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frannyzooey · 2 days

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Down the Hall

Frankie Morales x f!reader

Tags: Explicit, age gap because you know what I'm about (Frankie is your mom’s boyfriend, he is in his 40s, you are in your mid-20s)

A/N: Yea….so this is dedicated to @intheorangebedroom who inspired this entire idea and to @whatsnewalycat whose beautiful brain and writing inspired me as well. Thank you to @astroboots for cheering me on, to @bageldaddy for the super in depth beta and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch who soothed by "does this hit" worries — your minds are golden and I am so happy you support this utter filth. Ily ❤️

He thought that dating someone his own age would ground him, steady him. Not that he ever paid much attention to the age of the women he dated, but he thought with someone who had their own shit figured out, he might be inspired to do the same.

Unmoored and unattached since he joined the army in his twenties, he was pushing forty now and craved some kind of routine. Living alone gave him too much time for thinking, too many hours spent inside his own head. He knew that living like that for too long could lead to bad decisions and thought he might hold himself to a higher standard when he saw how they held themselves to one.

He met her at a bar – the most cliche of meeting places, but for good reason. She was out with friends after work and from the start, he was attracted to the way she smiled with her whole mouth. Everything about her seemed sensuous and fun, so inviting that he found himself drawn in and when he asked if he could take the seat next to her, he matched her smile with one of his own.

When she invited him home that night, he buried himself deep while feasting on that generous mouth.

He stayed that night, and then one night became twice a week, became three – and before he knew it, his lease was up on his apartment and he moved in. It was nice to come home to someone after work. To know that someone was there, wondering how his day went. To have a warm body curled up next to him in bed.

She was so independent, so driven. A corporate job that required her to dress in slippery blouses and pretty skirts with heels; the same he loved to strip from her when she came home all stressed out the way she did sometimes. And she had a kid – a daughter – already in college somewhere on the east coast, but that didn’t bother him. Dating in his forties meant people already had their own histories, and he was no exception.

Sometimes after she fell asleep and he had time alone to think, he still felt something that itched beneath his skin. Something that pulled at him from within, something that remained unsettled. He told himself that it was just an adjustment period after so many years of being unattached, and shoved those feelings deep down inside of him, determined to ignore them until he taught himself a new way to live.

Her breathing deep and steady beside him, he told himself that she was good for him.

That was what counted.

He was all for it when she told him her daughter was coming home to stay the summer between semesters. He liked the idea of having another person in the house – another distraction, another responsibility to take him out of his own head.

He worked odd hours, and during his off days, Frankie took up the task of preparing her daughter’s old room. Light pink walls, a creamy bedspread dotted with delicate flowers: his mind supplied an automatic image of the little girl that lined the hallway in frames. He knew she was older than that now, but the way her mom talked about her, he couldn’t help imagining a little kid.

Tasked with picking her up from the airport the day she arrived, he had just stepped out of the shower when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he tugged a shirt over his damp curls, and opened the door.

Jesus Christ. Speechless, he stared at the prettiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you apologized, tugging a heavy bag higher up on your shoulder. “I got in early and thought an Uber would be faster.”

He stood there for a moment, just staring, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. And then he saw it: the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lush mouth. The resemblance stamped across your delicate features.

“I couldn’t find my key.” You stood there, looking uneasy on your own doorstep. “You must be Frankie. Or is it Francisco? My mom said you’d be here. It’s nice to meet you.”

At the rounded sound of his full name coming from your mouth, his gaze snapped back to meet your eyes while you hung there, clearly waiting for him to say something. His body was slow to catch up with his brain, the little girl his mind supplied was gone, replaced by the vision that stood in front of him. Still young and fresh-faced, but grown nonetheless and so, so fucking beautiful.

When you gestured towards the house behind him, he finally shook himself from the initial shock.

“Shit,” he apologized, stepping back out of your way. “Yea, it’s Frankie. Nice to meet you.” You gave him a half smile, and when you stepped inside, he reached for your bag. “Here, let me grab that.”

His hand dragging through his curls, he stood in the entryway and watched you make yourself at home: your shoes immediately kicked off on the doormat, your jacket hung neatly next to his own like it had always belonged there.

“Do you know when my mom gets home?”

He cleared his throat, trying not to stare at the length of your legs underneath the hem of your shorts. “Uh, she said probably around six? That’s when she usually gets home.”

You nodded, holding your hand out for your bag and for a split second, he wondered if he should bring it upstairs for you. It would be the polite thing to do, but the idea of entering your room now felt like overstepping. You weren’t a kid, you didn’t need him like that. The boundaries had suddenly blurred and shifted, and he whisked away the image of you settling into your bedroom just as fast as it popped into his head.

When you grabbed the bag from him, he felt relief.

It was easy to avoid you for the afternoon while you got settled. Instead, he mowed the lawn, prepared dinner, all the while with his ears attuned to the sound of you walking around above him. He felt on edge, anxious. The excitement he thought he would feel with someone else in the house had turned into unease.

He made himself an outsider, even more so when your mom came home. Not wanting to intrude on your time together, he stayed in the kitchen to cook dinner for the two of you and delivered it to the living room, placing your plates on the coffee table.

“Thank you, baby, that’s so nice.” Your mother scooted forward, tilting her chin up towards him in a silent request for a kiss.

Granting it to her, he felt her familiar hold slip around the back of his neck to keep him in place for a moment, keenly aware of the way you were right there. For a split second while his lips were still on hers, he glanced up at you and it was clear that he caught you watching by the way you hastily looked away the second he met your eyes.

He fucked her hard that night, his hand over her mouth so you wouldn’t hear.

She was gone in the morning when he made his way downstairs, and he was pleasantly surprised to find coffee already in the pot.

“I made extra,” you said, from your perch on the chair at the table. Sleep shorts high on your thighs, an oversized tee shirt covering your top half. The way it engulfed you made you look younger than you were.

He looked away, busying himself with pouring a cup.

“I drink a lot, so I made a lot,” you explained with shy self-deprecation.

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, sitting down at the table. “Got any plans for today? Or for the summer, I guess?”

Wading the tentative waters of getting to know someone, he watched your fingers play with the edge of the paper.

“Just relax for a bit, I think? Catch up with some old friends? No plan really. I just didn’t want to hang out on a deserted campus.”

He nodded. “Makes sense.”

And so began the morning routine you would both share for the next few weeks. Hesitant and quiet around each other in the beginning, sliding into something normal fairly fast. Your mother was early to rise and early to bed, but he had never been and neither were you.

He joined you in the late morning at the kitchen table, the curve of your soft cheek highlighted in the slant of light through the window. On the couch at night, a different kind of illumination from the light of the TV, yet hitting your cheek just the same. Your things scattered around the living room, your toothbrush next to his in the bathroom, your clothes mixed with his in the wash.

Your proximity was what he blamed for the constant thoughts he had about you.

Every morning he admired how rumpled you looked, how sleepy and soft and inviting. It was endearing, but soon other thoughts edged out the more innocent ones: thoughts about your legs wrapped around his waist, your slender fingers wrapped around something other than a coffee cup.

The want he felt for you pooled in various places inside him: his brain, his chest, between his thighs. It spilled down the shower drain and spilled hot across his stomach.

It flooded your mother’s mouth, and she was none the wiser.

Afterwards, she tucked her face into the meat of his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the skin there. Sated and content, she curled herself around him. “Let’s do something this weekend together. Actually make use of that pool we have for once.”

A barbecue. She’d been talking about having one for a while.

“We’ve been working so hard. I feel like I barely even see you, honey.”

Something akin to guilt tugged at him, thinking of the shifts he had been picking up in an effort to avoid you. Your eyes, your smile, your stupid sleep shorts.

He hummed his agreement and she kissed him in thanks, her breaths eventually evening out as she fell asleep.

Frankie lay awake, the image of your closed bedroom door stuck in his mind.

–

“Jesus Christ,” you murmured as you watched Frankie climb out of the pool.

Broad, bare shoulders, tanned swathes of skin, cute little dimples just above his ass. Water ran down over his tanned skin, the thin material of his swim shorts stuck to his ass and when he turned around to grab a towel off a nearby chair, you were glad for your sunglasses.

Fuck me.

The material of his shorts molded to every inch of his thick cock, the shape clearly outlined. Oblivious, he ran the towel over his curls, over his shoulders and arms, down his torso – and when his hand gingerly pulled the material away from his crotch, you memorized the swirl of dark hair that surrounded his navel and led down.

“Can you help me with the grill, honey?”

Your mom’s voice pulled your attention away from him.

Her boyfriend, you reminded yourself. Frankie was her boyfriend.

“Yea,” he called back, chucking his towel on the chair. “Be right there. Let me put a shirt on.”

The shirt he shrugged over his head was the same one you folded that morning. The material was threadbare and super soft, the muscles of his back shifting underneath the thin fabric as he sauntered over to the grill. You knew the way it felt in your hands, and at the thought of his body heat through the material, you pressed your thighs together.

The afternoon sun bathed you in warmth, but it was nothing compared to the heat that pooled inside your bottoms as you continued to watch him from your recline by the pool. His brown curls glinted in the sun, his throat bobbing with a swallow when your mother brought him a beer.

When his eyes flashed over to you, you finally looked away.

You saw those deep, doleful brown eyes in your sleep.

You felt them on you all the time: in the dark living room during family movie time, your mother curled up against his side. In the kitchen after dinner, when you loaded the dishwasher while he put away the food. In the mornings, when you pretended to read the paper while he snuck hooded peeks at you and drank you in.

Startled by his handsomeness from the very first time you laid eyes on him, your crush only grew with every passing day spent in his company. He was so thoughtful, so attentive and kind, but it was something else buried within his gaze that drew you in.

A barely restrained want that shone clear on his face every time he looked at you. A need simmering under the surface, you saw the way he fought it.

You thought about him constantly: imagined him crowding you against the counter in the kitchen, saw him pulling back the shower curtain to join you, pretended your fingers were his in your bed at night.

Born out of your own need, you pushed him. Played with the limits of his self control, desperate for him to make a move. No action overt enough to be blatant, the way he stared at you made you feel confident, bold. The want pouring off his skin when you hung around him was obvious and thick, filling the space between the two of you until he inevitably excused himself.

When it’s time to eat, you take a seat next to him on the bench, your thigh pressed hot against his. You waited for him to pull away, but he never did and the intimate sensation of the hair on his leg brushing against your own smoother skin made it hard to eat, though you missed it when he got up.

Your mother, one margarita too many and giggly and loose, pulled him into a dance under the stars that had just begun to come out. He humored her, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close, smiling at every murmured secret she slipped into his ear.

You watched the scene unfold right in front of you with a fond, humoring expression, and his eyes kept finding yours, flashing in the darkness.

You pretended nonchalance, but the entire time, you wanted.

He took her to bed while you cleaned up the kitchen.

You knew he fucked her – you heard it sometimes. They tried to be quiet for your sake but sometimes a whimper would slip down the hall, the deep reverberation of a groan in the dark.

Climbing into bed that night, your mind lingered on the image of his wet swim trunks. The dark swirl of hair, the heft in the outline.

You wondered what he fucked like with a cock like that.

–

“Something’s going on in the Arizona market,” your mom explained, tossing items into her suitcase. A silk blouse spilled over the side, and you tucked it back in with the rest. “I’ll be gone through Thursday, maybe Friday? Hopefully not the weekend, but I’ll let you know.”

“Do you need a ride to the airport?”

Smiling at you, she stepped forward and cupped your cheek with her hand for a moment. “That’s sweet, honey, but I’m good. Frankie’s got it.”

Apprehension swirled with anticipation, the joint feelings settled low in your gut. You’d been alone with him before, but never for this long. Never truly alone, for days on end.

The man himself poked his head around the corner of the doorway, the width of his shoulders filling out the frame. He glanced at you, and then his watch. “You about ready, baby?”

She bustled around the room, tossing things here and there onto the bed and he looked at you again, a slight frown pulling between his brows.

His expression gave something akin to frustration, and for a split second, you thought it was because of the time your mom was taking. When you felt his dark eyes drop down the length of your body involuntarily and then back up again, you turned away with a small smile, knowing it to be something else.

–

For the first couple days, he stayed away from the house as much as he could. Kept his distance until he ran out of errands, until he drove down the same stretch of road too many times. He didn’t trust himself to be alone with you, and he hated himself for it.

Self loathing creeped in every time he thought about the way his jeans tightened even thinking of you alone in the house. His girlfriend’s fucking daughter, half his age. The whole thing was fucked up.

And yet, he couldn’t stop.

He felt bad, thinking of you suddenly being all alone after spending so much time with people around, but he told himself that you probably loved having the space to yourself.

He came in the shower that morning to the thought of your mouth wrapped around the base of his cock, and he was unable to look you in the eye when he saw you in the kitchen afterward. Your hopeful expression lingered in his mind all day as he stretched out the hours.

The sky turned from light blue to dark, and he finally caved. He couldn’t stay away forever.

The house was quiet when he walked in, tossing his keys on the entryway table. He crept around, looking for any sign of your presence, until he heard the shower running upstairs. Light spilled down the staircase, and heading into the kitchen, he tried to push down the thoughts running rampant in his head.

He drank a glass of water, listening.

The shower turning off (your naked body, damp and warm), your footsteps padding down the hall (that smooth skin, hidden under your towel), your bedroom door shutting (the towel dropping onto your floor).

He stayed downstairs, turning the TV on to distract himself, the air in the house charged with a magnetic pull from your room. He waited until there had been nothing but silence for the better part of a half hour, then dared to venture upstairs.

He’d just say goodnight, that’s all. Just so you knew you weren’t alone.

His knuckles rapped against your door, and he pushed it open when he heard you say come in.

“Hey,” you greeted him, slight surprise on your face. Stretched out in bed, the inviting cloud of your comforter was plush underneath your body. You paused the movie you were watching, and sat up on your elbows. “Haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

“Yea,” he replied, leaning against the frame of your door. His eyes followed a slow path up your bare legs.

“Work been crazy or something?” you asked.

“Something like that, yea,” he answered. His hand stayed on the knob of your door, an anchor that kept him from crossing a line. “I actually just stopped by to say goodnight. I’m gonna turn in.”

“Already?” you teased. “It’s pretty early, isn’t it? Aren’t you gonna live it up while my mom is gone?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve lived it up enough. I’m an old man, remember? We don’t do that kind of stuff.”

“Forty-five is hardly an old man,” you scolded with a smile. “You wanna watch a movie instead?”

You patted the bed next to you, and his face sobered. You didn’t see it, instead reaching for the lotion on your bedside table to work some into your hands and the image of you jerking his cock with that same lotion flashed across his mind. He frowned.

“In here?”

You shrugged, laying back down. “I mean, I’m already all set up in here…”

You left the offer hanging, and even though he knew - he fucking knew he shouldn’t - he found himself nodding.

You looked surprised at his answer for a split second, and then pleased.

“Let me go get changed.”

He walked down the hall towards his room, scolding himself the entire time. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t go back into that fucking room. Don’t think about how smooth her skin is and how much you want to kiss her. Don’t think about how her sheets smell like her, don’t think about how much you want to lick her cunt.

The thoughts ran on a loop as he peeled off his work clothes.

They echoed in his head as he pulled on his sweats.

They followed him out of his bedroom and all the way down the hall, stopping at your doorway.

You turned your head, looking at him expectantly, looking so fucking lush and innocent, so eager to have him join you.

He swallowed hard, mouth watering and left his guilt in the hallway, joining you in bed.

–

Pretending to ignore the heavy blanket of tension pulsing between your bodies, you kept your eyes fixed on the screen.

Stretched out next to you, he kept a respectable distance, but you felt the heat that poured off of his skin. He looked so large in your bed, so much like a man. His long limbs splayed out over your girlish comforter, his masculine scent filled the space and when he crossed his arms, you admired the way the hem of his sleeve stretched around his bicep.

Lightheaded and trembling with a heady want that ached between your thighs, you made it through the whole movie – until the room descended into darkness, until the credits rolled and the screen went black

Until it was just the two of you sitting side by side in the dark.

The sheets rustled when you rolled onto your side to face him.

“What did you think?” you asked quietly.

He looked down at you from his slouch on the bed, and your fingers twitched with the need to smooth away the crease that rested permanently between his brows. You would think he was mad if not for his eyes: those always look conflicted more than anything. Constant turmoil, roiling deep within the dark depths.

Not answering, he stared down at you for a long moment before shrugging.

“Okay, I guess. Well, have a good night.”

He then started to slide off the bed.

Disappointment flooded your chest, the tension that you’d been feeling for the last two hours releasing restlessly through your limbs. Already making plans to get your vibrator from your side table to use while burying your face into the sheets he was just sitting on, he stilled.

Your eyes fixed on his broad back, you could almost see the decision being made and he quickly turned before he could convince himself to stop.

Bending down, he kissed you.

It was consuming. The brush of his mustache, the taste of his mouth, the weight of his solid body as he pushed you into the bedding, draping it over yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth to slide against your own, and he swallowed the soft sound that caught in the back of your throat. Pushing himself into the cradle between your thighs, he forced them open wider as he deepened the kiss, and his dry, calloused hand slid underneath the hem of your shirt, wrapping around your hip.

You knew you should push him away, but your hands only dragged him closer, grabbing everything you could touch: the slip of his curls, the curve of his whiskered jaw, the rounds of his broad shoulders. You dug your fingertips into his sides as he ground his hips against yours and your knees hitched higher around his torso.

His hand wrapped around the top of your shin, pushing down to hold you in place.

“Jesus,” he breathed into your mouth between kisses, his fingers tightening in their hold before sliding down to touch everything he can: the meat of your hips, his big hand cupping your ass with a greedy squeeze. Need rolled off of him in waves, his touch betraying just how long he had thought about this and his mouth shifted down to devour the long line of your neck, tasting the sweet hollow of your throat.

Your pulse beat fast under his tongue, speeding up when he let out a groan against the sensitive skin.

“Take – take this off–” he sat back on his ankles, his hands fumbling with your shirt.

As soon as you pulled it over your head, his mouth latched onto your nipple. His tongue swirled around it, sliding over the peaked bud with a suck. His beard scraped across your sensitive skin, leaving a wet path that glistened over the plane of your chest as he dragged his mouth to your other breast and his heavy hand reached down to cup you wholly over your sleep shorts.

His fingers dug into the dip of your entrance and the heel of his hand ground hard against your clit.

“I can’t stop thinking about this pussy,” he confessed. His fingers rubbed harder, and he groaned hot against your skin. “I can already feel how soaked she is for me. How much she wants it.”

You nodded with a whimper, rolling your hips into his touch. “God yes. Please.”

He pulled back just enough to stare down at your face, his pitch black eyes sliding over your features to settle on your open mouth. “Tell me you want this. Tell me how much you want my cock.”

“Yes. Please, please,” you begged.

“It’s gonna be a lot, baby.” He wetted his bottom lip with his tongue, his hand working, working, working. “She’s gonna need to be wet to take what I need her to take.”

A fresh wave of arousal washed through you, and your sleep shorts clung to your center with every grind of his palm. His thick fingers nudged the fabric to the side, exploring.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, releasing a heavy breath. “Fuck.”

His eyes fluttered shut with a frown as his touch slid through your soaked seam and kissing you again, he timed the slide of his tongue with the slick stretch of two fingers.

Your thighs opened wider around his waist, a whine crawling out of your throat when he pushed them deeper and when he started a smooth, audible stroke, you started to ride his hand.

