#So Roman would actually be there for his kid even if it's something as stupid as a nightmare | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

georgiapeach30513 · 1 month

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With Your Touch, Part 2

Summary: Lloyd has some rules, and very little control.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual tension, video sex, a bit of voyeurism, implied male masturbation, teasing, daddy issues, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Shh, sweetheart. We’ve got to tell your daddy you need a proper middle name. Unless you’re European. Can you tell me if you are?” Lyla giggles a bit, reaching a hand up to touch your face. “Oh, I knew it. You want one. So what do you think your dad will like an A name? A B name?” The baby squeals so loud you hear Lloyd’s loud banging stop. Pausing while he focuses on Lyla’s voice.

“Was that a good sound or bad? I haven’t learned her noises. Cries. Voice. I don’t know what the correct terminology would be, but I haven’t learned it.”

“It isn’t bad. She’s communicating with me.”

“What?” His voice is laced in so much confusion that you find it so endearing. He was obnoxious, but trying. His rules for you as the au pair were a bit too much, but the pay was ridiculously good. And Chase didn’t live too far. He could sneak in.

You walk into Lyla’s room, wanting to laugh as Lloyd curses at the crib he was trying to put together. Looking down at the sweet baby in your arms as her daddy throws something else, “He’s pitching a fit.”

“No the — no, I’m not. This stupid thing is impossible with these dumbass directions. And she can’t sleep in her bedroom. I don’t want her to sleep in the portable crib anymore. I want her to have a space of her own. I highly doubt her whore of a mother gave her that. And yes, she is. Any woman that drops off a baby with their father who knows fuck all about kids is a whore and shitty human being. And Lyla, I apologize. I’m working on not talking like an asshole around her.”

Working on it, and failing miserably, it is still cute he thinks he’s going to change that quickly. Even just acknowledging that type of language isn’t suitable for her is a start. “And here I am in over my head, putting together an overly pink bedroom for her because she didn’t ask to be born, and I am extra.”

“Yeah, designer baby clothes aren't what a lot of parents do.”

“How did your father dress you?”

Chuckling, you put Lyla in her carrier. You place her slightly behind, but still beside Lloyd, and plant yourself beside him, grabbing up the directions. “Roman didn’t dress me. My mother did. Roman might have paid for things, but my mom was the one that was there always. So you’re doing a lot better than him.”

“Is this a moment you tell me you have daddy issues?”

Snorting, you look up at him, shaking your head no, “This is me telling you my experience with my father. Having a dad in a girl’s life makes a difference. I call him Roman. What do you want Lyla to call you?”

“Dad.”

“You know you didn’t hesitate?” Taking a deep inhale, Lloyd grabs the directions from you, busying himself in reading them. You don’t think he actually is looking at them, he’s absorbing what you said, while also refusing to look at you and show you his vulnerability. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t she have a middle name?”

“Why does she need one?”

“What’s your middle name?” You counter quickly, and he leans back. His eyes gazing over your body. Wondering where the hell you came from because clearly you didn’t know who he was.

He narrows his eyes, looking at you and then his daughter. Lyla can’t help but to giggle at him. Tiny little thing. You wonder if she was malnourished or just a bit miniature anyways. “Bennett,” he waits to see if you react before continuing. “Why does she need one?”

“Beatrice,” he looks down at the baby who chuckles again. “She likes you, and she told me she wanted a name that started with B, and now I find out your name starts with a B. I think you and your daddy are a perfect pair, don’t you Miss Lyla Bee?” Despite whatever nonsense her mother had her living in, she's a happy baby. One that is very much aware of her daddy. Her bright green eyes focus on him when he looks at her.

“Lyla Bee. I like that. She’s like my little bumble bee. Should we get rid of all the pink and change it to bumble bees? Did I make a mistake with the pink? What if she doesn’t like pink?”

You shrug your shoulders. It really didn’t matter what she liked. She seemed to like her dad, and he adored her, and wanted to do right by her. “I think we should keep the pink. Here, you tend to the baby, and let me have a go at this crib. You’re messing everything up. And she really likes you.”

“But you’re the au pair?” He says, holding onto Lyla. He gives his finger to her, and her little baby fingers wrap around him tightly.

“And you’re mucking up this crib. Can I? I helped my mom with my little brother’s crib. It was a long time ago. But,” you go silent, grabbing the directions back from Lloyd. Using the same tactic he did earlier. Focus on this and ignore the questions, “No, Roman is not his father.”

“Didn’t ask,” he didn’t have to. Everyone else did. Your brother was an angel, and his father was…well, he was there. He made sure that Vincent was taken care of. Might not have offered you any attention, but you weren’t his responsibility.

“You thought it, so that was enough. I like the simple, but extravagant theme you went for in her bedroom though. Even if the Dior bunny is a bit much.”

“She likes it,” he chuckles, looking down at his daughter. “My partner told me buying things is my love language.”

“You must really love your daughter then,” he whispers out ‘yeah’, not realizing how much it hurts you that he loves someone he just met. And your father knew about you during the pregnancy. You didn’t have daddy issues. You had men issues. Men couldn’t be trusted. There were to be looked at, and put to good use.

You flop down on the seat next to Lloyd on the couch with a cup of microwave macaroni and cheese. You take a bite of the easy dinner, glancing at the television while Lloyd scowls. His eyes drift over your body, slightly confused. Watching as your jaw pulses with your chews.

“I feel you watching me,” he didn’t hide his facial expressions. You could read exactly what he was thinking by the quirks of his brows and mouth alone. Not that you had been paying attention to his mouth.

“What is that dreadful shit you’re eating?”

You turn your body towards him, and slowly take another bite. Noting how his eyes go to your mouth as he watches you chew in disgust. “It only took three and a half minutes to make.”

“It smells like it did. But what are you eating?” This man has been rich his entire life. Didn’t even know the joys of microwaveable food.

“It’s mac and cheese,” you giggle. Scooping out a bit, and you hold the spoon out for him. “Try it.”

“I’d rather not,” his face no longer disgusted, but more indifferent.

“Because you’re scared to eat after me?” He rolls his eyes as you take another bite of the sinfully delicious and preservative filled dinner. It probably had too much sodium in it, and the way you dressed it up surely didn’t help. But it was simple and comforting all the same. Lloyd could learn to loosen up a bit. Bring himself down to a ‘normal lifestyle’.

“While sharing a spoon with you does repulse me. The idea of eating something that came out of a microwave is just as disgusting. Did your father not feed you well?”

“Roman,” you emphasize his name. One day Lloyd would understand that Roman was nothing but a sperm donor and a bank. “He didn’t feed me. My mother did. And she wanted me to be normal.”

“Eating proper food is normal,” you liked him. Legitimately liked him. He also didn’t get offended when you popped back. He probably always had someone around him ready to take orders. That is until you.

“I mean have the American dream.”

“Yes, the American dream is definitely to eat food that is cheaper than toilet paper.”

Slowly blinking, you watch him watch you. Something that should be uncomfortable with the lack of a baby as a buffer wasn’t. You wanted to bring him back down to earth. He was a bit pompous and a lot of an asshole, and you still liked it. “I’m going to make you a cup.”

“Please don’t,” his voice is flat as he watches you jump up from the couch.

“And you’re going to at least try it.”

“I’d rather not,” he is too stiff and robotic with his movements. You want to reach over to his shoulders and make him slouch. Maybe if you made him laugh or shook him? Made him dance with you? You were going to make him break.

“And after you’ve tried it, if you still think the same we can drop it. But what I put into my body is my business. What you put into yours is your business. We won’t judge one another. You can oblige me by cooking me and Lyla Bee a delicious dinner one evening. I’ll humor you, and try your rich people food, mkay?”

This isn’t at all what Lloyd had bargained for. A girl who was given no boundaries. But you had helped him get Lyla’s bedroom in order. She was even sleeping soundly in her crib while a monitor sat on the coffee table. You hadn’t complained when he would start throwing things in a fit. And somehow managed to calm him down.

“Fine, but I don’t cook. I have a private chef,” he responds, following you into the kitchen. Eyeing you as you go into the pantry. “Where did this come from?”

Sighing, you open up the fridge producing a container of shredded cheese, and walk to the counter. “I had it delivered while you were taking a nap with Lyla. It’s really cute to see you sleeping with a baby on your chest. You know, I could watch her. Nap time leaves me nothing to do but use Roman’s card to have some food delivered here.”

“I read you should try to bond with your baby whenever you can. I missed time with her. Wait — you were watching me sleep?” It was quick, but you saw his smirk. Did he like you watching him sleep? That almost feels like an invasion of privacy. Or did he like that you looked at him? Called him cute? What was this?

“It got quiet in the apartment. So I went to find you,” and you might have wandered around the giant apartment as well. His bedroom was just the first place you looked. And you might have enjoyed what you saw, and you might have created a quick but stupid scenario of your husband doing that. Not Lloyd in particular, just a blank faced man who may or may not have had a mustache.

“You’re a snoop?”

“I’m curious by nature,” it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t looking for something to hurt or burn Lloyd with. Just wanted to give a gander through everything. “So what exactly are my hours? When you’re here do you want me to be here? Can I request time off? Have a social life? You won’t exactly let me have people here, and I do respect that. This is yours and Lyla’s space, and I know with your line of work discretion is advised. But I can’t have my only friends be you and a baby. I do have a boyfriend, and I fear I won’t if I don’t see him.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lloyd smirks. That smile dies quickly as he watches you mix up the cheese concoction to the now completed noodles, and slide the disposable container to him. “You’re not going to put this in a real bowl?”

After washing your hands, you splash a bit of water on him. Giggling when his face turns into a snarl, “Loosen up. This is microwave food. And I need to see other people. Do you not like Chase?”

“His name is dumb,” rolling your eyes, you look away from him. Listening for any signs of movement on the monitor while Lloyd takes a tentative bite of the mac and cheese. Curling up his nose until the spoon touches his tongue, and you see his eyebrows go up. “But this isn’t that bad.”

“What’s wrong with his name?”

“Chase is a verb,” he answers matter of fact. He was going to be one of those. Complete alpha male, and you were bringing someone into his home that was hurting his ego. You weren’t even sure if Chase was the one, but he is definitely the one right now. You didn’t meet your forever person in college, and you’re not even sure you believe in that. You just find someone you tolerate and make sure the sex is good. Plus Chase was amazing to look at and a lot of fun.

“And I don’t want boys in and out of Lyla Bee’s life,” he liked the way the nickname you gave her sounded. It suited his sweet little bee. She had proven to be the sweetest and most cuddly baby he’d ever met. But he had only met one.

“I can respect that as long as you respect the fact that he is my boyfriend,” Lloyd didn’t really want to or have to for that matter. But you were new to this life and to him. You’d eventually see that Lloyd commanded all. Not that he would torture you like he did some. As long as you followed the rules.

“Fine.”

“Is it okay that I came out here tonight? Would you rather me stay holed up in my room? Alone?”

“No,” he answers, walking to the garbage can to dispose of the trash. He heads towards the sink, washing his spoon quickly before leaving you to go back into the living room. Leaving you with more questions than answers.

“No, as in it’s okay that I came out?”

“Were you supposed to stay in your bedroom and starve?” Well that was a simple question to answer. But it was your first night here, and you didn’t know what boundaries he had that you shouldn’t cross. “I don’t expect us to be best friends. But we live together. You’re the woman that takes care of my daughter, and I’m the man.”

Saying it in such simple terms made this arrangement sound strange. You didn’t want to be an au pair, and didn’t see yourself living with a man and his daughter. His baby daughter, who couldn’t even crawl. Currently you think about this weird living situation, and how lines could easily become blurred here.

“What are my duties?”

“You’ve already told me that you have daddy issues, and now you’re asking me what your duties are? Please. I’m going to bed. This line of question is — it’s not good for me. Goodnight, Dolly. Stay up as long as you like, but in the morning I’ll be gone. Tomorrow will be all your responsibility. I’ve added a monitor to your room. If it’s before five, I can tend to her.”

He walks off leaving you with even more questions. Why did he suddenly have that outburst? What had made him seem so sensitive? And you didn’t have daddy issues. You were just fine without your father. You didn’t seek the approval of a man, or needed one to keep you in line. Sure you might watch Lloyd with Lyla and wish that Roman had even an ounce of care that Lloyd had shown in the first few hours that you met him.

Lyla is lucky to have a man that stepped up to be her father. He didn’t have to. From what you understand he didn’t even know of her existence, but it didn’t matter. She was his priority.

Exhaling deeply, you turn off all the lights, and walk to your bedroom. You’d promised Chase you would call once you were settled in bed. You’d leave the awkward talk with Lloyd for tomorrow, or whenever he decided to show up. Giving a look towards his door instead of Lyla’s telling yourself you would crack him. It was one day, and things wouldn’t always be this awkward.

Sitting on your overly plush bed, you call up Chase, and he answers on the first ring, “FaceTime me. I want to see you.”

Flipping it over to a video call, you see his handsome face, and smile like a schoolgirl. “Nice room. Have you figured out how I’m going to be able to sneak in there?”

“Chase!”

“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I’ve never fucked an au pair before,” you roll your eyes. Letting the camera drift a bit before pulling apart your pajama top. Giving him a quick flash of your chest. “Oh, princess, I like that. Is that why you called me? We’ve never had phone sex before.”

”Being around a baby and a man child today made me miss you,” you give him a little pout. The performance that he loved so much, and you just enjoyed to see him get feral. “All I could think about was falling asleep because you wore me out.”

”I could fucking wear you out.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”

“I know how you like an audience. Maybe not actually seeing you, but you love when people can hear you. You think daddy Lloyd would have a problem hearing you whisper my name?” Daddy Lloyd? Now why did that give you a bit of a pause. A rumble in your belly that you hadn’t expected. Ignoring a few of Chase’s words as your mind ponders, going in so many different directions of why those words strung together made you…feel.

“He’d hear you gasping for breath as I stab into that sweet little cunt. Or maybe he’d walk in to see you riding me. Why don’t you remind me how you ride me,” you hum at him, and he pans the camera down to his lap, and he’s gripping the base of his cock so tightly. Beads of precum gather at the tip. Normally he’d have his cock already covered in a condom. But seeing him in all his glory is doing something to you.

“Grab a pillow, and pretend it’s me. I’ll stroke my cock to whatever pace you set.”

—

Lloyd flops to the other side. Grabbing his pillow he covers his head thinking about anything besides what he is hearing. He shouldn’t have added the camera to your room. But to be fair the cameras were in every fucking room in the apartment. How was he going to protect you and his daughter if he didn’t know what was going on?

Maybe the ones in the bathroom were too much, but they weren’t pointing at the toilet. My god, he wanted to look. Wanted to turn the volume down. Wanted to get that stupid verb out of his mind. But the verb wouldn’t stop talking. It isn’t even fair that you are whispering. It is normal for people to masturbate. You’d just sound better without his pathetic attempts at phone sex.

“Ugh,” Lloyd growls. He could exit out of the app if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Is it because he didn’t want to? Is it because he liked the sound of your sweet noises? Or is it because it had been too long since he had felt something besides his hand? He isn’t sure. The only thing he was truly positive about was you were killing him.

All fucking day. Acting all innocent and oblivious. He’d been away from women for too long, and you were…you knew what you were doing. Your cute little domestic moments with his daughter. You made him army ration mac and cheese that were at least edible. You helped him. You didn’t even ask, you just sat down and helped him. And you were sweet with his baby.

His emotions are conflicting with his need to…

He had to stop this utter nonsense. He isn’t a rational man, but he did what he had to do with the cameras. And now it’s backfiring on him because you can’t fucking whisper a moan. Why did your heavy breathing sound so sexy?

Why did he want to look? Were you topless? One peek wouldn’t hurt. But it would be crossing a line. How would he feel if someone was doing this with his daughter? He wouldn’t like it. You were Roman’s daughter. Even though he didn’t tell him you had the prettiest…

Nope. He is spiraling down into a sinful rabbit hole. His cock is too hard and angry and it is killing him to not look. He even fears grabbing his phone to turn down the volume will make him want to watch you. See you do whatever the fuck you are doing. Judging by the sounds and whatever The Verb was saying, you are grinding on a fucking pillow.

One look won’t hurt.

