#A Silencer For A Two-Timing Canary

[mudwerks]

"A Silencer For A Two-Timing Canary"

John Creighton, Stranglehold.

[batsandbirdbrains]

i was wondering if you could write some nonverbal Dick when he was little and the the Batfam finding out when he's older?

okay okay okay but like. I feel like he just would not speak at all as Dick Grayson. He's quiet as a mouse. He might shake or nod his head if he's asked a yes or no question, but otherwise, he just stares. His lips are almost in a permanent pout, but it's not even on purpose.

And Bruce has no idea what to do. He tries to do anything to make him smile, to show any positive emotion at all. Hell, Bruce would even rather have Dick crying than him just being totally silent.

Then Robin is born, and his laughter bounces off the walls of the cave, "It's the Batcave, Bruce!" and Bruce feels his heart skip a beat. It's the first thing Dick has said to him in the two months since he came to live at the manor.

Dick's eyes are sparkling and his smile is wide and he's grinning at Bruce, rocking on his toes, giggling every few breaths. And Bruce's heart swells, and he scoops Dick up and twirls him around, squeezing him tight when Dick lets out a shriek of a laugh.

"The Batcave," Bruce tells him once they've both calmed down. "I like it."

And thus, all the bat-themed names are born. Batcave, Batmobile, Batarang, Batcomputer, and an endless list of bat-names. Bruce will call anything bat-themed if it gets Dick to say something.

Robin is chatty. At least, when he's with Batman. He talks a mile a minute, he has an opinion on everything, he makes puns so bad that Batman can't help but laugh. Criminals think he's a terror, and they groan every time they hear Robin's laughter echoing around them.

But Dick Grayson still barely speaks a word even a couple years after Bruce took him in. And when they're back at the Batcave, Dick Grayson peeks through Robin's mask more often than not. Robin is chatty when they're out, but not when they're home, and not when Batman brings him to meet a newly formed Justice League.

A ten-year-old Robin stands close to Batman, half-hidden beneath Batman's cape, staring at the gaggle of heroes meandering about the room. He looks up at Batman, his lips falling into their usual pout, and Batman just shakes his head.

"I know," he says softly to Robin. "We'll go home soon. Promise."

Robin tilts his head, his fingers twitching as he holds the edge of the cape.

"Well, maybe not as soon as you'd like," Batman says with a sigh.

Robin looks back towards the heroes, and some of them are making their way over to them now. Robin tenses up, and Batman places a hand on on his shoulder to help him relax.

"Robin!" Green Lantern greets, a huge grin on his face. "I've been wanting to meet Spooky's sidekick!"

Robin stays silent, but his gaze hardens. He doesn't look away from Green Lantern, and Hal starts to sweat.

"Uh, Spooky?" Hal says with a nervous laugh. "What's up with the kid?"

"He doesn't like your nickname for me," Batman says, his voice even. Robin looks up at Batman, and the two of them look at each other before Batman turns back to Hal. "He thinks it's unoriginal." There's a tug at his cape. "And boring."

"Oh," Hal stutters, and when Barry laughs behind him, he turns and swats at his shoulder. "Well then. Alright. Good talk. Oh would look at that, I think Oliver is calling me, see you later!"

He hurries over to the other side of the room, nowhere near way Green Arrow is standing with Black Canary and Wonder Woman. Barry stays though, and he holds a hand out for Robin to shake. Robin stares at it a moment, then shakes Barry's hand.

"Firm grip," Barry tells him, a grin on his face. "You must be pretty strong if you're able to keep up with Bats."

A hesitant smile spreads across Robin's face, but he doesn't say anything. Barry doesn't seem to mind, filling the silence easily. It reminds him a bit of his conversations with Batman, actually.

Superman isn't there the first time Robin is introduced to the Justice League, having to stay behind in Metropolis due to an issue with Lex. But pretty much everyone in the League realizes that Robin doesn't talk, at least not to them.

So imagine their surprise when Robin accompanies Batman to the Watchtower the next month, and Robin lights up once he enters the meeting room where everyone is gathered.

"Superman!" Robin gasps, letting go of Batman's cape to run at Superman. He stops in front of him, a grin on his face as Superman just laughs.

