “Astarion,” Sekh said, even as he laughed. The vampire just shrugged, not yet releasing Rolan’s arm. Sekh rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so wide his cheeks ached. “If you want our company, you have it,” he said, looking back to Rolan. “I think we’re all rather exhausted after today- sleeping arrangements shouldn’t bother us much.”

And, yes, fitting three grown adults into Rolan’s bed meant for one was a bit bothersome, but it was more so delightfully entertaining. Especially when Astarion began to undress without a care- until he was down to his shirt and underwear, looking at Sekh and Rolan as if they were mad to think he’d sleep fully dressed.

Sekh gave in then, sitting on the bed and tossing his shirt away. Rolan watched, inclined his head slightly, took a moment to study the scars along his chest, eyes dragging along the one that ran down his ribs- and then a look of realization on his face, and gods if he continued to blush he was going to be redder than a true devil before the night was out.

They ended with Sekh’s back pressed to the wall, the drow on his side, an arm tight around Rolan’s waist, the teifling’s back to his chest. Astarion was all too pleased to curl himself into Rolan’s chest, shuddering with delight over the heat, his hand finding his waist as well, rubbing Sekh’s arm there. It was… peaceful, even if cramped, even if new.

But it felt right, to be locked together, like this.

*

Sekh tranced easier than he expected, and came to from memories of being a child, exploring the Underdark in an almost carefree way with Syl, shortly after he’d met her. Before the pact, before the deaths.

He sighed, eyes fluttering open, arm instinctively tightening around the body pressed to him. But instead of Astarion’s refreshing coolness, he was met with heat that exceeded his own, a burning warmth that made him drowsy. Rolan was solid in his arms, larger than Astarion- and for a brief moment, Sekh wondered if he hadn’t roused yet, if his mind was crafting this to torment him.

But the day- and night- before flooded his memories, told him this was real. He smiled to himself, pressed his face into Rolan’s shoulder, sighing. Content.

As he did, he felt something tightening, around his leg. He glanced down, and realized in the night Rolan’s tail had coiled around his leg, was grasping him in a loose, sleepy fashion.

His smile grew so much it hurt. He felt giddy, suddenly. So giddy he must have squirmed about, because he felt Rolan stirring in his arms- and then finally, Astarion’s cool touch, as his hand slid along the arm he had slung over Rolan’s waist.

A familiar, drowsy grunt, and then Astarion’s waking voice- “I’m not quite ready for morning yet.” He heard Astarion shifting- assumed the vampire was nestling in closer to Rolan’s chest, soaking in all that delicious heat. He gave a little groan of approval, and Sekh knew he was right.

Rolan lifted his head- which Astarion’s grunt showed he did not approve of- and craned his neck, trying to get a look at Sekh behind him. His eyes were a bit drowsy- but he looked slightly awestruck, dream-like.

Did he think this wasn’t real?

Hadn’t they been careening to this point since Last Light?

“Good morning,” Sekh offered, pushing himself up so he was propped on his hip. Rolan rolled slightly more onto his back- and as he did so, Astarion simply moved with him, sprawling along his chest. Rolan glanced down at him, and Sekh chuckled. “Now that he knows you’re a living furnace, I hope you’re ready to never have a moment alone again.”

Rolan lifted his hand, hesitated- but when Sekh nodded, he let it rest on Astarion’s head, dared to toy with some of his soft, wild curls. The vampire purred, sliding along Rolan, a bare leg draping up over his legs. As he pet, his tail squeezed Sekh’s leg again, left the drow biting back a laugh.

“Rolan,” he said softly, drawing the tiefling’s attention back to him. “You’re tail.” Rolan looked confused, before Sekh felt the tip swishing- and oh, the color that flooded Rolan’s face at the realization. “I like it,” Sekh said quickly, afraid Rolan would let go of him, “it’s cute.”

Rolan clicked his tongue. “I’m many things- but cute? I don’t believe that is one.”

Astarion laughed, that whimsical high pitched sound that shook from his very soul. He pushed himself up then, loomed over Rolan, staring down at him with burning eyes. “You are quite cute,” he retorted, “dare I say even adorable.”

Rolan stared up at him, and Sekh understood the look of awe. He’d had it himself, countless times, looking up at Astarion with tussled, soft curls, that easy smile- the feeling that something close to the divine, something impossible was looking at you like you mattered.

He found he was incredibly pleased to have someone else experience it- no, not just someone else. Specifically Rolan- he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about just anyone else seeing the wonder that was Astarion, carefree and himself, in the morning.

One of Astarion’s hands found Rolan’s cheek, the back of his knuckles dragging along it gently. “I’m going to kiss you, little wizard,” he said, softly, “so if this isn’t… agreeable to you, tell me now.”

Rolan’s lips parted, a little breath- that tail that Sekh was slowly falling head over heels for squeezing his leg again. When Rolan didn’t speak, couldn’t speak, Astarion leaned down, pressed his chilled lips to Rolan’s warm mouth. Sekh watched Rolan’s eyelids flutter, watched as his hand reached for Astarion, cupped the back of his head gently. He knew the pressing and gentle movements of Astarion’s mouth, knew that the tip of his tongue would flick to Rolan’s lips-

And gods, he could see Rolan’s mouth open, by the movement of his jaw. Heard the groan the tiefling gave, as Astarion explored him lazily, the vampire casually grinding into his leg. Sekh reached out, grasped at Astarion’s hip, dared to pull him harder to Rolan, heard the vampire chuckle into Rolan’s mouth.

He could see the outline of Astarion’s cock, through his underwear. Knew Rolan had to feel it. His eager need when he was given even a moment of affection in the morning. It drove Sekh mad with sheer delight.

Astarion pulled from Rolan’s mouth, the tiefling gasping for a desperate breath. The vampire smiled over it, turned his head to look at Sekh. He held his stare for only a moment, before he reached for him, tangled his hand in Sekh’s free hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was nothing but sheer affection, a sweetness that could make Sekh dizzy. Astarion was smiling into it- and though it was brief, it felt timeless. “Now, darling,” Astarion whispered, pulling away and settling back, “if you don’t kiss Rolan right now, I think I am going to lose my mind.”

Rolan made a desperate noise at that, and Sekh moved quickly, bowing over him, finding his mouth. He felt almost mad, when he finally kissed him, an explosion of tension bursting inside his very being. Rolan surged against his mouth, seeming to recover from the stupor a kiss from Astarion could put one in, his hand finding Sekh’s waist, squeezing the bare skin. Sekh groaned, dragged his tongue along Rolan’s lips, pushed inside and teased all of those sharp teeth.

Rolan opened his mouth more for Sekh, head tipping back, giving him better access. As he did, Sekh heard the sound of lips on skin- Astarion, peppering Rolan’s collarbone and chest with little kisses. Sekh pinched his lower lip between his teeth, just as Astarion’s tongue dragged over one of Rolan’s nipples- the tiefling gasping, hips bucking.

Sekh released his lip, grinned. “Can I touch you, Rolan?” he asked, his own body buzzing with the sort of need that had his nerves screaming. 

Rolan gave a desperate, wanton whimper- before he seemed to come back to himself, flushing and clearing his throat. “If… if you want to,” he managed, and Sekh giggled, shaking his head once.

Oh this man was precious.

Sekh slid down his body- sad that Rolan’s tail finally uncoiled from his leg- but paused at the tiefling’s chest, when Astarion looked up at him. He stole a desperate, messy kiss from the vampire, as his hand reached for Rolan’s pants, began undoing them.

“Be good to him,” Astarion said softly, a glint in his eyes that was all trouble and promise.

Oh, Sekh fully planned to be.

Astarion moved his attention to Rolan’s neck, lavishing it with kisses, his hand finding the tiefling’s pectoral and squeezing, before teasing his now overly sensitive nipple. Once his pants were undone, Sekh slid his hand in, felt Rolan’s cock straining against his underwear, fucking hard as steel and leaking precum into the fabric.

He felt dizzy, so dizzy and needy and hungry.

Rolan bucked his hips, bit at his lip as Sekh gave him a squeeze, before the drow freed him entirely from his clothing, pulled his cock into the open air of the room.

Rolan shivered, and Sekh let himself stare, for a moment. Rolan’s cock was decorated with ridges just like his body, thicker than Sekh had expected, with one textured ridge along the underside that was perfectly bumped, like the skin along his collarbone, over his shoulders.

Sekh squeezed his legs together, wanted to whine, wanted to feel Rolan pushing into him, feel the way all those textures could make his body scream. Another time, when the world wasn’t ending, when the threat of turning into a Mindflayer wasn’t imminent.

He gave him a slow stroke, watched as more precum beaded up at the head. Without even thinking, Sekh murmured, “your cock is so pretty,” and he heard Rolan gasp, whine, glanced up to see one of his hands covering his face.

“Don’t- don’t say that,” Rolan managed, as Astarion glanced down, took in Rolan’s cock himself.