Nope, he can’t do this. He throws the blanket off him. Sitting up in the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees. Head in his hands as he tries to make his cock calm down. He was lonely. But it feels even wrong to fuck his fist because your voice is what got him hard.

This arrangement was needed, but this is difficult. Feeling a bit impossibly hard right now. Everything was hard. Including his fucking cock. It was quaking with the need to be dealt with.

Shaking his head, he stands up. His cock pressing uncomfortably against his boxers. A walk through the apartment is much needed. Get away from the noise. Maybe eat another somewhat edible peasant mac and cheese.

This was a bad idea. He sees the soft glow underneath your bedroom door, and has a deep desire to sling it open and get on to you for being…

No. He can’t do that. You’re not ‘breaking’ any of his rules. You’re just mutually masturbating with your boyfriend, and you’re taking too long. Not that he would make sure to fuck you quickly. He just doesn’t want someone else taking their time with you.

What the fuck is he even talking about? He can’t fuck you. You were Lyla’s. He just paid you. He could pay you in other ways.

No!

You fucking asked him what your duties were. He’d love for your duties to be getting to your knees and letting him see how pretty your mouth looked with his cock in it. His tip nudging the back of your throat while tears fill your eyes, and your lungs cry for air.

What the actual fuck? Why was he like this? Why was this a struggle? And why is he going the opposite way of the kitchen? Landing directly in front of your door? Listening to your sounds live. Panting. Whimpering. Not saying The Verb’s name. He’d have you screaming his name. He would have you begging for him to let you come. Have you edged all day because you wanted to tease him with silly little questions about your duties.

He’d have tears falling down your cheeks as he smirks down at you. Letting you know what a pathetic and needy little slut you were. Fuck you so hard your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, and you’re completely dumb. So dumb that you’re just spouting out random words until he’s left his seed inside your belly.

Walking to your bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up before leaving you blissed out. Making you so needy that you beg for his attention. Start being a good girl so you get more time with is cock in — inside of you. Ready to crawl on your knees after Lyla was put to sleep, and telling him you’re his little sex doll. And he would make so much use of your body and holes. Fucking you every night. Special time just for you. Just so he can feel your tight…tight…tight walls milk him dry.

”Lloyd?” Your voice pants on the other side of the room. “Lloyd is that you?” Getting closer to the door. He tucks his cock back in his boxers. Not even realizing he had been rubbing one out to your sounds. Wiping his hands on the silk of his underwear when you sling the door open.

How did you become prettier? A sheen of sweat around your hairline, and yep…you’d been grinding on a fucking pillow. Your bed is a crumbled up mess and a pillow is right in the middle of the bed. “Is everything okay? Sorry, I was…I was telling Chase goodnight.”

The Verb. You had shorts on earlier. Now it’s this t-shirt that was barely covering your legs. Were you naked? Did you show him your pussy? Your chest continues to heave, and he hates The Verb. He despises him. He’s got to go. You can’t spend time with Lyla and him if The Verb was in the picture. “Lloyd, are you okay?”

“I’m hungry.”

”I’m confused,” what was his reason for being at your door, telling you that he was hungry.

”I like ramen. The gross kind. The kind that…”

”Like top ramen?” You ask him confused. Mouth still slightly open as you try to catch your breath and his eyebrow quirks up. Did you know he was listening to you and stroking himself?

“Yes. You made me your cheap noodles, would you like me to make you some of my cheap noodles?”

“It’s after midnight.”

“Fine, I’ll eat the noodles by myself,” spinning on his heels, he walks away from you into the kitchen. It isn’t long until he hears the soft pads of your feet following him. “I told you it was okay.”

“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. You were almost asleep as you were telling your…boyfriend goodnight. That’s exactly what almost asleep sounds like,” that list bit of his sentence sounds a bit implying. Did he know?

“Did you hear our conversation?” Was it even a conversation? He couldn’t remember. He just heard you telling him you were going to come. Not The Verb, but Lloyd. You are a tease. He didn’t mean to get off on your voice. “How long were you out here?”

“Grab me a pot?” Oh you were obedient, bending over to get a pot, and standing up quickly. Not quick enough. No panties. He pretends to see nothing. You can sleep with no panties. That’s a good habit to get into because he can just slide into your bed, and start fucking you. When you get there of course. Consent is key. And he feels like a bastard for what he did tonight. But that movement you just did was on your own.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” He asks with a devilish grin.

“Nothing,” it wasn’t just nothing. But he wasn’t going to make you feel guilty for the need to show him your cunt still glistening. He’d have your legs drenched. “Do you do anything special with your ramen? Or do you make it as is?”

“There’s some eggs and spring onions in the fridge. Does that answer your question?” He nods his head towards the fridge, trying to figure out what else he could make you do to get a little peek. He’d play oblivious. Let you decide what you are comfortable with. “Mind getting me some bowls from the top shelf?”

Standing on your tippy toes you dance around a moment. The bottom of your ass cheeks make a little appearance, and he steps behind you to reach the bowls himself. Taking too long to cage your body with your own. And when you gasp, pressing your ass into his crotch he bounces back immediately. Dropping the bowls into the floor and they shatter into thousands of pieces.

“Shit,” Lloyd whispers under his breath. And without asking, places his hands on your sides to lift you up onto the counter. “Stay there while I clean this up. I don’t need you stepping on glass.”

He doesn’t notice the odd glances that you give him as he picks up the larger pieces and starts sweeping up the rest. “My mom always uses wet a paper towel to get the tiny pieces up.”

“That’s smart,” he follows your instructions. And stands up straight. You have already gotten more comfortable, and your legs are not so tightly pressed together. He has to bite his tongue in order to not look. But as high up as that shirt is sitting on your thighs, he knows. And you are aware that he knows.

“Not that Lyla can even crawl right now, but the idea of there being these tiny pieces of glass for you to step on when holding her,” his words stop, and he stands in front of you. How did you not realize he was shirtless? Why is his chest so close to your face as he reaches above your head for more bowls? Why does he smell like a wet dream? Push the thoughts away.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself and dropping her in an accident.”

“I won’t drop her.”

“Knock on the cabinets immediately! That is bad luck,” you do as he says, not pegging him as a superstitious man at all. “I had some chance to think about it. I think on Sundays you should have the day off completely unless I’m out of town. Saturdays, is it fair to ask for you to work half a day? Just until around noon?”

“I think that’s fair.”

“And maybe we should not talk about The Verb?”

“The Verb?” What was he even talking about? You notice his eyes flick momentarily to your lap, and you realize how comfortable you had gotten on this counter. Your legs are too far apart. He had to have seen something. Was he disappointed? You didn’t want to disappoint him. You had just started to get to know him. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could care for a baby.

“That Chase boy.”

“My boyfriend?” You giggle. Why did he have such an issue with Chase?

“Why is he even your boyfriend?”

“He’s better than a dildo. I mean,” you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and have to look at the floor. Missing how big Lloyd’s smile spreads across his smug face. Or the way he is stalking towards you like he’s ready to pounce on his prey. “We’ve been together for awhile, but it’s not that serious.”

“Sweetheart, don’t settle for better than a dildo,” he stands right in front of you. Both hands on your knees as he goes to push your legs apart. Inserting himself in between your thighs. The weird feeling in your tummy returns, and you hate having no panties on as slick floods to your core. Throat dry as his finger touches your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “And when I’m speaking to you, I expect you to look me in the eyes, do you understand?”

You nod your head slowly, but he clicks his tongue, “And I expect you to verbally answer in my home. Little head gestures are easily misinterpreted, okay?”

“Okay,” he raises an eyebrow, wanting you to finish your sentence, but words are impossible, and your brain is mush. Everything is delayed as you feel the heat between you and Lloyd, “I understand.”

“If you need something better than a dildo and more than The Verb just use your words,” what the fuck does that even mean? He steps away from you much quicker than he inserted himself. The air in the room is heavy and stifling, and you wonder if you even knew how to breathe without reminding yourself to inhale and exhale.

“Do you like creamy ramen or brothy?” This bastard is really changing the subject. You can’t even think with the two heartbeats you feel. One inside your chest, while the other is between your thighs and throbbing. Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body betraying you?

“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”

“You want to get me the heavy whipping cream?” He gives you a cheeky smile when you jump off the counter and head towards the fridge.

“Why are you asking me to do all these things?”

“Because you listen so well,” you pause before reaching for the heavy whipping cream, and turn to look at him.

“What is this?” He’s playing a sick game. He had to be. He saw this ‘vulnerable little girl’ that he had to save. You didn’t need saving, you were fine all on your own.

“You’re very well behaved. Your mother did a good job. Until just now you didn’t even question it. Just did as I asked,” what is he getting at? He is talking in riddles, or backwards, or you are just reading too much into whatever this exchange is. Keeping your mouth closed for the rest of the evening.

Keeping your eyes off him as you squirm around uncomfortably in your seat. Is this uncomfortable because of him? Or are you weirded out because you are feeling things because of him. If you look up, you’d see him smiling as he watches the weird inner turmoil going on in your head.

Finishing before you, he stands up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Walking past you towards his bedroom, he stops. “And Dolly?”

“Yes?” You ask, turning around in your chair.

“When you leave your room make sure you have on panties,” oh. My. God. He knew. He saw. He didn’t say anything until now. “Because next time I won’t force myself to stop my need to lean you over the counter and spank your ass.”

“Okay,” you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you couldn’t believe how your body was internalizing his words. Heat. Fire. Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. How you have immediate visions of Lloyd doing just that, and spreading your cheeks to see if he made you wet. He did. Uncomfortably so.

“Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he needs a cold shower. He needs away from you because his cock has been at full mast since you questioned why he was asking you to gather things for him. You could try to deny it, but he turned you on as much as you turned him on.

And yet here is your employer, and you are just the sweet au pair with daddy issues. No matter what you say. And he supposes he’s the sick bastard that didn’t mind teasing you. Giving you something to think about. Options? Something for the spank bank? He hopes you go to bed wet and frustrated. Wake up to needing to fuck your own fingers as you think about the close proximity he had to you.

He hopes that you are dripping with need for his cock, and his care and protection. And he hopes that a cold shower is enough to get visions of you yipping with every smack to your ass. That you would be the perfect and obedient girl for him. Woman. Girl sounded gross in this context. Thank you, Roman for making sure your daughter had daddy issues. But fuck him for not loving his daughter the way you deserved.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @floral-recs @pandaxnienke @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @buckybarnesisdaddy @patzammit @xoxo-ls @rebeccapineapple @slutforchrisjamalevans @marvel-wifey-86 @jesevans @ughdontbeboring @infantasywonderland @vampy-doll @i-like-to-read-13 @missacidburn928 @charmedasylum @honeyhoneylovelylove @superflannel @hisredheadedgoddess28 @ughdontbeboring @lostinspace33 @abbyyourlocalmilf @saranghaey

#with your touch #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen fics #lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen fanfic #daddy issues #au pair au #lloyd hansen x au pair!reader

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qqueenofhades · 1 year

Note

would you ever write a modern/no-powers au for dreamling/sandman?

"Look, Mee," Hob says, for the fourth or fifth time that conversation. "I'm sure your brother is, uh, great, but I'm not sure -- "

"Come on," his best friend says, also for the fourth or fifth time that conversation. "Honestly, you'd be doing me a massive favor. I can barely get him out of the house most days, so I figured that at least the two of you could faff off and be really pathetic together?"

"Thanks." Hob switches the phone to his other ear and glares suspiciously out at the garden; when you've got two small children and it's quiet, you figure something's gone terribly amiss. Robyn and Alison haven't burnt the place down or gotten run over in traffic, but they're playing with something small, muddy and possibly still alive, and Hob debates whether he has to sprint out and save them from certain death. "You're a great friend, truly."

"I know," Morticia says airily. That does, bewilderingly, seem to be her actual name (were her parents massive Addams Family fans or something?) but with Hob and the rest of her friends, she generally goes by Mors, or Mee for short. He looked it up once. Ancient Roman god(dess) of death, which made him laugh, at least when it didn't kick him in the teeth. "You can thank me later."

"And I want to spend time with your brother... why?"

"Because." Oh God, here it comes. He can hear her trying not to say it, the same way everyone's tried not to say it in the going-on-eighteen months since his wife went into an ordinary central-London NHS hospital to give birth to their second child and didn't come back out. "You know it would be good for you, Robbie."

"Right." Hob's voice turns wry. "Can't have me wallowing alone in my misery? You know I've got the kids to look after, and they're talking about extending my contract at Birkbeck. I'm keeping busy."

Keeping busy. It always sounds stupid, even if it's the truth. Like you can chase overwhelming, soul-crushing grief away just by getting out of bed and making breakfast for the kids, holding Robyn's hand as you trundle off on the school run and tell him to have a good day, the thousand and one ways you think you're massively arsing this up and Ellie would have been so much better. Every time the doorbell rings or someone comes up the walk, he thinks -- for a stupid moment he thinks -- and then of course it isn't. You think about women dying in childbirth like it's something out of medieval times, or some third-world country. Not in England in the twenty-first century. Not in London. Not as if your daughter is beautiful and bright and alive, and every time you look at her, you remember that her mother isn't, and the happiness you feel is poisoned by grief again, cold and blue and endless as the ocean. You laugh with the kids at some Disney cartoon one moment, and the next, you're crying alone in the kitchen, in bed, in the silent darkness. And no matter how much you ask, she doesn't answer. You think she does, sometimes. You're just fooling yourself.

You know, Hob thinks. Maybe it would be good for him. At least it would let him spend time with (if Mee's account is anything to go by) the one man in all of London more pathetic than him. It doesn't have to be anything more than that. Even if she is trying to set him up, she wouldn't admit it. She isn't, surely? Trying to match her brother off with her best friend, widowed-single-dad-part-time-lecturer who's clinging onto sanity by the bare edge of his fingernails? Right? Fuck. Should never have told her that he's bi. Doubled her meddling possibilities at a stroke. And yet. He's so lonely, he almost doesn't care.

"Fine," Hob says resignedly. "I'll see if I can get a sitter for the kids. And it better not be that grotty brewery in Shepherd's Bush you dragged me to last time."

"No." Mee sounds like she's laughing at him. She probably is laughing at him, or else she thinks he's become such a pathologically undatable freak that his only chance for happiness ever again is with her equally pathetic little brother. "Nice new Asian-fusion place. Hammersmith. Fifteen minutes from you on the Tube. Don't chicken out, Robert."

And with that, well --

There's pretty much no choice.

Hob finds a sitter for the kids, promises to pay her twenty quid an hour (it's London, after all), and grumblingly picks out some clothes. He's not good at this. It's been almost ten years since he was dating anyone, and Eleanor was from a rich enough family that there was no chance of ever impressing her parents; he could have turned up in anything from Savile Row to a bloody dishcloth and they still would have hated him. Then he finds himself fucking around to the point where he's going to be late, the Tube will be a nightmare anyway, and panics again and rushes out the door with barely a word about what to feed the kids and when to put them to bed. Is nice Olivia from down the street judging him? She almost surely is.

Hob grimly toddles off to Hammersmith, exits into a light rain, and spends an inordinate amount of time searching for the restaurant. When he finally steps inside, he's not quite sure who he's looking for. Mee texted him a picture of her brother, but Hob has trouble believing that such a pale, pasty, and terminally uncharismatic twink could ever be related to her. One of them has to be adopted, and he's laying money on this one, whose name is -- no, seriously -- Morpheus. Morticia and Morpheus. What is wrong with their parents? Determined to doom their children to an eternity of primary-school torment?

Hob contemplates turning around and leaving, but now he's come this far, Olivia will definitely judge him if he returns within the hour, and frankly, he's judging himself. Even worse, he's fairly sure he's just spotted his man. Morpheus (come on, really?) is sitting by himself at a corner table, looking appropriately dark and broody, in his emo-goth dark coat and toilet-brush hair. Just like the photo. He's admittedly not bad-looking in person; he's got a pale, chiseled beauty that is briefly arresting, almost unearthly. Still, though. Definitely a wanker.

"Hello," Hob says, deciding to bite the bullet. He strides over, hand outstretched. "I'm Robert Gadling, and I think you're the bloke I'm supposed to be meeting? I know your sister."

Morpheus's mouth makes a small lemon-sucking motion. He rises to his feet, regards Hob's hand as if not certain what to do with it and/or wondering if he can get away with not touching it, and finally shakes it, brief and cold and dry. "I am," he says curtly. "You may sit."