You’d been watching his fingers for months: wrapped around the steering wheel in the car, loosely cradling the neck of a beer bottle, drumming against his thigh when he watched TV sometimes. You’d imagined them tucked inside you so many times, buried in your mouth or your cunt, and as he worked a third one in, you let out a filthy moan.

“I gotta work it open, baby,” he soothed, pulling your earlobe between his lips. “It’ll be okay. I know you can take it.”

His hips started to follow the rhythmic roll of his hand and when he seemed satisfied with how much you could take, he slid his fingers out, reaching to tear his shirt off over his head. When he pushed his fingers into his mouth for a moment, his lips wrapping around his knuckles as he sucked your taste off the thick digits, his hooded eyes took in the way you scrambled to take your sleep shorts off.

Following your lead, he dumped everything onto the floor beside your bed, and it felt like heaven when you felt his bare skin against the inside of your thighs. So broad, so firm and strong, his body pressed you into the mattress and you felt the hot, pulsing heft of his cock pushing against your cunt. You clenched at the teasing sensation of what was to come, and reached down to grasp him, but his hand caught yours and pushed it into the bedding above your head.

“Let me do it. I wanna watch your face when I put it in,” he confessed, resting his weight on top of you as he reached down with his other hand to guide himself in.

Sticky slick smeared between the both of you, and when the tip of his cock forced you to bloom around him, his eyes fixed on your face. Greedily, he devoured the sight of your mouth dropping open, a tiny tiny frown appearing between your brows and he thickened inside you, pushing forward.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “It’s so much.” So much more than you ever thought it would be, even with all the months spent imagining it.

He bottomed out and the air froze in your lungs, your cunt stuffed fuller than it’s ever been.

“Shhh,” he soothed, staying in place to let you adjust. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re so fucking tight, baby. So tight.”

Squirming underneath him, you hitched your knees higher around his torso and he rocked his hips to slide halfway out before grinding back in with a weighted push. He gave you a minute: a tense minute, a minute thick and full of wanting, a minute where all you could focus on was the stretch of his cock and the heated bulk of his body and the firmness of his chest pressed against yours.

He brushed his lips against yours, and gently rolled his hips.

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this? About fucking you, in this bed?” His voice deep and breathless, it sounded overwhelmingly intimate breathed against your cheek.

You shook your head.

“I thought I was the only one,” you admitted. “I used to think – oh fuck – I used to think about you coming down the hallway in the night. Crawling into my bed and fucking me just like this. Just like I can hear you fuck her.”

“You listen to me fuck her?” His hips rocked forward a little faster, picking up pace.

“I can’t help it,” you whined. “The sounds – the sounds you make. I wanted to make you make them. I wanted to be the reason.”

His fingers pushed through the hold of your own, locking your hands together above your head and he dug his knees into the bed for leverage. Your breasts shifted underneath him, bouncing lightly as he fucked into you harder and his eyes dropped down to watch. “You are, baby. You are. I think about you all the time.”

Building steadily underneath him, your head pushed back into the bedding and his mouth found your throat, his teeth scraping against the tender skin. His hips never stopping their filling grind, you pushed your fingers through his curls and when he bit down with a suck, a slurred yes slipped out of your outstretched throat.

You imagined your mom seeing it, asking you if you went on a date with someone.

His strokes got harder, harsher, his hips snapping against yours and digging your fingers into the soft globes of his ass, you forced him deeper. When you clenched around his thick length, he looked down at you, wrecked and desperate.

“I wish I tasted you,” he groaned. “Next time, okay?”

You frantically nodded, unable to focus on anything but the bright, shining edge of your release.

He could see it, feel it in the squeeze of your soaked cunt and his vision blurred around the edges, his own want building at the base of his spine.

“You gonna come?”

You are. The sounds he’s making above you and the way he feels inside you and the scent and need rolling off his skin and those fucking pitch black eyes that have been in your dreams for months –

Slick dripped down the curve of your ass, your hips locking up underneath him and when you came with a silent cry, he groaned deep and loud, fucking you right through it.

“Tell me I can fucking come inside you. Say it,” he pleaded, fingers gripped on your chin to hold your gaze on his. His words punctuated by the snap of his hips, you nod your head.

“Do it,” you whined.

Your fingers threaded through his curls, it’s the tug that you give that does it. Coming harder than he had in his fucking life, he filled your tight cunt with thick ropes of his spend. Endless, smeared over the shaft of his thick cock as he continued to pump into you because he couldn’t stop, slipping out to drip onto the delicate sheets below.

“Christ,” he groaned, his jaw clenched as the veins in his neck strained above you, his hips stuttering. Slowing them into a languid roll against your own, his softening cock was still a thick, filling weight inside and when he looked down at you, you recognized the guilt that already flooded the brown depths.

You stared right back, holding him tight.

“Stay,” you murmured, holding him in place when he started to roll off of you.

You wanted to remember this. The hot press of his skin against yours, tacky and slick with sweat. The warm gust of his breath over your lips, the rapid beat of his pulse under his flushed neck. The wild curls that stuck damply along his hairline, the brush of his fingers as he tenderly thumbed at the curve of your jaw.

He swallowed and you could see the war in his eyes, something you recognized as being there from the start. His hand curled over the crown of your head, and you pressed a kiss to his throat.

“You can’t –” he started, eyes fluttering shut at the press of your mouth. “You can’t tell your mom about this, okay. We can’t say anything.”

We. You reveled in the sound of the word, your head nodding underneath him. A secret to share. Something for the two of you alone.

“I won’t,” you promised. “Just don’t leave, okay?”

You felt small and vulnerable asking, and when he looked down at you, a glimpse of the girl he imagined on that very first day tugged at his memory. Not the age he pictured of course, but the way you needed him.

The way he wanted you to need him all along.

His face nuzzled yours, his nose sliding across your cheek. A kiss pressed against the soft, youthful curve of your cheek that he had admired for months, he nodded with your sweet taste still lingering on his tongue.

“I won’t, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales/you #frankie morales/reader

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hiraethwrote · 2 days

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just come home pt. 2 - satoru gojo

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[satoru gojo - f!reader] ✧ summary: dealing with the breakup has been hard for the both of you, and it doesn't help when your randomly bump into each other ✧ cw: angst, some fluff, denial, slight intoxication, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 3.6k

part 1

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35 days has passed since he had last seen you, let alone heard your voice and he never knew he could miss something so much. The first week after everything had went down, he had blown up your phone in hopes you two could talk it through. But he hadn’t been so lucky, as he was sent straight to voicemail every time.

He was dying to know how you were doing, wondering if you were as miserable without him as he found himself to be without you. Every time he stepped into the abandoned apartment, the scene of you leaving him played over and over in his head. It wasn’t until your friend had picked up all your stuff he realised how imprinted you were in the apartment. It didn’t feel like home to him anymore.

The apartment was, in theory, Satoru’s. In the beginning, you spent the night every now and then. But the relationship was just so intense, quickly escalating to spending the night, every night. Eventually you both figured it was just better you moved in, so you wouldn’t have to travel in between places for small necessities. As time went on, your stuff and decor brought new life to the place, something he had wanted for a long time but never taken the time to do. But now every trace of your time in his apartment was erased and he couldn’t stand being there.

“She’s not telling me anything, Satoru,” Suguru sighed as he was continuously begging him to spill whatever he had heard from you. Throughout your relationship, it was only natural for you to get to know his friends. Therefore, Suguru had reached out to you once he learned what had happened. But much to Satoru’s dismay, you gave short replies, only answering out of pure politeness.

“She’s a chatty person, I find it hard to believe she’s sending you one-word texts.”

With a sigh, Suguru threw his phone at him, taking Satoru by surprise. “Have a look for yourself.” Suguru didn’t have to ask him twice as he instantly entered the texts exchanged between the two of you. Not only did you answer shortly, but you took your sweet time sending any form of reply. But once he saw the last message he had received from you was yesterday, his heart did a small jump. It was the first sign he’d seen himself that you were even alive.

y/n: doing fine. hope you have a nice weekend too :)

His eyes kept staring at the small screen, fighting the urge to start typing anything just to be in contact with you. After a while, he reluctantly handed the phone back to Suguru.

“Happy now?” Suguru asked, earning him a cold glare from Satoru. “If I’m gonna be honest, I thought the two of you had been having issues for a while.” His glare instantly softened and his entire demeanour had changed into one of pure sadness.

“Come again?”

“You can’t be serious, Satoru?” Suguru asked tauntingly, his voice dripping with disappointment. “You hate work. I thought the first time you volunteered to stay after a meeting, you guys had been fighting and you were just being petty.”

“I’m not petty,” Satoru raced to defend himself.

“That’s beside the point!” Suguru said, rolling his eyes. “You know how you can get. I thought you just wanted to piss her off, but it kept happening. I tried asking you about it, but you just brushed it off every time.”

“I’m telling you, we were fine. There were no issues!”

“You keep saying that, but something changed. Satoru, do you remember the last time Shoko or I begged you to shut up about her?” Now that Suguru mentioned it, Satoru began to think about what Suguru had said and realised he was making a point.

He felt as if his heart was breaking all over again, to hear how even his friends had managed to pick up on his blatant disregard for his girlfriend, but it had managed to slip right by him. And because of that, the image of you, choked with tears because of him was forever burned into his mind.

“I just really want her back!” He stuttered, clearly in despair which caught Suguru off guard. For all the times Satoru had explained the situation to his friends, he had never really let his emotions show to anyone. He kept all that locked up until he was sound in his bed, when he couldn’t keep it together anymore. Nearly every night since you’d left, he fell asleep crying.

“It’s not like you deserve it.”

Satoru scoffed. “I never meant for this to happen, Suguru." He really didn’t appreciate his closest friend going against him on the matter, even though he was fully aware it was what he deserved.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” his friend shrugged. “But it did. This is the bed you made, it’s time you lay in it.” Every word that left Suguru’s mouth was entirely true, and Satoru hated himself for it. Ever since he last saw you, he had tried to convince himself this wasn’t his fault, that there was no way for him to have seen this coming. But every time he went down that road, he came to the same conclusion that he could have avoided it a hundred times over.

Satoru was definitely blaming himself enough, to the point where he was in no mood to sit there and listen to his friend spew statements of how badly he screwed up, so he got up from his seat and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t even bother answering Suguru, as he slammed the door behind him as he left.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It had been the longest and most dreadful 35 days of your life. Luckily, your friend had been kind enough to open her home to you and put absolutely no pressure for you to leave anytime soon.

She’d been asleep when you came banging on her door in the middle of the night, extremely confused at first when you had just collapsed into a bundle of sobs on her living room floor. Once she’d wiped the sleep out of her eyes, she had managed to decipher your broken words into a coherent narrative about how you and Satoru had broken up.

The first week was definitely the worst, huddled up on her couch in a blanket, only getting up to go to the bathroom. She had provided you with whatever you needed; ice cream, movies and takeout. You name it, and she brought it.

You were thankful she’d just let you have some time to be a complete mess before being forced to deal with life again. So after the first week, she started to pull you out of you comfort zone in order for you to start a healing process. At first, she just had you help her cook dinner, then she brought you along to shop for groceries. Before you knew it, you found yourself doing your makeup again which seemed like a huge step. Finally you were putting in some effort in making yourself feel a little better. It felt like a breath of fresh air when you returned to a form of normalcy.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less. In the moments you found yourself thinking about your relationship — past relationship — the sadness struck you all over again, and it didn’t seem like it would fade away just yet. But it had at least become manageable, and it was nice falling asleep without sobbing to the point where you couldn’t breathe.

Finally, your progress had resulted in the first social outing since the breakup. Your friend had been invited to a barbecue, and she had begged for you to join her. After some convincing, you decided it would actually be nice to go out and meet some people and regain some of the social life you had lost.

That’s how you found yourself in the grocery store, trying to find anything to bring to the barbecue, not wanting to come empty handed. You stopped your search when you felt a pair of eyes staring at you. Turning to face the person, you immediately froze, your breath hitching in your throat.

A few feet from you, Satoru was standing, his mouth slightly hanging open. You felt your heart begin to race, banging against your chest like a hummingbird.

Time stood still as you both stared at each other, wondering who would be the one to break the ice first. Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, you tightened your grip to contain the overwhelming feelings filling your body.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“You didn’t see his face, y/n. I mean, he has never been embarrassed like that before,” Satoru laughed. He had his arm tossed over your shoulders, while your arm was wrapped around his waist, stumbling down the deserted street. It was definitely not unlike the two of you to leave a party early, as you both much more preferred only each others company.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” You whined. “I would have loved to see a girl get Suguru all flustered.”

“I mean, she was hot too. Way out of his league.” With the hand resting in his waist, you pinched hard.

“Watch it mister!” You growled, but in reality you were chocking back the drunk giggle that was bubbling up inside you. “If she was so hot, why don’t you go see if she wants to join you for the night.” You shrugged his arm off your shoulders, and released your grip on him. However, he was quick to grab ahold of your hand again and pulled you towards him so you collided with his chest.

“Oh, don’t be like that, pretty girl.” His voice was teasing you, clearly not taking your fake anger seriously. He wrapped one arm around your waist, making it impossible for you to pull away. The other hand grabbed your face before he began to place a bunch of kisses all over your face.

“Satoru!” You squealed in between giggles. Pressing your hands against his chest, you tried to push him away and get out of his grip, but to no prevail.

“What? You don’t want my kisses?” He pouted, loosening his grip, but you remained close to him. “Maybe that girl is interested in them instead?.” His eyes were so soft as he looked down on you, a small genuine smile dancing on his lips. Even with his playful attitude, you had zero concern he would even consider going back to her.

“You’re a funny guy, aren’t you?” You hooked your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes leaning in closer.

“I think I'm hilarious.” Your nose brushed against his, your lips only an inch apart. His hot breath touched your skin, and his eyes travel your face.

“What makes you think she’d even go for you, darling?” His head fell back in laughter, as you flashed him a huge grin, still hanging on around his neck.

“Suguru’s a handsome guy. If I were her-“

“Shut up,” Satoru cut you off before he finally connected his lips with yours in a sweet and passionate kiss. The butterflies went wild as you felt him smile into the kiss. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re the only girl I have eyes for.” He said after he reluctantly pulled away.

“Keep it that way,” you giggled before pulling him in for another kiss.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

It was strange to see him again, and a new sensation of melancholy entertained you. From the second you’d left his apartment, you began to picture what it would be like to see him again. You imagined you’d be struck with the same sorrow of that night, only thinking of how he had been unable to provide for your needs. But you found yourself only thinking of the good memories you had shared with him. Every sweet affirmation, every gentle touch, just in general the time spent together.

“Hi,” you croaked, observing how his body was brought back to reality at the sound of your voice. He took a few steps closer and removed his signature sunglasses. Seeing his captivating eyes in person for the first time in so long made you tighten the grip around yourself even more, if that was even possible.

“Hey.” His voice didn’t have the same unease as yours, but it was visible on his stance he wasn’t as confident as he usually was. “What brings you here?”

“To the grocery store?”

“Yeah, what brings you to the grocery store?” Satoru repeated awkwardly, trying to play off his weak attempt to make small talk, his cheeks turning to a faded shade of pink.

“Well, I’m going to a barbecue party so just wanted to bring something.”

“Barbecue party. Fun!”

Seeing you again was overwhelming for him as well, and created a twinge of hurt within him. You looked so different from the last time he saw you. There was a hint of a glow in you he hadn’t seen in a long time, and it hit him again that he was the one who had smothered that glow in you in the first place.

Satoru knew he couldn’t continue to lie to himself much longer, and seeing you again was what made him realise that. Right now, looking at you wearing a cute summer dress, looking absolutely stunning, he saw the extreme contrast in your person compared to a month ago. He finally had a clear visual of how his ignorance had truly damaged you, when time away from him had brought a new form of life into you.

What was even worse, was how he could still see the love you had for him in your eyes. From the moment you had gotten together, one could never have doubted the fact that you loved Satoru Gojo. And you’re unwavering love for him had made him feel so safe and seen, like he’d never experienced before. Which was probably the reason he’d let everything get to this point. He knew your feelings for him wouldn’t change if he stayed late a few times, because you never hesitated to show your affection. He just took it for granted he did the same. To him, it wasn’t a question if he was entirely devoted to you, since he was so adamant that he was willing to do absolutely anything for you. He just sort of figured he had given you the same reassurance he’d received. But looking back, he could clearly see that wasn’t the case.

“I hope it’ll be,” you said with a weak smile and his heart fluttered instantly.

“I thought you weren’t big on barbecues though,” he dared chuckle a little.

“I'm not, but figured it was a good opportunity to meet some people.”

He so wanted to reach out his hand and cup your soft cheek, slowly stroking his thumb while his other hand intertwined with yours.

“How are you?” He blurted out, asking the question he had dreaded the answer to.

“Well, I’ve been better,” you stuttered. “But getting there I suppose. Taking it one day at a time. You?”

Whatever dumb thing he thought of answering, trying to conceal how broken he had been the past month, would do no good as you would see right through him. He simply shrugged, which was received by a compassionate, yet sad smile from you.

“You look great, by the way,” he gestured towards you, causing you to blush.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not able to peer your eyes off of him. He was still as gorgeous as ever, but he didn’t look the same. He clearly wasn’t sleeping well, dark circles under his eyes. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t eating well either. But his snow white hair fell the same way, and his eyes looked at you the way they always did. “I have to get going.”

“Wait-“ Satoru quickly interjected, stepping closer again so he was only standing two feet away from you. “Would you like to grab coffee or something sometime?” He sounded so unbelievably innocent, almost like a child as he made his suggestion. He anxiously waited for your answer, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Gojo.” He flinched ever so slightly at the use of his last name, something you’d never done in the span of your relationship. It created a new distance between the two of you that felt untouchable.

“Don’t you think we could both benefit from talking about everything? I mean, things ended very abruptly-“ he quickly shut up when your friend joined your side, pure fury written all over her.

His posture changed, immediately portraying more confident. He seemed now like the Satoru everyone knew, but you saw through his façade.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than torture this poor girl?”

“We were simply chatting.” Satoru tried to play it cool by flashing your friend a smug grin, but it only seemed to fuel the fire.

“Suddenly have time for her now?” He squinted at her comment, knowing it was more than called for. It didn’t stop the urge he had to fire back at her. “Hope your job promotes you, so it’s all worth it at least.”

“I don’t see how this concerns you,” he replied, trying to keep a considerate tone, but you knew better than to think it was genuine.

“It concerns me when she’s absolutely inconsolable, bawling her eyes out in my apartment.” Your friend didn’t need to go into further detail for him to get a pretty clear picture of the scene. He had, after all, been unfortunate enough to witness it himself.

“I just want a few words with y/n alone,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. Your friend was about to continue to argue, but you placed a hand on her shoulder, signaling for her to put down her pitchfork.

“It’s okay,” you took a deep breath. “Just wait by the register and I’ll be with you shortly.” She gave one last stern look in Satoru’s direction before doing as you requested.

Looking at Satoru, his cocky expression had disappeared the second your friend had turned a corner. It felt so bittersweet, seeing the kind person you knew inside out, standing before you so fragile. Old habits die hard, and you felt yourself fighting the urge to stroke his cheek and comfort him.

“Y/n, I just feel like there is a lot of stuff that we’ve left unsaid.” His calm, cool and collected manner had been thrown out the window and he resembled himself the evening of the breakup. “I never got to say my piece or apologise properly.”

“I know,” was all you said, using every fiber of your body to seem levelheaded. You observed how he constantly tried to reach out for you, but stopped himself every time out of respect.

“Believe me when I say, I truly am sorry. I’ve never regretted anything more.”