"Hello, Robin," Clark greets. "I've heard a lot about you!"

"All good, I hope," Robin teases, leaning into Clark's personal bubble. Clark doesn't seem to mind.

The rest of the conversation is more so on Clark's part, Robin's responses short, mostly just nodding, but his face is full of joy, and Batman is watching in awe. Diana is standing next to him, a gentle hand on his arm.

"This is the most he's spoken all week," Batman says softly.

Diana just smiles at him, patting his arm, unsure of exactly what to say. They still don't know much about Batman and Robin's lives outside of the masks, but she thinks maybe this will help them both to open up a little more.

And it is the start of them opening up more, because sure enough, Dick slowly starts speaking more as both Robin and even as Dick Grayson. Eventually, most people forget that Dick Grayson barely spoke at all, because soon enough he does a total 180, and he's so chatty that the world around him simply forgets.

But even as an adult, he has times when he simply reverts back to not wanting to speak. It's exhausting, having to speak so much sometimes. It's a defense mechanism, staying silent. It's comfortable.

He tries not to do it around anyone but Bruce, because he's the only one who ever knew exactly what he was trying to say, even when he didn't want to say anything at all.

But there's one day when he just can't bring himself to talk. He's so tired. It's been nonstop work, both in and out of the mask, and he can't gather up the energy. He's still only half-healed from his last mission, he's physically and mentally exhausted, and he doesn't want to be the one to fill the silence. So he just doesn't.

And it freaks the entire rest of the family out.

"Big Bird?" Jason asks after a a full hour of Dick sitting silently in the manor. The rest of the siblings are watching from the doorway of the room, Jason having drawn the short straw to be the one to ask him what's wrong. "Did you get hit with a spell or something?"

Dick just turns to him, his brow furrowing, his head tilting. He's curled up on his favorite couch, a TV show he's watching a million times playing in the background.

Dick just shakes his head, then rests his head back on his pillow and goes back to staring blankly at the screen.

"Are you sick?" Jason prods. "Do you have, like, strep throat or something?"

Dick's head just barely shakes, and he pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. It's a clear sign to leave him alone.

It's Tim who ends up pulling Bruce into the room, insisting that something is wrong with Dick, that he needs to be brought into the Batcave, that they need to do some tests on him because he's acting weird and no one knows why.

Bruce kneels in front of the couch, blocking Dick's view of the TV, and Dick frowns at him.

"Hey, chum," Bruce says softly. "What's up?"

Dick moves one hand out from where it was tucked under his chin to give him a little wave, but doesn't say anything. Bruce just smiles at him, tugging the hood down a little further over Dick's eyes and grinning when Dick smiles and swats Bruce's hand away to push the hood back.

"Sorry for bothering you," Bruce tells him. "Do you want me to bring you anything?"

Dick looks at him for a moment before pushing the side of his head further into the pillow, and his nose twitches a bit.

"Tea? With milk?"

Dick smiles at him. Bruce smiles back and pats his head.

"I'll be right back," Bruce says, and he gets up to go make Dick a cup of tea. It's late in the day though - he'll have to make sure it's decaf. It's not a patrol night for Nightwing.

"What the fuck was that?" Jason questions him as he leaves the room.

"He's just in a quiet mood today, is all," Bruce tells them.

"And you were just gonna play twenty questions until you could figure out what he wanted?" Tim asks.

"No, he clearly wanted tea," Bruce says, looking at them all like it was obvious.

"How is that clear?"

"It just...was," Bruce tells them. "I just know what he wants. I'm used to him not speaking."

"And how are you used to him not speaking? He never shuts up!"

Bruce actually laughs, and he moves into the kitchen to start making Dick a cup of tea.

"What? What's funny about that?"

"He hardly spoke the first two years I knew him," Bruce says through his laughter. "Never shuts up, that's funny. It used to be like pulling teeth to get him to say a single word."

Everyone else is totally baffled, they can't wrap their heads around it. Meanwhile, Bruce just finishes up making Dick's tea and goes to leave it on the coffee table in front of him, patting Dick's head again before he leaves the room.

"Leave him be," Bruce tells his other children. "He's tired. You can bother him once he's feeling chatty again."

[timmydraker]

On a seemingly random Tuesday night, a few members of the Bat Family are free to spend dinner at the manner.