Gods below, he licked his lips. “Why not?” he asked, moving to Rolan’s ear, breathing into it just loud enough that Sekh could hear, “it is.” Rolan arched as Sekh stroked him slowly, hand falling from his face as he began to pant.

Sekh glanced away, heard not even a moment later the wet, needy sounds of Astarion kissing Rolan, and bowed his head over the tiefling, pushed some of his hair behind his ear as he exhaled against his cock.

And, without any additional warning, took half of him into his mouth.

Rolan’s hips bucked, a desperate sound escaping his kiss with Astarion, as Sekh huffed a breath through his nose, his body aching. Rolan’s skin had a salty spice to it, something he couldn’t explain, but it made his mind begin to melt. He sucked gently, his hand stroking Rolan’s shaft, felt his cock throb against his tongue, a fresh wave of precum coating his mouth.

He eased lower, tongue rolling along that one long ridge, over each little bump- and he felt a hand in his hair, chilled fingers twisting in the locks, pushing him down slightly. Astarion. Sekh let the vampire guide him, took all of Rolan in, until his cockhead was pushing at his throat, the stretch making his jaw ache.

“Gods below,” Rolan gasped, as Sekh closed his eyes, bobbed his head. He placed a hand on Rolan’s hips, guiding them as they rocked towards his mouth. Astarion’s hand was still in his hair, and he could hear the vampire murmuring to Rolan, but he couldn’t make out the words.

Just the occasional good boy and see how well he takes you. Sekh kept his eyes shut, drowning in the dichotomy of feelings- Astarion’s cool touch, Rolan’s burning skin- Rolan’s needy whimpers, Astarion’s controlled voice.

It was everything, everything, everything.

“I won’t…last,” Rolan breathed out, causing Sekh to open his eyes, glance up his body. Astarion glanced down at that time, met his stare, had a devil smirk to his pretty face.

“We don’t want you to,” he said softly, peppering little kisses along Rolan’s jaw. “I want to see you fall apart- and I know Sekh wants to taste it. You can come for us, can’t you?” Rolan panted, and Sekh squeezed his hip, squirming himself, his tongue pushing at Rolan’s cock as it slid with such ease along his mouth, over and over again.

It was barely a moment later, when Rolan was arching, giving a little cry- body shaking as Sekh’s mouth was flooded. He swallowed around his cock, could feel it sliding past his lips anyway. It felt like years of simple pent up desire finally leaving the tiefling.

“That’s it, like that,” Astarion cooed, nuzzling into Rolan’s neck, grinding his own clothed cock into his hip. “Such a good boy. Give my darling a proper taste.”

Sekh teased with his tongue, sucked gently, until Rolan was relaxing. He kept teasing, even as the tiefling began to squirm, over sensitive now, as he could hear Astarion once again kissing him.

How that vampire did love to kiss and kiss and kiss.

Sekh pulled off then, licking his lips, feeling almost outside himself. His body was screaming for attention, his cunt drenched and aching- and yet, he ignored it completely. There was such a joy in being desperately aroused, that dragging it out until he was utterly mindless was- well, quite fun.

Instead, he moved quickly, grasped Astarion’s hips and turned them, so his ass was resting on the bed. The vampire groaned, hips bucking, missing the friction he had been getting from grinding into Rolan.

With a single movement, Sekh had his underwear tugged down, Astarion’s cock free- and then he was taking him over his tongue, all the way to the back of his throat in a deep movement, just the way Astarion liked it.

Astarion broke from his kiss with Rolan, gasping- the sound ending in a joyous laugh. “Ah- darling-yes.” He tipped his head back, hips rolling to match Sekh’s movements, one arm reaching up above him, draping on the pillows as he stretched out, bared himself.

Glorious, perfect.

Sekh kept his eyes shut, as badly as he wanted to glance up, to stare at Astarion- but he felt something tightening around his waist then- and gods, it was Rolan’s tail again, holding onto him.

It made his chest ache with an affection that was truly infectious.

He felt the tiefling shift, sitting up- and then his hands gathering up Sekh’s hair, holding it back. It was such a small gesture, but so sweet that Sekh almost felt tears sting in the corners of his eyes.

He felt one of Rolan’s hands move from his hair to his back, stroking his spine, soothing. Sekh wanted that hand on his waist, wanted it to grip him tightly-

Could imagine himself on Astarion’s cock, with Rolan holding on, watching with those hungry, hungry eyes- or riding Rolan, the tiefling clinging to him, desperate to not fall off the face of the realms.

Sekh moaned, the sound vibrating around Astarion’s cock. The vampire arched, breaths coming faster. “So good, my sweet, fucking-perfect.” Sekh placed a hand on Astarion’s thigh, squeezed affectionately, heard the vampire swallow thickly. “Do you want me to come in your pretty little mouth, my love?”

Sekh groaned, as Rolan’s breath hitched. His groan was enough of a response for Astarion, who smiled and let his bliss overtake him, cock throbbing as he came for Sekh. Sekh would have smiled himself, if his lips weren’t so perfectly stretched over Astarion’s cock.

Just like with Rolan, he let his tongue lavish Astarion’s cock through his orgasm, the vampire's hips rutting in shallow little thrusts. When the elf stilled, Sekh pulled off, sucked in a desperate breath, heading spinning. For a moment he swore he was seeing spots- white in his vision-

And then hands, hands on his face, Astarion pulling him up, kissing him so lovingly, so wantonly. Astarion, groaning over the taste on Sekh’s tongue- his cum, Rolan’s cum, all mingling into something intoxicating.

“Up, up love,” Astarion said, guiding Sekh up onto his knees. Without hesitation his deft fingers got Sekh’s pants open, pulling them and his underwear halfway down his thighs, exposing his burning cunt to the cool bedroom air.

Sekh panted, hips rocking, as Astarion turned his attention to Rolan- who was staring.

“Help keep him steady,” he said, “I fear his legs might give out. It happens when he’s… this desperate.” Astarion’s fingers moved to Sekh’s cunt, trailed over his lips, and then two slid inside with such ease that Astarion groaned. “Darling, you’re flooded.”

Sekh trembled, heart pounding so hard it threatened to burst through his ribs. Rolan’s tail clutched at his waist tightly, one of the tiefling’s hands now at his hips, helping to hold him. The other found his face, cupped it gently, and gods Rolan kissed him.

Sekh rocked down onto Astarion’s fingers, let Rolan’s tongue sample the taste in his mouth. The tiefling only kissed him harder, seemed to like it just as much as Astarion had.

Astarion’s mouth pressed to his chest, his fingers curling, making Sekh jerk away from the kiss, head dropping back, eyes wide. Every nerve within him was alight, aching and burning and screaming, as Astarion touched the sweetest spot inside him.

“I’ve got you,” Astarion said softly, lovingly. “Does it feel good, Sekh?” Sekh managed a nod, and Astarion turned his attention to Rolan, smirking. “Help me show him bliss.”

The hand on his thigh moved then, towards his cunt. Hesitantly Rolan touched the warm, soft skin, his middle finger finding Sekh’s clit and pressing against the overly hard bud. Sekh mewled, eyes wide, pupils blown, as Rolan touched him slowly. “Like this?” he asked, sounding nervous.

But Astarion hummed, began moving his fingers faster. “Be a bit rougher, he won’t break.”

Rolan pressed harder, and Sekh saw starbursts, his belly tightening up. Gods he was right there already, so close he could feel his orgasm nearly taking hold with each thrust of Astarion’s expert fingers.

And oh, Astarion could feel it. He was grinning, eyes adoring and full of desire as he watched Sekh. “That’s it love, I can feel how badly you want to come.” Another perfect curl at the knuckle, and Sekh was trembling, from his core. “Come on darling- show us both how good you can feel.”

Sekh’s mouth opened, eyes squeezing shut as his body listened, as if Astarion could simply pluck a single nerve inside him and make him come on command. He squeezed at Astarion’s fingers, cunt fluttering around him as his muscles spasmed, the knot in his belly bursting. He nearly yelled- would have, if Rolan hadn’t caught his lips in a desperate kiss, swallowing down the noise.

And all the while, he could hear Astarion murmuring, “that’s it, that’s my darling boy.”

Sekh felt his muscles growing loose, liquid like, as the orgasm ebbed. Rolan kept him upright, fingers leaving his clit to hold onto him. Astarion seemed less willing to leave his body- dared a few more delicious curls of his fingers, sending sparks up along Sekh’s spine, before pulling them free.

Sekh opened his eyes, just to catch Astarion popping both into his mouth, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes that told Sekh the moment night fell, he was going to take a proper taste.

The drow swallowed thickly, turned his attention to Rolan, who had moved back from the kiss just enough to be seen.

Eyes unbelieving, looking at Sekh like at any moment he was going to dissipate into the air. Like this couldn’t be real- that it couldn’t have finally happened.

Astarion leaned in, rested his chin on Rolan’s shoulder, arms going around his waist, hands trailing dangerously low- until one grasped at the tiefling’s already half hard cock, giving it a playful squeeze. “Ooh, look at you, nearly ready to go again.”