“I know,” you repeated, same calm tone.

“Maybe it would give us a chance to heal properly if everything is out in the open. So we both know exactly what the other is thinking.”

“Gojo-“

“No, please, listen. I know I messed up and I really want to fix this!” He rambled on, his desperation resembling the one from that night

“Gojo-“

“Maybe even there’s a chance for us-“

“Satoru,” you said sternly, finally silencing his tangent. Your eyes flickered between his as you saw him trying to find the focus to calm his breathing. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You saw the heartbreak wash over him, his shoulders falling in disappointment as he whispered your name. You’d missed hearing him speak it with such tender care.

“I am finally starting to get back on track. I’ve even started looking for an apartment,” you said with a sad chuckle. You wanted to show him, and yourself, that you had gotten to the point that you could at least manage to not completely breakdown when you were out in public. “I stand by what I said that night.”

“And you should! You deserve to be loved, and I can be that person. I am that person! There has never been a moment where I haven’t loved you.”

“Satoru, stop it.” You raised your voice slightly. “This is not the time or place for this.” It seemed as it wasn’t until now he was reminded of where you were standing. You gathered up the courage and walked up to him, carefully placing your hand on his cheek. The second you felt his cheek against your hand, you felt as if your skin was on fire.

Satoru didn't hesitate eitherm to place his big hand over yours as hea leaned into your touch. His eyes became glossy, realising how much he had craved feeling your skin against him again. “I just think I need to be the most important person in my life for a while.” He slowly began to nod in agreement, and you heard his breath began to quicken like it had done previously.

He licked his lips, trying to find his words. “See you around then?” His voice was unsteady and his chin quivered.

“Yeah, probably,” you spoke sadly. You let your hand fall from his face, but he held onto your hand until you were too far away. In a way, it felt as if both of you were aware that your story wasn’t over just yet. Satoru was right, there was a lot of stuff still left out in the open which made you believe there were still chapters to be written, whether they were good or bad. But it brought you some form of comfort.

Drying the single tear that had fallen from your eye, you turned away and began to walk away. “You look beautiful, darling,” he said, making your head turn one last time. You gave him a sad smile before he disappeared out of view.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

tags: @alisstaa

a/n: oh my, thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on part one. it is greatly appreciated and really motivates me to write. that being said, i am not as happy with part two as part one but i rewrote it like two times and i guess it's alright. its more important you like it rather than i. hope you guys like it, and again thank you guys so so much for the feedback. reblogs, comments are greatly valued

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writingwithfolklore · 1 day

Text

Making the Most out of your First Draft

As someone who used to write every first draft without planning and then use that to figure out characters and outlines, I have a lot of experience in first drafts that are incredibly helpful to forming an actual story, and drafts that don’t add much.

So here’s how to make the most out of your first draft:

1. Write what doesn’t make sense

One of the most helpful first drafts I ever wrote abandoned plotlines and started new ones as though they had existed all along like several times. It was also the longest draft I had ever written because I had packed so many ideas into it. The reason why this is helpful is because you can test out what a plot point will look like in the middle or even end of your story without having to go back to the same beginning again and again.

It doesn’t need to make sense, just try things out. Disappear characters who don’t work, add a best friend near the end that acts like they’ve been there the entire time, whatever idea you’re interested in you can try out without worrying too much about what makes sense or what you’d need in place to set it up. It's like literally stream of consciousness writing, and you're going to learn so much more about your world, plot, and characters than trying to make it make sense.

2. Write poorly

I spent a lot of that first draft having characters monologue to themselves or each other about their interests and problems and lives which allowed me to explore their backstories and voice even if that’s not something I would do in a final draft. I had the wackiest plot points to see how my characters would react, what would happen to the plot, and if I didn’t like it I would keep going like nothing had happened, I did a lot of yadda-yaddaing over worldbuilding and setting the scenes and making up things on the spot to see if they’d stick, skipping sometimes to the interesting stuff, or adding in a random scene just for fun.

It doesn’t have to be good. Even a little bit. You’re learning about your world and your characters and the story you want to tell, but you aren’t writing it yet. Allow it to be the worst thing you’ve ever written.

3. Make notes on what you like

As you go through and throw spaghetti at the wall (figuratively speaking), make notes on the things that stick. If you write a line of dialogue you really like, or a piece of backstory or even a vibe, make sure to make a note of it somewhere. This will help you narrow down your ideas to what you want to keep when you start writing your story. And if you’re like me and you want to outline or plan your subsequent drafts, these notes will be invaluable to start forming your planning.

Anything else I missed?

#writing #creative writing #writers #writing community #screenwriting #writing inspiration #books #filmmaking #film #writing advice #first draft #making the most out of your first draft #pantsing #pantser #writers on tumblr

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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days

Note

your posts about Tim being the parent in his time with Bruce+ Richard's parentification + Tim always planning of being a placeholder, got me thinking

What if Tim started off like that, playing parent for Bruce, ensuring he doesn't cross any lines or overworks himself

And just never stop?

His civilian life is starting to crack, and he's doing worse than he could be, but Batman has to be taken care off

In comes Jason who tries to kill him (great another Bruce) so his workload is doubled, and also Damian who has to be untaught murder

Well it's an escalation of what he's used to, but if he can deal with Batman, he can deal with his kids, time to bust out the books on therapy and deprogramming cult teachings

Besides, he's a placeholding for the two of them until they're better like Batman, so who better to teach them the ropes than him?

Let's toss in comments here and there that will clear misunderstandings between the Bats (excluding himself— he's temporary) and what about their interactions keeps the family apart

Like boy is neglecting himself to high hell, only stopping when it's literally impossible, and barely has a civilian life, but it's worth it for Gotham's betterment and the Batfamily's stabilization

Timestream? Well shit, he has to get Bruce back as per his job of keeping the family in order but the family is either not getting better or worse,

Let him just leave a bunch of personalized self-help guides and programmed schedules that'll ensure the bats are getting better while he's away

Oh hey Ra's, midn if I secretly learn everything about how Damian grew up in this fine League of yours so I can teach Damian what is so wrong about his childhood once I'm home?

So everything is getting better post BruceQuest, Richard can be a brother more (because Tim took on his job as parent-brother), Damian and his family are able to bond and understand each other (because Tim untaught an awful upbringing) and Jason feels like a member of the family (because Tim got Jason up to speed with how much he has always been loved) plus Bruce gets to be a father with his kids (because Tim kept the man out of his otherside inevitable self-made grave)

And say Batfamily, in a miracle of communication, realize that Tim has subsumed Bruce's role as caretaker and father

Not to the entire family of course, but even parenting for one sibling or parent as a kid yourself is one too many

And they remember all the comments Tim said to help the family get better subtly suggesting everybody but Tim is family

Like he's said "Your family," never "Our"

He says "You're a Wayne, a member of their family,"

He has to be referred to as Tim and Drake, never Wayne to catch his attention

And also imagine Richard saying "You can't keep being a parent to your brothers and father" and Tim going "glass houses, *tires to parent Rich*"

"NO—"

The shit storm that would happen if the batfamily realized that Tim donned Robin with the intention of always playing parent for Bruce, and then leaving once his intervention isn't need anymore

Yes! I absolutely love the ideas you incorporated with this. I didn't manage to hit all of them in my post, but I tried to expand upon them a bit:

At first, Tim wouldn't realize that's what he's doing. He just wants to help Bruce (even if that includes taking away the Batmobile keys, locking him out of the batcomputer, and using a rewards system when the man successfully takes care of his wounds).

Tim only comes to the realization that he's Bruce's parent when the YJ are being lectured by their mentors. At this point, the team has done far more dangerous stunts and missions than whatever the JL was lecturing them about. When the mentors come, Robin allows Batman to lecture him in front of the others. Tim knows they have to keep up appearances and can listen to a hypocritical discussion from Bruce to maintain the image of Batman Tim has spent so much time propping up.

After the other mentors leave, Tim pulls Batman into a private room for a chat. Bart, fearing that Robin is getting a second lecture, almost bursts in to save Tim. He's slowed down by the glare Tim sends his way. He's stopped by the conversation he overhears.

Tim, with his hands on his hips as he glares up into the cowl, lectures Bruce on all the behavior issues the man displayed the month that the YJ were away.

Bruce is just standing there, head slightly hung, as Tim goes on.

"This is why I feel I can never get away, B. I can't even leave you for a month before your excessive force statistics skyrocket! What am I supposed to do with you?"

Bart quickly leaves as he has a mental breakdown at this discovery. Two hours later, when Batman leaves, Bart asks Robin if he's Batman's father. Tim laughs it off at first, but after Bart lays out the evidence, Tim spirals for a few days at this discovery.

Once Tim accepts that he *is* like Bruce's dad, he decides to just embrace it. He and Alfred can share custody of the man-child (and this is also why Tim has the view of family that he does. His three examples of being a father are his own dad who constantly leaves, Alfred who maintains a professional distance, and Bruce who's his grieving son). Tim sees Dick as his brother, but he sees Bruce as his kid. It's confusing as hell, complicated, and Tim also doesn't see himself as part of the family at the same time.

While the teen is finally settling into his role as Bruce's parent, Jason comes back and tries to kill him. He doesn't know whether or not to laugh that Jason becomes his new responsibility at the same place Bruce officially (in Tim's mind) became Tim's.

The teen treats Jason similar to a grandson and son. He parents Bruce on how to interact with Jason, takes a few college classes and reads a few textbooks on PTSD, and interrogates LoA agents on the Pit. He slowly starts to feed them both phrases and perspectives so that they understand and interact with each other better. He almost wants to hit them both upside the head for their miscommunication.

It's not great, and Tim is so fucking tired, but they are getting closer to being a family. Tim can almost taste his retirement.

Then Damian comes into the family and tries to kill him. Tim wants to scream.

Damian isn't exactly friendly to Tim, but the teen spots a breakthrough when he catches how Dick and Damian interact. He, in what he later calls foolishly, drops some of the weight onto Dick's shoulders. Tim's tired trying to wrangle both Jason and Bruce into somewhat, even unhealthily, communicating with each other.

Then Bruce dies. It's unfair because Tim has lost someone who's both his son and his father to him. No one except Cassie could know about the amount of grief Tim is under because of that. Cassie, who Tim isn't talking to after the whole basement scientist cloning thing.

So, Tim finds evidence that Bruce is alive. He watches as Dick cracks under the weight of Batman and being a father to Damian. He's hurt (oh gods does it burn to lose his self-made but suffocating role that ties him to Bruce), but he understands why Dick gives Damian Robin.

Tim leaves, and he starts to discover himself. He became an adoptive father at thirteen. For once, even though he's heavily lost in the thralls of grief, he's free of that responsibility. He only has to take care of himself (an exhausting task he's never quite accomplished before) and he doesn't rely on anyone.

Still, despite his freedom, he sees Ra's offer for what it is. It's an opportunity to learn more about Damian. Bruce will need Tim's support when he returns, after all. If he takes down Ra's both for himself and Damian, that's neither here nor there.

When Bruce finally returns home, Tim starts to see his retirement again. He sees the progress he's enacting out of the family in all of their relationships. Like Tim's messy relationship with Bruce, Dick is both a father and brother to Damian. Jason and Bruce will occasionally meet at a diner. Damian and Bruce will have father-child outings outside of Batman and Robin. Cass returns home more often. Steph barges into the Manor for food or bugs different Bats on patrol. Babs is able to take time for herself outside of wrangling the Bats together. Duke is starting to join the family, but Tim doesn't imagine too much tension or difficulty with that transition. They'll be fine without him.

It's looking up. Tim can leave behind his the Wayne family.

Then Damian points out how Tim often uses "your" or "their" instead of "our" family.

Godsdamnit.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #thank you for the ask!!!!#your ask has so many good ideas thank you!

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missvelvetsstuff · 3 days

Text

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height

Here goes nothing

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.

Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.

The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.

Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.

She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.

Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.

Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.

She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.

When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.

"Morning Buck. Good run?"

He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"

"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"

Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."

Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"

He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.

Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.

"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."

His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.

She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."

Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"

She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"

She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.

He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."

She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."

"Wait doll. I-"

"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.

Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.

**Flashback**

Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.

She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.

She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.

Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."

Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"

Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.

Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."

She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.

Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.

**end flashback**

The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.

There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.

They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.

"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."

Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."

Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"

Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."

Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."

He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.

Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.

When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.

Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.

For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.

Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.

Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.

Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.

Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.

Y/N heard banging

"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"

There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.

A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"

Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.

The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."

The call disconnected.

Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.

Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."

Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."

15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."

Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."

Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."

Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.

Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......

Sharon fucking Carter.

Chapter 2

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #no benefits #bucky barnes x sharon carter

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bluerthanvelvet444 · 2 days

Text

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

(Peter Maximoff x fem!reader)

tags: sfw and nsfw.

warnings: none.

character count: 7k.

this was a request!

ᯓ★⋆𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡⁀➷

He LOVES playing games with you.

Peter was often bored, being locked in his mother’s basement led to doing the same things over and over again. This is why he loved playing games with you, no matter if they were board games or card ones, he was utterly fond of the idea of games ending in many different ways and sometimes taking different turns, never knowing if a game could last minutes or hours. He would throw game nights with candies and junk food. He really liked playing Cluedo, especially roleplaying the whole thing, he would get SO into the character, many times taking it personally when he was accused of being the murderer, always doing accents and creating a whole backstory (even if not needed). He believed it was “funnier” this way…but really, he was just a dork by nature. He enjoyed Monopoly too, although getting into the character in this game would often lead to him getting SO mad when things started to go bad for him. He claimed he was “the best gamer of all times” but in reality was actually pretty bad, especially with strategy games since he tended to act impulsively without logic. Many times you had to let him win to avoid cocky tantrums and just getting his ego hurt.

He is constantly spoiling you with gifts.

His main goal in life was owning the "Twinkie" company being the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. So whatever you desired, he gave you.

“Look how cute this is Pet-” You started while pointing at the picture of what you wanted, and before you knew it, Peter left your room at the highest of speeds just to come back in the blink of an eye with the thing you were just talking about in his hands.

“Gotcha.” He winked with a cute smirk.

“Peter! You didn’t have to. You probably spent so much for this…” You said, feeling guilty.

“Who said I paid for it?”

He takes you anywhere you want.

You mentioned wanting to go to the beach? He took you there in no time, not even letting you put your swimsuit on.

You dreamed of going to Paris? Sweep. Two seconds and you were taking a picture under the Tour Eiffel while he was holding a baguette and had a fake mustache on.

In the little time you started dating him, you already visited more places than you did in your entire life, and your bedroom was full of polaroids of you two around the world. This counts for concerts and other things too. He’s basically a free VIP pass.

He always matches your mood.

If you wanted to go to the cinema and watch a movie, he would sneak you two in the theater, stealing popcorn and all types of soda.

If you wanted to party hard and just forget about everything for a night, he would throw the BIGGEST party in the x-men’s mansion, just for you.

If you wanted to stay home and relax, he would grab a comfy blanket and a few snacks, cuddling up against you. Either spooning you or being spooned.

He hypes you up no matter what, he’s your biggest fan.

You were out shopping with Peter, so you took the chance to try some dresses on. You were in the changing room, looking at your body in the mirror. Many thoughts were flowing in your head, you didn’t know if you liked or hated it. Peter slightly peeked from the curtain.

“Babe are ya don- HOLY SHIT!” His eyes widened at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” You asked while still looking in the mirror.

“Like it? Ya asking me if I- if I like it?! Are ya out of yer mind?! I dont like it! I love it!” He opened wide the whole curtain.

“Mh…I don’t know if this really fits m-” You were cut off by Peter suddenly grabbing your shoulders.

“Fits you?! FITS YA?! Babe.Ya need to get this right now. It was made for you- Holy shit! It looks like it was tailored to you!” He grinned widely.

“i don’t kno-Peter!” You exclaimed as he picked you up in his arms.

“YER STUNNING. Gorgeous! Breathtaking! Damn! Yer really my girl? I’m the luckiest bastard in the world!” He carried you in his arms out of the changing room.

“SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! HEY YOU! YES! SHE’S MY GIRLFRIEND! I’M THE LUCKIEST BASTARD IN THE WORLD! WHOOOOO!” He shouted excitedly to the whole store while you covered your burning cheeks and begged him to stop.

He likes watching you put on your makeup, occasionally attempting to put it on you, too.

His tongue poked out of his mouth as he tried to blend the foundation on your skin.

“Why’s this taking so long?!” He huffed.

“Peter, that’s an eyeshadow brush.”

“Oh.”

ᯓ★⋆˚𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

He’s horny 24/7.

Because of his speedster genes everything his body did was faster than normal. It was sooo easy to get him hard. You could’ve been either provoking him or doing nothing.

You were laying on the bed, your boyfriend spooning you from behind. You pressed your back against him, earning a groan from him. Thinking you accidentally hurt him, you turned to face him, just to find a visible grown bulge in his pants.

“I barely touched you…” You teased.

“S’the speedster genes…” He whined.

He’s such a switch.

You were sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. His fingers slipping in and out of your entrance with unholy sounds.

“Mh…Just like that, babe…takin’ it so well…” He purred in your ear, causing loud moans to slip out of you. He kept speeding his fingers more and more, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Not wanting to finish alone, you suddenly changed positions, straddling him and stroking his length from his pants.

“A-ah…please babe…” He was already a subby mess under you, whining and begging you for more.

He’s open to all types of sex with you.

Fast? His name is quickie for a reason, his body will be blurred by how fast he will be.

Slow? Mhh…It will be torture for him but, sure, anything to pleasure you.

Loving? He could be hugging you from behind, gently thrusting in you and whispering sweet words and moans in your ear.

Rough? Absolutely. He’ll have you screaming his name as loud as possible. Oh, and prepare for a loooong night, the speedster genes help a lot with his sex drive.

No toys!

One thing he will never accept is you using sex toys. Why on earth would you use a miserable piece of plastic to please yourself when you have him?

He can be a vibrator, a dildo…everything! And a good one too. Whenever you need to feel good, just give him a call! He will drop everything just to have fun with you. Don’t tell Professor X that.

Quickies in public are more common than you think.

With him being always horny, he often found himself staring at you for longer than usual, which sent heat waves straight to his core, even in public.

“Babe…” He started with whispering your name in your ear, his body pressing against yours from behind.

“I need you…” He whined, subtly rubbing his hard-on against your ass. You questioned him, reminding him that you were in public.

He quickly brought you inside a public bathroom. His hands desperately grabbing your body.

“Please…I’ll be quick…” He groaned against your neck, sucking the skin gently. As soon as you agreed, you found yourself pressed up against a wall and his clothes immediately coming off.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @marchsfreakshow @dangeroustaintedflawed @yandereunsolved @newwavesylviaplath @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind

a/n: hiiii!!! my first headcanonssss...tried to put more dorky canon peter. hope you like them!!🩶🩶

#peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #x men #x men apocalypse #quicksilver #evan peters #american horror story #tate langdon #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #kyle spencer #violet harmon #james patrick march #kai anderson #taissa farmiga #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs coven

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aireia · 1 day

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Oh universe! — What happens when you fall in love with the vice president of the student council?

tw/cw: gn! reader, fluff + crack(?). gojo's an idiot. not proofread + rushed. author is stupidly sick, fic makes zero sense.

note: don't expect too much from this fic D: —masterlist

The universe has a love-hate relationship with Satoru. No, screw that, it’s against Satoru Gojo. It’s against his relationship between him and the person standing beside him in the student council room, because he can no longer count how many times he’s tried to confess to you, and gotten interrupted by another student pulling you or him away.