Jason was benched by his fellow Outlaws for a nasty hit to his chest and got tired of Biz’s worrying even if it was appreciated at first.

Dick had been taking a small break after a particularly bad case with work that involved some hurt children and wanted to be back home.

Damian had only ever made threats to move about but the newley eighteen year old was still at home.

Tim had been using his free time while Kon and Cassie visited their families to visit his own while Bart and Barry dragged Wally on a bonding trip. The poor West boy had to miss out a concert of some sort.

Stephanie, Duke and Cass were all busy with a case and had pleaded with Bruce to take some time off because he was, quote, “Broodier than Hamlet”. He eventually relented when Barbie and Kate promised to keep an eye on them.

The group had decided to watch a movie instead of playing games, mainly because not games were banned, and settled on something that Tim paid no mind to.

The problem came that it was cold out and everyone insisted on having the fire as hot as it could go, but Tim naturally ran hot. Jason and Damian tended to get the coldest and while only Jason would complain, Damian could and would set anything he wanted on fire to get warm.

So, Tim didn’t complain and just said he was going to get changed.

He spent at least half an hour on one of the arm chairs by himself with his tablet playing RuneScape, when Dick inhaled so quickly everyone heard it.

Tim assumed it was something to do with the movie and didn’t turn, tapping away at his screen, completely ignorant to Dick’s quickly forming tears.

It was when Bruce also made a noise, this time a poorly pronounced ‘oh’ that he turned around, assuming it had to be a truely grand thing for Bruce to react so openly in the movie.

Instead he finds his foster father and brothers staring at him.

More specifically, his thighs.

Tim hadn’t realised his shorts would ride up and stop covering him to just above his knee and show the hundreds of scars littered over the outside and inside of his pale skin. They were mostly faded, but with the width of some of them they were always going to be visible, especially with the sheer amount.

Pulling his pant leg down, Tim doesn’t bother to hide a sympathetic wince and says, “Sorry, didn’t meant to show them. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

He looks away again, assuming that was that and trying to remind himself that it wasn’t his fault that people were upset by his scars, just like Black Canary told him.

Instead he hears a sob and turns back to find Bruce holding Dicks hand as his oldest brother sobs into his hand. He sees that Jason is seemingly fighting to not match him even with his wide eyes and Damian is staring at him with confusion.

Realisation finds Tim quickly, which makes sense considering he’s supposed to be the ‘smart Robin’.

“You didn’t know…”

Dick stands up, dropping Bruce’s hand and comes to kneel before Tim, holding onto his own hands like some kind of follower to a god, “Why? I- I don’t- why?”

The desperation in his voice makes Tim feel sick, and he looks around at the others for help because surely he had talked to at least one of them about it? He had been open with his friends, and he hadn’t exactly kept it a secret, but he did avoid showing them…

Tim moves to hold onto Dick in return, “I’m sorry, I thought you guys knew-… okay, look, I’ve got a two year clean streak and I’m in therapy, okay? I’m so sorry Dick, I just assumed you knew cause I use the shower in the cave with you guys and… I’m so sorry.”

There’s a silence for a moment as Dick drags him into his arms and squeezes him as tightly as he can, not even being careful like he usually would.

“I don’t understand.”

Damian’s voice sounds uncharacteristic in how small it is. He’s staring at Tim’s legs like he might be able to catch a glimpse of the scars in genuine confusion.

Bruce seemingly can’t speak and so Jason tries his best to explain to the youngest Wayne boy, “Look, bra-kid, some times when people aren’t doing to well they… they hurt themselves. Tim…”

Giving his brother a smile, Tim takes over as tears finally break away from Jason. Jason was always the most emotional and that’s evident in how he actually lets Bruce pull him into a side hug.

“Dami, you know how my parents kind of sucked?”

Damian makes a scoff noise, “I know they were incompetent, yes.”

Smiling, Tim continues as his eyes grow wet with the sound of his families cries, “Well, I really wanted to good for them but they had impossible standards. When I found I couldn’t reach them, I decided I needed punishment. So…” he takes a deep inhale and moves a hand to Dick’s head to comfort him as he finishes. “I started to cut myself.”