Sekh choked on a laugh, reaching down for his own clothing and pulling them back up over the swell of his ass, the curve of his hips. He didn’t bother closing them. “Astarion, I think you’ll kill him.”

The vampire pouted, but relented- instead very gently tucked Rolan back into his clothing, placing a rather affectionate kiss to his shoulder. Sekh pressed one to Rolan’s cheek as well, felt the heat of his flush. He wanted to kiss him again, to steal a few more moments of the morning-

But of course, fate couldn’t allow that. Sekh heard footsteps right outside Rolan’s door, just as a voice was saying, “Rolan, are you up? Lia wants breakfast and I might need you to help me find the kitchen.”

The door opened, and Cal filled the doorway, the words dying in a little choke as he caught sight of his brother, sandwiched so perfectly between Sekh and Astarion. Sekh glanced over his shoulder, gave Cal a grin because it was so good to see him- and the other tiefling burst into a beaming smile.

“Finally!” He yelled, before he turned, rushing off, yelling, “Lia- Lia- it finally happened!”

Rolan groaned, pulling himself from Sekh and Astarion and climbing out of the bed, quickly rushing after his brother, yelling for him to just wait a damn minute. Sekh and Astarion looked at each other, before they burst into laughter, the sort that twisted their bellies and made their chests ache.

It felt good.

“I feel like I should go rescue him,” Sekh offered, as Astarion finally adjusted his own clothing- his most intimate parts having been conveniently blocked by Rolan’s frame from Cal.

“Which one?” he asked, and Sekh just shrugged. He wasn’t sure, honestly. Astarion kept his smile, reached for him and took Sekh’s hand, forcing him to shuffle closer. “Go rescue our little wizard,” he agreed, and Sekh’s smile grew.

“Our,” he said, and Astarion just looked at him. “You said our. Usually you leave him all to me.”

Astarion pinched his lips together, cleared his throat. “Well, after… I mean, after this…I…” He sighed, and Sekh just placed a kiss to his temple.

“I’m teasing you, Starshine. What is mine is yours, now and forever.” A kiss to his cheek then. “Get dressed and come with me- we’ll have to get back to the Elfsong anyway.”

Astarion sighed. “Of course, can’t forget that we have tadpoles in our heads and that the realms are under threat by a trio of gods and a rampant, unruly Elder Brain. Why couldn’t we just have a nice calm morning for once? What happened to staying in bed and fucking half the day away?”

Sekh snorted, climbing from the bed, grabbing Astarion’s pants, discarded the night before, and tossing them to him. “We can do that once we’re done playing hero.”

The vampire huffed. “Darling, with you, I have a feeling we’ll never be done.”

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #rolan #astarion ancunin #sekh'met #sekstarion #bg3 tav #tavstarion #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #rolan x tav #rolan/tav #eternally yours

[random-writing-panda]

||•~Old Flames Part 3~•||

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x reader  

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, harassment

Word count: 2.1k

Part 1, Part 2

It’s here part 3! I’ve been so busy with work this week I am absolutely exhausted! I'm so sorry for the wait on this one! I am trying to train myself to find writing a relaxing/de-stress task but I’m not quite there yet so its still taking a bit to get motivated to write. Thank you all so so much for the support and love I’m so excited and happy that people are enjoying my writing. Thank you to all the people who asked to be tagged!

====================================

After your argument with Red Hood you start avoiding Jason like the plague and during this time you get closer with the mysterious stranger at work. Will Jason try to win you back or lose you forever?

====================================

You had been miserable the last week. You were second guessing every decision you had made, had you over reacted? Maybe he would have told you eventually? No, he should have told you as soon as he found you. You couldn’t back down now. If he wanted you in his life he could come back on his hands and knees with some answers, any answers really.

The turmoil inside you was showing on your body in very noticeable ways, dark circles framed your eyes from restless nights, you hadn’t been eating well and your skin looked dull. You truly couldn’t care less about what you looked like you were trying to stay calm over the fact that you had just sent your best friend away, potentially forever, because of a moment of anger, you had to keep reminding yourself you deserved better than his lies, it didn’t make it any easier.

Work was surprisingly the only thing getting you through, at least here you could keep busy, chit chat with the old ladies that came in for their tea and coffee, you could ignore the stabbing feeling in your heart for the hours you were running around the store.

“Well, you look just about as crappy as I feel.” You look up from the benchtop you were wiping down and saw the handsome man from a few weeks ago, you recognised the same gorgeous green eyes, he was right, they looked as tired as yours did.

 “Having a rough week?” You let out a small chuckle at his exasperated sigh.

“You have no idea.” He stepped up to the bench leaning against it with his hip.

“Same as last time?”

This made him smile and there was a glint of mischief in his tired eyes, “You remember my order? Already?” He nods, confirmation of his order.

“You are a memorable person.” You shrugged and started brewing his coffee. “You know you still haven’t given me your name, I feel like I’m at a disadvantage!” you teased as your hand moved over your name tag.

“I don’t need that to remember your name darling, you’re quite memorable yourself. Plus, no Name just adds to my mysterious charm don’t you think?”

“Cute.” You look at him with one eyebrow raised. “But a name would be helpful, what am I supposed to put on the cup?” you joke with him almost effortlessly it felt like talking with an old friend it felt natural. It felt right.

“Fine if you need a name so bad,” he smirks, “its Ronaldo Fitzgerald”.

You roll your eyes and turn the cup to him, “Don’t know if that will fit on the cup.”

“mm” He hums in agreement nodding his head, “Well if you want a different name, you could go on a date with me some time.”

Your eyebrows raise and your lip’s part slightly, suddenly your mouth feels a little dry. You ponder his request for a moment, he was attractive enough, from the interactions you’ve had you seemed to get along pretty well. But it was still Gotham, you had to be careful. “Well, my shift finishes in a few minutes, if you stick around we can have some drinks and a little food?” you looked over to the wall, it truly had been great timing, five minutes left.

He smiled, a genuine smile, not a half smile, not his smirk, just a smile. “That sounds perfect darling, I’ll go take a seat.”

He walked over to a table while you had a quick chat with your coworker who was taking over. You quickly pack your belongings into your bag and make your way over to the table.

“I believe you owe me a name Mr..?”

“Oh, but does this count as a date?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is more like two friends having afternoon tea, not really romantic.”

“Is this you asking for a second date? Already? Better be careful, might start thinking you like me.” You laugh a little as your coworker places your favourite drink down on the table and you nod and thank them.

“of course, I like you.”

That took you by shock. “Why? You don’t even know me yet.”

“Well, I like what I’ve seen so far, and I’m sure I will like everything else.” There was such sincerity in his eyes it made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“You said that I look as bad as you feel, what’s happening in your life Mr mysterious?”

He leant back in the chair his arms up resting his head back into his knotted hands. “I kinda did something stupid and really upset a friend of mine…” his tone had an amused cadence to it but his physicality showed something closer to embarrassment, his relaxed posture turning ridged and a slight blush creeping onto his face, his eyes were glued to the ground.

“How badly did you fuck up?” you were curious, intrigued by how similar your situations had turned out to be, sipping your drink you watch him lift his head and press his lips together as they formed a thin line, and he almost pouted at you, he looked like a child being scolded.

“Pretty bad…I think I might have ruined our friendship.” He looked back down to the floor, and you watch him sigh deeply, “It was so stupid too I don’t know why I didn’t just talk to them…”

“Well how long have you been friends?”

“Ah-…that’s…also complicated.” He grimaced.

“You seem like a very complicated man.” A small chuckle escapes you.

“You have no idea. Anyhow, we were friends, honestly more like family since we were little kids but when I got a bit older things got…”

“Complicated?”

You see his body jerk a little and hear a quick exhale as he tried not to laugh. “Yeah, we ended up getting closer again but then I did this stupid thing and I think I lost them…”

“Well, I don’t know what you did but if I were the friend id just want you to apologise and explain the situation.” Were you projecting? Maybe? Was it still good advice? You hoped so.

He ran his finger across the back of his neck and rubbed at it sheepishly. “Yeah, I just haven’t had the guts to face them yet, they were always pretty scary.”

This made you laugh; a full-blown belly laugh that shook your entire body, the man in front of you looked like a body builder, was six feet tall, and was decked out in a leather jacket, everything about him screamed intimidating but here he sat scared to face his friend. You felt a little bad laughing at his expense, but it was all too adorable not too. After a few moments you hear his light chuckles.

“Yeah, I suppose it sounds a little silly.”

“No, no I’m sorry, it’s just, you,” You waved your hands in front of you gesturing at his entire body. “Being scared of someone is hard to imagine. In all seriousness though you should just go talk to them, the longer you wait the worse it will be.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. Ill talk to them.” He looked at you with those eyes, those gorgeous eyes that reminded you of some lost fondness like remembering a childhood pet, and they were filled with determination.