Now, he knows both of you are busy as leaders in the student council, and he’s fairly popular too, but that doesn’t have any business to meddle with his love life! Especially because he’s also lost track of how much money he’s spent on these failed confessions – excluding the tubs of ice cream he buys after each one to comfort himself. (Suguru and Shoko have to take some away from him to prevent him from eating that much sugar.)

“How many is that?” Suguru asked his brunette friend as they both stared out the window at the scene of you being dragged away by students while Satoru sighed in defeat. “I dunno, sixth? Maybe seventh? We just need to make sure he doesn’t eat enough desserts to get himself sick. Y/n told me something about a meeting they would be having tomorrow about our graduation trip.” “Just bribe him with the fact that they’re going to be there. He’ll be sure to return back to whatever he’s on before all the confessions.”

“Really?!” Satoru’s eyes lit up right before he managed to grab the 2nd tub of strawberry ice cream. “...Are you really the president of the student council? How do you not know about this?” “I was only focusing on y/n when they said the news.”

That caused both his friends’ faces to contort into disgust. Maybe they shouldn’t have told him and let him miss the meeting instead, but you’d probably be kind enough to find him before the meeting and drag him there.

“A trip to the mountains…” you mumbled to yourself as you scanned through the papers that were handed out during the meeting. You had been assigned to take care of accommodations. Satoru, on the other hand, was devastated . He had been assigned to take care of the food. No doubt all of you would be getting kikufuku for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for three days straight.

That would’ve been the case, if he didn’t drag you to multiple cafes to plan the trip. Granted, he did treat you to a lot of your favourite snacks and drinks, so going out with him wasn’t that bad.

The both of you sat in silence most of the time, surprisingly. Sometimes the snowy haired male would sneak in some small talk, but the only time you spoke half the time would be for each other’s opinions. Satoru tried to get you to agree to the worst diets you’ve seen in your entire life. You rejected.

You tried to propose a few spots to stay in. and Satoru agreed to most of them, though you scrapped your own ideas just moments after he agreed.

You breathed out through your mouth, watching as puffs of smoke escaped your lips. You were standing on the balcony of your room. Staring at the city you call home from the mountains.

“There you are.” Someone draped a blanket over your trembling body. It’s Satoru, you noted. You could recognise his voice even in a room full of people. “You made a good choice choosing this place. The view is pretty.” Satoru sang words of praise to you, joining you on the balcony.

“Thank you,” you responded, not bothering to look at him. A long period of silence ensued between the both of you, and Satoru found it to be torture. You’re alone, right? That means he can confess. But how? He looks at your lips. They’re trembling from the cold.

“Your lips look cold. Do you think I could warm them up for you?” his words spilled out before he processed it. You looked at him weirdly before laughing.

“Is that… How you confess to people?” you continued to laugh, and it reminded him of the first breeze of spring. Playful, calm, refreshing from the cold from winter. Once he realised what he had said, he choked on air and stuttered out, “It’s not! I swear it’s just–” Satoru tried to find the words to explain himself, his head now working overtime to search for the vocabulary that left his mind when these types of situations happened.

You grinned and cupped his cheeks before pulling him down to gently kiss him, only pulling away once the both of you had relaxed. You couldn’t help but smile at the dust of pink on his face. You were sure there were some on your cheeks too.

“Yea, it is warmer now.”

Maybe the universe isn’t all that against him after all.

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

#signed by aireia!#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #ju #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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satyricplotter · 2 days

Text

pairing: dick grayson x reader

word count: 3.2k (i think?)

warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)

notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol

something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.

nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?

this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)

regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.

you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.

obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.

you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.

you still crush on him.

it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.

through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?

he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.

at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.

this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.

you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.

you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.

your alarm beeps.

“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”

dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.

it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.

“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.

“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”

“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”

“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”

“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”

dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened. for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.

such is not the case now.

you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.

the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.

when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.

“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”

oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.

you swallow. “dick—”

“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”

you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.

“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.

“yes!” he beams. “we are.”

“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”

“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”

“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.

it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.

it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.

that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.

you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.

god, you’re such an asshole.

in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.

not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films? he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.

you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.

sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.

one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.

he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.

he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.

not so much for you.

“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.

for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.

you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.

and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.

you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.

the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.

lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.

you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.

“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”

a glimpse of a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.

you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.

that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.

you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else. in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.

that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.

the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.

you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.

I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.

that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dc imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #not that the night life features as anything other than a mention #anyway for those in the know.... this is the chundan 'i like you because you don't have expectations of me'/'im never gonna like ycy' scene #except set up a little differently given there's no isekai happening here #satplotdb

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purpleyoonn · 3 days

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The Line Between Love and War 12

C H A P T E R 1 2: PTD D1 AND OVERSTIMULATION

“It is said that the night sky is made up of tiny wishes that humans were never able to fulfill. That the stars only became bright by the fulfillment of those wishes. In your eyes, the stars that shine never seemed real, your childhood wishes dark and dim as you grow. But now, now you understand the twinkle in their eyes as they look down at you.”

Summary: Your experiences told you that soulmates were something you would never have the pleasure of having; something not given to you because of who you are, despite the soulmark that resides on your inner left wrist. During your solo trip to Los Angeles, you find out that you are more than capable, that your soulmates had been waiting for you for a long time, and would not be letting you go anytime soon.

Genre: soulmate au, bts au, idol bts, polyamory relationship, eventual smut

Paring: Idol!BTS x autistic!mc

Status: Ongoing (randomly updated)

Warnings: mental illness, talk of disability, lots of angst, miscommunication, feelings of depression, feelings of isolation, polyamory bts, stalking, dangerous behavior, eventual smut,

Chapter Warnings: the concert, overstimulation, shut downs, not much, lots of feelings,

Taglist: @azazel-nyx @yuzon3 @hannahdinse8 @quirkybtsarmy @mageprincess7 @fluffy-canada-pancakes @suckerforv @chaoticthingpizza @drissteele @carolinexkpop @avadakadabra93 @lachimolala22019 @justaweird0 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @toughbook @kimana122 @kpopmultistantrashsstuff @0funsite0 @joyless-living @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @elliott-calls @psychosupernatural

Masterlist // Chapter 11 // Chapter 13

————————————————–

Previously on The Line Between Love and War:

“Alright then. We well let Sejin and Seungho know. For now, I would appreciate if I could have some pre-concert kisses from my littlest mate.” Namjoon reached his arms out, pouting his lip a little knowing it would cause you to laugh at him.

You struggle to get yourself out of Hobi and Taehyung’s embrace, who noticeably tightened their grip once Namjoon opened his arms.

“Heyyyy, not nice!” You whine, finally pulling yourself away and falling into Namjoon’s arms.

“But we want pre-concert kisses too!” Taehyung whined back, making you laugh again, hiding your face in Namjoon’s neck.

You could already hear Army beginning to enter the arena, voices and screams echoing as the pre-concert videos started to play on the big screens. Taehyung was sitting with you, having finished getting ready first. He was in the middle of making sure you were okay being in the security gates in front of everyone else. He knew how loud noises made you feel.

“Don’t worry Tae! I’ve got the headphones that Yoongi gave me.” You smiled wide at him, hoping that would reassure your stressed-looking mate. It didn’t reassure him at all though. He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by Seungho.

“Come on, Y/n. We need to get you to your seat before the boys start.” Seungho gives Taehyung an apologetic glance and nod before he starts to lead you out of the room. But before you can leave, you turn around and quickly give each of the boys a hug, not wanting to kiss them in case it ruins the make up the make-up artists spent so long on.

“Good luck! I’m so excited!” You tell the last part to Seungho as you hold your hands up to your chest, your fists shaking in excitement.

You went from traveling about a week early to experience Los Angeles by yourself because you couldn’t get any tickets to now having seven soulmates and being able to attend not just one, but all four of the PTD La concerts. Your entire life literally changed at the blink of any eye, or well, more like running into a wall.

“This is your first concert, correct?” Seungho asked you, not remembering if you’ve attended anything before.

“Yes!” You exclaimed back, your fists still shaking as you make it to the stairs that will get you to the ground floor and into the security gates in front of the stage. There was a good maybe ten feet between the security gates for the floor seats and the stage where the boys would be performing.

Hobi explained it to you that you would have a seat in the section right in front of the edge of the stage, and that it wouldn’t be close to the floor seats where Army is seated.

They were worried to say the least. While they loved Army, and trusted them with you, they also knew there were some “fans” who were not happy that they found their last soulmate, and that it wasn’t any of them. They wanted you to be safe, which was why they wanted you up with their family in the box. Obviously, due to your fear of heights, they had to figure something else out, wanting you to experience their concert like an Army.

Seungho escorts you to the seat set aside but you don’t sit down, to excited and pumped up. You stood watching the stage, taking everything in. It seemed way different than it did earlier before sound check. The entire atmosphere was different. You could feel the energy and excitement of every single Army coming in and finding their seats. Some even running down to the 100’s section.

What caught your eye though was the people who had soundcheck coming back down to the floor section, all running towards you. You startled, Seungho moving directly in front of you once he caught the movement of the crowd. You held onto his arm before letting go just as quickly, not knowing if he was comfortable with your touch.

Despite your aversion to touch, you felt safe with him; you just didn’t know if he also had an aversion to touch and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

However, a single, subtle nod from him let you know your actions were okay, holding onto his arm again as you try to peak over or around his broad shoulders to see the group of Armies still running your way. You didn’t know if it was because you were directly in front of the stage or what, but seeing a group of men and women running towards you scared the crap out of you.

Now you understand how celebrities feel when fans spot them out and about, without security with them.

“Stay behind me please, Y/n.” Seungho told you, feeling you trying to peek around him. He had a feeling they were rushing for you, trying to get close to the barrier in front of you. He had been watching your social media, following the discussions and posts about you. You were well liked by a lot of people, and also not so liked by some. He didn’t know which it was coming for you tonight, and he didn’t like it.

You could hear your name being called; pictures being taken of you. It was weird and seemed a bit unreal, just like earlier when you did the Instagram live. You could feel some other members of the boys’ security team moving to help Seungho.

“Seungho, I think they are just excited. I don’t think they’ll hurt me. I have you to help protect me. Plus, there is about five feet between my seat and the barrier.” You were not going to lie, you were freaking out. But you didn’t want Seungho or the boys to have to worry about you the entire time, and if Seungho continued to try and hide you from Army, you knew that would happen.

He looked back at you, and seeing how serious you were, only moved a couple inches to the left, still in front of you but not necessarily hiding you. Taking a deep breath, and trying to hide your nervous stimming, you looked at Army.

“Hi guys! Please enjoy the concert! The boys have worked super hard and are so excited to see you guys again.” You spoke loudly, not wanting to yell in Seungho’s ears as he still stood close.

“Y/n! What song are you excited for?”

“Y/n! Have you completed the bond yet?”

“Who is your bias?”

You ignored the second question, and the others like it that were being yelled your way, instead, you tried to answer some of the questions, but didn’t want to make the night about yourself. This night was about the boys, not you.

“Please guys, the concert is about to start!” You decided to move back to your seat and not stand in front of the barrier anymore.

You were now actively stimming, your body trying to help you feel more comfortable with the attention and new experiences. Your fists were clenched in front of you, shaking fast back and forth. It was a stim you’ve been doing since you were a kid, something you did when you got really excited or happy. You tried not to, despite how much you needed to, because you always felt embarrassed when doing that particular stim. You had been made fun of before for doing it, so instead you rocked your body forwards and backwards slowly.

It took a couple more minutes before you could hear the intro starting, music slowly becoming louder until the boys came on stage from below. It also took the same amount of time for you to become completely overwhelmed and overstimulated. Despite your headphones, the music was loud and seemed to be louder than the screams behind you. The lights were flashing and the movement of the boys on stage had you practically shutting down. The stares you could feel on your back didn’t help, either.

You tried hard not to though, even though you know you needed it. Your boys needed this more. This was the first concert for them since the pandemic started and the went into the army. You knew they were happy being back on stage after so long and didn’t want to ruin anything for them. You wanted them to see you happy and not having any issues. You didn’t want them to worry.

You could feel the sting from your nails digging into your palm as you clenched your hands. Your voice gone as you tried to show some kind of emotion resembling happiness or awe on your face. You didn’t need Seungho trying to bring you back into the dressing room and alerting everyone that something was wrong.

So, you spent the rest of the concert rocking back and forth and mouthing along to all the songs the boys sang. Your nails were practically stuck in your palm and you were stuck in your head. You could tell the cord connecting your mouth and brain wasn’t connected anymore and didn’t know when it would again.

You just wanted Jungkook to hold you and rub your back again but figured you probably wouldn’t get that tonight. They would probably be too pumped up with adrenal after the concert to do anything other than want to celebrate with army like normal.

You could probably get away with cuddling up to Yoongi’s sweatshirt again as you laid in your shared bed. You didn’t want to bother them when they shared this excitement and happiness with army after so long. The last thing you wanted was to be a burden.

-*-*-

Despite being completely overstimulated, you thought the concert was amazing. You don’t think you would go to one again, but you could see why so many people always praised your soulmates’ concerts and performance skills.

You waited in the dressing room as the last notes of the last song play out throughout the stadium speakers. Seungho had thought it a safety issue to exit with the rest of army to try and make it backstage. So, he had taken you back during the second to last song.

You still haven’t spoken a word, and Seungho could tell something was wrong. Your facial expression was vacant and it seemed as though your eyes were glazed over as you stared down at the small table in front of you. He was worried.

You almost didn’t notice the arrival of your soulmates, mind gone to the stimulation you felt.

“Hey baby! Did you have fun?” Jin came up and sat next to you on the loveseat, securing the spot next to you before anyone else. It was a couple of hours until his birthday and he was feeling the excitement of having his birthday with his finally complete soulbond group.

But once he saw you, zoned out and not even registering their entrance, he had a feeling of what was going on. He was reminded of the closet incidence, your wide eyes glazed and unable to track what was going on. He moved in front of you, kneeling down so he could catch your eye.

“Baby?” Jin tried, but you were gone. He now had the attention of the others, and Taehyung and Yoongi made it over first.

“What should we do? Should we hold her like last time?” Taehyung asked, remembering how Jungkook held you in his arms and how the physical contact helped bring you back.

“Here, let me try something.” Namjoon took control, switching places with Jin who now sat back next to you. Their movement didn’t phase you, your eyes still glazed over.

Namjoon moved slowly, just in case you came back to, and moved so his palm was cupping your cheek. At his touch, your eyes became focused again and he could see how truly tired you were.

“Hi baby girl. Are you okay?” He knew you weren’t but he still needed to know if something was physically wrong, and you seemed to know his intention as you shook your head no. At this response, they all knew you were nonverbal; Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung all watching from the back as their hyungs take over the situation.

“How about we go back to the hotel, and have a relaxing night, hmm?” Namjoon asks but stops as you shake your head, grabbing tightly to his forearm. His face scrunched up in concern, wondering what was going on through your head.

You swallow your spit, trying your hardest to push words through your lips, only for them to keep getting caught in the back of your throat. Finally, you manage to push through one word, hoping they understand what you mean.

“Celebrate.” You word is raspy, as if you had a bad cold recently.

They had just gotten back from the military only months ago, managed to plan two weekends worth of content and concerts for Army, and as only a fan could know, they usually celebrated the concert afterwards with a live. You didn’t want that taken away from Army, and you didn’t want the boys to break a tradition just because you got overstimulated. It didn’t seem fair in any way.

You would be fine; you always were before. Yeah, it might take time, but you would be fine.

Army needed the boys more than you right now.

“What do you mean baby?” Jimin asked from behind Hobi, eyes narrowed in confusion as he watches your expression.

You knew you couldn’t push out another word, so you grabbed Namjoon’s palm from your cheek and held it flat in front of you, using your pointer finger you traced the word Army on his palm, hoping he would get it. You even trace it in Hangul when he didn’t get it in English.

“You want us to celebrate with Army?” Namjoon finally realizes what you were trying to say, nodding his head as it clicks.

You nod your head in response but stop once you see the look on your soulmates faces. You could tell they didn’t understand why you were asking them that. Why you wanted them to celebrate with army even when you weren’t doing good.

So, you pull out the big guns, something Jimin taught you when Jin kept telling you no more ice cream. Jimin said it would bring out an immediate ‘yes’ from the hyungs every time, so you tried it.

You pulled out the puppy dog eyes and the lip pout.

An immediate round of groans sounded throughout the room, every single one of your soulmates looked away from you, trying not to be drawn in by your expression.

To seal the deal, you brought your hands together, folded in a way that everyone usually added with pleading words, but you couldn’t speak right now, so you held your clenched hands up close to your face.

Eventually, Jin was the one who folded.

“Alright baby! But we have some conditions.” He raised an eyebrow at you as you turned to face him.

“We’ll do the live as long as you are there with us, so we can see you and make sure you’re okay. You’re going to drink some water, and let one of us hold you until the live, because that helped you a lot last time.” You knew they were talking about the last time you got too overstimulated, so you agreed.

Maybe selfishly, though, you agreed to the terms. You kind of just wanted to be cocooned in like a little safety nest as you watched the boys do their live, maybe covered in one of their shirts or sweaters again. They always made you feel safe and comfortable and were slowly becoming a part of your collection of safe clothing.

“Okay, boys, lets grab our things so we can get back to the hotel. Namjoon, why don’t you grab out little soulmate and go get into the car, we’ll grab your things.” Jin clapped his hands together after moving the night along, wanting to get back to the hotel.

It didn’t take but a couple seconds for Namjoon to pick you up, his hands moving under your thighs and holding you to him so you were chest to chest.

“Come here baby. Let’s go.” You looked around for your backpack, only to see Seungho handing it off to Jungkook who had deemed your backpack his responsibility. You can’t fight him for carrying you this time, exhaustion finally hitting you as you tuck your head into the curve of your soulmate’s neck.

It was a good thing too, as you didn’t realize some fans had figured out where the boys’ vans were and had been waiting outside for you all to leave, phones at the ready to take pictures and videos. This also meant that it would take longer to get back to the hotel, as some fans loved trying to follow the boys to figure out where you all were staying.

One of Namjoon’s hands moved from your holding your thigh to covering your face, protecting you in what he considers a vulnerable moment. He walked faster, Sejin moving with him so he could open the door for you both before having a word with one of the drivers.

Even as you get into the car, and Namjoon’s sits down, he still holds you on his lap, crossing his arms behind your back so you were practically glued to his chest. He moved his left hand lower, almost touching your butt as he moves his hand under your shirt, making contact with your back and begins rubbing his hand up and down your back. He knew this helped you last time and it was one of the only things he had to go on right now as far as helping you out of your shut down.

You both wait patiently for your other soulmates, time passing slowly as you turn your head and watch fans take pictures of the van. You knew they couldn’t get pictures of you through the tinted windows, but you still felt a little vulnerable. You were unable to protect yourself in anyway, nonverbal and in the middle of a shutdown, and it was a little daunting.

You turned your head back into Namjoon’s neck, your head resting against his chest as you watch the boys all begin to make their way quickly to the vans. Jungkook, Hobi, and Yoongi made their way into your van, while the others went into the first one.

“Okay, so Sejin is going to separate our vans, each going a separate way to make it back to the hotel so we aren’t followed. We also have three deco vans waiting to draw confusion.” Yoongi’s voice was raspy and slow from the concert and his own emotions.

He, along with the others were feeling a lot of emotions from finally being able to perform at a concert for Army, but also watching you shut down from the very same concert. It was a lot.

“How is she?” Jungkook asks quietly.