Damian doesn’t get wide eyes or anything, and Tim thinks it’s so much worse that there’s an image understanding in his little brothers eyes that show he sees that as completely logical.

But it is quickly overcome, his first thought always what he was raised with and quickly followed by the ideals he’s learnt and now values. He doesn’t cry either, but he does have a look of a pure heart break in his sweet little eyes.

Bruce finally comes over and pulls his two sons into a hug, adjusting to fit Jason in and saying nothing as Damian comes up behind Tim and leans his head against the others back.

Bruce asks other a few minutes of holding each other, “You said you haven’t for two years?”

Tim smiles once again and presses a kiss to his dad’s cheek. “Yeah. I learnt that family, real family like ours, would never want physical punishment, especially for something we can’t control. That’s not how loving people work.”

Damian moves to wrap his arms around Tim in their first ever hug and by all gods and mighty beings is Tim glad he stuck around.

Hugs from his family was well worth it.

[blackleatherjacketz]

My Favorite Spot

Andrew "Pope" Cody x Female Reader

Pope visits you after he gets out of prison...

Warnings: 18+ Only!, NSFW, Explicit Smut, Kissing, Taunting, Teasing, Jealousy, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Female Orgasm, Face Grabbing, Eye Contact, The Pope Stare

Tags: @likedovesinthewnd @elenacarey

“Ooh, there it is. My favorite spot.” He pushed his fingers in deeper, his breath ghosting over your lips as he watched your face contort in sheer bliss. “You think I wouldn’t find it again?” He curled his digits upward, slowly pressing against that bundle of nerves in a dizzying rhythmic motion, dragging his calloused fingertips over your sweet spot again and again. “You know I always do.”

“Pope, I…” you muttered, digging your fingernails into his back as his magic fingers stole the breath from your lungs.

“How many tried to find it while I was locked up, huh?” His hazel gaze darkened with a scalding intensity, scanning your features for any sign of deception as you stood there in stunned silence. “Two? Three?” He slipped a third finger in and pushed them all the way up to his knuckles, grinning like the cat who ate the canary as he stretched you out.

“Just one!” You gasped as he backed you up against the wall in the process, your juices now dripping down the back of his hand as he continued to work on you.

“Just one, huh?” He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it up and down with a perfect amount of pressure with each deliberate thrust of his wrist. “And did he find it?”

“No.” You answered almost immediately, the word coming out in a low groan as the friction of his fingers sent hypnotic pulses of tingling heat into your viscera. No one knew the delicious details of your body quite like Pope, and you’re pretty sure he was counting on that while he was away for so long. “No!”

“You sure?” He teased, grabbing your chin with his free hand to hold you in place, forcing your lips to purse as he brought you closer to complete and utter incineration. “Because it feels like you’re about to come right now.” He ran his thumb across your bottom lip as he increased his pace between your folds, the sound of his fingers delving into your slick echoing in the empty hallway as you tried to stifle your moans. “Am I right? You gonna let go for me?”

“Mmm hmm.” You nodded within the confines of his grasp as your eyes flutter shut, that last brush of his thumb against your swollen bud tipping over the can of gasoline and lighting your entire body on fire. Those three long years without his touch made your velvety walls spasm with a euphoric urgency that you couldn’t predict, sucking him in and clamping down as if your body couldn’t tolerate the idea of another three years without him.

“Uh-uh,” he scolded. “Open your eyes. Look at me when you come.” He tightened his grip on your face until you did as you were told, taking in his smug expression as the burning bliss licked its way up your spine, practically melting your insides around him.

“Oh my… oh my God, Pope!” You cried.

“That’s it. That’s what I missed.” He kissed your lips with a desperate fervor you’d never felt before, the longing flavoring his tongue with a new sort of sweetness as it hungrily brushed against yours. He breathed you in as you continued convulsing around his fingers, inhaling your very life force as he greedily explored your mouth; making sure everything was just as he remembered it.

He reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your soaking wet cunt, dragging them up your overstimulated clit before bringing them up to his lips, breaking your kiss. He stared at you as he shoved all three fingers into his mouth, eyes holding you fast as he savored the tangy flavor of your orgasm. A low groan brewed deep within his chest as he tasted you for the first time in years, his spit mixing with your slick as it spilled out the sides of his mouth before he shoved them into yours.