Well, good. Glad they got His Majesty's permission. No unauthorized sitting happening here, no sir. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Hob puts his bag on the floor and slides into the chair across from Morpheus. Like every Londoner at a loss for a better opening line, he reaches for the weather. "Shame about this piss, isn't it? And it was all the way up to twenty degrees last week. Did you have to come far?"

"No," Morpheus says, still not displaying any particular delight in being forced to spend this evening in the presence of another human being and looking as if he is very much hoping the floor will suddenly open up and swallow him. "Not far."

Hob waits, in vain, on the chance that Morpheus might elaborate. He does not. Well. This is going swimmingly. Are they on a date? Did Mee tell him that they were on a date? Is Hob sure this isn't an extremely elaborate prank, and she just plucked one of her single friends from the vast and bewildering mystery of her acquaintances? Truly, it is no wonder that Morpheus is, in fact, unattached. He's got the personality of a soggy rag and the face of -- well, not that. He is pretty. But Hob is not that shallow. Thanks very much.

Conversation suffers badly until they order drinks and food; or rather Hob orders, and Morpheus says that he'll take just a glass of wine. He does loosen up slightly as they talk; Hob does most of that, but Morpheus listens with cool, intent attention. From time to time he asks a question, but he doesn't interrupt, and finally Hob, trying to make it as light-hearted as "my wife died eighteen months ago and this is the first not-date I've been on ever since" can possibly be, admits it. He braces for Morpheus to get up, to run, to fire off an indignant text to Morticia or anything else, but he doesn't. He just nods once. "I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I know that it is... difficult."

All of a sudden, Hob is forced to consider the startling and unsettling possibility that Morpheus himself knows something about this. He can't say why or how that might be, but life is full of mysteries. "I -- yeah." It's an abject relief to say it and to have someone acknowledge it simply and matter-of-factly, not smother him with sympathy or cluck about how hard it is. "So if I'm off my game, that, uh. That's why."

Morpheus thinks about that for a long moment. Then all at once, out of nowhere, he smiles. It completely transforms his face, it twists like a fishhook in Hob's gut, and all of a sudden, he wonders in alarm if he is, in fact, entirely that shallow after all. "Believe me, Hob Gadling," Morpheus says. "It has very much been my pleasure."

#anonymous #ask #fic prompts #dreamling #dreamling ff

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iridescent-petrichor · 11 months

Text

my brain holds too many poisons

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Warnings: drinking, jj gets drunk and stupid twice, reader's boyfriend sucks

Words: 10K (holy shit)

A/N: Officially my longest fic !! i'm really happy with this one, I've had this song stuck in my head for weeks crafting this fic!! shoutout to two of my closest friends for giving me a bunch of ideas for this :D

(this is a songfic by the way!)

I called you with a few too many drinks in me

Saying JJ was drunk would be an understatement. It was nearing the end of a kegger thrown down at the Boneyard, and he was definitely more than a few drinks deep at this point. The entire night, he’d kept an eye out, looking over the crowd and scanning it every so often just to make sure he didn’t miss you.

You, however, skipped out on the party tonight. Instead, you were spending the night with your new boyfriend, Roman, who JJ openly despised. He was another snobby rich kid from Figure Eight that wasn’t good enough for someone like you.

JJ knew it wasn’t his place to judge who you were dating when he couldn’t even man up enough to ask you out, but he couldn’t help but remind you as often as he could that Roman didn’t deserve you. You brushed him off every time, always coming up with some excuse for him that JJ didn’t believe.

The thought of you skipping out on him to stay with your boyfriend made JJ feel sick, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling his phone out, calling you before he could think better of it.

Well, at least you didn't answer

When you didn’t answer, his heart sank to the floor. He didn’t like the thought of you being alone with him. As much as you constantly assured him that he was a good guy, that he cared about you, JJ knew guys like him all too well.

Your voicemail rang through his ears, and he couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips at the sound of your voice. It distracted him long enough that there was suddenly a loud beep, flustering him as his voicemail began.

“Oh shit,” He blinked, not prepared to actually leave you a message. “Uh, hey sweetheart. Shit- I didn’t mean to call you that-”

John B, who had been staying relatively sober the whole night so he could drive everyone to his house once the party died down, noticed JJ off to the side, muttering something on the phone. It must’ve been some sixth sense John B had for knowing whenever JJ was doing something stupid, but he instantly excused himself from his conversation and started making his way toward his best friend.

“I just- I really think you’re better than that asshole. I know you hate when I say that shit, but he really doesn’t deserve you. You’re bright, and- and you can cheer anyone up just by being around them. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen and I just need you to know that. I need you to know that you deserve better than him. I would treat you better than he does. I know I would. I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”

At this point, John B reached JJ, pulling the phone away from his ear and quickly hanging up, shoving the phone in his shorts pocket before JJ could do any more damage.

“What are you doing?” John B asked now that JJ’s attention was on him.

“Was just callin’ Y/N.” He answered, a slight slur in his speech that made John B understand how bad of an idea that was.

John B sighed, putting an arm around JJ, and quickly guiding him in the direction of the Twinkie. “Let’s get you home, big guy.”

Woke up, prayed to God it was only a dream

JJ woke up, immediately feeling the pain of the killer hangover he had. Forcing himself to sit up in the bed he didn’t remember stumbling into the night before, he looked around the room. It didn’t take long to realize he was in the guest room at the Chateau, the room that had become unofficially his after so many years of friendship with John B.

His head was still pounding as he tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Instinctively, he reached for where his phone would be on the nightstand, confused to find it wasn’t there.

That’s when the memories started to come back to him.

He was drunk. He was wasted. He tried calling you. You didn’t answer. He said he loved you. He said he loved you.

“Oh, fuck.” He dropped his throbbing head into his hands, rubbing his temples. “Oh, I’m so fucked.”

You were in the shower when JJ called you the night before, and your boyfriend was the one to notice your phone buzzing where you’d left it on the bed. He didn’t answer, of course he didn’t, not when JJ was the one calling, he instead watched it ring. It wasn’t until he noticed JJ left a voicemail that his interest was piqued.

Glancing in the direction of the bathroom, he could still hear the shower running. Quickly, he reached to grab your phone, typing in the passcode.

You told him your passcode offhandedly one day when you asked him to respond to a text from Kiara while you were driving, and he remembered it ever since. He told himself it was just in case, and as he listened to JJ’s voicemail, he convinced himself he was doing this out of love.

His fists clenched when he heard JJ’s confession. It was obvious he was drunk, but Roman knew hearing this would ruin everything. It would destroy the relationship he worked so hard to build.

By the time he finished the voicemail, he heard you turn the shower off, hurriedly deleting the voicemail before tossing your phone back on the bed.

Well, at least I took my chances

JJ trudged out of the bedroom, seeing John B cooking breakfast, along with Kiara and Pope still fast asleep on either side of the pullout couch.

“Morning, sunshine.” John B chuckled, giving JJ a look. “How’s the headache?”

“Fuck off.” JJ groaned, peering at what John B was cooking. He reached forward, plucking a strip of freshly cooked bacon off the plate they’d been set on, dodging John B swatting at him with the spatula.

“Your phone’s on the table.” John B said, pointing halfheartedly to the kitchen table.

JJ groaned again, not wanting to be reminded of the consequences of him calling you.

“Hey, at least you finally took your chances.” John B couldn’t help but laugh, earning a light smack on the arm from JJ.

“Shut up, dude.”

When JJ picked up his phone, he swore his heart stopped when he saw a text from you.

When you got out of the shower, you threw some pajamas on and walked back into the bedroom, your boyfriend was giving you an unreadable look.

“What?” You asked, trying to smile at him, your grin faltering when he didn’t react.

“JJ called you.” His tone was flat, and you tilted your head in confusion.

“Okay…? Is he alright? Did he need a ride home, or…?” Your mind wandered to JJ at the party. He was no doubt drunk out of his mind, and you were worried he’d gone and gotten himself hurt. Surely someone would’ve had his back, you knew the rest of the pogues were at the party as well.

Roman sighed heavily in a way that made you tense. “I think you should keep your distance from him.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? What the fuck are you talking about?”

When he stood up, you immediately shut your mouth despite the firm look you were still giving him.

“He’s my friend, Roman.” You insisted, though your voice was much quieter now.

“He wants to jeopardize our relationship.” His voice was low, and the way he stepped closer to you almost felt threatening.

“He- what?” JJ would never do that. You knew he didn’t approve of your boyfriend, he made that very clear, but would he actually try to jeopardize your relationship?

“Just- here.” He grabbed your phone off the bed, shoving it in your hand. You took it hesitantly, still giving him a confused look. “Just text him. Tell him you’re not gonna speak to him again.”

“What?!” You looked up at him, mouth agape in shock. He couldn’t be serious, right?

When his face darkened, you gripped your phone just a bit tighter. “He wants to ruin our relationship. You’re gonna have to make a choice here.”

Part of you wanted to keep arguing, to say that you could talk to JJ, that you would sort it out. But something in the look in Roman’s eyes made you nod, backing down.

“Okay. I’ll text him.”

You said you never wanted to speak again

“She text you?” John B asked, not looking up from the eggs he was cooking.

JJ didn’t respond, still staring down at the text.

Please don’t speak to me anymore.

“JJ?” John B glanced up at him before scraping the eggs onto a plate, walking over to see the phone.

JJ moved so John B could see it, still saying nothing. The silence hung in the air for a while before John B spoke again.

“Holy shit.”

JJ sighed, tossing his phone back onto the table with a loud enough clatter that it startled Kiara and Pope from their sleep, looking between him and John B with furrowed brows. Kiara opened her mouth to tell him off for waking her up before noticing the tension in the room.

“Dude, it’s probably not that bad.” John B tried to say, but JJ grimaced.

“Not that bad? I fucked everything up!” He resisted the urge to hit something, pacing back and forth in the room clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Can someone please explain what the hell is going on?” Kiara spoke up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“JJ drunk dialed Y/N last night and told her he’s in love with her.”

“Dude!” JJ snapped, glaring at John B. He shrugged back lamely, mouthing an apology.

“Is that not what happened?” John B asked under his breath, grabbing a couple plates of food and handing them off to Kiara and Pope.

“She’s got a boyfriend, man,” Pope said through a bite of food.

JJ rubbed a hand over his eyes, sighing heavily. “Yeah, Pope. Thanks. I’m well aware of that.”

Kiara stretched forward, grabbing JJ’s phone off the table to see the text. Pope leaned close to her, peering over her shoulder to read it as well.

“Oh.” She cringed, setting the phone back on the table with a pitying look. “Yeah, that’s… not great.”

“Thanks, Kie,” JJ said dryly, shooting her a halfhearted glare. “Real helpful.

“Maybe you can reason with her?” She said, taking a bite of food. “I mean, this’ll all blow over in like a week, I’m sure.”

I was never one to listen

The next morning, you’d barely finished getting ready for the day when you felt your phone buzzing on the table you set it down on. Roman looked up from his spot on your bed, eyeing you before turning his gaze to your phone.

“I can answer that.” He said, standing.

You almost mindlessly agreed until you saw the contact name.

JJ Maybank.

“Wait- Uh, I’ll get it.” You caught the look Roman gave you as you grabbed your phone, shrinking in on yourself. “I’ll just- I’ll tell him to leave me alone.”

The words felt bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up to Roman. It wasn’t that your boyfriend was a bad person, he was just… protective. And he seemed to know something you didn’t about JJ wanting to ruin your relationship, so maybe you should just believe him.

With a sigh, unsure of if you actually believed him or if you were just trying to convince yourself of the fact, you answered the call and brought your phone to your ear.

“JJ-”

“Hey! Holy shit, I didn’t think you’d answer! Uh, listen-” JJ started talking quickly, trying to explain, but the longer you stayed silent, the more you could feel the tension coming from your boyfriend.

“Please don’t call me, JJ.” Despite how weak you felt your voice was, it instantly made JJ fall silent.

You hung up without another word, exhaling shakily, trying with all your might to ignore the reality of what you’d done. Even a month ago if you were told to not speak to JJ, you would’ve laughed in their face. Things felt so different now, and it made you feel sick.

“Thank you.” Roman smiled at you, but the grin on his face resembled that of a shark.

You felt your phone buzzing, still in your hand. JJ was calling you again. Quickly, you shut it off, shoving it in your back pocket, forcing yourself to return Roman’s smile.

And it's fine, just wish you'd get out of my head

JJ had never gone this long without seeing you, not since the two of you became friends. It had been a little over two weeks since you last spoke to him, and he felt like he was going insane. You hadn’t hung out with the pogues since before that fateful night. They never stopped reaching out, though, telling you every plan they made just in case you decided to show.

Your response was always the same: Sorry! I’m hanging with Roman tonight. Another time!

JJ tried to play it off like he was fine, like he didn’t care. Still, every time Kiara would text you to ask if you could make it only to get a measly text apologizing for missing out, everyone could see the way JJ’s face fell. Whenever they met up, he counted the heads, heart sinking just a little when he saw you weren’t there. Everyone saw the way his grin faltered when your name was mentioned, or the way his attention snapped to anyone that looked a little too much like you, sounded a little too much like you, or laughed a little too much like you.

Every time JJ found himself surrounded by his best friends, he couldn’t help but notice the empty seat that was always left open – a silent agreement to keep it available just in case. It stayed empty every time, though, and JJ was never able to take his eyes off it.

Well, you never did

It was another party. Being deep in the throes of Summer, there were new parties nearly every night, and the pogues joined more than half the time. Tonight was unlike any other, and everyone was piling into the Twinkie for a kegger.

JJ pulled his flask out of his shorts pocket, taking a quick swig as John B parked outside the beach, the rest of the pogues clambering out of the van the second the car stopped moving. John B tossed the keys to Pope, who had agreed to be the designated driver for the night. The pogues often took turns, with the exception of JJ, who recently had gotten into a habit of getting as drunk as possible to drown out any thoughts of you any chance he could get.

It wasn’t long before the group had a few drinks, with JJ being much further gone than anyone else. The pogues were keeping a worried eye on him, exchanging looks with each other every time he went to grab another drink.

JJ was leaning against a tree now, only half listening to the conversation between John B and Pope when he noticed you a good distance away. Your boyfriend was a few feet away from you, and JJ couldn’t help but notice the fact that you clearly weren’t getting the attention you deserved.

JJ could feel his heart beat just a little faster at the sight of you, sat on a log and watching your boyfriend talk to his friends. Roman wasn’t even looking at you, and JJ could see the way your face fell at the lack of attention. He knows you’re so much better than that asshole, but he also knows he can’t be the one to tell you that.

Not anymore.

Still, JJ isn’t able to take his eyes off of you, and as he downed another drink, he barely acknowledged whatever question Pope was asking him.

My brain holds too many poisons

JJ nearly winced at the sight of you. He knew he could treat you better. He knew you deserved to be treated like royalty, and all Roman saw you as was arm candy.

“JJ?” He turned at the sound of Pope’s voice, not bothering to mask the annoyance on his face. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” JJ waved him off, looking back to you and the way you were sitting on the edge of your seat to watch Roman chat with his friends. You were trying so hard to seem like you were enjoying yourself, but JJ had always known you better. He can see every movement of yours, awkwardly fiddling with your hands in your lap, glancing around the crowd every so often, and the forced smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. It was always the little things that JJ noticed about you, that your boyfriend would never bother to care about.

Suddenly, JJ stands, ignoring the looks from John B and Pope. Kiara had disappeared from the group a while ago, mingling with some people she’d met a few times before.

“I’m getting another drink.”

He pushed through the crowd, weaving past drunk teenagers until he got to the keg of beer, refilling his solo cup.

“How many drinks does this make?” Kiara’s voice made him spin around, facing her with a forced smile.

“Lost track.” He raised the cup, tapping it against her own. “Cheers.”

She gives him a firm look, one of her hands on her waist. “I think you’ve had enough.”

JJ shook his head, walking beside her in the direction of where Pope and John B were still standing. “Not yet.”

Kiara exchanged worried looks with the boys when they finally approached before making herself comfortable, taking a seat next to John B.