Out of all your soulmates, Jungkook seems to have taken on most of the responsibility for your care and well-being on himself. He finally has a soulmate younger than him, that can rely on him and that he can provide for. So, for him, he has put the responsibility on his own shoulders, something his soulmates have already talked to him about.

“I’m okay.”

You were. You had just been relishing in Namjoon’s touch and had felt the connection build again between your brain and mouth. You still weren’t used to being taken care of, to mean something to other people, and you knew it would take a while but you loved the way they worried about you, the way they cared for you.

It was the same way you cared for them.

-*-*-

It had taken you over an hour to make it back to the hotel. There had been several vehicles trying to follow you, the final car getting lost at a traffic light about fifteen minutes ago. To be safe, the driver kept driving around.

Your van had been the last to make it back to the hotel, and when you go to the room, a small bundle of blankets and pillows, along with some of the boys’ sweaters had been made into a little nest for you by the far wall close to the kitchen. You were in perfect view of the boys as the couches and chairs had been rearranged so they could all be in view of the camera.

When Namjoon let you down, a bundle of clothes had been shoved into your hand as Jimin led you to your shared room with Yoongi and Jin to change. Jimin walked into the bathroom while you changed into a pair of your comfy leggings and one of Taehyung’s shirts.

After doing your skincare for you, wanting you to feel nice and clean while you waited for them to be finished, Jimin helped you back into the living room and into your small nest, bundling Jin and Jungkook’s sweater around you while you watched the boys set up snacks and drinks on the coffee table.

“Okay, now, don’t move.” Jimin pointed his finger at you, his face scrunching playfully as he tries to make you smile. And it works, a small giggle making its way out of your mouth catching the attention of your soulmates.

“Here,” he pulls your phone out of his back pocket, pulling up the live on it before handing it to you. “Keep an eye out for questions you think we should answer, okay baby?” He asks you, wanting you to still be involved in their tradition with Army. While he would rather you be seated with them on the couch, he knows it’s not what you need right now.

“I will, Minnie.” You nod and smile tiredly at his request. He smiles back, kissing you softly before pulling back entirely, Jungkook taking his place with a bottle of water for you. He stays quiet, kissing your forehead before moving to sit with Hobi and Joon on the couch.

You watch them as the live starts, hundreds of questions showing up on the screen as thousands of viewers turn into millions. At first a lot of the questions are about you, why Namjoon was seen carrying you out of the venue and some were even asking why you stayed seated the entire concert.

The boys said a simple response to questions about you. They agreed that they wanted to stop the rumors of any health issues or problems while they could, especially after Namjoon was seen carrying you out.

“Y/n is doing okay and is resting here with us after a long and overstimulating day. She had a lot of new experiences and is in the middle of processing them.” Namjoon spoke in his leader voice, glancing at you for a few seconds as he speaks.

The questions and comments continue, but this time mainly about the boys and the concerts and their upcoming plans. You even commented a few things, trying to remember what it felt like to be Army, commenting “I love you” and hoping they would see it.

You did that the entire time, finding cute little comments and even yelling out “Yoongi Marry Me” every time you saw it which did not amuse your cute soulmate who only looked your way while the others laughed every time. You also drank your entire bottled water, knowing that was one of the promises you made to Jin.

And in the end, once the live was finished, he was the first to go to you, picking you up out of your little nest and into his arms. You were feeling a lot better, no longer overstimulated due to your soulmates care.

“How are you feeling, baby?” You could hear the concern in his voice.

“I’m doing a lot better! You all always seem to know what to do.” You hug him tightly, kissing his jaw in a show of thanks.

“Well, I bought tickets for an amusement park for tonight for us. Do you think you might be up for it?” Jin couldn’t even finish his question before you were squealing in his ear, jumping from his hold and rushing to your shared room.

“I guess that is a yes.” He told Yoongi and Taehyung who were staring at Jin, seeing the entire thing before walking off to the room.

Jimin and Jungkook were already in the room, helping you pick out a matching outfit with Jin, who was going in a pair of his overalls and a white shirt. He wanted you all to match, but you and Jimin were the only ones who currently had a pair of overalls to wear.

You were excited, jumping in your seat as you waited for everyone else to get ready to go. You loved the rides and playing the games but you think your favorite was the food. You never really went to the fair often, which was as close to an amusement park as you had gotten, your mother thinking going to a big field full of people of all walks of life below her standing.

But you loved it and couldn’t wait to experience it with your soulmates.

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harmonicakai · 1 day

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This Is Me Trying

Part 3 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: Being friends with Huening Kai would be much simpler if he didn’t give you butterflies all the time.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing, reader is insecure, mentions of death

A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic if anybody wants to give it a listen hehe <3

“Remember how I used to be so Stuck in one place, so cold? Feeling like my heart just froze Nowhere to go with no one, nobody” —Magic, TXT

When the weekend comes around, you’re worried that you’ve hallucinated the entire situation, but when Kai knocks on your front door, he looks good. Really good.

“I–I like your outfit,” you say, taking note of the details. “It’s different from how you usually dress.”

“Yeonjun helped me pick stuff out. He said you’d like this.” Kai spins, allowing you to take in the full ensemble. He’s ditched his usual skater boy attire for a button down, slacks, and a chocolate brown wool coat that matches the color of his eyes.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” you say, shaking your head.

“Of course I did. You’re the coolest looking person I know.” Has he always thought that? “I don’t know how you do it every day, though. We probably spent hours picking out just this one look.”

“Every Sunday, I plan my outfits for the week. Sometimes it takes the whole day if I’m not feeling too creative.”

“That sounds stressful.”

“It is.”

“Why do you do it, then? I mean, you always look good, but does it make you feel good?”

You blink back at him. Nobody has ever asked you anything like this. You have no idea how to respond.

Kai can tell that he’s struck a nerve. “Sorry. I just meant that if it stresses you out, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do it all the time. There’s a lot to like about you besides how you dress.”

“Right. Should we get going?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan. Suddenly you feel overdressed.

“Let’s do it,” he smiles.

All you can think about on the walk over to the concert hall is whether or not this is a date. It feels like a date. He’s dressed like it’s one.

He said he wanted to be friends, you remind yourself. Still, when he accidentally drifts close to you and your shoulders brush, you can feel your face heat up.

You sit together on the steps of the concert hall, people watching and pointing out your favorite and least favorite outfits.

“I like her hat,” Kai says, pointing to a toddler walking hand in hand with her mom. She’s wearing a fluffy beanie with bear ears.

“Maybe I can convince the team to let you wear one on stage,” you think out loud. “It would be really cute for a concert.”

“That would be so awesome, Y/N! But I don’t want you to think about work right now. Let’s just have fun today.”

“I’m always thinking about work,” you admit. “I’ve thought about clothes every second of my life for what seems like forever now.”

“You aren’t that old,” he points out.

“I’m one year older than you,” you remind him. He skipped the birthday party that Yeonjun threw for you last winter.

“Okay, I take it back,” he surrenders. “You’re old and should look into retirement soon.”

You know he’s just joking, but you can’t help but think that he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on what everybody is wearing all the time, yourself included.

“Y/N,” Kai says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You jerk your head up.

“I used to play in an orchestra,” you blurt out, instantly regretting answering a question that was never asked. Still, you have Kai’s full attention, and the point of this is for the two of you to get to know each other. “I, uh, I played the viola, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“That’s so cool! I play the piano!” You already know that. Everybody does, but you appreciate how he seems to have forgotten that he’s world famous. “We should do a duet sometime! MOA would love it.”

“Uh, I’m not sure MOA would love seeing you with a girl,” you deflect. You’ve seen what dating scandals can do to someone’s career.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees. You watch the cogs inside his head spin before a lightbulb goes off. “Maybe we can set Taehyun up with a fake one on Academy Reincarnation and you can play in the background. ”

“That… actually sounds pretty funny.”

“Ooh, Y/N, thinks I’m funny,” he muses, before turning away to face the busy square. “Seoul! Y/N thinks I’m funny!”

“Shh!” you laugh, cupping your hand over his mouth. You are not mentally prepared to deal with any crazed fangirls tonight. “We have to go inside, now.”

Before you can overthink it, Kai grabs your hand and the two of you rush inside, greeted by marble floors and draped velvets. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” you sigh, taking the entire lobby in. “You know, I haven’t been here since I was a little girl. My mom would bring me here all the time. She played the piano like you. I always wanted to take after her, but I have trouble forming chords.”

“I can give you lessons, if you want,” he offers. “I have a keyboard in my room back at home.”

“I’d like that,” you smile back. You try not to read too much into being invited into his bedroom.

“Why don’t you and your mom go to concerts anymore?” Kai asks, hoping that it isn’t too personal a question. His anxiety grows exponentially as you take your time responding.

“She passed away when I was nine,” you say calmly. It doesn’t hurt you to tell people anymore. “I wanted to come because today is actually her birthday. My dad is really sensitive about it, though, so it was just going to be me. But I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Oh… Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.” He stares at his shoes, guilt written all over his face. “I could’ve made things more special for you.”

“Don’t worry, Kai. It already is special,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “My mom would probably be happy to see me coming here with someone who loves the piano just as much as she did.”

His face relaxes again, and he does very little to stop himself from grinning ear to ear.

After you take your seats in the back of the balcony and the lights begin to dim, a strange sense of calm overtakes you.

Despite being in a crowd of strangers, sitting next to Kai in the dark and listening to the hum of strings as they warm up makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world.

Midway through the concert, you realize he’s still holding your hand. Maybe he’s like this with all of his friends, considering you’ve seen him and Soobin skipping down the halls hand in hand on multiple occasions. Still, you hope he never lets go.

—————-

Even though it’s technically your job, it’s a rare occasion where you actually get to dress the boys. Today, all hands are on deck for the filming of their upcoming album’s concept trailer.

“I can’t believe they’re making you wear a white sweater,” you sigh, holding up Kai’s outfit for the Dreamer sequence. “Everybody else gets such cute colors.”

“At least I get to stand out,” he grins, always looking on the bright side. He’s already got on his eyepatch, but it’s a little crooked. You walk over to fix it.

“Hold still,” you say, adjusting it into place and smoothing his hair down. “There we go.”

“Was I better this time?” he asks. You look up at him in confusion.

“What?” His face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath.

“I didn’t move this time. That night at the club,” he explains, “Well, you were telling me the story of when we first met. How I flinched and walked away and it hurt your feelings.”

“Oh. Yeah, you were much better this time.”

“I’m glad. I’ll try to be good for you, Y/N. I’m really sorry about before. I feel like I really wasted our time being so… weird. We could’ve been friends much earlier.”

“It’s okay, Kai, really,” you say, stepping back and handing him his sweater.

“It’s not, Y/N. It was silly of me to be so nervous around you.”

“You were nervous?”

“I guess you don’t remember that part of the conversation either, huh?” he asks, pulling his t-shirt off. You’ve seen the rest of the group shirtless before, but Kai usually goes into the bathroom to change whenever you’re around.

Your cheeks flush as you stare at his smooth skin and his broad shoulders.

“Uh, Y/N?” he says. While you were checking him out, Kai managed to get himself stuck. “I think my shirt is caught on my necklace. Can you help?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you say, working gently to untangle the fabric around his neck. You can feel how warm his chest is, reminding you of riding in the taxi on his lap. Eventually, you’re able to get him freed.

“Thank you,” Kai smiles. “I’m really glad you’re here. Everybody else is always rushing me.”

“I might get in trouble if you don’t hurry up, Hyuka.” You’ve never called him by a nickname before. It’s foreign to think about, but somehow rolls naturally off your tongue.

“Fine, okay, I’m ready,” he says, pulling the sweater on. The color actually compliments him really well. “Do you need to add any finishing touches?”

“Hmm, spin around,” you say, twirling your finger. Kai does his signature penguin stance and waddles in a circle, making you giggle. “No, you look cute.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve just said.

“You think I’m cute,” he smiles, doing a little happy dance. “Ooh, I’m the cutest boy in the world, huh?”

“Hey! I said you look cute,” you assert, crossing your arms in an attempt to play it off. He’s right, but you don’t want him to know that.

“Close enough,” he says, grabbing his crown off of the makeup table. “I should go. I’ll see you later. You’re the best!”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly lifting you off the ground. When you’re back on your feet, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek and leaves the dressing room. Yeonjun does it all the time, but it feels different coming from Kai.

Your hand moves to your cheek, lingering on the spot where his lips touched. Fuck. You might actually be falling for Huening Kai.

—————-

For the past two months, you and Kai have alternated picking out activities to do together. Last week, you taught him how to make banana bread. He almost set your apartment on fire.

Today, he’s invited you to his place to practice playing the piano.

You’re more nervous than you need to be. It’s your first time in his bedroom, but it’s completely innocent.

Except when you’re sitting on the piano bench together, knees and shoulders pressed against each other, and he’s got his hands placed over yours to help guide you, you feel butterflies in your stomach. That’s not how people who are just friends feel.

You’ve come too far to throw it all away over a stupid crush. He’s simply much too out of your league. Still, while he’s busy explaining chord progressions, you’re staring at how long his eyelashes are and how cute he looks when he’s wearing his glasses.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kai asks, pouting. “I thought you wanted to learn, Y/N!”

“I do!” you lie. “I am very interested in what you’re saying right now.”

“What did I even say?” He crosses his arms and furrows his brow in fake anger.

“Um…” you start. You know you’ve been caught. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

His face shifts to worry. “Is something wrong?”

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s keep going,” you say, flipping through his binder of sheet music. “Oh, I love this song!”

You had never expected him to have the piano score to Night Changes by One Direction, but you aren’t complaining. In a way, TXT’s dynamic reminds you a lot of the long gone boy group.

“This song is kind of like us,” he notes. You shoot him a confused look. It’s a love song, after all.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your palms now sweaty.

“I just think it’s kind of crazy how things changed between us.” That’s not really what the song is about, but you’re not going to tell him that. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”

“Oh, yeah, super crazy,” you say, exhaling. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”

“Y/N?” he asks, his face close to yours. Is he about to do what you think he is?

“Yes?”

“You have an eyelash on your face.” He brushes a finger across your cheek and holds up the lost lash with a smile. “Make a wish.”

You blow it away, vowing to never let him know that what you asked for was him.

“I have to tell you something,” you confess. “I don’t actually want to learn how to play the piano. I’d rather just listen to you play.”

“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised. “I can do that. Should I serenade you, too, m’lady?”

“Yes, please,” you giggle. His goofy side is such a nice departure from the gloomy, quiet Kai you were used to.

You’ve heard this song probably hundreds of times, but Kai’s version feels brand new. As you watch his fingers dance across the keys and listen to his soft voice, the lyrics begin to seem like they were written just for the two of you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai #huening txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt hyuka #hyuka x reader #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt angst #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai imagines

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thedickcavettshow · 1 day

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Can you tell us a little more about Joan Baez's girlfriend Kimmie? I'm curious about who she was and you seem to be the expert

Hiiii sorry this took so long to answer lol. Turns out I have a lot to say on this subject. Kimmie is a fascinating person and has lived a pretty wild life.

I'll just preface this by saying firstly I'm not an expert, I've just done a lot of research out of curiosity. Secondly, there is an absolute TON of misinformation out there about Kimmie, so everything that I'll tell you is stuff I learned from quotes directly from Joan, Kimmie, and other people they knew. The majority of this information is coming from Joan's memoir And a Voice to Sing With (1987) and Kimmie's interviews in the book Pearl: The Obsessions and Passions of Janis Joplin by Ellis Amburn (1992).

Joan Baez met Kim Chappell in the early 60s, when Kim was 17 years old and just freshly graduated from high school. Kim was a California surfer girl and Joan describes her by saying she "blew in, fresh, tan, skittery, ragged, shy, rebellious" and describes having sex with her as being "superb and utterly natural".

in 1962 Joan bought Kim a motorcycle and they rented a house together and they both adopted Doberman pinscher puppies. They often appeared in public together pretending to just be platonic friends, and Joan brought Kim along with her on tour, and Kim served as Joan's assistant and took care of her records. Kim also wrote some songs for her. They broke up after Kim trashed their bedroom because she got jealous of Joan's interest in a man she met on tour, but they remained friends after breaking up and Kim continued to work as Joan's assistant for a while. The time they spent together was positive, definitely one of the most pleasant of Joan's relationships, and Joan has said that being together taught her a lot about herself and about love and sex. Kim said of Joan in 1992 "Joan Baez was my first lover and brought me out and I still haven't recovered from that woman".

In the mid 60s, Kim became a heavy drug user, and in 1965 at a party with Jerry Garcia she took a little too much acid and climbed to the roof with an axe and began chopping the roof apart, then got onto her motorcycle (the one Joan bought her) and drove 120 mph to Joan’s house, climbed in through a window, and passed out in the middle of Joan’s living room. Joan called Kim's mother and they brought Kim to the hospital, and unfortunately that event pretty much ended their friendship.

While in the hospital, Kim was introduced to heroin, and immediately became very addicted. After being released from the hospital, Kim met a woman named Peggy Casetra (a name that is probably familiar/infamous to anyone who knows a bit about Janis Joplin) and they fell very much in love with each other. Peggy owned a boutique in San Francisco called Mnasidika (Sappho reference) and was also a heavy drug user.

Kim met Janis Joplin backstage at a show at the very beginning of Janis' career, and Janis was instantly attracted to her and pursued her. Since Kim and Peggy were not monogamous, Kim accepted her advances, although she felt that Janis would get along better with Peggy and decided to introduce them the next day. Both Kim and Peggy became close friends with Janis, and Janis was extremely enamored with them specifically because of Kim's relationship with Joan Baez. Janis and Peggy became lovers, and Janis’ friend Sunshine Nichols says "When Janis described Peggy to me, the first thing she said was, 'Well, Peggy's lover was involved with Joan Baez.'" The fact that she dated Joan was one of the first things Kim had told Janis when they first met. Apparently she got a kick out of telling people about it. Peggy and Kim were still together during the entire time that Peggy was seeing Janis, which at first Kim was fine with, but Janis eventually came to wanting Peggy to leave Kim for her and that soured the friendship between Kim and Janis slightly.

Kim and Peggy did not break up, even though they had a lot of issues with their relationship, which were not all caused by Janis. Kim was apparently a terrible driver, which really angered Peggy and they fought about driving which frequently escaladed into full-on fistfights. Kim was always driving way too fast and at one point she drove straight through a brand new $1500 fence. The fact that they were both extremely addicted to heroin obviously didn't help. They both did a lot of stupid stuff while high. This is a quote from Kim about a time she broke several of her ribs in the late 60s because she was trying to go to the bathroom late at night but was so high that she ended up on the second floor balcony instead: "I sat down on what I thought was the toilet, but it was thin air and I fell off the second-story porch, landing in a forked sapling. It was easily a ten- or twelve-foot drop. I lay there in the tree, stone naked, and I remember seeing stars and saying to myself, 'Oh, what a beautiful night!' Then I passed out."

Even though they had their issues Kim and Peggy were very openly and proudly a lesbian couple, so everyone around them knew about it. They spoke about being gay pretty openly, and they had a classic butch/femme dynamic (Kim was butch) that they made no attempt to conceal. The members of Janis' band and the other people she worked with strongly disapproved of them, and Albert Grossman, Janis’ manager (and Bob Dylan’s), tried very hard to keep the two of them away from Janis, because he felt that they were a bad influence on her and didn’t want her to get involved with “the gay thing”. Obviously he was not successful with this. Unfortunately their openness about being gay had a pretty negative effect on the two of them after Janis’ death.