“Now take off your clothes and let me really stretch you out.”

[universefcb]

could u do a long fic for pedri please? where reader is friends with ferran and he thinks they’d be perfect for each other and invites them to a group dinner or party or something and they just talk the full night even after everyone leaves, and he gives her a ride home. just a lot of fluff

BY YOUR SIDE

→ Pairing: Pedri X fem!reader

→ Warning: Mention of reader.

→ Author's note: Sorry for the horrible writing, I didn't write to him in time.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

Ferran has always had a natural talent for being the link between different worlds. A charismatic player, a caring friend, and—lately—a wannabe cupid. He had been telling her this story for weeks, talking about it with an excitement that bordered on obsession. “Seriously, you two have the same energy. You’re going to get along so well,” he would say almost every time he spoke to her.

She, in turn, laughed, looked away, changed the subject. I knew him well enough to know that once he got an idea into his head, it was hard to get him to let it go. And not that the idea was bad. She just... didn't know what to expect. I knew Pedri by sight, from social media, from Ferran and Gavi's sporadic comments. But knowing someone through the eyes of others was very different from sharing the same table.

It was on an early summer evening that Ferran finally carried out his plan. An unpretentious dinner, as he had promised, no formalities. Just friends, low music, white wine in the fridge and laughter echoing across the balcony of his apartment.

She arrived a little late, just enough for the conversation to already be flowing. She knew most of the people there, so she had no trouble fitting in. And then she saw him—sitting relaxed on the couch, a glass in his hand, a blue linen shirt with the first few buttons open. Pedri.

He smiled when he saw her, and she smiled back. Ferran, of course, made sure to introduce them officially, even though it wasn't necessary.

"So you're the famous one," Pedri said, in a light tone, as if he was laughing inside. "Ferran talks about you as if you were a mystical entity."

She laughed.

"And you're the Canary Islands prodigy, then? I hear you have more game vision than many film directors."

He pretended to ponder, the glass turning between his fingers.

"I don't know if that's a compliment or disguised pressure."

"It's both."

The conversation began like this. A comment here, another there, and soon she found herself being pulled closer to him without realizing it. As the hours passed, the party continued its rhythm. The group laughed loudly, played rounds of some improvised game with cards and challenges, while, little by little, the two began to move away, physically and in conversation.

They ended up sitting on the porch, side by side, with their feet resting on the railing. The night was warm, and the city had that electric summer air—distant lights, distant voices, the muffled sound of cars. The bottle of wine they had picked up was already half empty, and she discovered that Pedri had surprisingly good taste in music. They shared headphones, one in each ear, passing the phone back and forth to choose the next track.

"You seem calmer than I imagined," she commented, between sips.

"And you seem harder to read than Ferran led me to think," he replied, looking straight at her.

There was something in his gaze. It wasn't provocative, or bold. It was just... attentive. Present. As if he was listening to even what she wasn't saying.

She looked away, a little embarrassed by how much it affected her.

"He exaggerates. He always exaggerates."

"Good thing," Pedri said, smirking. "Because it was his exaggeration that brought you here."

For a moment, silence fell between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was a necessary break, like a breather between two songs.

Inside the apartment, the voices were fading. One by one, the friends began to say goodbye, some too drunk, others with early commitments. Ferran came over to them before disappearing into the bedroom with Gavi, waving with a smile that said I told you so.

When they realized, it was just the two of them. And the city down there.

"It's almost three in the morning," she muttered, picking up her phone to check. "I didn't even notice the time passing."

"Not me either," he replied, looking genuinely surprised.

She lowered her feet from the parapet and stood there, with her elbows resting on her knees, looking at her hands. He, at her side, watched her.

"I can take you home if you want," he offered, in a tone that mixed kindness and a desire to prolong the encounter.

"Don't worry, I'll get a car..."

"It wouldn't be a bother. And honestly? I want to."

She hesitated for a second. But there was something in the way he spoke—direct, simple, straightforward—that made her nod.

The drive to her building was calm. She realized she liked the silence with him, the kind that didn't demand anything, that didn't pressure. When he parked, there was no rush. They stayed in the car for a few more minutes, with the headlights off and the street bathed in streetlights.