The two of you spent the better part of an hour chatting before exchanging numbers and parting ways, you were so glad you accepted his offer it was the best date you had been on in a long time. As you looked down at your phone now holding his contact information you realised, he still hadn’t given you his name.

∞∞

After listening about how you mystery man was going to fix his issues with his friend you felt a heaviness overcome you, there were so many emotions mixed inside you, you felt as though you could drown in them, you were angry that he was going to fix his situation but Jason couldn’t come fix yours, you felt so much guilt about being angry but more than anything you were still just sad, you missed Jason perhaps more than when you thought he was dead.

You had to do something to distract yourself, so you made your way to your favourite bar. You are about five drinks in when the bartender pipes up starting to chat with you.

“Anymore and you might drown.” He teased.

“Thatss the point!” you hadn’t realised how tipsy you were getting but your slurred words gave you some clarity, part of you knew you should stop, leave and go back to home to sleep off the emotions but the other part of you won, the part that was filled with emotions and tears and Jason, the part of you that you wanted to drown out.

“Drinking your problems won’t fix em’”.

“No but it’ll make me forget them!” you happily chirped as you took another drink.

The bartender sighed and walked away. You sat at the bar and continued nursing drinks for a few hours and as you walked out of the bar you cursed yourself out, it was hard for you to walk straight and it felt like the sidewalk was spinning like a carousel, you placed a palm on the building next to you and dragged you hand over the cool bricks and cement trying to steady yourself.

You only make it a few blocks when you hear whistles and footsteps, a group of men cross the street, their eyes set on you, you beg your brain to move your feet faster and they do but in your intoxicated state you end up stumbling over your own feet.

“Hey sweetheart what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out so late?” one of the men shout from behind you and you can hear the others snickering.

You push yourself off the wall and start walking again, the throbbing in your temples was not helping you see straight.

“Hey! it’s not nice to ignore people little lady!” one of the men grabs you shoulder spinning you around to face them.

“I’m..jusst trying to go…home..” you stutter out and try to pull away.

“Why go home when you can have some fun with us darling?” the look on his face was downright malicious.

“Don’t call me that! jusst want to go home…please leave.” You were scared now the throbbing had turned to pounding now and there was so much pressure on your brain you thought your head might explode, this wasn’t safe but there was no way for you to get away from this.

“The lady wants to go home so why don’t you unhand her?” a new voice chimed in, it was one you recognised and as the group of men turned you saw the mystery man from the café, your date.

“How about you keep moving and mind your business, man.” One of the men stepped towards him, ready to, wanting to fight.

“Oh, you really don’t want to do that.” you café date was smirking as he shifted his stance ready to fight.

Before you knew it punches were being thrown and you were tossed to the floor by the man holding you, it didn’t help with the spinning. It was hard for you to focus on the fight all you knew was that the was a lot of cursing and groans, you catch glimpses through you spinning vision and it looks like the group of men were losing, it was incredible, a few were on the floor covered in blood and you watched as your date landed a hit right into one mans jaw, you swear you heard a crunch of broken bones. After an agonising few minutes your date was the last one standing, they had gotten a few hits in, his busted lip and bruises were already prominent as he walked over to you.

“What are you doing here…?” you slurred out as he pulled you up into his arms. “Stalking me…”

“More like saving you.” He softly grabbed you chin and moved you face left and right checking for any injuries. “Did they hurt you?”

You shake your head before you realised how bad of a decision that was the movement sends the world spinning again and you rest your forehead on his chest groaning loudly.

“Okay come on Darling lets get you home, where do you live?” when you didn’t respond he looked down and saw your closed eyes. “Oh god seriously? Fuck, fine come on then.” He groans and pulls you up into his arms as he carries you down the streets one of his arms wrapped around your back and the other tucked under your knees as he pulled you close to his chest.

===================

Tag list:

General tag list~ @jasontoddslover

Old Flames tag list~ @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @princessbl0ss0m @batmanunicorns523

#batfam #batfam imagine #batman #batfam fic #batman fic #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood

[jasntodds]

Caving In [4]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,625

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a nightmare, fluff, hurt/comfort, some paranoia, mention of torture, mention of abuse, Dick tries to kind of have “the talk”, Jason and reader argue (we all know sometimes Jason is an asshole, this is the only time this kind of argument happens btw), mentions of bruising and swelling, a mention of drug addiction, mentions of death

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: I’m really excited to post chapter 7 just so you guys know lol This feels kind of like a filler but this is the only one that feels like it I think?? I might try to post chapter 5 this weekend because of that lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Nightmares are a funny thing. They’re rarely anything realistic once you’re able to be calm enough to think about them. But they always contain some type of fear or traumatic event someone has experienced. Sometimes, it’s not rational or there is some deep hidden meaning behind the nightmare but other times, it’s just from trauma left unhandled. Those nightmares are the worst.

They make you revise the worst times of your life over and over and over like a broken record. No matter what you do, you lose in the nightmare. Years later, you might be happy and healthy but the nightmare comes back and you feel like you’re right back where you were. Trapped in the never-ending agony. Trapped inside a tilt-a-whirl made of panic attacks and broken hearts. And every single night, it’s a living hell.

And that’s where you are now, living your own personal hell with screaming so loud your throat is raw and ragged breaths beg your chest to finally cave in. The flashes of your “foster dad” scar the back of your eyes with every blink, like Freddy Krueger clawing his way to the surface. You might have escaped him physically, but mentally you’re trapped like a bear at a circus. Your hands shake as tears well behind your eyes and as the panic rages through your veins, the anger sets in. And you’re so mad that you’re allowing this piece of shit to haunt you even in your sleep, somewhere you might just feel safe. How are you ever supposed to be safe from him if you can’t even sleep? What if he finds you? What if, somehow, your nightmares are just a sign he’s coming after you? What are you supposed to do then? What if he has powers and that’s why he’s coming to finish you off?

A million what-ifs scramble through your brain as you sit in your bed, the bedside lamp still on. You get out of bed and it’s not even like you’re walking. With every worst-case scenario running through your head at once, you’re just moving through motions to exit your room. You need to make sure he isn’t here, need to make sure everyone here is safe from him, that you’re safe from him.

Your hands go up, right in front of you, slightly outstretched as if waiting for you to run into him. The palms of your hands glow green, ready for any type of attack you might come across in the secure tower while you tiptoe your way out of your room.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice from the right pulls your attention as you were just about to walk down the hallways. You jump and spin quickly, the glow of your hands intensifying in the dim light of the hallway. “It’s me.” Gar defends quickly, putting his hands up. “Gar?” His voice is still groggy but full of fear as he glances between your hands and your face.

You could see him with the dim lights of the hallway and the green glow of your hands but it still didn’t click, not until he said his name. You aren’t sure where your head was but a part of you is scared because of it. You were so lost in a state of fear and urgency to make sure everything was safe, you were blinded. It’s a bit terrifying. 

You lets out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, dropping your hands as the green fades. “Fuck, what’re you doing?” You whisper-yell at him.

Gar takes a few steps towards you. “You were screaming.” He whispers back to you. “I heard you so I came to see if you were okay.”

The walls aren’t thin but Gar is pretty sure your scream could have woken up anyone. It was loud and pained, etched in terror. But, that’s a thing that happens here from time-to-time. Everyone has a habit of occasionally waking up screaming. It’s either childhood trauma haunting them or new trauma from Trigon. Gar figures that’s why no one else got up. They’re conditioned to be used to it.

You watch him carefully as the panic starts to cloud with feelings of regret and guilt. You didn’t realize you had screamed loud enough to wake anyone up. That’s not fair to anyone, to be woken by someone who can’t handle their own shit. And then to be standing out in the middle of a hallway at the crack of dawn with sleep still in their eyes talking about it. You look to the floor, shifting your weight on your feet and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you….okay?” Gar asks, coming a little closer.

When you fell asleep on him earlier, you looked peaceful. Normally, you kind of always have this look of fear. Your eyes always seem a little distant and you look behind whoever you’re talking to a lot. You don’t make eye contact for longer than a few seconds. But while you slept, you looked at ease and peaceful and calm, like you didn’t need to look over your shoulder anymore but then you shot up out of nowhere. Gar knew it had to have been a nightmare. He reacts the same way when he has one, maybe everyone does but he knows the signs. Wide eyes, ragged breathing, distant but sleep-filled eyes. And now, you’re awake again from a nightmare and it doesn’t sit right with the kind boy with green hair.

You nod. “Y-yeah.” You offer a fake smile. “You, uh, you can go back to bed.”

“Are you going to go back to bed?” Gar asks with a pointed look and he doesn’t want you to be alone. The shadows are a bit more haunting when you’re alone.

“Uh….I mean….eventually.” You answer softly, dropping your head slightly.

“I can stay with you until you fall asleep if you want.” Gar shrugs his shoulders, putting his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants.