After Janis' death, a lot of the people Kim and Peggy knew blamed them because they already had negative feelings about them and they were a pretty easy target. This was exacerbated in 1973 when Going Down With Janis, a "biography" about Janis' life written by a ghostwriter named Dan Knapp under Peggy's name was published. Peggy had agreed to let Knapp write a biography about Janis and had told him many stories about their time together, but Knapp took those stories and twisted them into something unrecognizable that just existed to shock and scandalize readers. Going Down With Janis did garner a bit of a cult following for being notoriously depraved and shocking, but unfortunately it's mostly made up. The book was essentially just Knapp's degrading sex fantasies about Janis written as though they were true facts and written from Peggy’s perspective. When the book was released, Peggy was horrified by its contents because she loved Janis and had only told Knapp positive stories about their time together. The book painted Peggy and Kim as Janis’ abusers and implicitly blamed them for Janis’ death.

After the book was published, Kim and Peggy faced enormous backlash from pretty much everyone they knew which led to Kim almost being murdered in an attempt at revenge. One night in the mid 70s while Kim, Peggy, and some friends were at a lesbian bar in Los Angeles called Bacchanal-70, Janis' former heroin dealer assaulted Kim in the alley behind the bar and stabbed her three times in the chest, puncturing both her lungs, and then left her there to die. Luckily, Kim was able to make it back inside the bar and she was rushed to the hospital. She was in critical condition but she managed to pull through and made a full recovery. She and Peggy split up for good after that.

By the 1990s, Kim managed to get sober after a very long and debilitating addiction that almost killed her many times. She said in 1992, "I finally managed to get clean; though I still enjoy marijuana and a glass of wine with a meal, I'm careful not to abuse."

This is the most recent picture of her that exists in the public, taken in the early 90s. There isn't any information about her since then.

#sorry that this is so long winded and tbh not well written lmao #I just wanted to include all the relevant info about her and. theres a hell of a lot of relevant info about her #joan baez #janis joplin

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krahk · 3 days

Text

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

18+

Part Six

(Or, Alastor, snakes, and cannibals - oh my!)

The next morning Charlie wasn’t downstairs, and Vaggie looked like something kicked her dog. The vibes of the hotel were totally off. You had tried to ask the woman what had happened when she and Charlie had their meeting, but she was too upset to talk. Angel Dust and Husk were confused about what happened as well, and it was impossible to get to Charlie, she had barricaded herself in her room.

After 3 or 4 days you finally had enough and knocked incessantly on Charlie’s door, before she finally opened the door, eyes red and horns coming out of her head slightly. She looked like she had been crying all night, eyes puffy and bloodshot. You held up a bottle of wine and two glasses, shaking them back and forth. “Hey you! I think you need a break from…whatever it is you’re doing in here.”

Charlie opened her mouth, likely to tell you to go away, but you continued quickly, “We don’t even have to talk, but I think sometimes it's good not to be alone.” Charlie hesitated, her body slightly rocking back while her eyes went up in thought, debating on what she should do. She pushed the door open and walked towards her bed and sat crisscrossed on it. You closed the door with a flick of your hips and joined the princess on her bed, passing her a glass while you fought with the cork. Once the two of you had wine poured, it took a few sips before Charlie opened up.

”Have you ever had someone you love lie to you?” You snorted at the question, before realising the hurt on the woman’s face.

“Yes, for sure yes, probably everyone I’ve ever loved. They all do. But I also lived with humans forever, and I’m sorry to break it to you but a lot of them think that little lies to save someone from a little hurt now grows into something massive that hurts a lot later. Unfortunately, you only learn not to do it from experience. Is this person who lied to you…usually a liar? Or are you confident they aren’t still lying to you?”

Her eyes became glossy with tears as she swirled her wine glass. “I don’t know. I thought I knew this person but it turns out they were lying about everything that they were. I’ve spent the last few years of my life with them and now I’m not sure any of it was real.”

Okay, she was clearly talking about Vaggie. Because everyone else was pretty much new to her life, this would have to be a delicate conversation. What on earth was she lying about? You had to tread lightly and be vague, but hopefully helpful. “Do you think they lied to hurt you? Like wanting to make sure you hurt?” You asked. Good, steady start there. Charlie thought for a second. “I don’t think so?”.

“Okay, is it a new lie or an old lie?” No thinking required, Charlie responded with “Old lie. Right away lie. Like as soon as I met them lie.” Hmm. You took a second to think about your experiences, wanting to give good advice to her, as she deserved it entirely.

“Were they scared? Like look back on your first meeting.” You tried to remember if Vaggie and Charlie had ever talked about their meeting, but all you knew for sure was that they have met around 3 years ago during extermination. Charlie released a large sigh, and a tear fell down her cheek. “I mean, probably? There was a lot going on.”

“Okay, and did they know who you were? Like, not your name, but your position, status, etcetera?” It was good the demon was opening up, her voice sounded hoarse from crying and a lack of use. You filled up Charlie’s glass which was emptied from a large gulp. “No. No idea.” You nodded at her response and met her eyes with a soft smile.

“Okay, that sounds to me that the lie first happened because they were scared. Lies grow, and lies from fear only make a person more scared. It sounds like they might have been unsure on how to tell you the truth, because whenever the time was right they didn’t want you to hurt - probably because they loved you. Love makes us complicated and stupid, Charlie. It’s one of the reasons why it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s also why it exists in all factions of life and death. You can probably thank your dad for that actually, free will has a huge part in it.”

Charlie gave you a strained smile in return, but it was clear she was still unsure. “I’m not telling you to forgive right away, but if this is the first person who has lied to you in your life so far, that’s pretty good. People obviously try to be the best version of themselves around you - they can’t help it. That’s why it’s great of you to try and do this program! Nobody wanted to let you down, you’re too pure a soul. Especially down here,” You laughed, and gave her a rib nudge with your elbow. Silence took over as the two of you finished off the bottle. Eventually Charlie started pulling at the threads on her comforter, and you took that as a sign to give her some space.

”Hey, I hope you feel a bit better, I’m just a floor away from you if you ever need to chat, or paint each other's nails…hooves,” You corrected, glancing at her feet. Charlie laughed lightly, and gave you a smile. Not quite as big as you were used to from the woman, but still brighter than when you first came in. “I’ll let you get back to moping, sometimes laying in bed crying and being sad is therapeutic. It reminds you what makes you happy. I hope this…helped?” You inquired. Charlie nodded her head and said her thanks, crawling back under her covers.

You collected the glasses and empty bottle and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly as you left. When you had returned to the kitchen to put the items in the sink, you caught the last bit of whatever broadcast Alastor was on. You made tea while the instrumental song played, filling the kitchen with a comforting sound.

Alastor ended his show with a polite goodbye, your tea was steeping and you thought about the conversation you just had . You felt okay about the advice you gave Charlie, and honestly hoped it was helpful to her. With less than a month before the guaranteed extermination, everyone needed to be in their best headspace. As you tried to go out the swing door it opened abruptly, knocking your tea out of your hand, and smacking you into the nose, resulting in teary eyes and your hands covering your face as you grimaced in pain and groaned from the impact. The cup shattered on the ground and tea splattered everywhere.

Cursing, you started to look down to help with the nose bleed, and a black and red hand came into view, holding a handkerchief. You grabbed it and pressed it into your face as you slowly rose your eyes up to see Alastor standing there, matching handkerchief against his own nose. He gave a disgruntled hmm as he looked down at you. You backed up back to a stool and sat down, spinning to put your elbows on the counter to keep pressure on your face.

Alastor had simply vanished his microphone and walked over to the kettle, which was still warm. He began to fix himself a tea and held up the kettle asking silently if you needed a new cup. Politely accepting his offer, he started to make you one as well. In a moment the two of you were seated opposite one another, nursing tea and letting the pain on your face diminish.

After snapping away the mess on the floor, he had conjured some sort of newspaper and was reading it, sipping his tea politely. You held the warm cup between your hands and found yourself constantly drifting your eyes to his person. He truly was unlike anything or anyone you had ever met, there was something simply fascinating about his character. The features that once scared you for being unusual now made you linger about how wonderfully unique they were. While his smile when wide was still spooky, there were a few times you caught him with a real smile. Like when Mimzy popped in, or whenever you noticed him and Nifty speaking with one another on their own. Even now, as he read the paper, his smile was small, but seemingly genuine. Like he was just decompressing from a hard day at work.

You glanced up to his face to realise he was staring back at you. When your eyes connected a sharp jolt of shock ran through you. How long had he watched you staring at him? Hopefully just a second. Maybe you could blame disassociation and staring into the void causing the uncomfortable staring. However, where you thought would be anger, or disapproval, was just curious acknowledgment. You both openly stared at each other, and somehow it wasn’t quite as awkward as it had been in the past. It was like a mutual new discovery, both just looking to learn or understand the creature in front of you.

Suddenly the door swung open so hard it hit the wall, and Vaggie had entered, clearly on a mission the two of you watched the woman scramble some food together before leaving the kitchen in a rush. She looked just as bad as Charlie did. You turned your head to meet Alastor’s gaze once more, his eyes already fixated on you. You coughed into your hand and realised your tea had cooled down significantly. How long had you two stared at one other? You rose up and intended to say goodnight, but Alastor had reached over to grab your cup, put it in the sink and turned around with a small bow and offered his arm to you.

“Would you care for an escort madam?” You laughed at his ‘performance’ voice, accepting his offer. The two of you headed up the stairs in silence, but you were thrilled that the two of you were capable of being in a silence other than awkward. This was a huge development as far as you were concerned. He walked you to your door as you unlocked it and turned around to face him while you opened the door. As you began to say goodnight, you noticed a small blush on his face before you felt the familiar burn across your own. Did he blush first this time? Usually it was you, right? You stuttered out a thank you, dipped your head down a bit just as he had taken a small step forward, resulting in your ears brushing past his chin, causing both of you to shudder. Blushes now bright, you repeated your thanks.

“Thank you for the tea, Alastor. And the escort. A true gentleman. ”You curtseyed lightly. He nodded at your words, putting a fist to his lips to cough lightly and break the strange tension that had suddenly built up between the two of you.

“A gentleman never leaves a lady in the dark, darling. Sleep well.’’ Before stepping backwards towards his own door, turning around on his heel to go through the threshold of his own room. As you closed your own door and began your nightly routine, you went over the strange night and moments just shared with the Radio Demon. What was up with the sudden flip in behaviour? Was this a part of his payback? And if so, why did it feel like a jolt of arousal surged through you when your ears hit his chin? Was that you, or his?

And these were the thoughts that plagued you before sleep, resulting in a restless night indeed.

After a few days (and Angel nosing about) the lie had finally spread through the hotel. Vaggie was an ex-exterminator, which explained why Charlie was so burdened with grief. Terribly discovered via Adam in Heaven, right after the Seraphim’s had decided plausibility that a soul could be redeemed. It was obvious Charlie had taken it like a punch to the gut. Still, though this was a peculiar situation in general, it did not explain why Lucifer, AKA the unknown number, was calling you first thing on a weekday morning. You were in bed, still half-awake, while the obvious genetic contributor to Charlie’s speed talking and manic tangents was bombarding you with all sorts of questions about the girl. You let him get all he had to say out of him before responding, hoping everything would catch up to your brain.

”-and that’s why I’m calling you because I know girls talk canyoutellmeanythingaboutwhatisgoingon??” He expelled a large gust of air from his lungs that had clearly been building during his rant, and you waited a couple of seconds before responding groggily.

“Lemme get this straight-”

“Uh-Huh!”

“Charlie isn’t responding to you, so you’ve called your way through the hotel, but I’m the only one who answered,”

“…Yes”,

“And you’re expecting me to just break whatever trust I’ve built with her to tell you what she’s feeling?”

A pause. “Um, yeeess?” He could tell you were unimpressed with his remark, and you could imagine the face he was making through the phone. You heard a soft slap, the sound of someone hitting his own face, which was well deserved.

“Yea, sir, Mr…Morningstar Devil sir, what you’re suggesting is a huge breach of trust to someone who is trying to deal with that exact thing from another close person to her. You’re just going to have to wait until she reaches out. She probably knows you’ve called and messaged her, and that alone is enough for her to know that you care.”

Silence.

“I promise, as a girl with my own daddy issues, forcing yourself into her life is not a great idea. It’ll likely push her away because she’ll feel like you’re trying to say she can’t figure this out on her own, which is exactly what she needs to do right now. Do I make sense?”

A sigh came out, and he hummed through the phone. “Stop pouting sir, you’re a bit above that, I think.”

”Uh-pfft, ah- rude. I am not pouting!”

“Mmhmm. Sure my guy. How about, I tell you what I know she does like, and you can have it delivered to the hotel, or someone can bring it to her door, a kind gesture can go a long way. Also, it is not an invasion of privacy.”

”Ah. So perhaps I shouldn’t tell you I’m outside the hotel?”

Oh for absolute shits sake. “You’re joking, right? Ha-ha? Funny guy?” Fingers crossed, but for the king of demons you could tell he was pretty terrible at lying.

“I won’t tell you then, but maybe don’t look outside. At least for another like, 10 minutes until I’m out of sight, god what was I thinking I’m an idiot- Hey! Why don’t you just show me what she likes? Maybe I’ll see why she’s so eager to save these unfortunate souls.” He was excited now. Could one say no to the devil? Should you even ask? “I mean…I guess?” You answered hesitantly, kind of hoping he would pick up on the not so subtle tone of someone who really didn’t want to go.

”Oh good! I was worried you would say no. To the Devil. The King of Hell. Lord of the Pride Ring” Ah yes, one does in fact not say no to the devil. You groaned inwardly, allowing a soft sigh out. “I’ll be down in a second, I have to get dressed.”

“Yay!”

Slamming your room door while hopping on one foot trying to get the second shoe on your foot you came a little too close to the wall and bumped into it, making a photo on it clatter loudly. This resulted in Alastors door opening up. He took in your appearance, nice but not too nice with a simple white cotton dress featuring a modest hemline, thin straps on your shoulders and a full circle skirt that ended right above your knees.

You were finally successful in slipping on your short red boot with a white toe & heel, which just edged the outfit into something a little fancier. You stood up straight and rubbed your elbow, the main victim of your impact with the wall. You laughed, slightly embarrassed that he caught the tail end of another clumsy moment, which did nothing for the worry the two of you had with basic survival in Hell. He gestured to your person with his microphone, eyebrow raised as he questioned your attire. For one who wore all black leisure wear most days, this was obviously a ‘going out’ look.

Ah, yes. Lucifer wasn’t Husk, but surely a safe person to walk around hell with, right? “Mr. Morningstar…the King? Lucifer?” What the hell were you supposed to call him? Both of Alastors brows raised at the mention of his name but he allowed you to continue, “Mr whatever he is. He wants to get Charlie something to cheer her up. But I think the both of us can agree that he probably isn’t the best to go grab her something on a whim. He asked for my help, and I’m pretty sure ‘yes’ or ‘yes sir’ were the only two acceptable answers for the ruler of Hell.” You shrugged your shoulders, waiting for Alastors reaction.

You expected snarky comments about Lucifer, you did not expect him to grip his microphone so hard his knuckles would be white if his hands weren’t black and a sharp, thin smile of disapproval. He was easier to read when he was mad, so you picked up on this vibe immediately.

“Is that so?” His voice slightly above condescending, “And he asked our little lost Doe for help? Our newest acquisition of the hotel? Out of all of Hell in general? Peculiar!” You made a tight lipped face, frowning in return.

“Alastor, I’m the only one who answered the phone. So really, I’m the last one who picked up. Trust me, I’m not overly pleased with it but I feel like I can’t say no. He doesn’t seem the type to take it very well.”

”And if I were to say you cannot go?” He remarked, looking towards the stairs now.

”Uhh. I am…not sure? I guess tell him that you don’t want me going and let him brew why I would listen to what you wanted? Again Alastor, he doesn’t seem like the most understanding person when it comes to not going with his plans. He is the King of Hell, and ‘Lord of the Pride’ realm.” The last bit said with a bit of a lofty attitude paired with finger quotes.

Alastor was clearly processing your statement, and it was hard for him to admit you were likely correct. What a pain. Lucifer was an absolute moron, unfit to be a father, unfit to be king. But he was top dog right now, and Alastor was not. “Perhaps I will join the two of you, to ensure no distracting detours take place. I am concerned his appearance will garner unwanted attention.”

Oh, that was a good point, and you let Alastor know. You invited him to come down, grabbing an apple on the way out the door. You were squinting your eyes looking around for the King, where you spotted a very white snake wearing a top hat wrapped around the gate. He was not one for blending in, not at all.

“There you are!” The snake said, slithering to the ground to come beside you. “You certainly like to make a man wait!” Your eyes rolled, and Alastor coughed, cutting into the conversation. The snake hissed, unimpressed with his presence. “Why is he here? I thought you were helping me?”

“Look, Alastor has known Charlie longer than me, and he is interested in making sure we find the right thing for her. His knowledge on this matter is invaluable.” What the Hell was going on. Was Lucifer jealous?

“Well, I’m not happy about it, always inserting himself where he isn’t wanted!” Alastor was behind the two of you, Lucifer slithering until the three of you made it down the hill out of the hotel’s view. You looked at him and scrunched your face a bit. He was a lot to take in. Alastor was right, he would likely bring unwanted attention. “Um…sir, do you have a disguise? Charlie will probably hear on the news that Lucifer is shopping for his daughter, this would probably be best as a surprise?” Please change form, please change form, please -

Oh thank god. He changed into a black goat-man hybrid thing, goat eyes and all. You noticed his horns in their natural state were larger than Alastors, Yang the two of you made eye contact with mutual understanding. Overcompensation. You coughed out a laugh, and grumbled out any remaining chuckles at his expense. Alastor, as always, needed to get an edge in however and had no issue pointing it out. “Making up for something? Those are mighty large horns for someone who has such a fine, delicate physicality like yours.” Alastors face was filled with glee, the fire in his eyes lighting up Lucifers. They stared at each other and you could feel the static from their clashing gazes.

“Well, I don’t think you need to be concerned, I am the King of Hell, after all. I think that means I can have big horns. Big, beautiful, horns. Sorry that your horns or…er, antlers aren’t as impressive. But you make them work for you and your ridiculous ears!” Alright, that was enough now, you needed to interject this ridiculous headbutting or else it would go on forever.

“Al~right! One, I take offence to the ear remark, we didn’t have a choice. Two, whip ‘em out for the world to see so we can put a period in this pissing contest, and three, I’m starving, this apple has a worm in it because of course it does, and bet your ass I am going to be the scariest damn thing on this street unless I get food in me so let's get going.”

You had crossed your arms and tapped your little boot on the street, thankfully with a well timed growl from your stomach. Lucifer scowled and turned to stomp down the street, barely containing his hissy fit. Alastor couldn’t help but smile at your outburst, you were quite adorable when you tried to boss people around. However one thing had confused him -

“My dear, what am I to ‘whip out’?” He asked as he gestured for you to start walking, him matching your stride and sticking by your side. Oh Jesus Murphy no. He was, like, a century old. This wasn’t new slang, was it? A couple of times you had to educate him on a few newer idioms, generally funny little cute things regarding stuff that took place long after he died, but this was just…not great. “Uuuh. Hmm. How can I put this without bursting into flames?”

You pondered, tapping your chin and mentally patting yourself on the back for not having done so already, “Think about what is required for one to ‘piss’ and perhaps how that could be used to measure such a thing and compare it to perhaps another persons…thing?” Oh such a good beginning only to tank it at the end. Alastor only hmm’d at your statement, glancing at his reflection in the windows as you walked by, Lucifer still ahead of the two of you kicking stones like a toddler.