"Ferran was right," he said, his voice lower, almost a whisper. "We really do have something in common."

She frowned, confused.

"We see the best in people. Even when they themselves can't."

She didn't know what to say. And she didn't need to. He didn't say anything else, just looked at her for a second too long. A second that hung in the air, as if time hesitated to move on.

"Thank you for the night," she said finally, reluctantly opening the door.

"We'll see each other again, right?"

She smiled.

"That depends on Ferran."

"What if I don't want to wait for him?"

She held back her smile, bit her lip, and just nodded before getting out of the car. But before entering the building, she turned back and saw that he was still there, looking in her direction.

Over the next few days, his name began to appear with suspicious frequency in her notifications. First a message on Instagram — a story replied with a silly comment about the song. Then, some photo she posted that got a bonfire emoji. And then came the first 'shall we repeat that conversation that was left half-finished?

She knew exactly which one. The part where he almost asked something he didn't have the courage to say. The part that hung in the air, between a sip of wine and the muffled sound of the city.

The second time they saw each other, it was without Ferran around.

She was leaving work when she received the message:

Pedri: “I’m passing by your neighborhood. If you say you’d like a coffee, I’ll go around the corner.”

She: “It’s already turning, right?”

Pedri: “Since yesterday.”

They met in a small café, with yellow light and the smell of freshly baked bread. They sat across from each other, and he took off his sunglasses when she arrived—something about the gesture made her stomach clench for a second. It was almost too intimate.

"You're more serious today," she said, after some small talk.

"I'm trying to figure out if you really want to see me or if you're just being polite."

She arched an eyebrow.

"What if it's a little bit of both?"

He gave a crooked smile, the kind that appears before the mouth even moves.

"At least she's honest."

"Always."

The coffee lasted an hour and a half. He listened to her talk about a project she was developing, asked details, and asked questions that she herself had never thought of. He told her about a book she was trying to finish and that she always stopped at the same chapter. She scoffed, saying that this was typical of people who don't know how to deal with endings. He replied that maybe it was just a lack of courage to continue when things get too good.

The third time was in the middle of the week, an ordinary night. He sent a short message:

'If you say you want to go out and wander aimlessly, I'll go out now.'

Half an hour later, they were walking through the nearly empty streets of the Gothic Quarter, their sneakers clicking softly on the stone floor. They passed shuttered shop windows, graffiti-covered walls, and cats crossing alleys. The conversation was slow, sometimes light, sometimes silent. But never empty.

They sat on a park bench, sharing a bottle of water and a chocolate bar he had in the car. They were so close that their shoulders were lightly touching. And once again, he looked at her in that way that seemed to be discovering secrets, without asking permission.

"I'm not used to this," he said, not looking away.

"With what?"

"With someone who doesn't try to impress me all the time."

She laughed, finding it funny and sad in equal measure.

"Maybe I just don't think you need to be impressed."

"You're the only one who thinks so."

And it stayed in her, vibrating like a sustained note.

...

Ferran noticed. Of course he would notice.

"I just wanted to say, I told you so," he said in a quick connection after seeing the two of them walking into some restaurant together in a random photo.

She snorted, rolling her eyes, but the smile escaped anyway.

"You should become a dating consultant, maybe."

"If you get married, I demand to be the best man."

She didn't answer. But the truth was, she had already thought about it. Not about marriage. But about how he seemed to... fit.

The night that changed everything was the least planned of all.

They were at her house, on a normal Friday. Pedri had stopped by the market and brought a bottle of white wine, a frozen pizza and two movies that he swore she needed to see. They started in the living room, but ended up sitting on the floor, with their backs against the couch, laughing at small and unimportant things.

"Did you know I like you better when you're quiet?" he said suddenly, his face turned towards her.

"Is that a compliment?"

"Yeah. You talk to the silence too. And I understand."

She felt the air change. As if the atmosphere in the room had become denser, warmer. His gaze was steady. And she didn't know if she wanted to look away.

"Sometimes I'm afraid," she said quietly, "of giving myself over to something that might fall apart. It's happened before."

He nodded, with a calm that only those who carry the same fear recognize.

"Me too. But I'm here. Even though I'm scared."