Loud laughter and cheering from afar pulled JJ’s attention away from his friends, glancing over and seeing your boyfriend in the middle of a game of beer pong with his kook friends. JJ rolled his eyes, the story Kiara started telling going entirely unnoticed while he stared down your boyfriend, taking another swig from his solo cup.

They helped me make the wrong choices

“Hey,” Pope reached a hand out, tapping JJ on the arm a few times to get him to look away from Roman. “Are you even paying attention?”

JJ leans away from Pope, lazily hitting his hand away. He looked at Pope for only a moment, making a face at him before turning his focus back to you.

You were sat with your hands still in your lap, wearing an outfit that JJ knew you well enough to know you were uncomfortable in. Your boyfriend wasn’t far off, still hard at work in his game of beer pong.

John B took note of his friend’s distraction now, following JJ’s gaze and sighing to himself when he saw you. “JJ, don’t do anything you’re gonna regret.”

JJ didn’t respond. He was still focused on the way you were looking at Roman. You had reached up at this point, fiddling with the necklace you were wearing absentmindedly. The same necklace JJ bought you for your birthday almost two years ago. It tugged at his heartstrings to know that you were still wearing it, but he wasn’t surprised. You’d worn it every day since JJ bought it for you, of course you still had it on.

When you stood up, JJ tensed, watching you step toward Roman. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, trying to whisper something to him. Without even looking in your direction, Roman nudged you away from him, muttering something JJ couldn’t hear that made you frown.

The dejected look on your face was enough to have JJ downing the rest of his drink, handing the empty cup off to John B, ignoring the pogues calling after him.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

Before JJ could think better of what he was doing, he was storming across the beach, sand kicking up under his feet. There was something in the way your gaze softened looking at Roman despite how much he was ignoring you that made his chest feel tight. You didn’t deserve that. You may not want to talk to him, but he needed you to know you deserved better.

“Hey!” JJ’s voice made Roman’s head snap up to him, along with each of his friends. You looked up as well, eyes wide when you saw how quickly JJ was approaching.

You were the only one who wasn’t staring JJ down like he was their next target.

Roman gave JJ a lazy smile that looked more like a grimace. “JJ Maybank. What can I do for you?”

JJ stopped right in front of him, the alcohol in his system mixing with the rage he felt boiling over. “You too good to pay attention to your girlfriend all of a sudden?”

Roman blinked, his eyes darkening as he glanced at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher before he looked back to JJ. He stepped closer, trying to intimidate JJ with the few inches he had above him, despite not having the strength that JJ had.

“What did you say?”

The beer pong game had now been officially paused, and every kook in the area was watching JJ’s every move. Everyone was on edge, waiting for the pogue to do something worthy of jumping him.

As if they ever needed a reason.

“You heard me.” JJ sneered, his jaw clenching. “Too good to pay attention to your girlfriend?”

But I make them more than most

When Roman grabbed the front of JJ’s shirt, he swore he heard you gasp. He pulled JJ close to him, breathing heavily.

“Walk away, Maybank.” He said through gritted teeth, glaring down at JJ. The crowd around them was growing by the second, and it was almost entirely kooks. There was hardly anyone around that would jump to his defense. He started to wonder if you would jump to his defense, or your boyfriend’s.

JJ glanced toward you, realizing with a start that for the first time in weeks, your full attention was on him, and it only encouraged him further.

Turning back to Roman, he couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face. “Or what?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you stand up, nervously hovering near the interaction in case anything happened. It made JJ wonder again who you were more worried about.

If he got hurt would you go to him? Or would you let Roman drag you away from him again?

“Or we’ll escort you out of here.” A kook that had been playing beer pong piped up, earning a glare from JJ.

“Did I ask you?” JJ took a few steps in his direction, momentarily forgetting the grasp Roman had on his shirt until he stopped him.

“I think you should go back to your own turf,” Roman said, leaning down to talk right in JJ’s ear, quiet enough that only he could hear him. “Pogue.”

And it's my fault that I live my life

The sound of JJ’s fist colliding with Roman’s jaw instantly incited chaos within the crowd. Kooks were on JJ within a second, but all of his focus was stuck on Roman. The punch sent him stumbling to the ground, but he was quick to rally, jumping back up and throwing a punch that almost knocked JJ off balance.

“JJ!” Your voice was muffled by the ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t shake the knowledge that you were worried about him.

You cared. You care.

JJ rolled his head back, planting his feet and glaring at Roman, who was cocky enough that he let the other kooks let him go, calling for a fair fight.

He knew most of these kooks worked out like it was their only hobby – in all honesty, it probably was, but he also knew better than anyone that strength is useless if you don’t know how to fight.

And JJ knows how to fight.

He took a deep breath, his fists clenching and unclenching for a moment before he lunged forward, ducking to avoid another hit from Roman, tackling him into the sand.

Running away from ghosts

Once he had Roman on the ground, JJ hovered above him, hitting him again.

The kooks surrounding them were screaming now, and a few of them tried to pull him up off of Roman. He shook them off, raising his fist again.

“Just like your old man, aren’t you?” Roman’s voice was weak, but it made JJ freeze.

While the crowd continued to yell and scream and cheer, JJ couldn’t hear a damn thing other than his own heartbeat, the only thing repeating in his head – just like your old man, aren’t you?

JJ saw red, bringing his fist down again and again, deaf to the crowd around him.

He didn’t see the kooks staring at him in fear, didn’t see the few pogues in the crowd whispering, didn’t see you standing at the front of the crowd, jaw agape as you watched this happen.

Word was spreading quickly through the party, whispers of the pogue beating the shit out of a kook rippling throughout the Boneyard and eventually, everyone at the party was aware of what was happening.

By the time Kiara, Pope, and John B got wind of what the crowd was surrounding, there were so many people they could barely get through to get to JJ.

Too many skeletons

Roman managed to shove JJ off, causing him to fall backwards into the sand. He caught your eye for just a moment, distracting him long enough that Roman was able to land a solid punch.

The look in your eyes made JJ’s stomach churn nauseatingly, and he swore seeing you that terrified was more painful than the punch itself. He couldn’t decipher who you were actually worried about, but when he saw Roman reeling back to hit him again, he knew he didn’t have the time to worry about it.

Rolling to the side, he barely managed to dodge Roman’s fist. When he missed, it made Roman tumble forward, giving JJ the opportunity to clamber to his feet.

The kooks steered clear of JJ this time, no one daring to interfere now. Still, he could hear the kooks egging Roman on when JJ wiped the fresh blood dripping from the cut on his lip.

Despite himself, he looked at you once more.

The fear in your eyes made him tense, but you still didn’t look away from him. It made him realize that ever since the fight began, you’d only been looking at him.

Too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been

He looked at you long enough to see your head shake just slightly, but before he could respond, Roman was knocking him to the ground. He felt another hit to the face, dizzying him for a moment before he shoved Roman to the side, hard enough that JJ was able to climb up and land another punch to the face.

He hit him hard, noticing a few spots of blood staining the sand around them.

The pain stinging his face and knuckles was getting harder to ignore, but he wasn’t one to back away from a fight. Especially from a kook who deserved to get a few teeth knocked in.

“Roman, don’t-” Your voice rang out, just before he noticed Roman’s hand closing around an empty beer bottle.

He brought it over JJ’s head, and JJ just barely reacted in time, throwing his hands up to block it, wincing when it shattered over his arms.

“JJ!” He heard you shriek. He almost felt proud in a sickening way, that it was his name you called out, that it was him you were worried about, that it was him you wanted to be okay.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

JJ dropped his hands from in front of his face, vaguely aware of the cuts along his arms from the shards of glass. He wanted to look at you, wanted to see how you were feeling.

More than anything, he wanted to hold you.

But still, Roman was glaring up at him, and JJ had to lurch back to avoid getting hit across the face. Quickly, JJ brought a hand back, ready to hit him again.

Before he could, though, two arms wrapped around him and dragged him up to his feet. He struggled instinctively, before realizing it was only John B. His brows were furrowed, and he was going off on him, lecturing him about something he couldn’t process with his heartbeat still loud in his ears and adrenaline still flowing in his veins.

He dragged JJ away from the scene, shoving past kooks that were sneering at the two of them, and continuing to scold him.

You're the one that I miss the most

He looked back only one time while John B was dragging him off to the Twinkie, his breath catching in his throat when he saw you. You were gently lifting Roman to his feet, running a hand over a cut on his cheek like you’d done so often to JJ.

It made his chest burn to know you weren’t his.

John B sat JJ in the passenger seat of the Twinkie, and only then did JJ see Kiara and Pope also trailing behind them, now climbing into the van after him.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get you out of his head. The image of you staring at him in horror was burned into his mind. Over and over, he could hear you calling his name, the way your voice cracked when you were terrified for him.

Worst of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of how quickly you went to Roman the second the fight was over.

Pope gave him a concerned look every minute or so while he drove to the Chateau. Everyone knew how uncharacteristic it was for JJ to be so quiet, but no one wanted to bring up what had just happened.

He was spiraling, and everyone knew it. Even him.

JJ pulled his phone out, sending you a text before he could stop himself.

I saw that a text I sent was left on read

Once they got to the Chateau, John B followed JJ into the guest room, dipping quickly into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit on the way there.

“You’re an idiot.” John B’s tone was harsh, and he set the first aid kit on the nightstand, disappearing for less than a minute to wet a cloth and appearing back in the room to start cleaning up his wounds.

“I know.” JJ’s voice was hoarse, and he was so resigned that John B almost faltered. He thought JJ would still be defensive, and it would lead to an argument.

There was nothing left from JJ, though. He was like a walking corpse, just running on autopilot with the knowledge that you were gone for good.

JJ pulled his phone back out, looking at the text he sent you from the car.

I’m sorry.

You read it a little over ten minutes ago.

He couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he’d gone to you after a fight. You would always chastise him for getting hurt or getting in a fight in the first place, but you were always impossibly gentle.

Gentle in a way John B wasn’t. In a way he couldn’t be. Because no matter how carefully John B tried to help him, he still wasn’t you.

“Ow, dude!” JJ swatted John B’s hand away from his face when he dragged over a cut a little too harshly, grabbing the wet cloth from him. “Jesus, I’ll do it myself.”

Well, I guess I get the message

John B sighed, dropping his head in disappointment before looking back up at him, a stern look on his face.

“Fine. I’ll leave you be. But jesus, JJ, you have to get your shit together.”

JJ nodded, watching John B leave without another word, closing the door to the bedroom a little harder than usual.

Taking a deep breath, JJ stared back down at his phone.

Then he threw it across the room.

It landed on the carpet, rolling a few times before finally stopping. Luckily, it was unharmed, but that still didn’t quell JJ’s anger.

He stood from his spot on the bed, running a hand through his hair, cursing to himself.

“What the fuck, JJ? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He muttered, pacing from one end of the room to the other.

How could he be so stupid? Why did he have to call you that night? Why did he have to ruin everything?

JJ finally dropped back into the bed, fighting back the harsh tears stinging in his eyes. His energy was entirely sapped, and the damp cloth John B was using to clean up his wounds had gone long forgotten on the nightstand beside the still unopened first aid kit.

I lied when I said I really loved your friends

After carefully guiding Roman away from the crowd and inside, you could still hear your friends talking about what happened. You used the term friends loosely, as they were mostly people you knew through Roman, most of which you’d only spoken to a few times.

Now that you set Roman down on a couch, you were staring down at the text JJ just sent you when you happened to overhear the conversation happening behind you.

“I mean, he’s just out of control!” A girl you’d spoken to maybe three times had said. Her name was Mandi, you caught the way she was looking at your boyfriend the whole night. It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would.

“I know!” Another girl spoke up. She’d introduced herself to you earlier, but you couldn’t remember her name for the life of you. “It’s no surprise though, those pogues are insane!”

You stiffened. They were talking about JJ. Your JJ.

“Well, it’s no shocker, right? Have you seen his dad? He spends so much time locked up, of course he raised someone like that!”

You turned, momentarily forgetting your boyfriend and the bruises all over his face.

JJ had always been polite when you had to sneak off to hang out with the kooks. When you called them your friends, JJ never said anything about it, even though you could see how little he trusted them. You knew better than anyone how much JJ hated them, but he never slandered them to you, all he would do is carefully remind you of your worth.

That’s always what he’d done. Remind you of your worth. And you were worth more than this.

Well, I never did

“Can you just shut up?” The words spilled from your lips before you could catch them, and suddenly everyone was staring at you.

“Excuse me?” One of the girls gives you a look, expecting you to back down the instant you got any pushback.

“Don’t tell me you’re defending the guy that beat the shit out of your boyfriend.” Another said, and you briefly remembered where you were, who you were surrounded by. You cast a guilty look to Roman, who was still sat on the couch, now glaring harshly at you.

“I-” Your brain felt scrambled, trapped between your best friends and the group of kooks staring at you. “JJ’s my friend.”

The girls exchanged looks, holding back a laugh. You took a step away from them, beginning to realize that you’ve been more worried about JJ than Roman this whole time.

For a moment, you remembered the day JJ pulled you aside to remind you how much better than these kooks you were. You tried to brush him off, but he wouldn’t let you. He kept his hands on your shoulders until he felt like he’d cemented the fact that you deserved better in your mind.

“You know what?” Your voice sounded much stronger than you felt. “You’re all assholes.”

With that, you spun around, heading towards the door. For a second, you weren’t sure of where you were going, but the destination was engrained deep within your soul.

My brain holds too many poisons

Just before you could get to the door, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you back.

“Y/N.” Roman’s voice was tight, holding back a deep anger. “Don’t leave.”

Looking up at him, you hesitated. His eye was swollen, and there was a cut on his cheek with a dark bruise forming along his jaw. When he opened his mouth, you could see blood faintly staining his teeth.

“JJ’s my friend.” You repeated, keeping your voice even.

“Well, your friend just attacked me.” He kept his hand on your arm, tightening his grip a little more. “I can’t believe you’re still defending him after what he did, you’re insane!”

You were too conflicted. Sure, it hurt seeing him like this, but you couldn’t shake the worry you had for JJ. It was a worry you couldn’t shake after being the one to clean him up after a fight so many times.

“I’m not-” You stopped, taking a breath to collect your thoughts.

“Not what? He’s just trying to ruin our relationship, why can’t you see that?” The way he raised his voice made you flinch back, eyes wide with shock. “He’s always been trying to ruin us, ever since- ever since he left you that stupid voicemail!”

They helped me make the wrong choices

Every part of your body tensed up, staring at him.

“What voicemail?”

It felt like something was happening around you, like there was something big looming just behind you but you couldn’t see it yet.

Roman hesitated, his grip on your arm loosening enough that you could pull away. “I didn’t mean-”

“What voicemail, Roman?” It felt like you were outside of your own body watching this happen. Your voice felt distant, as if you weren’t the one speaking.

“Nothing.” He reached out for your hand, growing exasperated. The way he tried to grab you felt performative, like he was trying to play the part of the perfect boyfriend. “Let’s just talk, okay? In private.” He glanced for a moment at the group of girls still standing nearby, whispering while they stared the two of you down.

All he cared about was his reputation.

You took a step back, your brows furrowing. “No.”

“No?” He looked at you, the possessive tone making your stomach churn. “Y/N. Let’s talk.”

Another few steps and you’d be at the door. You could leave right now if you wanted.

But you needed answers.

“What. Voicemail.” You asked again, twisting your arm away from him when he tried to grab it.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

Roman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“That night he called you. He left a voicemail.” He started to explain, not looking at you.

“No, he didn’t.” You looked at him, confused, taking another step away from him. “No, he- I didn’t see a voicemail. He didn’t leave a voicemail.”

Still refusing to look at you, Roman shook his head.

“That’s cause I deleted it.”

And the ball drops.

You stared at him for a long time, feeling your world turning upside down in real time. A trust broken forever in the blink of an eye.

“How did you even-” You whispered, taking another step back. Just a few more and you’d be gone.

“You told me your phone password a few months ago.” Despite the guilt in his tone, when he finally met your gaze, he looked at you as if it was your fault. As if you should take the blame for daring to trust him.

Your mind jumped to every moment you let him borrow your phone, every moment you gave it to him for safekeeping, every moment you trusted him.

But I make them more than most

“We’re done.” You said, taking a final step back. You were at the door now, resting a hand on the handle.