You raise a brow at him, not looking pleased with the idea. You don’t want to inconvenience him or seem weak. You’re in a tower full of heroes and you can’t even sleep through the night. The last thing you want is for any of them to see you as the weak link. What happens if you can’t pull it together? Will they just drop you because you’re not strong enough?

“It-it’s okay.” You  don’t smile this time, you just keep chewing your lip, pulling your sleeves over your hands, something Gar has been noticing you do.

“What were you doing out here?” Gar asks, his voice kind and not accusing but you shake your head, knowing it sounds ridiculous. “I won’t tell anyone.” He offers and there’s this sweet but subtle smile pulling at his lips.

Jason, a few hours ago, told you to talk to him. He said maybe it would help and the only way he’d know that, is if Gar knows Jason’s baggage, too. Jason doesn’t seem the type to wave the white flag and spill all of his secrets. Maybe Gar just cares about everyone and maybe it will help.

You sigh and cave. “I-I-I was….was just making sure….uh….he wasn’t….here.” You stutter but eventually get everything out and a part of Gar’s heart breaks at hearing it. 

You aren’t looking at him, a sense of shame consuming you and Gar is not about to have you feeling bad for worrying that the person who tortured you is seeking you out in the one place you feel safe. It’s not fair and it’s not right. Gar knows whatever you went through was horrible but the fact you’re so worried that the person is in the tower? It’s unfathomable.

Gar starts walking past you, stopping a few steps ahead of you and offering you his hand. “We’ll look together.”

You look at his hand and then up at him with his words and you can feel your nose getting warm while your eyes burn. Your entire face softens and there’s something about the offer that makes you feel like everything in you is being warmed by a fireplace, warmed by a place one can only describe as home. He didn’t think you were crazy or that it was ridiculous or stupid. He just…offered to help.

So, you put your hand in his, following him through the tower.

As you walk, you hold his hand tightly noticing the soft callouses. His grip is tight but in a comforting type of way and he glances at you every few seconds as if making sure you’re okay. You walk from room to room, turning on the lights and verifying there isn’t anyone around before you end up in the comms room with the supercomputer. Gar takes a seat and shows you that everything is still secure and there hasn’t been a break-in. Everyone still needs their fingerprints to get in and the front door is done by facial recognition. According to the logs, no one has been in or out of the tower since nine the night before.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, standing to the side of Gar with arms crossed and eyes on the large screen in front of you. “I know this was stupid.”

Gar spins in the chair to face you but your eyes don’t move. “It’s okay, ya know? You’re scared and this is a new place. It’s not stupid.”

“It feels like it though, I-i-i….I see him anytime I close my eyes.” Your voice is so small.

You think maybe you should take Jason’s advice fully. Gar is awake with you anyway and you woke him up. He could have gone back to bed but he walked with you instead, knowing full well there wasn’t an intruder in the tower. It’s like you owe him some type of explanation.

“Foster dad.” You clarify. “He’s originally from Gotham, too, ya know? So him being a complete psychopath kind of tracks.” There’s a sharp bitterness in your voice but you keep your stare off of Gar, afraid that if you can see the look on his face you know he’s giving you, you’ll just shut down and go to bed.

“He just…did that to you?” Gar asks with furrowed brows and pain in his voice.

“Yep, he wanted powers. Some weird thing against Batman and Robin so he used me because ya know, the system doesn’t actually give a fuck about most foster kids.” You grit your teeth, your fists balling in your arms. “Then thought I was concealing my powers from him because he was certain his experiments were working so he’d try to literally beat them out of me.” You shrug a shoulder. “Guess he was right.”

Gar pauses, piecing it together. He was sure you would have tried to use your powers, but you didn’t? “Wait so….you never used your powers around him and—“

“Let him beat me until he thought I was dead?” You ask, just glancing at Gar long enough to see him nod. “Yep. If he knew it worked, he’d have killed me anyway. Letting him think he failed was…” You tilt your head side to side slightly. “Vindicating in a way. I, uh, I know it sounds so stupid but I was desperate to try and get out. Desperate people do stupid things."

“I’m so sorry that happened.” Gar’s eyes are glued to you, hating the idea of living through that.

He was tortured before and it haunts him every single day. He wasn’t even tortured for very long and it’s still hell. You were tortured for a lot longer. He gets your hesitance and your paranoia. He’d be paranoid, too if he were you.

“Yeah….” You sigh. “So, I might have escaped physically but the piece of shit really isn’t leaving my dreams alone, I guess.”

Gar sits on it for a few seconds. While he was kind of this weird experiment in a way, Dr. Caulder knew it would work and it would save him. He never had to fear for his life around him. He feared speaking up and being himself because sometimes the doctor wasn’t very nice. He didn’t really like other people being their own people, not if it contradicted what he believed or wanted. So, he can’t even fathom want horrors haunt your mind even in safety.

“I can check the tower for you every night if you want.” Gar offers. You jerk your head in his direction, surprise etched across every crease of your face. “And uh, if you have a nightmare, you can wake me up. I leave my door unlocked anyway…if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Y-y-you’d do that?”

Gar gains a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “Yeah, of course.”

You will never tell Jason, but maybe he was right about telling Gar. You feel a little better about it and he’s so nice. He’s offering to lose sleep when you have a nightmare which could be every night. You wonder how he’s chosen to be so kind despite whatever he’s been through.

“Thank you.” You look to the ground and then finally look at Gar. “Can you not tell anyone? Please?”

He chuckles softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks, it means a lot.” You suck in a breath. “Well, now that I know my delusions are just delusions, I’m gonna try and get some more sleep.” You give him a genuine smile this time.

“I’ll be up if you need anything.” Gar says, turning back to the computer to exit out of the security system.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologize again. “I didn’t mean to keep you from sleeping or anything.”

“It’s okay.” Gar assures you. “I should be getting up early anyway.”

“Okay.” You nod, offering him a closed and small smile.

It’s six now so Gar’s alarm would be going off in an hour anyway. But, you’re still going to go to bed. He didn’t hear you go to bed the night before and it was pretty late when you woke up from the first nightmare.

“What, uh what time did you go to bed anyway?”

“Uh….” You squint an eye, trying to remember the last time you looked at your phone. “Four? I think?”

“Wow, okay.” Gar’s brows raise quickly as he chuckles softly.

“I-I got talking with Jason last night so…” Your words fall off. “Couldn’t sleep and I ran into him.”

Gar nods slowly, ignoring the tint of a burn in his chest. You talked to Jason but not him? He’s been so nice to you and he feels like you trust him. All you do with Jason is this weird banter thing that Gar is slowly realizing maybe it’s flirting. Not that he’s actively trying to pursue anything because that doesn’t feel right either. But something about you talking to Jason, hurts. He’s always deemed himself a trustworthy person who’s a pretty good listener but you went to probably the worst listener on the face of the planet. He doesn’t really get it and he knows he has not right to assume you would tell him anything. Above everything else, he’s just surprised you got talking to Jason.

“What’d ya talk about?” Gar plays it cool, not digging but just asking.

“Uh….nothing really, I guess.” You lie and it’s at that moment you realize you lie a lot. Not that you intend to, it just feels like an instinct now either to protect yourself or other people. “I mean…not nothing.” You correct yourself. “Some of what happened in a very unserious manner.”

Gar nods his head again and you might be a little dense but you’re not so dense that you missed the way he stiffed in his chair. “Did it help?” He asked.

“Well, I, uh, I felt better after but then I had a nightmare so….not sure how much talking about it really helped.” You scoff as you roll your shoulders.

“Is it because it was unserious?” Gar asks, quoting your direct word.

You shake your head. “Nah, always been better with unserious ways of talking about trauma. When it gets too….emotional I don’t….” You look to the floor, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “I don’t like it very much, like it less than I usually do, I suppose.”

“You can talk to me.” Gar offers, looking back over to you.

“I know.” You smile at him softly, it’s almost a smirk that forms. “Can you get a little snarky and nasty about it?”

“Would it help?” Gar chuckles, his position loosening with the question and the burning sensation in his chest starting to dissipate.

“Yeah, you can’t give that look you do. With the big eyes and sad expression, makes me feel weird.” You scrunch the left side of your mouth upwards.

Gar laughs softly, putting his hands up. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks.” You look around the room and then back to him. “I do like talking to you and hanging around you. You make me feel comfortable here.” You admit and then realize you’re saying way too much. “Okay well, that’s enough for today. I’m actually going to bed.” You smile at him and it almost feels like you should hug him or something but that also feels like it might just get awkward so you opt for a small wave as if that wasn’t just as awkward.

“Sleep well.” Gar laughs softly, matching the wave with burning cheeks.

You finally get some much-needed rest, without a nightmare. It wasn't a lot of sleep by any means but it was a lot more than you’ve gotten in a long time and for the first time, you actually feel well-rested. You aren't sure if it's because you talked with Gar about what happened a little bit or if it's because you knew he was awake and wouldn't let anyone in your room if they tried. Or that he helped you look around the tower for Jerry like two crazy people. Maybe it's a combination of everything but you feel a lot better.