“Well, I generally do enjoy entering in contests I know I will win, however I am not interested in learning what divine punishment may come upon me for utterly destroying the Devil’s self confidence. Let us consider him lucky that I am in a charitable mood this morning.” He was looking ahead, but his smile was certainly one of the cat that got the canary. You laughed, earning a small chuckle in return, and accepted his crooked arm by weaving your own and meeting his elbow with yours.

The two of you walked behind Lucifer as he tried to order the two of you to walk faster, he was in a hurry. Alastors grip was strong, and he shook his head as you tried to pick up the pace. It wouldn’t be until later that night that in no uncertain terms, Alastor definitely had just told you he was absolutely packing down under.

Spending the morning and early afternoon babysitting Lucifer was one of the worst jobs you ever had. He was all about grand statements, shiny, expensive things. Nothing about the things he wanted to get would interest Charlie. She would certainly say thank you and accept it to not hurt his feelings, but it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

Eventually his steam wore out, and while Alastor was occupied window shopping, bored of your many questions to this royal pain in the ass. “Sir, we’ve been over this. What do you know she likes. Even if it isn’t something we can get.”

“I told you! I only remember things she liked as a kid…and even then I don’t have faith she still likes to eat crayons and cut her own hair.” He sat down on the curb, head in his hands. “I really am a bad father, aren’t I? God, how did I think this would work.” You sat down beside him, patting his back, mindlessly offering support. A group of bull demons walked by and cat-called you, resulting in you rolling your eyes and Lucifer snapping them into bugs. Ah, to have such power over douchebags would be wonderful.

“Really, I don’t know why she wants to redeem some of these people. I understand why she loves you all so much, you’re all alright for sinners. Well, most of you…” He trailed off, looking to Alastors direction. His face held disgust before you realised what he had said.

“That’s it! Oh my god, I have an idea!” You were excited at what was going to happen. “can you conjure anything?” You asked the forlorn angel.

“Pretty much, yea. Living things is a generally a no, why?” You rattled off your idea, Lucifer's eyes brightening excitedly and jumping up with joy with the prospect of creating Charlie’s gift. Why had none of you thought of him making something until now? You relayed the gift to Alastor, and even he was unable to deny the predicted success of your idea. Lucifer said he would need to workshop it, but it wouldn’t take him too long to finish it. You sent him a few things via text message before he disappeared, clearly off to work his magic. A text hit you back right after he left, where he thanked you and left a winky emoji, and a heart. The man was a menace, for sure. Alastor looked at your phone while you responded with a thumbs up and tilted your head up to your left side to meet Alastor’s gaze. He didn’t seem too pleased with the familiarity Lucifer appeared to have with you, but honestly - no way, no how. Lucifer was just…full of love, mostly. Charlie had to get it from somewhere and if her mother could ditch her so easily you doubted she got it from that side.

“I think it’ll be adorable, I’m excited to see it complete. I hope he pays attention to the pictures.” You were breaking the silence, unsure of how the rest of the day would go now that you and Alastor had been left alone. He nodded before asking you to join him to meet a friend. He said he needed to catch up with an old friend, but you might enjoy her (her?) company as well. So, having faith it was harmless, the two of you walked towards his mystery destination, enjoying each other's company, honestly.

When your face paled at the sign reading ‘Cannibal Town’, Alastor laughed at you. “Re~lax! They are perfectly polite here, they do not simply pounce and consume! They prefer one to be dead before consumption. And you, my dear, are very much alive.” He still linked arms with you and pulled you close to keep you comfortable, as some of the locals licked your lips as the two of you walked by. Finally, when the two of you approached a large gazebo in the heart of town, Alastor announced himself to the actual tallest woman you had met. Impeccably dressed, as well. Her name was Rosie, and she was hilarious. It was clear she and Alastor had a long standing friendship filled with mutual respect. The woman had the two of you served with tea and while seated, took her time grilling you with questions.

”Now Alastor, is this the little thorn in your side? The other half to your coin? She’s an absolute doll!” She clapped her hands towards you and smiled wide. Alastor confirmed her theory, and that was when you knew Rosie was to be trusted completely. If Alastor spoke such secrets with her he clearly had nothing to worry about here. It was nice to be around such generous and lively company after your past few hours with a selfish baby. Rosie ate up a large part of your afternoon right into the evening, before politely wishing you a safe trip home.

“Wonda-ful to meet you Darling! Visit me anytime, I know he’s a handful!” Rosie shouted as she waved you off, resulting in you laughing at Alastors expense. ”She’s wonderful Alastor, thank you for introducing me.” Alastor hummed in acknowledgement, nodding in confirmation to your statement. “Rosie is a safe place if your safety is ever compromised. She was here before me so we have known each other for a long while. It was no accident I wanted the two of you to meet.”

You nodded, knowing he was more concerned for his own safety than yours. You weren’t hurt by the knowledge, not really, but for some reason the thought brought your mood down. And unfortunately the two of you were getting much better at picking up on each other's moods lately, and he remarked on it, stopping to look at you with what might have been concern, but was more likely frustration. “Have I said something untowards?” He asked, politely waiting for you to answer.

“No, I was just thinking that…hopefully Lucifer does a good job on Charlie’s things. I really want it to turn out, she really deserves it.” His silence and narrowed eyes let you know he was aware you were hiding something. But it had been a wonderful day, and he allowed the urge to call you out to pass. You yawned suddenly, surprised that you could be tired even though it was still light out. “Well, we should continue my dear. I suggest we take the express!” Alastor exclaimed, grabbing you very close, hands on both sides of you, bringing you close. Then suddenly you were absorbed by his shadows and it felt as if you were sinking but being pulled out at the same time. By the time the world around you stopped moving you realised that he used his shadow magic to spit the two of you into the hallway between your hotel rooms.

Not entirely unpleasant but not really something you were looking to use as a main form of travel anytime soon. Alastor walked you the 6 steps to your door and the two of you had another minor staring contest, the silence thick, but your heartbeat pounding in your head. Or perhaps it was Alastors heartbeat, as he was still quite close to you. “I commend you on your brainchild from earlier, why I do believe it is something that even Lucifer Moriningstar can accomplish!” You opened your door and smirked at his comment.

“You better be careful, you’re essentially insulting Charlie by proxy, that is her father after all, I think we both learned how similar they can be today.” Alastors familiar laugh was followed up by radio laughter, something he only saved for what you figured was ‘true funny’. “Have a good night Alastor!” You slowly entered, holding the handle behind you as you thought about a foolish fantasy. It was so quiet, and you turned your head back around, only to meet the Radio Demons glowing eyes. Awe fuck me! You should have just walked in and shut the door like a smart person.

Alastor was suddenly right behind you, your head still turned around so sharply that you body had started to make the same turn. Alastor whispered into your ears, and it made your whole body break out in a sensual chill. “I believe you owe me something, darling.” He said in a low, breathy manner. His voice shot straight down to your core. Your jaw, opening and closing in awe, had him interrupting your thoughts once more. “A thank you would be grand, considering I was on my best behaviour!”

Holy shit were you glad he followed up his statement with what he wanted right away, because your mind went straight into the gutter”. A small mouthed ‘O’ fell on your lips and you turned your body around so you were facing him entirely now. You did a small curtsy, and said your polite and proper goodbyes. He bowed slightly before grabbing your chin and filled most of the gap, leaning in softly saying “good girl” basically right into your ear. Was that a moan, did you moan? Judging by the insane smile that filled his face, you had indeed. He backed his head up slightly to catch your eyes, and the two of you sported twin blushes and deep breathing. Somehow in the tete a tete happening between the two of you, you had grabbed the lapel of his coat while he still held your chin in place. He was so close to you it felt as if you were breathing in each other's air. You were certain it was only a moment but time felt as if it had slowed down. Your lips were just a hair apart now, and you could surely feel each other's faces burning. What was happening?

When a door down the hall clicked you both shot back from one another, Alastor wiping his hand down the front of his jacket as he walked backwards to his room, nodding a hello to Angel Dust as he stomped down the stairs. You said nothing, focusing on settling your heart rate, clutching one hand above your heart. And once again the two of you were alone, but the moment had passed. You gave him a small smile and said a quiet goodnight as you went into your room and closed the door, forcing yourself to not look back. Once the door was closed, you leaned against it, head propped against it as you looked up to the ceiling. What was happening to you?

Outside the door it sounded like Angel had returned, as a string of angry italian was being shouted in the hallways. There was a knock at your door. You opened it wide, expecting to see the tall spider demon. “Ang-“ suddenly there was a hand fisted into your hair, another wrapping around your waist, and Alastor had captured your mouth with his, enveloping you entirely.

The impact had your heart nearly explode with shock and your body surged with arousal immediately. The kiss was strong, desperate, and long. Seconds, moments, minutes -who cared. The two of you fought your lips against another, him inserting his long tongue into your mouth, gripping you tighter as he almost bent you in half, Alastor kissed you like a man possessed. You moaned into his mouth as he swallowed you whole. Your hands had come up to his collar to pull him in harder, and nothing but sucking and wet lips were heard for a moment. As quickly as it happened it ended, Alastor straightening out his jacket as he looked you over. You could imagine how tousled you looked. The overstimulation of the physical connection had the two of you breathing hard.

”Well, that certainly went a touch different than I expected,” Alastor started, licking his lips of the blood present. Had one of you bit a lip? Or bit the other's lip? Oh god, what the hell just happened. “My apologies for losing control of myself there dear, but usually a gentleman offers a lady a kiss goodnight after a night out.” He bowed to you again, his professional gentlemanly persona returned. You only nodded in agreement and he took his leave, giving a quick wave as he shut his door behind him.

Standing there for a few minutes easily you just couldn’t get over that your pussy was throbbing, and the sensation was not letting up. In fact, it felt like it was building up. Was he? Your eyes flew wide open as you slammed the door and jumped into bed, stripping your clothes off rapidly before laying under the covers and allowing the quick buildup of desire take over you. You were wet, soaked, and your hips were shifting in an attempt to add friction to the mix, but you were close enough just thinking about what the man across the hall was doing. Because of you. You finally placed your middle finger onto your clit and hissed at the contact. You were so hot with desire your hips bucked once pressure was applied. In return you could feel a second wave of buildup happening, and you moved your finger to match the pace. As you pinched one nipple to a hard nub and pulled at it you came, and you came hard. An animalistic groan escaped you as your orgasm took over, sending a shock through your system. Your body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

As your hand came to rest on the bed beside your hip, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling again. You had just had the most intense mutual masturbation orgasm with a demon. In the next room. On another level due to the blood magic the two of you were wrapped up in. You yawned, deciding it really didn’t matter at that very moment, you had eternity to focus on this strange path life had taken you on.

You bundled up in the blankets, body spent and mind exhausted, smiling as you drifted off to sleep.

____________

Remember, slow burn.

Also, I want to thank @hazelfoureyes for inspiring me to materialize my brainchild! Read her stuff, it’s honestly the best. Like, I’ve re-read it 6 times already the best. All of it.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @midorichoco @alastorssimp @xalygatorx

#alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x ofc #alastorxreader #alastor x you #soulmates trope #hazbin #alastorxyou #slow burn #Alastorxofc #radio demon smut #radio demon #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you

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sleepyangelkami · 2 days

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WITHOUT HESITATION j.todd

☆ WORD COUNT - 3K

JASON TODD X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - jason, almost too late, realises that you're in immediate danger. when he finds you and your sister in a flipped car rigged to blow, he makes the impending decision to save you and not her, without hesitation.

☆ WARNINGS - blood, gore, injury, explosions, car crash, arguing, worry/anxiety, the joker, mention of alcohol consumption, main character death (not j. or r.), grief, crying, (6) use of y/n, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

jason had realised much too late what was going on.

his head had been torn while working on the case with dick. what was joker going to do next, who was the target? after all, he never did go out without a bang. and he was getting closer and closer to the people they loved.

it was just a matter of time.

he had to admit, during all of this he'd managed to push you away. unintentionally, of course. you two were getting into it almost every day now. though he had to agree that it was his own doing and not yours. he'd snap, you'd merely stare, wondering what was wrong with him.

didn't you see? by the end of the week, joker would have gotham painted red if they didn't figure out his next move soon enough.

this was why jason was thankful your sister had come for the weekend to take you away. your sister, ashley, worked a long while away from gotham and it wasn't often that she came to see you. when she did, she turned her nose up at the sight. she never was a lover of gotham.

jason supposed, neither were you.

but as much as you hated the crime that circled gotham, the dirt on the street, the injustice of the entire city, you still loved it dearly. it was where you'd grown up and you just couldn't bring yourself to leave. so, you got a paying job, lived in the smallest of apartments where you spent most of your time with your lover. and if you and jason weren't there, you were spending time at the manor, wrapped up in jason's black sheets while he recited the books that lay on his night stand.

the trip ashley was taking you to would last a total of two days, the friday she came and the saturday after. you wouldn't be heading home until that sunday evening.

he hoped by then that he would have the case sorted out and it was safe enough for you to come home.

often times, he wondered what he was doing as red hood. perhaps it wasn't worth it anymore, would it be better to just let it all go? batman and nightwing could save gotham. he and you could live a normal, mundane, happy life. then he'd look at you in the midst of reading, glancing down at your closed eyes and pretty pouty lips. then, he'd be reminded of why he did what he did. to make gotham a better place for you and one day, for his family.

"you all set?" he questioned, shutting the trunk after lifting all your bags into the car. you'd told him you could do it yourself but he only insisted. he'd done enough to you in the past few days, you deserved this at least.

"yes." you grinned up at him, sweet as ever. even in he midst of chaos, you were the sweetest he'd ever seen. "apex grove awaits us!" you glanced to your sister who was sat in the car, leaning out the window with an ugly green suncap on her head apex grove written in yellow writing.

"it's gonna be the best weekend ever!" she was whooping in the car causing you to giggle at her antics. it would be the best weekend ever, for her, that was if she remembered any of it after she got shitfaced two nights in a row.

jason was not unfamilliar to your sister's drinking habits. but he thought what harm, it wasn't as if you were stupid enough to get dragged into it too. "you have fun, okay? not too much fun."

you listened to him huff out a laugh. "i will." before moving forward to let your head fall on his chest. hugging jason was what you assumed hugging clouds felt like. though you'd never experience it, you could still dream. "'m gonna miss you." you mumbled, only loud enough for the man to hear.

even during arguments, you were the only one that truly saw him.

you never blamed him for his short temper or his aggrivation he felt during cases like these. you only moved with caution, letting him know you were there. you were something he would be eternally grateful for.

"i'll miss you too, sweetheart." he mumbled back, pretty eyes glowing in the little sunlight that gotham got.

"bleh!" your sister yelled, rolling her eyes. "come on, y/n! we're gonna be late for the dinner reservation!"

"okay, bye." you reached up, kissing him on the lips ever so gently. "love you."

"love you too." watching as you made your way towards the passenger seat giddily. "take care of her!" placing his hands on his hips as though he were a mother.

"bye jason!" your sister only yelled back in response causing his brows to crease even further. was she trying to make him go grey in his prime? nevertheless, he waved towards your window until your sister's range rover left through the wayne manor's gates.

while watching them close on the way out, he felt a certain tightness in his chest. worry. he worried for you, worried that something would happen to you while you were gone. then he reassured himself that here was where the trouble was. if anything, he should be thankful you were anywhere but here.

you'd given jason a key to your apartment. you'd always insisted he'd take one anyway but he never did, you soon learned that was because he sort of liked coming through your window, grin on his face as you jumped sheepishly with a fright.

now, however, the key was forced into his back pocket.

you'd told him he'd better stay at yours for at least the nights, reassuring him that this whole joker business would get sorted out as it always did. you told him that whatever he was to do, he was at least to get sleep in your apartment and not stay cooped up in the manor wondering where joker will land next.

and he really wanted to make you happy, truly.

but it was now sunday and they were no closer than they were before.

bruce was injured, heavily so, from the joker's last attack. alfred had all but bedbound him, forcing him onto the lush mattress that costs more than your apartment complex put together.

so for the most part, it was just dick and jason on this one. tim was away and damian wasn't trusted on something so severe without the guidance of bruce.

alfred popped in once or twice to deliver food and assure that they were getting the rest and nutrition that they needed.

however, all the brothers could do was think the entire events over and look for clues. "three wheels on fire." dick's hands were clasped in his lap while he sat by the computers. "that's what he said, why didn't he show?"

the men had thought for sure that the joker would have struck at the fun fair. gotham was throwing one and there happened to be exactly three ferris wheels. "i don't know." leaning his face onto his hand that was propped onto the table. a map lay atop it. "maybe it was to throw us off his trail?"

"no chance!" dick quickly shut him down as he stood, pacing the cave. "maybe something went wrong. maybe he messed up. three wheels on fire, i mean, that was his chance! what else could he have been talking about." seconds passed before dick practically had a light bulb appear over his head. "a car? three cars?"

"that could be any three cars." jason waved him off. "how on earth would we figure out who? besides, three random civilians? don't you think it's a little too.... theatrical for three civilians?"

dick slumped back into his chair. "the joker does love his theatrics."

and jason had to agree with that. his eyes glanced down to the map, scanning it, until... "dick." his head turned. "hand me that red marker?" doing as he was told, dick handed jason the red marker that he used to scribble little dots against the page.

in confusion, the older boy watched him. he watched as fear suddenly took over his face, draining him to a ghostly while colour. dick hadn't seen jason scared of many things but whatever he had just uncovered... that was enough fear for a lifetime. "talk to me jaybird."

he swallowed thickly, already standing. "everywhere the joker's hit has been in pathway's through towns. every dot on the page is where he hit."

dick shook his head. "no, no, he didn't hit there." bulky finger lingering on the last spot on the page.

"no." he shook his head. "but it's the only dot that would connect the full circle. apex grove. it's where y/n is." the words came out sort of like a whisper, a whisper of pure fear.

"no, no, okay? you can't go off of some silly circle drawing, i mean, how do you know she's even in a car right now?" his hands were on jay's shoulders, trying to keep him steady in all his attempts. but jason's mind had already been clouded by fear and that enough had it made up.

"she's coming home tonight."

"that still doesn't prove anything!"

"dick." his face stern and steady. "if anything happens to her," voice cracking ever so softly. "if anything happens to her, i won't forgive myself."

dick swallowed too, realising perhaps jason was right. and even if he wasn't, was it a situation he was willing to put your life on the line for? "okay, let's go."

"it's so dark." you giggled, glancing out the window. you were... tispy, you could say. thing is, you'd been the sober one for friday and saturday night so ashley decided you were going to drink at least one night so she decided why not now, it wasn't as if you had to drive back to gotham, she had that handled.

"yeah." she chuckled. "tends to happen when the sun goes down." you hummed, sitting back up. you weren't exactly drunk, everything was just buzzing a little. "i didn't wanna ask because i didn't wanna ruin the whole night or anything but what was going on with you and jason?"

"what do you mean?" you questioned, turning your head to her while laying it against the seat. tiredness consumed you whole and while you'd loved this little getaway with your sister, you were thankful to be sleeping in your apartment bed tonight.

she shrugged her shoulders, eyes set on the dark road ahead. "i don't know, thought there was a little tension or something."

"we had a little fight." you admitted, absentmindedly gazing out the window. "but it's okay, all couples fight, right?" you couldn't tell her why you'd fought because that would include telling her about the fact that he worked with batman against the joker and that didn't seem like a great way to tell her.