“No, wait-” He rushed towards you, pulling on your wrist. “Please, hear me out.”

“Hear you out?” Your voice was louder than you expected, and if stragglers from the party weren’t staring at you already, they definitely were now. “You looked through my phone?”

You couldn’t believe this. You felt like your head was spinning. Pulling away, you threw the door open, storming outside, hearing his footsteps following just behind you.

“It was just to see what the voicemail said! I swear, I just- I did it 'cause I love you!”

You froze.

Neither of you had said those words yet.

Spinning around, you glared at him, desperately trying to ignore the tears welling up in your eyes. “No, you don’t!”

He caught up to you almost immediately, putting both hands on your shoulders. “I swear, I just did it 'cause I didn’t want you to get all confused. I know you used to have feelings for him…”

Used to?

“What did he say?” You asked, forcing yourself not to look away from him.

“Please-”

“What. Did. He. Say.” His touch on your shoulders was making you feel sick, but you didn’t pull away. Not yet.

“He- he said he loved you. Kept going on about how I wasn’t treating you right, that he would treat you better-”

“He’s right.” Finally pulling away, you gave him as firm of a look as you could manage with tears in your eyes.

And it's my fault that I live my life

“I can’t believe you.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, turning away from him and walking away from the beach. The party had almost entirely died down by now, but you could still feel every eye on you as you stormed away from Roman, wiping angry tears from your eyes.

He called after you, but you refused to turn around. Your mind had already shifted to the thought of JJ, wondering if he was okay.

You walked past a few groups of people before you finally made it out of the sand, reaching the street.

Faintly, you could still hear him calling after you, begging you to reconsider and give him a second chance. His voice sounded desperate like he was starting to cry.

Sniffling, you wiped away another tear that slipped down your cheek.

You still didn’t turn around.

Running away from ghosts

The Chateau wasn’t very far from the party, but it was still a bit of a walk. Long enough that the times you’d wanted to walk back, JJ never let you go alone.

You sighed at the memory, kicking a rock as you took another step.

It didn’t help that after five minutes, you felt a droplet of water hit you. It was starting to rain.

Still, you continued on, the thought of JJ sitting alone in the guest room of the Chateau only encouraging you further. Logically, you knew he could reach out to John B, Pope, or Kiara if he wanted to. But you also knew he wouldn’t. He had a tendency to shut down, pushing people away in his worst moments.

You walked right past his house, knowing better than to check to see if he was even home. Especially after a party, there was no way he’d be going home like that.

The rain continued to fall, growing quickly from a small drizzle into pouring rain. It didn’t take long for your clothes to be soaked through before you even made it halfway to the house.

Too many skeletons

As you trudged down the street, you couldn’t help but think about JJ. You’d been avoiding him and the pogues for weeks. You knew they weren’t stupid enough to know you were pushing them away, saying no every time they wanted to hang out with you. Part of you worried he wouldn’t even want to see you again, but you couldn’t let it happen. You needed to talk to him again.

The last time you hung out with JJ alone felt like years ago. Sure, you’d hung out with the pogues and he’d been there, but you and JJ hadn’t hung out just the two of you in forever.

He snuck in through your window – you started keeping a ladder by it just in case ever since the second time he showed up unannounced. He brought snacks and sat next to you in your bed while you watched movies for hours.

Despite the rain and the tears streaming down your face, you smiled at the memory before your face quickly fell, remembering just how long ago it was. It happened about a week before you started dating Roman. A week before your relationship with JJ got tense and distant.

How could you be so stupid? How could you let Roman ruin everything?

Another tear slipped down your face, mixing with the rain.

Too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been

After a while, you looked up, seeing the Chateau in the distance. You picked up your pace, a newfound energy in you once your destination was in sight.

The lights were on, and through one of the windows, you could see someone moving around. Squinting, you noticed it couldn’t be JJ. The movements were too casual, and the silhouette wasn’t quite right.

“John B,” You whispered, running a hand over your face to wipe off some of the rainwater that covered you.

When you got closer, you saw Kiara and Pope sitting outside on the covered porch. They immediately halted their conversation when they saw you, staring wide-eyed.

“Uh,” You walked up the steps, facing them nervously. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Kiara gave you a tight smile, glancing at Pope, the two having a silent conversation.

“How’s Roman’s face?” Pope asked, earning another look from Kiara.

“He’s… I don’t know, I-” You stopped, having so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t form a coherent sentence. After a moment, you took a shaky breath. “I kinda just broke up with him.”

“Oh shit.” Pope leaned forward in his seat.

“You did? Oh my god.” You could tell from the look in Kiara’s eyes that her first thought was JJ. She was the first one you told about how in love with him you were, after all.

There was a beat of silence, where none of you knew what to say.

“He’s, uh, he’s inside,” Kiara said quietly, nodding towards the house.

You nodded, turning away from them to knock at the door.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

You heard immediate shuffling once you knocked at the door.

It wasn’t long before John B pulled the door open, freezing when he saw you.

“Can I see him?” You asked, not even realizing you were still shivering from the rain.

“Uh,” He glanced behind him, craning his neck to look down the hall to the guest room where the door was still shut.

“Please.” John B looked back at you, seeing the desperation in your eyes.

“Yeah. He’s in his room.”

He stepped aside and you walked into the Chateau. The instant you were inside, you felt the memories flooding back to you. It was painful, realizing that you were pushing your best friends away.

“Need a towel?” John B’s voice brought you out of your daze. “You’re kinda-” He gestured vaguely to you, shivering and soaked to the bone.

You had half a mind to say no, wanting nothing more than to beeling to the guest room to see JJ. Still, John B was already grabbing a towel, tossing it into your arms.

Quickly, you wiped it over your face, drying off as much as you could. You were still freezing, but you felt slightly better.

“Thank you.” Carefully, you set the towel down, now looking down the hallway where the guest room was.

At first, your steps were slow, but by the time you reached the door, you were practically running.

You're the one that I miss the most

You burst through the door, freezing in your tracks when you saw JJ.

He was sat at the head of the bed, covering his face with his hands, not looking up at you. His hair was messed up, and you could clearly see the bruises and cuts along his knuckles, still fresh from the fight. You didn’t get a good glimpse of his face at the party, and you knew it was going to kill you to see what Roman did to him.

At the sound of the door opening, JJ sighed quietly. He looked so defeated.

“John B, can you just-”

“JJ.” You breathed out, making him visibly tense. He looked up quickly, disbelief in his eyes.

You couldn’t form any words past his name, staring at the boy you loved for so long. There were tear stains on his face, and the sight almost destroyed you. Seeing him sitting there, staring back at you, just as speechless as you felt, made your heart swell.

The feeling faded almost instantly, and you felt sick to your stomach when his gaze shifted, and a wave of forced indifference fell over his features.

My brain holds too many poisons

“What are you doing here?” His voice had a harshness to it that you fought hard to ignore.

“I-” You tried to speak, but your voice kept getting caught in your throat.

All you could do was stare at him. How much he’d changed in two weeks and how little he changed at the same time. He looked endlessly tired, and he had his guard up in a way he didn’t have since the two of you met.

“JJ-”

“You shouldn’t be here. Don’t you have a boyfriend to be taking care of?” The coldness in his voice made you shrink in on yourself.

“I don’t- I was-” You forced yourself to inhale, before exhaling slowly. “I was worried about you.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be.” His voice wasn’t as harsh now, but you could hear the bitterness behind it.

The fact that you hurt JJ hurt you so much that you almost started crying again.

They helped me make the wrong choices

He’s refusing to look at you, but you can still see the damage Roman had done.

Slowly, you walked toward him, gently lifting his chin to make him look at you, your gaze softening at how bad his face looked. It was slightly reassuring to see that they didn’t look nearly as bad as Roman’s looked, but it hurt more seeing JJ hurt like this.

He moved your hand away, being gentle with you despite the glare still on his face.

“John B cleaned me up. Why are you here?”

“He didn’t do a very good job.” You said, noticing the first aid kit and the damp cloth still sitting on the nightstand.

Opening it, you inspect what supplies you have to work with, before grabbing the cloth and turning back to JJ.

“Can I?”

He nodded ever so slightly, not looking at you.

As carefully as you could, you began to clean up his face. He had a busted lip, and there was a cut under one of his eyes with a bruise forming around it. When he hissed in pain at your touch, you stop for a moment, moving as gently and carefully as possible.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

Once you finished up, you took a step back to inspect his face. He still won’t look up at you, and you understood why. You couldn’t blame him for being angry.

“I fucked up, I know.” You sighed, picking the damp cloth back up.

JJ said nothing, finally looking at you while you carefully picked up his hand, cradling it in yours. You inspected the bruises along his knuckles, frowning.

“This looks bad.” You muttered, dabbing the wet cloth over the few cuts on his hand.

“Looks worse than it feels.” He said, his voice softer now. It didn’t have the same coldness to it anymore, and you had to stop yourself from tearing up at the thought that he just might forgive you.

You stayed silent for a while, trying to ignore JJ’s gaze burning into you while you worked on his hand. JJ was the one to break the silence, shifting slightly in his spot on the bed.

“You’re soaking wet.” There was a rasp to his voice while he observed you, noticing the slight shiver while your clothes clung to your body.

“It started raining while I was running over here.” You replied now that you finished cleaning his knuckles, voice so quiet JJ had to strain to hear you.

But I make them more than most

Hesitantly, you took a seat next to him on the bed, leaning back against the headboard.

“I never knew, you know.” You tucked your knees close to your chest, not looking at him. “How you felt.”

“Then why did you ignore me? You told me not to speak to you again-” JJ stopped himself, noticing the way he was raising his voice. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Just- why?”

“My boyfriend.” You started, resting your head on your knees. Still, you couldn’t look at him, a deep-rooted shame building within you, disappointed at yourself for listening to Roman blindly. “He told me you were trying to ruin my relationship.”

JJ rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. He inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to speak again when you stopped him.

“I broke up with him.”

Now, JJ’s full focus was on you, the anger in his eyes dying just a little. “You what?”

“I didn’t know about the voicemail.” You continued, shifting a little in your seat.

JJ reached a hand out, resting it on your leg as a silent reminder.

A reminder that he’s here for you. After everything.

And it's my fault that I live my life

“I didn’t know, I really didn’t.” You said quietly, cringing at the way your voice broke.

The bed dipped a little when JJ moved, leaning forward to look at you.

“Hey-”

“He deleted it, I never-” You turn slightly to look at him, realizing just how close he was to you now. “I never heard it.”

“It’s fine, I was drunk. It was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry it happened.” He looked away from you for only a moment before his eyes were on you again. “I didn’t mean to ruin our friendship.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t do anything.” You turned your attention to JJ’s hand still on your leg, his thumb rubbing up and down.

“Y/N-” He started, sighing softly.

“No, JJ, don’t.” You knew JJ well enough to know he would start blaming himself, and you tried to put a stop to it, putting your hands on either side of his face.

Running away from ghosts

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I shouldn’t have listened to him, he-” With a start, you realized how close you were to JJ now, not having the heart to move your hands away from his face.

“Okay. I believe you. It wasn’t my fault.” He said, unable to tear his gaze away from you.

“He’s an asshole.” You tried to laugh it off, but it fell short when you saw JJ’s eyes dart down to your lips before focusing back on your eyes.

“So,” He whispered, one of his hands resting on your waist, the other still on your leg. “Why did you come here, anyway?”

The question hung in the air, floating in the small space between you and JJ. He was only inches away, and it was becoming increasingly hard to focus on anything other than the urge to kiss him.

“Y/N?” He spoke up again when you didn’t respond. But who could blame you? He was so close, looking at you so softly that it was making your brain short-circuit.

“I needed to see you.” You finally said, looking between JJ’s eyes and his lips.

JJ didn’t respond, staring at you with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

Too many skeletons

“Why did you need to see me?” He asked after what felt like forever.

“I was worried about you. I had to make sure you were okay.” Your voice was soft, whispering like the words were meant for JJ alone.

“I’m okay.” He said, his voice holding the same softness yours did.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from him, dropping your hands to your lap. JJ, however, kept his hands on you, bringing the hand on your waist up to rub your arm.

“I’m sorry for pushing you away. I’m sorry for letting Roman ruin our friendship. I just- I was just scared.” You couldn’t look up at him, dropping your gaze down to your lap.

“Scared of what?” He leaned forward slightly, still needing to be so close to you.

“I think I was just scared of my feelings.” The second the words left your mouth, you felt warm all over, not wanting to be rejected by JJ after everything.

“Your feelings?”

You nodded, keeping your attention down, fiddling with the blanket laid over the top of the bed.

Too hard to keep them in the closet where they've been

“I’ve always liked you, JJ. I’ve- I’ve always loved you.”

JJ’s breath hitched, and you could hear him whisper your name. Still, you don’t look up at him, unable to make eye contact with how vulnerable you felt.

“Hey.” His voice is soft, and you don’t move away when one of his hands rests over yours. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Weakly, you looked up at him, seeing a fondness in his eyes that you’d never seen before. There was a smile pulling at his lips

You found yourself entranced by the look in his eyes, unable to look away.

We all make stupid mistakes sometimes

“It was stupid, I shouldn’t have left you because he told me to.” He leaned closer, listening to your apology with a newfound giddiness. “I’m sorry.”

There was a frown on your face despite the growing smile on his own face.

“You love me?”

For a moment, you were surprised, suddenly feeling very vulnerable with the way JJ was looking at you. It felt like he could see into your soul, unearthing every secret you’d ever had.

“I-” There was a part of you that wanted to deny it, to save face and tell him you didn’t mean it. But something about the way he was staring at you like you held all the stars in your eyes made you stop. “Yeah. Yeah, I love you. Of course I do, JJ.”

His grin grew wider, and he leaned closer still.

You're the one that I miss the most

JJ put one hand on your cheek, his other hand still resting over your hand. As gently as he could, he pulled you toward him until your face was inches away from his.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart beating fast in your chest.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, so close to you that his nose was touching yours.

Instead of responding, you closed the distance between you two, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck while he brought you closer.

Finally, when you pulled back for air, JJ rested his forehead against yours.

“I missed you.” He mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

You grinned, feeling like your heart might beat entirely out of your chest as you shut him up with another kiss. It was a silent agreement between the two of you, to never leave again.

An agreement that you would be here for each other. After everything.

#jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader

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starbanmk · 16 days

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promises/betrayals

—

It had been a couple months before the eruption, and Ashswagg had allowed Red to drag him to a nearby open field. The early summer breeze flowed through Red's hair as he laughed, watching Ash as he was pushed about by the wind, the smell of smoke filling the air.

Existence was easy with Reddoons. Ash wasn't a god with him. Ash was just Ash.

What a stupid thing for a god to think.

"I'm just saying, the old myths are more infuriating than anything." Red explained as the pair found a nice spot to settle down. The roman sunk into the grass. "Like, hey, a prophet told us our kid's gonna kill us? Let's send him far away so he has no emotional attachment to us and is more likely to not show us mercy! The logic is terrible."

"You just don't believe in fate." Ash reminded. "Suspend your disbelief."

"It's more fun to be annoyed."

Red was annoyed often. Never with Ash. Or maybe he was, but he never showed it.

"I think everyone in the multiverse is smarter than the people in myths."

Ash's head snapped to look at Red.

"The multiverse." Ash repeated.

Red raised an eyebrow.

"You're not supposed to know about that."

Red shrugged "Being friends with a god has is perks."

A part of Ash soured at that. Friends.

Instead he joked, "Wow, what happened to 'I'd do so many things for you'? Only worship me for the perks."

"I worship you because you were made to be worshipped."

"I was made to be worshipped by more that just one guy who's religion doesn't even align with the plane I exist on."

"I still like to think you were made to be worshipped by me." Red countered, and suddenly Ash's world was very quiet. After a moment of silence, Reddoons changed the subject, as things usually went.

"And you know I'm kind of a shoddy roman." He continued, plucking blades of grass from the field and weaving them into bands. "Don't really believe in those guys."

Ash snorted. "Hope Jupiter can't hear you. He's an asshole."

"Have you met him?"

"In passing."

Red shook his head in disbelief, a small smile playing on his lips. "I forget sometimes. That you're something so much bigger than me."