You find yourself walking into the kitchen once you’re fully awake, still dressed in pajamas. Your thing has always been you shouldn't need to get properly dressed if you aren't actively doing something or going somewhere. Why bother dirtying clothes?

When you walk into the kitchen, Gar and Jason are sat on the barstools while Dick is making some type of shake, Rachel is just coming in from the opposite hall. The boys look a little sweaty, devouring their food like they haven’t eaten in days. You assume they’d just gotten done with a training session and, apparently, were too hungry to shower first.

"Good morning." Dick chimes, bits of sarcasm in his words given it just being past noon.

You pause, glaring at him. "You're one of those aren't you?"

"What?" Dick chuckles, confusion in his face.

"Thinking the early bird gets the worm or whatever." Your voice is flat and you might be well-rested and it might be the afternoon, but you’re not a morning person.

Dick shrugs. "It's true."

"But the mouse gets the cheese, my guy." You give him a thumbs up, moving to the seat between Jason and Gar and sitting down. Gar gives you this gentle smile while Jason has this proud smirk pulling at his lips. "What?" You look at Dick who looks somewhere between amused and contentment.

Dick is looking at you with a sense of ease and accomplishment. He thought you’d be more...closed off longer. This is a new place, you’re traumatized and hurt. But, you seem comfortable, using sarcasm with him that isn’t hurtful and plopping down right between the boys whose expressions did not go unnoticed by Dick. Dick feels like he might be doing something really good here.

"Nothing." Dick's face settles with amusement. "Settling okay?"

"Mhm." You hum.

"Since she doesn't shut the fuck up, I'm sure she's fine." Jason states, his voice trying to sound menacing.

Gar and you look to Jason with annoyance. "You have not shut up for a single second I have been here and this is day three. You had no complaints last night." You look away, Dick looking between the two of you with his cup held to his mouth. He doesn’t even wanna know.

"You were whining, I wanted you to shut up and it worked." Jason mumbles and  you let out a laugh. What is his issue?

"I don't whine, I complain. There's a difference." You hold your pointer finger up to correct him and Jason cracks a smile, Gar chuckles into his water bottle.

"Same shit." Jason fires back. "You could stop."

You roll your eyes and that's when the idea sparks. Jason isn’t winning this, this is your game to win. "Hey, Dick, question: What's your rule on dating? Ya know in the tower?"

Jason and Gar both stiffen in their seats, you catching it out of the corner of your eyes and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing or break the stare you have with Dick. Gar is choking on his water and Jason's cheeks are turning red while Dick is stuck looking at all three of you wondering how the hell he got here. The last thing Dick wants to do is discuss this. Of course, he knew there was a chance of something going on, but he kind of assumed it would just happen. He didn’t think he’d get dragged into it, not like this at least.

"She's screwing with you." Rachel says from the other side of Gar. You give Dick a wide smirk, Gar and Jason looking a little displeased, Jason more than Gar who almost looks disappointed.

"Of course she is." Dick lets out a breath, his expression unamused. 

"Sorry, you were a necessary casualty in getting Jason to shut up for a few seconds." You hold an apologetic smile.

Jason flirts a lot and in your experience, if you bring up dating out of the blue, it’ll shut someone like Jason up faster than anything because it’s out of left field. He’s caught off guard and it gets his brain going on if there’s something going on. You think it’s funny, you’ve won this bit.

"Well, since you wanted to bring it up..." Dick starts and all four of you suddenly look like you need seatbelts.

"No, not the talk, please." Gar begs with a groan.

Dick grimaces. "No, of course not. I trust you all know about that." Even if you didn’t, Dick isn’t sure he’d be able to give the talk. He’d call Donna and Dawn. They’re the responsible ones.

"Some of us more than others." Jason quips with a smirk.

"Gross." Rachel mutters.

"Dude." Gar looks past you and at Jason, shaking his head at Jason.

"Anyway, uh..." Dick fumbles for words, realizing he never had any intention of this conversation which was his fault given the Titans past of relationship in the tower. "Just make sure everyone is consenting and be safe?"

"You sound so uncertain about that." You raise a brow as your words are slow.

"I don't know how to have this conversation." Dick defends.

"We don't have to." Gar is grimacing in his seat. "We know, safety and consent, got it." It’s not that Gar is a prude, it’s just awkward and he’s not much of a fan of awkward conversations. If it were just him and Dick, it wouldn’t be awkward, but it's everyone.

"Don't bring drama into the training room or while we're out."

"Obviously." Rachel says, already tired of the conversation.

"That won't be a problem." Jason mutters.

You rolls your eyes at him before looking back to Dick. "You're doing great, bud." You give Dick a thumbs up.

"That's it. I don't care, don't do anything.....graphic..."

"God." Gar groans, making you laugh. But, everyone has gathered this look of disgust on their faces with Dick’s choice of words. "Please, stop talking." Gar pleads.

"In a public area of the tower." Dick continues.

All of your faces contort into a grimace, even Jason’s. That is such an odd and specific request. You did not think this is where that joke would go. You didn’t think it’d go anywhere, let alone here.

"I feel like there's a very specific reason you said that and I don't wanna know." You laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd decide to have this conversation." You apologize to the room.

"And what did you learn today?" Dick asks, not too happy about feeling like he had to have the talk with the new Titans.

"You want me today something like pick my words more carefully next time but...I think I just learned not bring up interpersonal relations with you in front of other people." You scrunch your nose.

Dick lets out a sigh. "Well, are we clear then?"

"YES." Gar yells, dramatically. "Can we stop now? This is awkward."

"Come on, Gar. Surely this isn't new territory for you." You kick Jason under the counter. "Ow! What the fuck?"

"Shut the fuck up." You snip at him.

"Yeah? And What are you gonna do about it?" Jason looks you up and down.

You narrow your eyes and for a second you think about what you could do. You could give him a burn, something equivalent to a rug burn. But, that’s not right and you’d never actually try to hurt him, not like this. And you can’t punch him because that also seems a bit extreme. He’d probably see it coming anyway, block you, then hit you back.

"That's what I thought." Jason scoffs with a look of pride as he’s won.

You shove him with your hand, Jason falling off of his chair. He hits the floor with a thud, looking at up at you with a twisted face filled of anger and shock. For someone who can't fight and who's injured, you’re ballsy. Jason could fight you right now and you'd basically be defenseless but Jason wouldn't do that. He knows where the lines are when it comes to physical contact and he doesn't cross them. He crosses a lot of lines, but fighting people who can't fight back isn't one of those. So, he's even more pissed about it.

Jason gets back to his feet, closing the distance between him and you. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?" Jason yells in your face, Gar adjusting in his seat, ready to get up at any point and Dick is ready to step in if he needs to.

"You are, apparently. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole? For no reason? Aren't you friends?"

"He doesn't need you to come to his fucking defense. I was fucking joking." Jason snarls, looking just past you at Gar before looking back at you.

"Right." You mutter. "Except it's obvious the whole conversation has made him uncomfortable so why don't you go cool the fuck off. You obviously need to." You sit straight in your seat, your face close to Jason's and you’re not backing down.

"You shoved me!" Jason flings his arm out in frustration.

"You asked me what I was gonna do about it! So I showed you!" You bark at him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

A dry laugh escapes Jason's throat and he doesn't want to actually fight you, but you’re making it a little tempting right about now. "Is that all you fucking have?" He taunts you instead.

"Wanna test me?" You open your palms, holding them just in front of your shoulders as they glow. Jason looks at the green and he doesn't get how people with powers are so willing to use them. He doesn't need powers. He's got his fists and those are plenty.

"Because you're just another freak, right?"

Gar gets off his seat at that comment, pushing Jason slightly and standing in between you and Jason. "Dude, go calm down. It's not that serious." Gar keeps his voice level, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You a team now, huh?" Jason looks in between you.

"Jason, come on. Cool off for a few minutes." Dick keeps his stance, choosing not to crowd the already heated area.

"Fuck you guys!" Jason yells, pushing past Gar and heading down the right hallway.

Gar sits down again and Dick's position relaxes with Jason out of the room. Gar's just surprised it went as far as it did but it's also Jason. He has buttons and pushing them sometimes leads to blow-ups. Jason is still his friend but sometimes, he really does not make it easy and this is one of those times. He doesn't understand why Rachel and now you are freaks but somehow Gar is never a freak. He has powers, too and as far as he's concerned, turning into a tiger is far more freakish than whatever you have going on. And he always acts like it's your fault, somehow. Rachel was just born like that, no one gets to pick their biological parents. And Gar and you were injected. How is that right? It hurts a little because Gar knows that if they weren't friends, he'd be the target one of Jason's freak rants.

"Is that what everyone meant by I'd get used to Jason?" You ask the room.

"Yeah." Gar answers and Dick nods. "He does that sometimes."

"Interesting." You hum quietly, your hands shaking slightly, Gar taking notice.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking between your hands and your eyes.