And just like that, without warning, he approached. Slowly, as if asking with his eyes. And when their faces were inches apart, she closed her eyes. He didn't kiss her right away. He waited. He breathed too close. And then he pressed his lips to hers with a delicacy that almost hurt.

It was a kiss that asked for nothing, it only offered.

A kiss that said I'm here, are you here too?

When they pulled away, her eyes were

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[hellothereobiwankenobi]

yellow ribbon on the door | chapter three

⟢ summary: You are questioning the dynamic between you and Joel, when he suddenly shows up to the flower shop. Again.

⟢ pairing: joel miller x afab!reader (femme but not descriptive as to actual features)

⟢ wc: 2.7k

⟢ tags: no outbreak au, flower shop au, angst, idiots in love, small age gap ( joel is 35 and reader is 29 about to be 30), trauma related to the loss of a love one, operation desert storm mentioned, reader is a single mother to ellie, no beta reader we die like men

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Joel lets Tommy get him obscenely drunk that night. He had accepted the pounding headache he would have the following morning as his penance for how he had treated you. Every sharp look, every clipped response, everytime he had denied your kindness ran through his head like a movie. Joel had been cruel to you in an effort to disguise the emotions he had been trying to repress since your first meeting. The shame and anger he had for himself as he developed feelings for his younger brother’s girlfriend being projected onto you.

But if you weren’t really Tommy’s girlfriend… Joel was just a dick.

The two stay until closing and stumble down the two streets to the elder's house. By the time they enter the home, Sarah has been asleep for hours. Both brothers struggle up the stairs and separate into their respective bedrooms. Tommy in the guest room, and Joel in the master.

Joel tosses and turns until sunrise. Every time he closes his eyes, his tortured mind finally allowing him to find sleep, he sees snapshots of your brokenhearted expression from that morning. He screwed up, and he knew it.

Joel wakes with a start at a loud banging on his door.

“Alarm!” Sarah shouts through the thin barrier separating the bedroom from the hallway. Joel turns his head and sees the digital clock on his nightstand reads 6:30 AM. He slams a fist down on the snooze button, silencing the screeching alarm, and buries his face back into the pillows.

Joel can smell bacon sizzling on the stove as he eventually makes his way downstairs. He squints, trying to block out the golden morning light flooding in from the kitchen window.

Tommy alternates his attention between two frying pans before him, cheerfully pushing around bacon and eggs in each “Mornin’, sunshine.”

Joel can only grunt as he opens the cabinet housing his assorted collection of coffee mugs. His fingers wrap around the ceramic handle of a canary-colored one, and he brings it to rest on the counter. Joel fills his mug from the freshly brewed coffee pot. He can’t understand how Tommy could be so chipper after the night they had, and so few hours of sleep.

“You’re all outta pancake mix. Was lookin’ forward to havin’ a stack this morning.” Tommy takes three plates from the cabinet and sets them on the circular dining table opposite the kitchen.

“You can always sleep at your own place next time.” Joel glares at his brother half-heartedly, bringing the mug to his lips. He savors that first sip as if it could make everything from the last twenty-four hours better.

“And miss the look on that beautiful face first thing in the mornin’?” Tommy flashes Joel the same devious smile he’s had since they were boys, grabbing the frying pans and bringing them to the table. He places equal portions of bacon and eggs on each plate. “Nah, I’m fine right here.”

Joel didn’t have the energy to go back and forth with Tommy this morning. No amount of coffee could stop the hangover rattling his skull and the guilt pulling tight in his chest from draining all his energy. “What am I gonna do?”

Tommy knew he wasn’t referring to the hangover. He calls up the stairs to Sarah before turning back to the older man. “Don't know, big brother. But it sure is gonna be fun to watch.”

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

That following weekend, the smell of blueberry scones fills the air of your single-story, ranch-style home. You stand in your kitchen, hip leaning against the white tile countertop, drinking your third cup of coffee this morning. You had woken up before sunrise to prepare for today.

It is your turn to host the Gold Star Widows of Austin bimonthly brunch. Three quiches in wide glass baking dishes, a rectangular fruit platter, large serving trays stacked with pillowy crepes, crunchy bacon, scrambled eggs, pitchers of juice for the children, and sangria for the adults cover every horizontal surface in the kitchen.