"Not here, I'm not." Ashswagg said, before he could really think about it. He wouldn't take it back, but he hated how Reddoons could make him say the silliest things. "I'm nothing like Jupiter, anyway. He actually does things."

"You do things." Red assured, gesturing for Ash to shift his from to something more solid. He slipped something akin to a promise ring onto Ash's hand. "Sometimes."

Ash rolled his eyes."I'm just a figurehead. For smoke, too, which is pretty silly."

Red hummed.

"I'm like what Queen Elizabeth the Second was for Canada. No Canadian really cares about The Queen."

"What's the hell's Canada."

Ash laughed. "Multiverse things."

A comfortable quiet settled across the feild, and Reddoons took the time to make a couple more woven bands before asking, "So, where do you exist?"

"Everywhere."

"Do I exist everywhere?"

Ash shrugged, "Maybe."

And things were quiet again. But never for long.

"I think I'd love you wherever we exist together."

And Ash couldn't help but smile.

—

But this Reddoons wasn't a rose guy. This Reddoons hadn't given him anything more than a cigarette and a black eye. This Reddoons didn't want to talk about it.

A couple months later, Reddoons would learn he'd developped chronic obstructive pulmonary disease from smoking so much. A few more months, and he'd pass.

Ashswagg left the timeline.

—

[end of part six]

#rosesandsmokeweek2024 #swagdoons #ashswag #reddoons #lsshipping #lifesteal smp #mcyt #lssmp #rocco writing #hmmmmm oh gosh he. dies. hope that doesnt happen to the others #day two #rocco rosesandsmoke #also on ao3 #btw

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shesaysrodriguez · 5 months

Text

Nico honestly did not mean to stumble into the area of a public pool.

He was in New York for the first time in what felt like forever, and he thought he knew his way around. Apparently not. He felt embarrassed, actually; a 22 year old man lost in a city he used to know quite well. He'd had enough after a while of wandering around, trying to find the stupid museum he was looking for. And so he walked into the nearest building near him, which just so happened to be an outdoor public pool with a little information stall next to it. It was hot, in the peak of July and his black shirt and aviator jacket were weighing him down uncomfortably. He waited 15 minutes by the information stall (that had no one in it) when he saw a mop of surprisingly familiar black hair raise out of the water.

Percy motherfucking Jackson.

As more and more of his body became revealed from below the water, Nico couldn't help but stare. He faintly remembered why he had a crush on him when he was a kid.

"Nico?" Nico looked up- he didn't realise he was daydreaming, staring at the floor. When he caught sight of Percy in all his half-naked glory, he understood why Hazel had mistook him for a Roman god upon first meeting him.

"Uh, hey. Percy." Nico replied awkwardly with a nod. Why did he have to get so *awkward*?

"Are you okay? You look a little.....lost." Percy frowned down at him. Percy didn't mean lost as in he didn't know where he was, he meant lost as in *in the wrong place entirely*. He knew Nico well enough to know that a public pool, let alone outdoors was not Nico's scene. Speaking of, Percy realised that he hadn't seen Nico in about a year and a half. On his 21st birthday, Percy and Annabeth had dragged him to a club and invited Hazel, Frank, Leo, Rachel and everyone else. They'd had fun, but Nico had disappeared after that. Hazel obviously passed the message on that he was okay, which Percy and Annabeth were grateful for; they really cared about Nico.

"Oh yeah. I'm.....no, actually I am lost. Can you believe that? I'm looking for some museum..." Nico recited the name of this godforsaken museum that had escaped his sights. Percy laughed.

"I hate to break it to you, Neeks, but that place isn't open on Saturdays." Nico wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Don't ever call me "Neeks" again, thank you very much. And I didn't know that it was Saturday today." He let that last part slip without much thought. He honestly didn't think Percy would look too much into it, but of course, Perseus Jackson lives to disappoint.

"You don't know what day it is?" His brows were furrowed with pure worry then. If Nico didn't know what day it was, then that meant he hadn't been sleeping. And when he didn't sleep, he got sick. Really sick. "Nico when was the last time you slept?"

"I don't need sleep, Jackson, I'm a busy man. I don't have time for that." Nico immediately became defensive. The last thing he needed was some lecture, especially not from a guy whose abs he could not look away from.

"Listen, come back to mine and Annabeth's apartment, take a nap- just a quick one," he jumped in when Nico began to protest. "And we'll get you a subway or something. How did you even get here? You figure out mortal travel yet?" Nico shook his head.

"Shadow travelled. I'll come back with you, but regarding the sleep, that's a maybe." Percy gives him a disappointed look at the mention of shadow travel, knowing that Nico hadn't been taking care of himself as he'd promised Hazel, but had to smile at the prospect of Nico coming over. Annabeth would be glad to see him.

"Alright, I'll get dressed, and we'll go. It's only about 10 minutes on foot." He walks away to the changing rooms, and Nico considered asking him not to put his clothes back on. He was enjoying the view, what could he say?

When Percy got back 5 minutes later, hair still wet, he surprised Nico and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"I wish you'd tell us you're okay when you disappear. Anna was worried sick, her grey streak almost came back." He laughed, and Nico awkwardly patted his upper arm. How was he supposed to act? The only person who ever hugged him was Hazel, and he hadn't seen her for months.

"You're getting pool water on me, ocean boy." Nico snapped in an aggressive tone, but Percy just laughed at him. When he pulled back, he took note of the new tattoo on Nico's right hand. It was a skeleton design, tracing his finger bones and the joints in his wrist. Because of his sleeve, Percy couldn't see how far the tattoo went, but he'd like to find out.

Percy and Annabeth often had conversations about Nico during his absences. After one particular night of drinking fancy wine in their tiny apartment, Annabeth had let slip that Nico was the only man other than Percy that she'd take to bed. As soon as she'd said it, Percy had discovered a few things about himself. He took her to bed that night imagining a third body between them, and later admitted that he wished Nico wasn't gay so that he could join them. It wasn't romantic. It was just attraction. Just a want. Just a little steam that would blow over. Except it didn't. Months passed, and anytime his name came up in conversation, Annabeth and Percy would pass a look between them. They both knew they missed him.

Now he was here in front of Percy.

"When did you get that done?" Percy pulled Nico's hand up for a closer look, ignoring the tingling that came with it. Nico's heart sped up, and he put it down to the fact that Percy was touching him while covered in pool germs.

"Couple months ago. Some seedy shop in Chicago." He pulled his hand back. "So where did you say you and Annabeth lived?"

The walk back is awkward to say the least. Nico just following Percy like a lost dog, and Percy walking confidently down the street in his college hoodie with his duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"So you still swim?" Percy was shocked and thrilled with the prospect of Nico starting a conversation.

"Uh, yeah. After swimming for the college team, I guess I just never dropped it. Gotta stay in shape somehow." He chuckled, and Nico thought: yes. Yes you do.

When they arrived outside the door of their apartment: number 17, Nico began to get nervous. He was starting to remember the reason he avoided Percy and Annabeth after his 21st birthday. Could he really handle being so close to both of them at the same time again? Neither of them remember what happened at the club that night, and Nico couldn't be more grateful.

He didn't have time to run, though, because Percy had excitedly thrown open the apartment door, and shouted to Annabeth.

"Annabeth, come here. Look who I found stranded!"

Huge thanks to my beta reader and biggest fan, @kanaiow check out her Prof she's amazing!!!

#percicobeth #percy pjo #annabeth chase #percy jackson #nico di angelo #percico #percabeth

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kerubimcrepin · 3 months

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Live-read: Trying to understand the Aux Tresors novels without actually reading the novels in question.

This is the last, and the most borderline-experimental and cringe-flop part of the reading break #1, because in this post, I will be discussing the five novels based on the show.

Without actually reading them.

Nobody has seemingly ever scanned or copied them, and I don't have the ability to buy them. If you're French, or a rich person, perhaps you could get your hands on them and tell me how wrong I am, but until then, let's speculate.

You can find the... (sighs deep as fuck) Plot Summaries on Otakia. Everything I will discuss here comes from Otakia. You can find the books somewhere else. Perhaps Amazon, probably some other site too... Because as far as I remember, Ankama's literal official shop only has one of the five.

Roman Kerubim (Dofus) Tome 1 : Le ciel sur la tête

>Read about it here

To regurgitate a bit of info from Otakia: just like the Wakfu novels, which apparently also exist, these five novels are kind of like... a bonus episode in a written form, following the structure of the show.

When grabbing quotes from Otakia I will be putting them into a translator and then screenshotting, so that you can quickly read them, and so that I don't have to copy things.

But I won't be copying the descriptions or summaries of the books, just the bits I'd like to elaborate on. You can read them yourself there.

To reference that one meme: Why didn't he start thinking about his dead parents? Is he stupid?

OKAY, I really didn't expect this post to go anywhere, but it's funny that even in Dofus times, Porkass people were known to eat Twelvians.

You will never fucking guess with what nation Bonta of the Waven era, is involved in a seemingly mutually cannibalistic war with.

Roman Kerubim (Dofus) Tome 2 : Une étoile pour le shérif

>Read about it here

I want to thank whoever runs Otakia for uploading this image specifically. Thank you Monsieur/Madame Otakia.

You may notice that, I will be upscaling all the images I bring here from the Otakia articles. The reason for this is that I am a normal and sane person, and need to look at it in a crispier way.

As you may remember, Kerubim already said that he used to be a sheriff in episode 16, West of Astrub.

The writer of this article will literally be like "the book gives you candy, sucks your dick clean and dry, cleans up your home, and then it gives you a hundred dollars, so I didn't like it."

I wish Kerubim would be a fucking loser and a menace more often.

In the Judgement of The Twelve episode, Kerubim and Bashi had already mentioned meething each other many times as young adults, and having stories about it, so it's nice to see this factoid utilized for more than 2 episodes, if only in a book.

Also, yet again, Kerubim literally doing his job and Bashi being fucking insane and hating him for it, despite doing far worse things.

Roman Kerubim (Dofus) Tome 3 : Panique à Astrub

>Read about it here

Indie is insane for this btw.

Joris canonically eats burgers and YES reading this article a while back is the reason I put burgers into my Joris fanart.

You can see full art on my general artblog @atcham-crepin. Yeah, my blog naming scheme is very creative, I know.

I just think his refined ass eating burgers is funny, even though in canon he is only depicted doing this as a kid.

Roman Kerubim (Dofus) Tome 4 : Le décapiteur de soiffard

>Read about it here

Including the cover art because it is very nice, and to draw your attention to THE best novel none of us will ever get to fucking read.

My dream Joris & Simone story, and I can't even read it. Smh.

List of things I love about this:

Joris stealing stuff.

Simone being a leader.

Kerubim, as we had seen in the past episodes, literally the type to text something like "I am not long for this world.... tell my family I love them." over a tummy ache. I hate this man so much it's unreal.

Of Course he sent them on a wild goose chase over some random bullshit.

Simone and Joris @ Kerubim at the end of this book:

Roman Kerubim (Dofus) Tome 5 : Tous en piste

>Read about it here

I will be real, I don't think any living being can tame that fucking beast.

These books are just treating us with characters in outfits we hadn't seen them in, in the show. It would be... a better world, if these books were episodes instead.

Also, want to yet again remind you that I am upscaling the shit out of these images. Because I'm normal. But at times the results can be wonky.

The World of Twelve has never seen, and will never see again, a couple more toxic than them. Sad!

Unlike the Simone & Joris book, I yet again don't have much to say, but, I'm sure I would, had the books been available to me.

This brings me to a close with the first reading break. After this post, I will resume liveblogging about the show. But I do have ideas of what the next reading break entail, and I think they're rather fun! Like "trying to read Dofus manga without reading Dofus manga" or "reviewing Dofus Aux Tresors merch without buying Dofus Aux Tresors Merch", or, perhaps, "scrying on a crystal ball to read Tot Ankama's thoughts."

...Yeah. Only the last one is a joke.

#novels #ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #tagging because I want a broader circle of fans to know about the existence of the novels #so that maybe a kind pro-p*racy frenchman will someday upload them to l*brary g*nisis. i don't know.

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space-mermaid-writing · 2 years

Text

The witchling and the god [Loki x Witch!Reader] Chapter 6

Summary: The Avengers were looking for someone to help Loki fit in with the team. To become socially acceptable, so to speak. He had been given the choice of sitting in a cell in Asgard or serving some sort of community service probation on Midgard. The Avengers and Shield both felt that as long as Loki was on Earth, he should be under supervision. This is now your job. Why? Because you’re a witch. You’re not sure why this qualifies you, but here you are, giving it a shot. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Witch!Reader, Magic, Witches, slow burn, everybody lives in the tower, character development, Loki‘s redemption, Stephen Strange is a friend, Loki and Stephen are frenemies, Tony Stark is a good bro, kids love Loki, Tony has stupid nicknames for everybody, eventual smut

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Read it on AO3 | Previous | Next

Chapter's Note: I know that 'Make a wish' and 'Meet your hero' are two different things but for the sake of this story I do not care. You know what is meant. More kids loving Loki in this chapter. Beta by @zaria-04 <3

Chapter 6: Make a wish

The next few days pass by quite uneventfully. However, there is one thing you can't get out of your head and that is how easily Loki dealt with the child. And after some thinking, you have an idea.

"Do you know what the 'Make a wish foundation' is?" you ask the God of Mischief one morning.

"I do not. But from the name, I would guess that this foundation makes wishes come true."

"Exactly. It's for kids with serious illnesses. One part of it is where kids who have to stay in hospitals permanently or long-term can meet their idols. Right now, Spider-Man is very popular, but there are also meet and greets with singers or famous artists," you explain, showing him some videos and pictures of these meetings on a tablet. "Sometimes just a double or an actor who looks like the idol comes in."

"And you want me to do something like that?" Loki laughs, but not amused. "That's something for your so-called heroes. Why would anyone want to meet me, the evil one?"

Some day you should talk to him about how he sees himself. "You wouldn't go there as a villain, but as a Norse god," you explain. "A lot of kids are interested in mythology. Especially when they're sick and are looking for comfort or answers. I went through a Roman phase myself when I was young, and I just devoured all the myths and stories."

"Pah, Jupiter is no match for us," Loki retorts dismissively, but seems to be thinking about your words, because he tilts his head and stares at a vague point. He usually does this when he is lost in thought. You give him all the time he needs.

"I'd better not ask. I don't know if I could handle knowing that more gods are real. I'd have to ask you about Jesus." You speak more to yourself than to him, but of course Loki opens his mouth, which is why you quickly add: "Please, don't answer that."

Amused, he closes his mouth again.

"You don't have to decide right now, okay? Just think about it for a little bit. I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think it was a good idea," you say, "It's about the kids. So it will be absolutely necessary that there are no incidents. There will be some rules put in place. But it would be a good opportunity to build your reputation. And I imagine you might even have fun doing it."

"I hardly think so," the Asgardian retorts.

"Why not? A room full of little Loki fans adoring you should just be to your liking."

Your words make him think. "When you put it that way, it actually sounds tempting. Fine, I‘ll do it."

That's how quickly it's decided.

You'd discussed the idea with Tony beforehand, of course. Surprisingly, he had no objections, and now that Loki has agreed, you can get down to the actual preparations and planning.

It takes a little while until everything is organized. With the help of Doctor Stephen Strange you found a children's hospital with integrated hospice, which is outside of New York and perfectly suited for your project. You got on the phone with the staff and after a few calls you were able to set a date. They already had experience there with this type of meet and greet, although there had probably never been a god among the idols.

You did not reveal that he is a literal god. It's about the kids and you don't want to stir up suspicion in advance.

A driver takes Loki and you there, along with two agents in civilian clothes. That's standard procedure and SHIELD insists on it. The two would keep a low profile, but could step in if it became necessary. Even if it was just to keep out unwanted onlookers.

To quote the team leader, "You'd be surprised by some of the strange incidents we've had."

In the car, you give Loki a final briefing.

"It's important that you stay calm, no matter what," you remind him. "And no magic!"

"No magic that anyone notices as such," he corrects you.

"No magic that anyone notices as such," you repeat, adding, "And no chaos. I know chaos is a part of you, but in this case, please keep it to a manageable minimum."

"Yes, ma’am." Loki salutes mockingly. "No chaos, no deaths, I won't even set a single fire."