"Oh..." You quickly move your hands under the countertop and tug your sleeves down. "I'm, uh I'm fine." You fake a smile at him.

It's not that you really thought Jason might hit you, him hitting you over a shove didn’t even cross your mind. You don't really know if he's the type that gets mad and hits people, you don't really know him at all. But, you'd think that would have been a warning from someone if that were the case. It was more that you don't like getting yelled at apparently. It wasn’t an issue before Jerry but, now it seems to be another trigger.

"He wouldn't have hurt you." Dick assures you, as if reading your mind.

"Jason doesn't hit people here when he gets mad, just yells a lot." Gar assures you, following Dick's lead.

"I didn't think he'd hit me." You tell them with ease. "Got that throbbing thing in the back of my head when someone's going to." You remind them. "And I just...I'm not scared of him. Guess I just don't like being yelled at when someone is in my face." You look to the counter. "I'm fine, honest."

"Are you sure?" Gar asks.

"Yeah." You give him a soft smile. "Thanks though. I'm gonna eat." You get down and find a bowl in a cabinet, moving around Dick.

"Okay, I'm gonna go check on Jason then, make sure he's cooling down." Dick gives Gar a look and a nod toward you. Gar nods in response while Dick leaves to find Jason.

You make your cereal while Gar watches you. Your hands are still shaking and he feels bad. It's not his fault that Jason blew up because it's Jason. He blows up at everything but Gar could have defended himself. It's nice that you did. He's never had someone defend him like that but it got you yelled at by Jason and after you had, what Gar assumed to be, a pretty nice conversation the night before. He just worries about you.

"Hey," Gar starts as you take your seat back next to him. "Wanna do something today?" Gar asks.

You furrow your brows at him, before taking a bite of your cereal. "Like what?"

"What'd you wanna do?" Gar shrugs, figuring maybe you should be the one to decide. He just wants to hang out with you.

"Mmmm." You hum and think for a second. "Dye my hair." You chuckle softly.

"That's what you wanna do?" Gar asks.

"Mhm." You hums. "Always wanted to and you have green hair, Rachel's hair is purple." You shrug.

You just want a change. This is a big change, being at the tower but that doesn’t have anything to do with your appearance. You like how you look but you want something different. Your mom never let you dye your hair even though you really wanted to. This place, this place allows you to do that and to change something about yourself. It’s a way to take control of something. The way you see it, with all the bruising and swelling, you don’t look much like yourself anyway. Might as well change the hair, too.

"Okay." Gar beams at you. "We can go get whatever dye you want today and I can help. I'm not sure how much help I'll be but maybe we can get Rachel to help if you want." Gar rambles off and he seems so energetic and happy about it.

"Uh..." You stutter. "Okay, yeah that'd be fun. Thank you." The smile you give him is wide and filled of joy.

"What color?"

You tell him your favorite color, beaming at him. "Always thought that hair was cool." You smirk at him.

"We'll go when you're done eating." Gar gets up from his chair. "I'm gonna shower first."

"Have a blast." You grin to yourself, going back to your cereal. "Meet me in my room after?" You look back to him and he nods with a cheery smile before turning on his feet, and quickly heading down the hallway. "He's so cute." You say to yourself, going back to your cereal.

After Gar's shower, he met with you in your room. You were already dressed and ready to go, you even asked Rachel for help when you got back which Rachel was more than happy to help. Once Gar was ready, he was the one that asked Dick for some money before you left and off you went with Rachel, you feeling more comfortable having both Gar and Rachel with you. You realize how great it is that Rachel was willing to help because you never would have gotten something everything you needed.

When you got back, Gar and you met with Rachel in a bathroom. Rachel got everything together and get to work with your hair. You explained to Rachel that you still wanted some of your natural hair color but the majority of it to be dyed. Rachel understood what you were explaining while Gar seemed a little confused.

As Rachel helped with your hair, the three of you got talking about past lives. You all avoided all talk about trauma and tragic backstories and instead talked about your favorite movies and shows, music. If you'd ever been to a concert, the best places you've ever eaten, random stories about family and friends you had before everything. And while these conversations are going on, there's warmth and comfort that consumes you.

This is the longest you’ve gone without thinking about how your face looks or how your body is sore or Jerry. It's just the three of you and you feel so at home because Gar and Rachel make it so easy. And you wonder if this is what real friendship feels like.

Sure, you had friends before your mom died. But that was then and this is now. You had a small circle of friends but only one that you really relied on and could tell anything to. But then your mom died and it all got so messy and heavy. You couldn't inconvenience even your best friend with your problems over it. Your best friend never really understood the person you started to become after. Vengeful and spiteful and angry. And desperate and cold and detached. It struck like a hurricane right through your friendship.

You couldn't handle anything and you were always running from CPS. What kind of friend would you be if you endangered your best friend's mom by getting in trouble with CPS? You knew it was only a matter of time before they threatened to take your best friend away if they didn't give you up. At least, that's how you always saw it. It was always such a big fear and you couldn't put them through that, on the chance it did happen so you just left one day and never came back. But you weren't a very good friend then either.

You had all these plans of hunting down the Joker and even though you'd probably die, too, hunting him down would have made it worth it to you. To look him in the eyes and just try to hit him or shoot him, if you had a gun anyway. You knew you would never make it out alive and that was something you deemed to be okay because you didn't have anything worth living for anymore. Your dad went off to choose drugs over you, your mom died, your best friend not knowing how to handle anything. A suicide mission seemed like a pretty sweet deal at the time. But, now you’re here with Gar and Rachel, in this bathroom getting the hair you’ve wanted to try and maybe you have more worth living for.

"Okay, what do you think?" Rachel asks, shutting the blow-dryer off, proud of the dye job she's done.

You look in the mirror and your face lights up. Stripes of the color consume the majority of your head and you could not be happier in this moment. "I love it!" You squeal before turning around. "Thank you!" You hug Rachel quickly before turning back around and there's a sweet and amused smile on Gar's face.

"It looks really good on you." Gar's smile turns shy as you look to him.

"Y-you think so?" You asks, your stomach swirling with his words.

Gar nods. "Yeah, I like the color." Gar’s smile is the softest thing in the world.

"How cute." Rachel giggles before cutting it short as Gar looks at her with wide eyes. "It looks good, yeah." Rachel agrees.

"Thank you." You look at yourself again and you’ve never had this hair before, but it makes you feel more like yourself. It's probably the self-expression it's allowing you to have but you really like it. "And hey, now people will have something else to look at that's not my face." You laugh softly.

"You're face looks good, too." Gar says so quickly, you and Rachel barely catch it, but you do and you both look at him with raised brows. Rachel looks in between you and Gar, waiting for something to happen. This is the most entertainment she's had since they got to San Francisco. "I mean..." Gar stutters. "The, uh, the bruises and stuff, they're healing."

"Mhm." You hum with burning cheeks. "Thank you, Gar."

Gar feels the embarrassment wanting to eat him alive. He can't believe he said that out loud. Now Rachel is looking at him with knowing eyes and he can't help it. Sometimes, things just come out and then he feels like he has to backtrack and now he's embarrassed even though you didn't seem bothered by it. Which then makes him think he didn't need to add in the last comment about the bruises. Surely, you know he didn't mean just the bruises are looking fine now and the meant your whole face but now he doesn't know and he has got to get his brain to shut up for five seconds.

"There you are." Dick says, looking into the bathroom, the door wide open.

"Yes?" Rachel asks.

"Training room." Dick says.

Gar checks the time on his phone, seeing they were in fact late for their last training session. Shopping with you took a little longer than expected since you stopped for food and were having fun together. Then dying your hair took a while but Dick doesn't seem mad about it.

The three of you follow Dick to the training room where Jason is already waiting, as if he hadn't left the room since this morning. You sit on a bench and watch as you’re not allowed to train yet. Dick mostly supervises after giving them some instructions on what to do and then gives pointers. You mostly watch Gar and Jason.

It's interesting watching them. Jason is clearly the aggressor. You can't tell if it's all his pent-up aggression or if it's just his experience as Robin that makes him the aggressor but you find it interesting nonetheless. Gar and Rachel seem to work together to go against Jason even though they're all supposed to be working against each other. Gar works more on a defensive tactic, going for Jason after Jason comes for him or while Rachel has him distracted and that's when Gar gets a hit it. They're being trained by the same person but they fight differently and it seems to match their personalities.

Dick walks over to you as the other three continue to spar. "Like the new hair." Dick compliments you.

"Thanks, Rachel did it for me." You beam up at him.

"Feeling more comfortable?"

"Yeah..." You sigh. "I give you shit 'cause it's fun but I think I'm gonna like it here. Thank you again for taking me in." You say candidly. You make a mental note to thank him regularly for it.

It warms Dick's heart to know his efforts mean something. He just wants to be the mentor he wishes Bruce was and he just wants to help. It seems to be working, with you and Rachel and Gar, jury is still out on Jason. But Dick knows Jason will not be an overnight success.