"oh yeah, you should see me and theo." theo was her husband, the father to her kid, teddy, it was supposed to be sort of like theo but you didn't know if that was how it actually sounded. "we fight all the time."

"but you love him." you added.

"oh yeah, to bits." grinning and for a split second, glancing at you. "and as a girl in love, i can tell when other people are in love. and you and jason are just... soulmates." you huffed out a little laugh. "no, seriously, i've never seen two people so in love. i mean, all through highschool, i really thought you were gonna end up a crazy old cat lady."

"i do like cats."

"mm, always did."

BANG !

jason swore he broke every speed limit known to man, he didn't care. he couldn't care. dick waited until the motorbike slowed to a stop.

the men discarded the vehicles before stepping onto the road, staring in shock.

in the darkness of the night, a range rover could be made out, lights still on, though it appeared only one was working. it had been flipped on it's backside, one wheel discarded on the other side of the road. what had hit them? jason had no idea but what he did know was that there was a kind of ringing in his ear, fear.

"is that them, jason?!" it wasn't the first time dick had yelled out the question.

though his voice suddenly brought him back to life, his brows knitted. "the car's not on fire." he mumbled, confused. "dick, the car isn't on fire."

"oh shit." instinctively taking a step back. "it's gonna blow up."

the words should have registered in jason's mind to get the fuck out of there. instead, he ran towards the car.

he heard the faint yell of "jason!" from behind him. but there was only one thing on jason's mind as of now. and that was you.

he found you quick enough, popping off the door with his strength instead of wasting any more time. he could see you flipped in the passenger seat, your sister next to you. even when blood dripped from your forehead and your nose, gash against your hairline, you looked almost peaceful, as if you were only sleeping.

it caused genuine fear in him. jason swore he'd never been so scared.

knowing that at any moment the car could explode, he grabbed your limp body with ease, carrying it until you were a safe enough distance from the car and setting you down on the ground.

"y/n? baby, can you hear me?" dick watched as his baby brother held his limp girlfriend in his arms. "y/n, wake up. wake up!" as if in some distant world, you'd heard him, your eyes slowly peeled themselves awake. "there you are, there you are, huh?" though a laugh emitted his mouth, there were tears in the corner of your boyfriends eyes.

confusion washed over you, eyes hazy. "where am i?" but before you could receive an answer, everything came flooding back and you began sitting up, turning your head. "where's ashley?"

you were leaning on your arm, the other had a wound soaking through your shirt.

the men didn't respond, glancing to one another. going in there meant risking their lives. and sure, they risked their lives every day for the people of gotham but that car could blow at any minute. "where is she?" you practically cried, eyes turning to the flipped car behind jason. "she's still in there?!"

"y/n, listen―"

you cut dick off, trying to stand. "no! no! i have to get her!"

jason held you though it didn't take much, your body already weak. "sweetheart, the car is gonna blow, we can't risk you―"

"i have to save her! get off!" as much as you tried to writhe against him, it worked at no avail. "jason, get off me! jason!" dick's heart pained as jason's hand soothed the back of your head, pushing it against his shoulder.

BANG !

you swore you screamed, you heard a scream, you think. it was all really hard to remember. you clawed at jason, crying into his redhood suit shoulder, sobbing horrendously as you watched the car that held your sister burst into flames.

jason held you, not uttering a word and watching dick flee the scene, most likely in suit of finding the joker. he could only hold you close, listening you scream the word 'no' on repeat.

"i know, i know." he swore he could feel his own eyes muddling with the same glassy tears that yours were covered with. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry."

at some point, you turned your eyes away from the explosion, face in jason's chest. you no longer fought against him, crying so loudly as he held your wrists against him, trying everything in his will to pick the pieces of you up. but in some way, he felt as though he'd caused them.

"she's gone." you sobbed out violently against him. "she's gone." the words repeated in your brain. you'd lost many people to gotham but never did you think you'd lose her, anyone but her.

"baby, you're bleeding." blood covered your hands and his, practically dripping down your face. "we need to get you to a hospital."

but you were beyond the point of caring, blubbering with few whimpers between. all you could think was your pretty sister, a husband and a kid, burned away in an explosion. she was gone and she was not coming back. "i- i can't." hyperventilating out the words. "i can't l-leave."

"i got you." you felt him help you off the stone ground, your knees weak. though nothing really registered, a ringing in your ears. even hours later, he kept repeating the same words. "i got you. i got you." sitting on the hospital bed next to you while you sat with a sullen look in your eyes. you were far away, that much was obvious but no longer stained with the vicious blood.

"she's gone." it came out much calmer now, though tears still coated your glassy red eyes. "why didn't you take her and not me?" though it was a stupid question.

even in your clouded mind you knew that if he could do it all over again, he wouldn't change a thing.

"i had to save you." he answered.

when he saw you were in that flipped over car, knowing there was a chance he could have blown up with you, he took it anyway, grabbing your limp body without hesitation.

he'd rather die than let something happen to you.

and in this case, he'd rather let someone else die than any harm to come to you. and that was simply something he wasn't afraid to admit.

he could lose. he had lost. he lost almost everything from his family to the world around him. but he couldn't lose you. no, anything but you.

main masterlist/jason's masterlist

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lyxthen · 3 days

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My Seven Year Gap narumitsu headcanon is that not only did Miles help Phoenix build the MASON, he actually became chief prosecutor with the objective of helping him instaurate the jurist system.

By the time Trials and Tribulations comes around, I feel like the two of them are in a point in their relationship where they aren't too prone to angsting about each other. They trust each other fully. So when Phoenix pushes Miles away, Miles assumes it's for a good reason, even if it still hurts.

He does tell Miles eventually, in that mythical trip to Europe, when he knows for ceirtain Kristoph can't hear him (the guy probably keeps track of his phone calls bank accounts and has his house bugged as all hell because he's insane like that). He still doesn't tell Miles how bad he's struggling emotionally, and how the reason he's drinking so much grape juice is because he struggled with horrible depression alcoholism, particularly early in his disbarment. He just tells him about Kristoph and the Gramarye trial and how he's trying to connect the dots and find the truth and clear his name.

And you know what Edgeworth does? He tells him, "So, basically, you want to fundamentally change the way the Japanifornian justice system works. Wright, you are fucking insane. And I must be insane too because of course by god I'm going to help you." After all, foreign justice systems are his expertise. He's been studying this shit for years, and he finally gets a chance to put that knowledge to use.

It's hard for them to get any work done without Kristoph suspecting them, of course, but by some miracle they manage it. Edgeworth applies for a position as chief prosecutor a year or two before the events of Apollo Justice, explicitly because he wants to amass enough political power to implement their silly little project. When the disgraced former defense attorney comes one day with an insane outline of how to reform the entire court system no one dares to reject him, because he's already got chief prosecutor Miles Edgeworth in his pocket.

Smooth. As. Fuck.

They have spent years planning and scheming and it has finally come to this. Their professional relationship is blooming. Their personal relationship... Well, they're not in bad terms by any means but like, come on. These two are extremely emotionally repressed so it's not like they are going to openly declare their undying loyalty to each other and get married or something. But they are perfectly capable of working in harmony with each other, and that's as good as either of them think they're going to get.

I feel like this time line of events makes sense. I don't see Phoenix building MASON alone, let alone implement it. He doesn't have that sort of clout or analytical mind. But Edgeworth does. It's just a testament to how compatible they are that they are able to work together to find the truth™ and change things for the better. Shipping aside, I just think that's really cool.

#ace attorney #apollo justice #aa4 #narumitsu #wrightworth #aa meta #miles edgeworth #disbarred phoenix wright #phoenix wright

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oliversrarebooks · 3 days

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The Rare Bookseller Part 48: Fitz's Charms

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June 1905

TW: mind control, blood drinking

Fitz once again had a plan.

It wasn't much of one. But the past few days in the auction house, he'd had little to do but sleep, eat, play solitaire, read the books and magazines Alexander brought him, and think about how he could escape his seemingly inevitable fate.

It certainly didn't help that Alexander would fix him with a look of intense longing every time he returned to the room, catching Fitz in his gaze and invoking the intense, unnatural urge for fangs in his neck. The horror of the night of the auction hadn't washed that compulsion from his mind at all, and his dreams as he drifted off to sleep were full of Alexander pulling him close, whispering his mesmeric song in Fitz's ear, humming softly as he bit into Fitz's tender flesh...

And yet, despite Alexander's very obvious desire, and the fact that he now owned Fitz (give or take his terrifying sire, who Fitz wished to put far from his mind), he never so much as laid a hand on him, explaining that he'd rather feed at home.

Fitz didn't accept this. They had complete privacy in the auction house room and Alexander had originally intended to buy Fitz for exactly this purpose. He'd barely been able to hold himself back in the showroom, and he was obviously struggling to hold himself back now. No, there was something else at play. After giving it a great deal of thought, Fitz concluded that the most likely explanation was that Alexander did not want to grow too attached to him. Despite his grand promises, it was clearly difficult for Alexander to defy his sire in any way. If Alexander's plans to kill the Maestro failed, it would be much easier for Alexander if he didn't care, if he could simply hand over Fitz without a second thought.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Endearing himself to Alexander would be the key to his safety and eventually his escape, Fitz reckoned, particularly if Fitz could avoid getting entangled in inconvenient affection himself. It would possibly afford him more freedom and privilege, and the more Alexander valued him, the more he'd be spurred on to save Fitz from his cruel sire.

And there was one obvious way to start that process: enticing Alexander to feed.

The fact that this plan happened to dovetail with his own enthralled desires was just a happy accident, nothing more.

Fitz had been scheming the entire carriage ride to Alexander's manor, trying to look as enticing as possible in the shapeless frock the auction house had provided for him. Alexander spent most of the ride very interested in the bland scenery of the country road, looking anywhere but at Fitz, his aura betraying where his interests truly lay and sending Fitz's head spinning.

"Well, here we are. Please make yourself at home." said Alexander, removing his coat and shoes at the doorway as Fitz looked around. The manor looked considerably smaller than his childhood home, certainly older, and infused with the musty smell of old books.

A dusty intellectual, then, just as Fitz had suspected. He could work with that. Lord knows he'd charmed his way into the homes of many such an intellectual just by feigning interest in rare plants or mystery stories or whatever bee they had in their bonnet.

"I should show you around," saidAlexander. "This will be your home, now, and I want you to be comfortable. You're free to go where you please in the manor, and use what you will, as long as you don't harm the books or the instruments, or enter my private chambers uninvited. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal, sir," said Fitz, deliberately stepping much too close to Alexander, enjoying how he squirmed. It gave Fitz the welcome illusion that he had the upper hand, despite being locked into the manor of the vampire who owned him.

Alexander first took Fitz into an old-fashioned kitchen that was spotlessly clean. "I'll provide you with whatever food you request, but I'll expect you to cook it yourself. Can you cook?"

No, no he could not. Fitz's family had had a chef, and since running away, Fitz had only rented out rooms without access to a kitchen. He'd subsisted mainly on sandwiches, the cheapest diner food he could find, and, when he'd worked as a waiter, as much food from back of house as he could snatch. But Alexander didn't need to know that. How hard could basic cooking be? "I'll try not to burn the place down, sir."

"Burn the place down? You wouldn't --"

"That was a joke, sir."

"...Oh, yes." Alexander took a deep breath, apparently having taken that entirely seriously.

"Are there any other thralls living here, sir?" Fitz already suspected the answer, given Alexander's air of desperation and how clean the kitchen was.

"No, it's only you."

"Very good, sir." That would certainly work to his advantage.

As Alexander left the kitchen and Fitz followed at his heels, he couldn't help but think of the food that awaited him. He believed that Alexander would keep him fed -- after all, he was apparently depending on Fitz alone for blood, and even the auction house had kept its prisoners fed well. His mouth was watering thinking of the steak and chicken he could be eating.

He'd just need to learn how to use a stove first. A minor detail.

"I hope you'll enjoy this. It's my music room," said Alexander, leading Fitz into an ornate room with a grand piano at its center. It was covered in a mess of sheet music and the bench was worn, indicating that it wasn't just a piano for show as many rich families had, but very well-used. An impressive collection of other instruments sat on the floor or hung from racks on the walls - a beautiful guitar that Fitz immediately coveted, several fine-looking violins, a brightly-painted harpsichord, a polished oboe.

"Yes, I do enjoy it, sir," said Fitz, lighting up. This was ideal -- music would be a way to pass the time and endear himself to his new master all at the same time. He gestured toward that gorgeous piano. "Do you mind, sir?"

"Not at all. You did mention you play, didn't you?"

"I do, sir," said Fitz with a cheeky grin. "Just listen." He sat down at the bench, making a dramatic show of stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles, pleased to see Alexander giving him full attention. With a deft hand, he launched into a familiar ragtime tune, keeping time by tapping his foot on the floor. He was out of practice, having not played a music gig in several months, but despite a wrong note here and there he could still produce a pleasant enough tune. He looked up to see Alexander absolutely enraptured, a better response than expected considering his rusty piano skills.

"That was wonderful," he said. "What song was that? I've never heard it."

"You've never heard the Maple Leaf Rag, sir?"

"I tend to be rather sheltered when it comes to newer music."

"Is that so, sir?" With a smile and a flourish, Fitz stood up and gestured to the piano bench. "In that case, I would like to hear some of your older music, if you don't mind playing, sir."

Alexander looked surprised and pleased at Fitz's request. "If you don't mind listening, I don't mind playing. It's far from perfect, though, I should warn you."

As Fitz leaned gently against the piano, Alexander took a small breath before starting in on the most complicated and arresting piano music Fitz had heard in his life. Nimble hands flew across the keys in patterns that were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye, and despite Alexander claiming his performance was far from perfect, Fitz couldn't have identified one wrong note or missed beat if he tried. It was the sort of song and performance that demanded full attention, driving all other considerations out of the listener's head.

Despite the intense skill required to play the piece, Alexander's expression was not one of concentration. Instead, he seemed far away, as though his mind had departed his body.

"I'm a bit rusty. Apologies," said Alexander in all seriousness as he finished, as though he hadn't just given a virtuoso performance as casually as Fitz could plunk out a children's tune.

"That was... astounding, sir," said Fitz, caught off guard enough by the music that he didn't have a calculated answer. "I've never heard anything like it. What was the song?"

"It's a piano concerto written by a vampire composer, so not one you would have likely heard of. His works take advantage of the greater nimbleness afforded our kind." Alexander seemed oddly melancholy about having had the chance to show off a truly impressive skill. "Anyway, why don't we move on?"

He stood up abruptly from the piano bench, leaving Fitz to follow again, wondering what his next move should be. He'd thought the piano would be a winner, but it had only seemed to increase the distance between him and Alexander.

"Allow me to show you my pride and joy, the library," said Alexander.

Fitz inwardly scoffed. How could a library possibly be more interesting than the music room? He'd seen plenty of personal libraries in his time, and had never been all that impressed by a rich person's ability to gather a bunch of dusty books they never actually read. Still, he'd have to pretend to be impressed.

It turned out that there was no need to pretend. This wasn't some small parlor with a few bookshelves. No, this so-called library actually took up what looked to be an entire wing of the manor. It was two stories high with bookshelves stretching straight to the ceiling, punctuated by rickety wooden ladders. And like the piano, it was very clearly in use, with books scattered all around the chairs and tables and lying in big stacks on a large wooden desk.

"Well, what do you think?" said Alexander, clearly looking for approval in a way he hadn't with his piano playing.

"It's an astonishing amount of books, sir," said Fitz. "Have you actually read every one of these?"

"Most of them, yes, but there are some I haven't read cover to cover. Some of them are astoundingly dull histories that mostly have a place in cross-referencing other works."

Fitz leaned in close once more. "Astoundingly dull histories, sir? You certainly do know how to charm a man."

Alexander didn't move away. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've attempting to charm me."

"And is it working, sir?" Fitz stepped closer, pleased when Alexander found himself nearly pressed against one of his bookshelves.

"Perhaps." Alexander seemed to be trying to compose himself. "Although I confess I don't see what the purpose is. At the auction house, you were trying to convince me to buy you. You did succeed, even if the ultimate outcome wasn't what either of us hoped. What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Isn't it enough to want to please you, sir? Must you assume I have an ulterior motive?"

Alexander seemed amused. "Oh, I know you have an ulterior motive. I'm only asking what it is."

"I was just thinking that you bought me for a reason, sir." Fitz had him practically backed up against the bookshelf by now. "And that reason so happens to coincide with the spell that our mutual acquaintance placed on me. So it's less of an ulterior motive, and more that our interests conveniently align."

Alexander's eyes darted to Fitz's neck, his composure rapidly waning, and Fitz felt a thrill of power. For the first time since that fateful night when Miss Lily had volunteered to be his assistant, he felt like he had control over the situation, that he could skillfully manipulate things to go his way.

"Lily did condition you very well," said Alexander, his voice wavering. "But I did intend for you to get settled in first before I sated my appetite."

"I'm pretty well settled, sir. I think I'm going to be able to make myself very comfortable here. But I don't want you holding back on what you really want to do. That never works out for anyone."

"Is that so?"

"You wanted me to offer my blood to you, didn't you, sir? That's what you told me when we first met. Well, here I am. Offering." Fitz shamelessly pulled aside the collar of his frock, exposing his neck, enjoying the way Alexander's desire was settling around his mind, the way he had the vampire eating out of the palm of his hand.

It happened so fast.

Fitz was being pushed onto the couch, cold hands gripping his shoulders, a mesmerizing song ringing in his ears. Unlike Alexander's measured song at the auction house, this was desperate, needy, wrapping around Fitz's mind and pulling it beneath the waves before he could even comprehend what was happening. His plans and manipulation no longer mattered, dashed to pieces in the whirlpool of Alexander's irresistible voice.

The only thing that mattered now was listening.

"You will obey, won't you?" whispered Alexander in his ear.

"Yes, Master." The instinctive reply tumbled from his lips, and he wasn't remotely prepared for how right it felt. How good he felt falling back into the magic.

No, the vampire was never eating out of the palm of his hand. That was an illusion, smoke and mirrors he set up to trick himself. Alexander was absolutely in control, and there was nothing he could do about it. But unlike the absolute control Alexander's sire had used on his body, this was like rest and calm and bliss all at once, quieting his busy mind, soothing it in a way he was rarely soothed, forcing a sweet surrender.

"You'll feel no pain. Only pleasure when I drink from you."

"Only pleasure, Master." That's it, that's all there was. Only pleasure from being buried in a tidal wave of his master's desire.

And then the fangs were in his neck, finally fulfilling the promise that was made to him the moment he'd been enthralled, and the remainder of his mind crumbled in an instant. His master drank hungrily from the twin wounds, lapping at the precious drops of blood, as Fitz slumped onto his shoulder, sinking into a euphoric daze. Fitz could somehow feel every drop of his master's intense desire for him, and it felt like Narcissus looking into his pool, like a starving man served a lavish banquet, like he would never be satiated.

He was wanted, oh, he was wanted and wanted and wanted --

The feeding was over too soon, too soon for Fitz to fully savor the dizziness in his head and the heaviness in his limbs from his master's feast, the proof of his quality. The proof that Fitz was worth something to someone.

"Such a good thrall," Alexander murmured as he cradled Fitz's head against his chest. "You're perfect, Fitz. You're absolutely perfect. And I'm not going to let anyone else touch you, not my sire, not anyone. You're mine."

"Yours, sir," said Fitz, and he had promised that very thing to so many people, but he'd never actually meant it until now.

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Next time, Alexander gets drunk.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump

#whump #whump writing #vampire whump #vampire whumper #mind control #blood drinking #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

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