You're glad he takes it with humor and isn't offended. The truth is, you're probably more nervous than he is. This is a big deal. Not a simple lunch where the two of you are more or less alone. He's about to stand in front of kids and interact with them. Kids are unpredictable, but you trust your instincts. You wouldn't do this if you had a bad feeling about it.

"I'm sorry, I know you'll do a good job," you smile apologetically. "I trust you."

Loki's expression changes as he looks at you and nods. You get the feeling he's never looked so sincere before.

How long has he been waiting for someone to say those words to him? And mean them. Such simple words, but with a big impact.

Your attention is drawn from each other as the car stops.

You enter the hospital as a group and at the reception desk you meet the administrator and the head nurse, with whom you had spoken on the phone. A few minutes of shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries follow. Loki takes the lead on this and you let him.

He has dressed up especially for the occasion. He wears fine, Asgardian clothes, ornately decorated and an aura of royalty surrounds him. It is hard not to be captivated by him and your eyes keep wandering to him.

The head nurse - she has introduced herself as Nurse Chapel and belongs to the kind of person who is cordial but does not tolerate nonsense. You take an instant liking in her - leads you to the second floor.

"The kids are all between eight and eleven years old," she tells you along the way. "Their conditions go from cancer to genetic defects. But it has been a good day so far."

Loki doesn't know these disease names, but you explained to him ahead of time why the kids need to be here in the hospital.

"How fragile are they?" he wants to know.

"Probably less than you think. Go ahead and make them laugh from the heart. It's good for them." Chapel stops in front of a door. "Ready?" she asks Loki.

He looks briefly at you, then nods. "Yes."

The head nurse walks in first and announces Loki, who follows her promptly. You fall back a few steps and enter the room unobtrusively. The two undercover agents remain in the hallway.

The room is comfortably furnished, almost like a living room of sorts, with several seating options. Eight children sit in a semicircle in the middle and you spot two more nurses with them. The children all look far too pale and thin for their age. Most are wearing scarves tied around their heads instead of hair and one boy is pushing an IV around. But their faces are all beaming as their attention is on Loki. He has joined them in the circle and is about to answer their questions, which they immediately throw at him.

"Why isn't your hair red?" asks the boy with the IV. His voice croaks a little. "I thought Loki was a ginger."

"I'm over a thousand years old. It’s boring to always have the same color of hair." Loki puts the flat of his hand on his hairline in his forehead so that it covers it, then slides his hand up a bit. The hair underneath suddenly appears orange-red. "See. It's easy." When he moves his hand back, the area is black again.

So much for no magic.

The kids make a general "Ooooooh!" sound.

"Can you make my hair longer?" a girl asks who has no scarf but just a short, light fluff on her head.

"Your hair is wonderful, little lady. I've rarely seen such a beautiful shaped head."

The girl giggles, but before she can object further, another child interjects with another question. "Is it true that you gave birth to a horse?"

Loki raises his index finger. "Ah, that's often said, but actually the story goes quite differently. Would you like me to tell you?"

"Yeees!"

"So listen well, little ones. This is the story of an adventure! Long ago, a wall was built around Asgard for protection. But the master builder, a Hrimthurse, deceived Odin and shortly before the completion of the wall he demanded the goddess Freya as his wife, as well as the moon and the sun. This was an outrage beyond comparison. My brother Thor and I hatched a plan to prevent this.

One night I kidnapped the Hrimthurse's horse, which was a very strategic move and allowed Thor to defeat him in battle. But, alas, I did not know that the horse was pregnant and it gave birth that night to Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse. I brought both animals home to the royal stable. The horses of the Hrimthurses are wild beasts, and very strong. But I managed to raise and tame Sleipnir. And when it was big enough, I gifted it to Odin, so that he could ride it to war."

You sat down on a chair near the wall, near the two nurses, who actually wanted to drink a coffee, but now - just like the children - listened spellbound to the narration. You also hang on to his every words.

Loki has truly earned his name silvertongue. He remains seated among the children and doesn't even use much gesticulation. He doesn't need to emphasize his story. His voice and words alone are perfectly sufficient for that.

You have heard some myths about the eight-legged horse Sleipnir, who is supposedly Loki's child. But it is something else to hear directly from him about what happened. He manages to make it seem as if you yourself were present at the ruse, when Loki conjured up mist in the middle of the night and crept in the darkness to the Hrimthurse's horse.

"Does that mean you can't turn into a horse at all?" one of the children asks curiously.

"Oh, I am absolutely able to do that." Loki's eyes flash mischievously at you and for a moment you're afraid he's really going to do that, as he demonstratively looks around. "However, I'm afraid it's a little too crowded here for a horse. You wouldn't want to be responsible for me knocking over all the furniture, would you?"

"No!" - "Yes!" resounds simultaneously from different mouths.

Fortunately, the nurses don't seem fazed and think it's all great fun.

"Tststs," Loki playfully scolds. "You little rascals." Suddenly he has a pair of dice in his hand, which he wills into the air and deftly catches again. "Have you ever heard of Loki’s Dice?"

"No."

"No? Well, let me tell you: it's a great game. And not just because I invented it. How about this: whoever beats me at it, gets a great prize. Who wants to try first?"

Several children's arms shoot up. Loki puts a finger to his lips and everyone is quiet as a mouse. He has this presence that grabs everyone’s attention.

He makes a show of making the dice disappear in his hands and reappear somewhere else. He'd be a really good sleight of hand magician. Along the way, he explains the rules, which are basically pretty simple. He even wrote a song about it, which he performs.

He has a wonderful singing voice. Like honey. And you feel like the fly that's caught with it. You could listen to him forever.

Loki throws the dice. The goal is to hit six. He throws a seven.

Loki throws the dice. All eyes are on the dice. He makes the bet disappear.

Loki rolls the dice. All sides show ones. He is the trickster.

It warms you to watch him. There's something very kind, but also a bit mischief about his interaction with the kids. They love it and he keeps them entertained and for a while makes them forget their pain, the various reasons they are here for. There is no trace of his arrogance or even the criminal that many see in him. You can get used to this Loki you're watching here. You wish to see this side of him much more often.

Hearing his rich laugh, seeing the twinkle in his eye just before he makes a great joke.

As indicated in the song, it's hard to beat him at his own game. Time and time again, the dice show a picture that shouldn't be on them at all. But one child after another finally makes it and Loki gifts each one of them a cube of their own afterwards.

"Do you dance?" a girl asks Loki afterwards. "Other heroes always dance when they visit us."

Loki's gaze darts to you briefly, noticing that you're watching him, amused but intrigued. He winks at you and it makes your heart leap. "I'm no hero, but I can show you a dance that is popular at feasts in Odin's halls," he says, turning to the girl. "But I need a partner for that." He holds out his hand to her and she jumps to her feet, giggling.

They begin with a bow to each other. Then they place their palms together and Loki softly hums the beat. They take a few steps in one direction, then he leads her into a turn and right back again. They are an uneven pair, the girl barely reaching Loki's waist, but she makes up for it with enthusiasm, swinging her feet with laughter.

Loki hands her his other hand and they dance a not-too-complicated pattern around each other. At one point the girl stumbles, but the Asgardian elegantly catches her and sets her back in her seat. He then bows to her.

"M'lady."

She giggles while another child holds up his arm.

"Me next."

Loki looks at the faces and puts his hands on his hips.

"For it to be a real party, everyone has to dance."

The children are immediately in it and scatter to their feet. Loki helps them form pairs and then shows them the steps again.

Shortly after, most of them are just jumping and laughing wildly, having great fun. Even the nurses are clapping along to a beat.

Loki appears at your side and before you can protest, he has grabbed your hand and pulled you among the dancers as well. Continuing to hold your hand, he places his right on your waist and leads you to the music of the laughing children. His eyes flash down at you in amusement.

This is not what you imagined for this day. Somehow it's much better.

Finally, the visit comes to an end. Loki takes his time saying goodbye, realizing the significance of what it means for the children to have to go back to their rooms and beds. He may also be intentionally delaying his departure a bit to keep them in the illusion of a normal, healthy day a little longer.

Nurse Chapel steps up beside you. "He's great," she comments quietly, glancing at the Asgardian.

You smile proudly, for you are happy for him. "Yeah."

"We have another boy here, Felix. He's fourteen and a big fan of Norse mythology. Unfortunately, he's too weak to leave his room. I know it wasn't part of the agreement, but do you think your Loki could pay him a quick visit?" She hesitates briefly while you still let the phrase 'your Loki' sink in. It sounds good. "It's not a sight for the faint-hearted," the head nurse then adds.

You blink and push the thoughts out of your head. "I'll talk to him," you promise her and she thanks you with a nod.

You go ahead and step out into the hallway. One of the SHIELD agents is sitting on a bench at the wall, looking up as you close the door. You spot the other standing at the end of the hallway.

"Are we done?" he asks you.

"Almost. How was it out here?"

"All quiet."

A few minutes later Loki comes out of the door, grinning and with his arms outstretched. He looks very pleased with himself and his gaze wanders to you.

“What do you think?" he asks you, "Did you enjoy the show?"

"You were great. I knew you would ace it." You beam at him and he seems satisfied with that answer. Then you bring up the head nurse’s request. "Nurse Chapel just asked me if you could visit another boy who is not allowed to leave his bed. Would you do that? If you rather go back home, that's totally fine and nobody wil-..."

"I'll do it," he interrupts you.

You smile at him. "That's very kind of you."

"Well, I am a generous god," he says cockily, but his tone is affectionately sarcastic.

You beckon Nurse Chapel to come over and share Loki's response with her. She gives him a grateful smile and leads the way. It's on another floor at the end of a hallway.

"If you could wait outside," she says, addressing you. "Too many people drain him."

"Of course." With a final pat on Loki's arm, he follows the head nurse inside while you and the two agents stay in the hallway. The door is just ajar and you hear the dark tone of Loki's voice. It's muffled and you can't make out any individual words. There is also a soft, steady beeping and something that sounds like a ventilator.

You think about stopping somewhere on the way home and grabbing food for everyone. They had earned it. It had been an extremely successful day. Loki has proven himself, you are very pleased with his performance. He seemed to have had fun as well, and you're already thinking about what project you might approach next. After today, your goal of having him join the Avengers team doesn't seem so unrealistic anymore. Maybe you should just tell him to think of them all as kids. Then maybe he'd get along with them better. The thought makes you chuckle.

Suddenly, you hear an alarm at the station and look up. You register that the soft, steady beeping has turned into a piercing sound. Several nurses and doctors come running up and into the room. The two agents have jumped up from their seats, but neither of you wants to stand in the way of a medic. Only when the way is clear do you rush into the room as well, ignoring Chapel's previous warning to wait outside.

In here, the sound is louder, almost ringing shrilly in your ears. There is only one bed in the room. You can't see the figure on it, because it's surrounded by doctors and nurses performing CPR. Loki is standing with his back against the wall, as if he had backed away. His face is pale - paler than usual - and horrified. He raises his head just as you enter and your eyes meet. In the next second, he vanishes.

Shit.

__________________________________

Tag List: @lokisgoodgirl @lokixryss @itsybitchylittlewitchy @yokshi-unbeliebubble @fictional-hooman @elennair @all-envy-suyu @purplekitten30 @elisadmaggiore @nothing2113 @baebeepeach @ceo-of-stfu @moonlightreader649 @ronipiamka @fluffybunnyu @ninjarose23

#loki x y/n #Loki x reader #loki layfeyson x you #loki laufesyon x reader #Loki x you #imagine loki #the witchling and the god #imagine marvel #mcu prompt #loki odison x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #loki fanfction #slow burn #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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zeldahime · 2 months

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Highway to Pail Day 24

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 24: The Middle Ages were called the Dark Ages because there were too many knights.

Wessex wasn't really that great a place to be fomenting, honestly, but after getting kicked out of Ireland after that whole debacle with Pádraig, he was in a bit of a pickle. He needed some results and fast, preferably kind of close to Ireland so he could tell Hell he was working on figuring out the "no snakes or demons allowed" thing but far enough away that they didn't expect him to do something stupid like storm Rí Laighín. And King Arthur was doing half his work for him, annexing kingdoms left right and centre and leaving disillusioned and dispossessed sons of nobility in his wake. Whole island of out-of-work knights, just needing some direction.

He took up as The Black Knight mostly because there were already a few Black Knights out there making trouble and he could recruit them and pretend it was all his idea. Before the year was out, there were fifteen Black Knights under him, popping up to harry the Pricks of the Round Table whenever they bothered leaving their pretty little walled city of Camelot. It worked out pretty well for everybody. Crowley miraculously kept the knights and their squires and servants fed and watered and sheltered, the knights were organized so they mostly hit pricks who really deserved it (a twofer for Crowley: making the rich feel pain so they curse God and making a life of crime and sin appealing by smoothing off the rough edges), and relatively few farmers or whatnot got caught in the middle and could be tempted with something else later.

And then Sir Aziraphale showed up, and Crowley realized that any souls he'd secured for Hell had probably been counterbalanced by the angel's securing souls for Heaven. Just lucky they hadn't met at the points of each other's swords, and wasn't that a sobering thought. He didn't even like carrying a sword, mostly had a human do it rather than touch the blasted thing himself. He certainly didn't want to do a replay of the War nearly 5,000 years later with someone he actually pretty well liked and respected. And he definitely didn't want to do it soggy, foggy, damned damp old Wessex.

And it wasn't even like they were having fun, like they did sometimes; their jobs weren't all bad, but they were still jobs. Crowley wasn't exactly a fan of sleeping in fields, and neither was Aziraphale. Crowley might be good at logistics and politics and could wrangle a group of rich angry fratboys and their households, but that didn't mean this was his idea of a good time, and he knew Aziraphale hated the kind of court politicking, child-rearing assignment he was probably on right now. He'd probably volunteered to go hunt The Black Knight just to get away from some wailing kid for five whole minutes.

Really, it would be in their best interest if they called it even and went and took a holiday in Vichèi or something instead. Anything would be better than setting up a tent in yet another sodding field.

But, well. The angel had gone and called him the wrong name, and he'd gone and offended the angel's sense of propriety, and look where they'd landed. Camping in another bloody field, the both of them, and not even the same one. If Crowley'd played it better, maybe they'd at least be trading work gossip and tips on where to find decent lager now that the Romans had gone and taken all their wine with them. But nope: instead he had to babysit some Medieval frat boys, not that any of them would know what the Heaven he was talking about if he called them that, and try to convince them not to launch an attack on Sir Aziraphale in the morning on the strength of "because I said so." Yippee.

Crowley really did not like fomenting. Or Wessex.

#my writing #highway to pail #do it with style events #good omens fanfiction #good omens #crowley good omens #good omens 537AD #good omens 537 AD

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jasontoddiefor · 1 year

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okay so, i realize that's probably not your current fandom, but i'm (once again) in a pjo content binge and i when i checked your pjo tags (Trading Tomorrow fan here) the first post was "no mist au". Which sounds really, really awesome. would you be willing to share some ideas about it or something?

I am always willing to talk about my AUs!!! And I'm glad you like Trading Tomorrow! That fic is still very dear to me!

Right, as the name says, the "no mist AU" is essentially an AU where the mist ceases existing when Percy is still like toddler age and the world is thrown into chaos. We end in some sorta post apocalyptic state where we see the return of the old worship mixed with new ways because demigods are still pretty much the only ones who can kill monsters. But now, well, normal people are praying to the gods as well again.

Some plot points include

Sally taking Percy and running and establishing herself as a person who knows what's up, and more than that, has a kid. She ends running a city alongside the coast as Poseidon's priestess.

The Roman Empire makes a return. Ne Rome adapts quickly to these new circumstances and they do it really well, expanding territory. Thalia and Jason both grow up in New Rome!

On that note, there is kind of a constant power struggle going on between various territories and gods and Kronos is also Awake And Having Some Thoughts

Camp Halfblood is the other big player. I'm not sure which name it'll get but it'll definitely will be renamed. I like New Alexandria (as opposed to New Athen as I've seen in a couple fics) because of Alexander the Great kicking off the Hellenism (just bear with this phrasing I know that's not how history works) and PJO seeming to rely more on late stages of ancient greek history.

But here are plenty of other bigger settlements with their own leader, goals and protections. Though being a demigod guarantees having kind of a higher status in society and people that are/would have been born clear-sighted have a sort of sense for when monsters are near, opposed to normal people.