"Good, I'm glad." Dick offers you a smile before walking back to where he previously was.

The rest of the training session goes by, Gar and Rachel going to you when they had a water break and talking. Jason opted to be by himself, Gar noticing the concern on your face and assuring you that he'll be calm and be over it the next day. But it doesn't quite sit right for you. You don't want him mad at you, you do like to mess with him in a fun banter way, not him being pissed at you.

You like to push people's buttons but you’re not too fond of people being actively mad at you. If there's a line you aren't supposed to cross, all someone has to do is tell you and you'll respect the line. You aren't about making people unnecessarily uncomfortable or mad. But you nod along with Gar anyway and eventually training ends. You stay behind with Jason, Gar hovers a little more than he would given the events of the afternoon but he does eventually leave the two of you alone.

"So, you gonna stay mad at me forever?" You ask as you walk over to Jason who's seated on a bench, getting a drink and ignoring you. "Come on," You groan. "Can you not handle a shove from me?"

Jason glares up at you. "Just shut up." He groans.

"Nope." You sit next to him, your leg touching his. "I'm sorry I shoved you." Jason's brows furrow at you and he doesn't think anyone has apologized to him since he's been here, for anything. "Honest, I should have left it alone but I provoked you further than I should have." You are sorry for it. Sure, Jason owes you an apology, too but you can apologize first. 

"Sorry for what I said." Jason mumbles, swallowing his pride.

He never wants to hurt someone's feelings, not really. In the moment, absolutely but then after he feels horrible about it. He hates when other people make him feel weak. You shoving him from his seat, it made him feel weak and he hates it. It’s how he’s felt his entire life. Weak. So, when he feels weak or when someone pushes the wrong bottom, he just starts talking and going off. It just flows out of his mouth before he can even think about it. It's not an excuse, he just can't help it and he is sorry.

"To you and Gar." Jason lets out a sigh.

The corner of your smile pulls up. "I forgive you."

Jason glances at you and he can’t stay mad at you. Normally, he’s very good at holding grudges. He still has a grudge against a kid who pushed him down a slide when he was seven. He’s very good at holding grudges but you’ve got this smirk that says you’re up to no good and this look in your eyes that sends this electricity through his blood. He can’t explain it but he can’t stay mad at you.

"Did you still wanna train tonight when everyone goes to bed?" Jason turns his head towards you, twitching his brows up and the grin starts pull at his lips. 

"If you're still willing."

"Someone's gotta show you how to do more than fucking shove someone." Jason scoffs but a smile pulls at his lips as he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, got powers now and never had issues on the streets, okay? People happen to like my quick wit and quips.” You lightly nudge him with your shoulder. 

"Yeah," Jason chortles. "That's why no one fucked with you.” Jason nods his head and lightly nudges you back, not believing you.

"I'd like to think so, yes.” You hold your head up with pride and Jason has this genuinely kind smile on his face. “What time, boss?”

Jason shakes his head. “Midnight. Everyone is usually in their rooms or asleep.”

“Okay, I'll meet you here then." You smirk at him as you get up and lick your lips. He knows deep down he doesn't have a shot with you but his stomach burns with the thought of you. You get under his skin like no one else and he hates to admit it but he really likes it.

"Don't be late." Jason quips, his voice taunting.

You shake your head, turning around to face him again. “Shut the fuck up.” You laugh softly. “I’ll meet you here at midnight, on the dot.” You widen your eyes, mocking him before exiting the room.

prev. chapter | next chapter 

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @thatfangirl42​

#gar logan #jason todd #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan fanfic #gar logan fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #caving in

[sillysxg4r]

Jack-in-the-Box? More Like Raspberry-in-the-Box!

“Little raspberry, sweetie, please come out of that little box of yours!” Shadow Milk was sitting against the large pink jack-in-the-box, “It’s been hours…” It trails off, “Look, if you’re waiting for an apology for that little prank I pulled on you, you’re going to be staying there forever!”

Raspberry Carousel doesn’t respond. Shadow Milk wonders what they do inside of their jack-in-the-box. I mean, what’s so special about that big pink box? Does it take you to another dimension? Is it a wonderland in there? Who would sit inside of a box for hours? They were quiet too. Were they even there?

“… If you’re not going to come out, I’ll force you to come out!” Shadow Milk stands up, having enough of waiting. It makes its way to the jack-in-the-box’s crank. It begins to turn the crank, music starts playing as it does so. A ribbon string slithers out the top of the box and smacks its hand away from the crank. It pulls its hand back in surprise, “Ah ha! You are in there! Come out, come out!” Shadow Milk starts to turn the crank once again.

“Leave me alone!” Raspberry Carousel shouts from inside the box.

“Oh but little raspberry, it’s been SO long since I’ve last seen you!” Shadow Milk says in a sarcastic tone.

“It’s only been an hour, you’re being dramatic,” Raspberry Carousel groans.

“Me?! Dramatic?! I’ll show you!!” Shadow Milk turns the crank faster. The lid eventually pops open, the confetti from the box flies into the air. Raspberry Carousel peeks their head out, looking annoyed, “Get down here this instant, little jester!” Shadow Milk points at the ground while staring at Raspberry Carousel.

For some reason, Raspberry Carousel actually climbs out of the box. They use their ribbon strings to help them down and look at Shadow Milk. It pouts but then smiles.

“Ooooh, it’s so good to see your face again!” Shadow Milk squeals before flapping its hands. Raspberry Carousel stares at it with a blank expression.

“Did you need something or what?” Raspberry Carousel puts their hand on their forehead. Shadow Milk smiles and laughs.

“More like, are you still mad at that trick I pulled?” Shadow Milk puts its hands behind its back and leans forward.

“Of course I am!! You got me soaked with that stupid water bucket you decided to place on top of the door!!” Raspberry Carousel stomps their hoof on the ground and sways their tail a bit. Shadow Milk bursts out laughing.

“HAHAHA!! Heeheehaha! Of course you’d still be mad! Who am I kidding? I know you like the back of my hand!” Shadow Milk wraps its arm around Raspberry Carousel’s shoulders. They push it away, growling.

“Don’t touch me, blueberry!” Raspberry Carousel hisses.

“Aww, I’m your little blueberry?” Shadow Milk smirks playfully. Raspberry Carousel looks away, blushing a bit.

“S-Shut up!! I was trying to make you feel what I feel when you call me ‘little raspberry!’” Raspberry Carousel sways their tail in anger.

“Oh, really? Well! That didn’t work, did it? It had the opposite effect, it seems!” Shadow Milk laughs before wrapping its tail around their tail.

“Hey! Let my tail go!” Raspberry Carousel pulls their tail away from its tail.

“You’re getting more flushed by the second! At this rate, you’ll be redder than a raspberry!” Shadow Milk continues to laugh at Raspberry Carousel’s flushed face, “Say, why don’t we crash on some sugar? I know you love sugary goodies!” Raspberry Carousel thinks for a bit, their face burning at this point.

“I would love that…” Raspberry Carousel mumbles before covering their face.

“I guess you can say that this is my way of apologizing!” Shadow Milk walks away with Raspberry Carousel, “We are going to have a sugar crash tonight!!”

A few hours later…

“Uuuughhh… My tummy hurts…” Shadow Milk groans, lying on the floor with its arm on its forehead and its hand on its stomach.

“That’s what happens when you eat all that sugar,” Mystic Flour shakes its head.

“But it was so worth it…” Shadow Milk chuckles, “To be with them… Actually having fun…”

“It looks like you’re about to pop,” Mystic Flour frowns. Eternal Sugar giggles at Mystic Flour’s comment.

“How about you shut up? I’m trying to rest after that sugar crash,” Shadow Milk growls before closing its eyes.

“You’re such a simp for that cookie,” Eternal Sugar puts their hands on their hips.

“Maybe if you two ate some spicy food, it would’ve been more thrilling!!” Burning Spice says.

“You know I don’t like spicy food,” Shadow Milk snarls.

“I know! Remember that one time I gave you a spicy chip? You couldn’t stop crying!” Burning Spice laughs, “You tried to act like you were okay when you weren’t! It was hilarious!”

“Can you shut up?!” Shadow Milk shouts. It begins to feel nauseous, “Ugh… Ah- I don’t feel so good…” It suddenly pukes on the ground. Eyes open in the black puke and looks at Mystic Flour.

“Eww!!” Eternal Sugar backs away, “That’s fucking nasty!!”

“Why is your puke looking at me?” Mystic Flour cringes.

“Ah, I feel much better,” Shadow Milk giggles.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #eternal sugar cookie #mystic flour cookie #burning spice cookie #cookie run oc #raspberry carousel cookie ss #shadowcarousel #this is my first time writing a fanfic on tumblr #I usually post on my ao3 but idk #🍓₊˚ෆ ⋆ Silly Writes #🍮₊˚ෆ ⋆ Silly Ocs #🍰₊˚ෆ ⋆ Silly Ships #🃏🎠₊˚ෆ ⋆