But yeah, mostly this is post apocalypse meets ancient greek civilization?

And Sally doing everything she can to keep her kid safe and being very badass in turn.

Uuuh take a snippet?

Sally had devoured entire volumes about Greek mythology and the gods’ worship during her pregnancy. She’d never breathed a word of it to Percy, choosing ignorance as protection, but in their changed world, her knowledge needn’t be summoned. It was already there.

“Does anyone have sweets on them or alcohol?” Sally asked.

The people in her group only stared at her in confusion, some even in mistrust.

“It’s important.”

“What are you doing?”

“Prayer,” Sally said. She hadn’t ever been religious, meeting Poseidon hadn’t changed that. But could this really still be religion if she knew it to be truth?

Sally tossed the chocolate bar and the vodka from the flask into the fire.

“To our Lord Poseidon, for protection and safety of this commune.”

Actually take two snippets:

Leo does not like to admit that they might be in trouble, but he’s so nervous he can’t think of a weapon to aid him, never mind focus on making any fire. He glances to the right where Bryce’s body was already cooling, and nearly threw up. The scorpion’s sting had ripped right through his stomach, leaving behind an ugly, revolting wound. Luke is still holding onto his sword, but he can’t even stand properly, never mind fight.

The realization that they are utterly fucked hits like a brick to the face.

He’s survived the end of the world, myth becoming reality and this is what kills him: a regular patrol in an area that should be free of monsters. Leo hadn’t even been scheduled to go on this patrol, only volunteered at the last minute. He’d hoped to impress Luke, maybe see if he could secure permission to move outside the safe perimeters to get more parts to work with.

How stupid, not even their base is truly safe.

With an ugly roar, the scorpion turns around, aiming straight for Leo. Behind it, Luke struggles to get on his feet.

That’s it, Leo’s done for.

He tries to smile so Luke won’t blame himself and maybe do the smart thing and get away. Optimistic last thoughts so that Leo can rest peacefully in the underworld, having died a hero’s death. Phrased like this, dying doesn’t even sound that horrible.

The thought does not make the scorpion look any less terrifying and just when Leo decided to scream, he is cut off.

“Hold this for me.”

Instinctually, Leo holds out his arms and a bag gets dropped into them. The bag is warm and soft and has bright green eyes and oh, gods, that’s a baby.

Leo looks up and there’s a blur of black and blue standing in front of him. His brain is a bit slow on the upkeep, still reeling with the realization that he is holding a baby, and in the seconds it takes him to realize a stranger had come to their aid, the man has already drawn his blade. It’s made from pure celestial bronze, which is enough to make Leo’s jaw go slack. He’s only seen pure celestial bronze or imperial gold only a handful of times. The metals are incredibly scarce and Leo wants to touch that sword right now.

But he can’t.

Because he’s holding a baby and the sword is in its wielder’s hand, who is using it to systematically decimate the scorpion without ever breaking a sweat.

The monster surges up on more time, and the man simply adjust his hold on the sword and drops low, piercing the beast from below.

And just like that, it’s over and the clearing is silent.

#percy jackson #leo valdez #sally jackson #luke castellan #pjo #no mist au #fanfic #ask #anon

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aikoiya · 3 months

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LoZ LU - Missing Links

Now, I like Jojo's interpretation very much, but there should technically be 4-5 more Links in the line-up.

I know that Four is supposed to also cover FSA & the same goes for Wind with ST, as well as Legend with ALBW & TFH, but it simply doesn't make any sort of chronological sense on either account.

FSA is confirmed to take place after TP & that debunks the Gerudo genocide theory entirely.

Which, I know it takes away a bit of the impact from the Arbiter's Grounds, but truth be told, it doesn't take away all of it. After all, there's no way that at least some of the Gerudo weren't held there. The reason being that I can almost guarantee that at least some of the Gerudo likely remained loyal to Ganondorf. As such, it's very likely that the Gerudo that were tortured & died there had been them. Ganondorf loyalists.

ST is already blatant.

And the Link of ALBW & TH should be an entirely new Link. In fact, I'm actually pretty freaking sure that Gramps is literally Legend. I mean, he has to be a Link, he can wield the Master Sword.

I guess that I'm just disappointed is all. I've at least seen some versions of Spirit, but I haven't really seen anything with FSA Link or ALBW/TH Link.

Though, I do wonder what his nickname would be. Quad? No, that's stupid. Tet's taken. Maybe Iver? Because IV is the Roman number for four? You know, that actually isn't terrible.

Same with ALBW & TH Link.

At the same time, I wonder why Jojo fused Wind & Spirit together to begin with. They very obviously aren't the same.

Something that I also don't see anyone playing with. Cadence of Hyrule. It'd actually give an explanation as to why Time had to be so young.

Because, think about it, CoH's Link was alive when OoT Gdorf was a kid. So, he should've still been alive during OoT, but we don't hear anything about him. (Obviously, because CoH isn't canon, but then neither is HW.)

My thoughts are, what if CoH's Link had died suddenly & unexpectedly, possibly even during the Hyrulean Civil War? If so, then destiny would've had to course correct big-time for there to even be a Link at the time of OoT.

In other words, Time might not have been the Link who was supposed to have to deal with Gdorf's shit, but he did because his predecessor had bitten it too early.

LoZ Linked Universe Masterlist

#loz #legend of zelda #linked universe #lu #four swords adventure #spirit tracks

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 10 months

Text

To Make a Heaven of Hell (3/?)

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Virgil meets (almost) everyone and learns a bit about the usual goings on at the Hellp Desk.

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| <- Previous | First | Next -> |

Chapter warnings: None I can think of

Notes:

I don't actually have a plan as for where this story is supposed to go, lol. Just a few plot points. we're trying our best with what we have right now, though I'm currently attempting to focus a little more on my Big Bang fic.

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"Yeah, sure, go ahead" Virgil answered, glancing around again, feeling a little more confident now. How was everyone he'd met so far so nice? Would they all be like that, once Lily introduced him?

"Awesome, so as you look around," Lily said, gesturing behind her, first to a pair of demons who seemed to be bickering over what looked like… a packet of girl scout cookies? "That's Bel - Beleth - and Greg, Bel is the tall one with wings, Greg is the red one."

Virgil nodded as he took them in, they were both very tall, but the one with wings - Bel - turned to look over when Lily spoke.

"Hey Lils, what's going on? I heard my name?" Bel said, Lily chucked.

"We've got a new kid," Lily answered, Bel's face seemed to light up as he glanced around and Virgil wasn't sure he'd ever be able to picture such a terrifyingly built demon looking so excited.

"Who? Can I meet them?"

"Hi," Virgil said, waving his fingers, "I think that's me. Have I- been adopted?"

"You sure have, darlin'" Judy said with a smile, "Don't worry, they do this with everyone."

"Oh… well okay, but you’ll be dealing with- me, I guess, I’ve been told i’m a handful," Virgil said. He found already liked the idea of this much better than going back to that door as Bel laughed.

"Great," Bel said, smiling, "I know Lily already introduced me, but I'm Bel, Lily's husband, general of eighty-five legions."

He proudly extended an extremely large hand for a handshake, just like Lily had.

"I’m Virgil," Virgil nodded after shaking his hand, man, he was strong, "Uh, single - I think - and General of emo makeup, stupid Tumblr posts at 3am and way too much coffee."

Bel barked out a laugh, “You’ll fit right in here, don’t even worry.”

"Okay, continuing the introductions, over there - in the shark onesie - is Sharkie, she/they pronouns for them,” Lily said, pointing to a short person who was, in fact, wearing a shark onesie. They were currently talking to another soul - who seemed unreasonably angry about the decor of the lobby, of all things, though when she was mentioned they looked over and offered an energetic wave, which Virgil returned with a little less enthusiasm.

“Over there at the back are Ruggy - trainee t-shirt - and Angel, the pink one, they’re girlfriends,” Lily said, pointing to a pair who stood close together behind the desk, the pink-skinned demon - Angel, Virgil thought that was a pretty ironic name, right? - nudged the woman she stood next to before shooting a beaming smile his way.

“Hii!” Angel called, “You a newbie?”

“Uh- yeah, I guess?” Virgil said, looking her over, “I like your hair, it’s cool.”

“Thank you! I like yours! We’re ombre buddies!” She gasped, her voice was bubbly and excitable and Virgil found themself smiling just from proximity, “He’s a cutie, Rugs, we’re keeping him.”

“I think Lily’s already got dibs,” Ruggy laughed, Angel pouted, “hey! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Who else… Dante’s at school, Penny’s spending the day in her paradise, you’ve already met Judy - the twins, where are the twins? Angel?” Lily called, “Do you know where the twins are?”

“Oh!” Angel said, “Remus was here a bit ago, xe said they had ‘something to discuss’ with Cthulu - I think you know what that means - and I think Roman’s helping to direct the play the high schoolers are putting on at The Theatre in a few weeks today! I doubt either of them will be back soon, though.”

“Darn, well it’s just us for now then,” Lily shrugged, “In that case, how’d you like a bit of orientation as to how things work down here, Virgil?”

“Okay - but uh-”

“Hey! You!” Someone yelled from behind him, Virgil turned arond with a start, eyes wide, to be faced with a soul who was more red in the face with anger than Virgil had ever seen - and he’d seen a lot of people angry.

“Me?” Virgil practically squeaked.

“Yeah, you,” He said, “You work here?”

“Not yet-” Virgil said, taking a deep breath and standing up to his full height - taller than this guy - he’d dealt with his fair share of angry people in his life, this was nothing, “But uh- I will be, I think?”

He glanced back at Lily, who was watching him with a worried expression.

“Hey! You’re talking to me,” The man snapped, clicking his fingers right next to Virgil’s ear.

“Hey dude, I don’t even work here,” Virgil told him, “Yet, I literally just got here-”

“I don’t care! There's been a mistake, clearly, because I’m here.”

“Okay, but-” Virgil started, before being interrupted again.

“I already told you I don’t care about you, I just need help.”

“Excuse me sir would you kindly stop bothering my new kid and talk to someone who is, you know, actually sitting behind and working at the desk,” Lily said, when Virgil looked back, she was twirling a knife around her fingers with a smile that - at face value - was a classic customer service smile, though Virgil thought they could pick out something a little more menacing behind it, “Now your options are to fuck off down to your level like a good boy, or, oh look! we just got the cheesegrater setting working on the trapdoor again! if you’d prefer to experience that instead!”

The man finally stopped talking for a second, though he seemed geared up to protest, before they heard a woosh and looked to the side, where the shark-person was now crouched on the desk, holding what looked like a real lightsaber, with an outright unhinged grin on their face that had Virgil doing a double take.

“Y’know uh-” The man said, looking between Sharkie and Lily with more fear than anger on his face now, “You uh- the stairs were which way again?”

“Good choice,” Lily said, tone stone cold as she placed the knife on the desk, “Stairs are that way, they’re labled.”

“...Woah,” Virgil said, as soon as the guy was out of earshot. Sharkie slumped.

“Damnit,” She said, “I really wanted to use the lightsaber today.”

“I’m sure you’ll get another chance later, Sharkie,” Lily waved them off, before turning back to him, “Are you okay? I didn’t expect him to go after you like that.”

“Oh yeah,” Virgil said, waving his hands, “I’m fine, that was - I’m used to stuff like that, I’m uh… more surprised that you guys stuck up for me…”

“‘Course we did, newbie,” Sharkie said, punching his arm as they hopped off of the desk, “You’re part of the team now right?”

Virgil nodded slowly, “I think so…”

“Yes, you are,” They said with a nod, “And that means we got your back, kay?”

“...okay,” Virgil said.

“Hey Sharkie,” Lily said, “We’ve got another soul incoming, you think you can show Virgil around the break room?”

“Sure mum!” Sharkie said, grinning, “C’mon, emo boy!”

—-

“Okay so this is the water cooler,” Sharkie said, “Ignore that noise, this is cool, right, because it has a ‘water to wine’ filter, so you can get wine from it if you want!”

Virgil’s attention was brought back to Sharkie as they demonstrated said feature, and he tried to ignore the screaming he could hear from beyond the door.

“Is that uh, normal?” Virgil asked quietly, gesturing with his themb back towards the Hellp Desk.

“Oh yeah,” Sharkie nodded, “We get at one that needs a smackdown at least once a week, it’s cathartic!”

Virgil nodded slowly, grimacing as he thought about it, “They are… actually bad people, right?”

“Well duh, this is hell,” Sharkie said, making a face, “Like, yeah there's the ones that are just here for therapy, but they’re not the shitty ones, and we don’t beat up the shitty ones.”

Humming in acknowledgement, Virgil felt himself relax a little, knowing that the people he’d just met weren’t… secretly just like everyone else he’d known in life.

“The guy getting torn to shreds out there is like, irredeemably shitty, I promise,” Sharkie said, clearly noting Virgil’s wariness around the solutions, “Like one of those dick billionaires or something.”

“We get to beat up dick billionaires down here?” Virgil gasped, snapped out of his worries, “Can I punch Elon?”

Sharkie snortied, “That’s the spirit! He’s not down here yet, but I’ll save ‘em for you!”

“Thanks, Sharkie,” Virgil said, allowing a smile to creep onto his face as they grinned.

“Okay okay, back to the tour, over here we have the sorta kitchen area, people leave snacks in here sometimes, if it’s not labelled it’s free game,” They told him, gesturing around the space, “Lily always keeps snacks in her desk too so if you need some just lemme know.”

“Won’t she get mad?” Virgil asked, glancing back at the door. They really didn’t want to get onto Lily’s bad side.

“Nah,” Sharkie waved a hand, “Not really, and I’ll cover for ya.”

“...If you say so,” Virgil said, smiling as Sharkie bounced around the space, explaining the excuses wall and the chuckleheads' wall of shame…

“So yeah, this is where we put the last soul who got laughed at by God.” Sharkie explained, gesturing to the picture currently plastered to the board - she looked like your typical Walmart Karen, “Oh, I think the screaming’s stopped, c’mon, lets go back out and Lily’ll show you how the desk works!”

Smiling fully now, Virgil followed Sharkie out of the breakroom and back into the lobby.

He might have woken up that morning in the mortal world, dreading the day ahead… But it sure had turned out to be an interesting day indeed.

—-

“Hello this is the Hellp desk, baring in mind I just got here and don’t know what I’m doing, how can I help… you?”

“Hey! You’re the new kid, right? Angel sent a text that I didn’t read-” Said the demon standing at the desk, whom Virgil was now staring at, slightly terrified.

“I’m so sorry sir- ma’am?” Virgil asked, face immediately going red, “I didn’t realise you weren’t-”

“Any terms are fine,” They said, “Any pronouns too, so, it’s cool, I’m Remus, nice to meet ya!”

Virgil hesitated to shake the demon’s hand, in part due to the fact that he was soaking wet and dripping water all over the floor and the desk, another part due to the fact that he stank of seafood. Eventually, he shook zer hand, very quickly, before pulling away and finding that it wasn’t water dripping from her hand, but some kind of slime.

“Don’t mind the gunk,” Remus waved them off when they opened their mouth, “I was just with Cthulu, kinda part of the deal, anyways, newbie, where is everyone? They leave you here by yourself?”

“No, no,” Virgil shook his head, “Lily, Bel and Judy went to the breakroom for a minute, something about a pie, um, Greg? I think. Said something about Level 9, and the um, the girlfriends? I don’t- names- they went off somewhere, I think I heard coffee? And I don’t know where Sharkie is.”

“Probably raiding someone’s snack drawer,” Remus waved him off, “Have ya met my brother yet?”

“I uh… don’t… think so?” Virgil said, narrowing his eyes, “Wait- are you one of the twins? I think the pink girlfriend mentioned a Remus…”

“Yup! That’s me! My bro’s Roman,” Remus nodded, “And if ya can’t remember then you haven’t met him trust me, you wouldn’t forget that guy, he makes it impossible.”

“Remus!” Someone yelled, “Get your sea gunk off my desk!”

“Oopsie!” Remus said, giggling as Lily strode over, “Gotta go! See you round, newbie!”

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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer

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| <- Previous | First | Next -> |

#sanders sides #hells belles au #virgil sanders #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #rowan writes #hells belles

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