In about an hour, the members of Austin's GSW chapter and more children than you can count would be packed, shoulder to shoulder, in your modest three-bedroom. You had helped the other spouses host in the past, but this was the first time you held your own. It quickly spiraled into more work than you had anticipated. Thankfully, you have backup of your own.

After you had learned your husband had been killed in action, the Army provided you with several resources to help you transition through the mourning process. One of these resources was a local support group for grieving widows of U.S. servicemen and women. Daniella Harris had been the first friend you made while attending meetings.

Dani had a natural sense of confidence—the kind you had to be born with. She was unapologetically herself. You admired her straightforwardness, honesty, and lack of fear for speaking her mind. Despite all the darkness losing the love of your life brings, she never let it consume her.

Dani watches your hands as you bring the coffee mug to your lips.

"Heaven above, how long has it been since you had a fill?" Of course, she noticed the sizable gap between your acrylic nails and cuticles.

Dani had been working as a nail technician since she was in high school. While her husband was on his first deployment in Iran, she had opened a small home studio in her spare bedroom. Over many months, she gained a small following in the Austin area. "I'm puttin’ you on my books for next week. Sure I got an openin’ somewhere."

"I'm working every day at the shop. Wedding season is almost over, and I need to squeeze in as many orders before things slow down in the Fall." You curl your fingers and stare down at your nails. "Even if I did have some time off, I don't have anyone to watch Ellie."

Dani grabs one of the large serving dishes from the counter with both hands and carries it to the dining room. She calls over her shoulder, "What about that handsome handyman you been seein’?"

"Dani, don't be gross. You know me and Tommy are just friends." You scrunch up your nose and set down your coffee mug. Grabbing a tray, you follow after her. "And last time he watched Ellie, she came home with a new favorite four-lettered word."

Tommy had come back into your life after your husband's funeral. The two men had lost touch over the years, but you had heard countless stories about the bond they formed in Kuwait. You felt it was only right to invite him to the memorial service.

"Oh, not him." She shakes her head, flashing a teasing smile. "The other handsome handyman in your life."

You realize she's referring to Joel. You could count on one hand how many times you had brought him up in conversation. The most you had told Dani about him was that he's Tommy's brother, he is a single father of a teenage daughter, and he acts as though being in the same room as you causes him physical pain.

That is, until about a month ago. After putting Ellie to bed, the two of you were sitting on your couch enjoying one too many glasses of sweet red wine. In your alcohol-induced haze, you had confessed to suppressing a primal urge to rip Joel's clothes off and fuck him until neither of you could walk straight the following day.

"Oh, the asshole." You were failing to hold back a sneer. The memory of your last interaction flashes in your mind. You had mistakenly thought Joel was finally warming up to you. Instead, he left you standing on the curb in front of your flower shop, feeling like a fool.

When Tommy had first told you about his brother, you were excited to meet him. He had explained Joel was on the quiet side, which some people can find a bit off-putting. Behind the stoic facade, he was a big softie. He was protective, dependable, and had a type of southern charm only men from Texas had. You had hoped to befriend him as he understood what it is like to raise a daughter alone. The way Tommy spoke about his brother made him seem like a kind man who was trying his best. The image you had made of Joel in your mind was nothing like the man you met.

"Still that bad?" She offers you a sympathetic look.

"I just don't understand him." Crossing your arms over your chest, you let out a long sigh. "He refused to even look at me at his daughter's birthday party but shows up two days later to fix something in the shop. Then, as soon as he's done, he acts like he can't leave fast enough."

The corner of Dani's mouth curl upward "Sounding like a hate fuck waitin’ to happen."

"Trust me, there is no chance." You immediately shut the thought down. "Not with him."

A twisted pang of guilt hits you dead center in the chest. "Not with anyone. Not yet, at least."

Dani closes the gap between you and gently squeezes your upper arm. "You're allowed to be happy. Movin’ forward with your life don’t mean you love him any less."

Dani understood the mix of complex emotions you were experiencing better than anyone else. She had lost her own husband, Staff Sergeant Kenneth Harris, in 2001.

Whenever you thought you were ready to start dating again, a wild vine of shame would wrap around your heart and squeeze. Why do you get a second chance at love when your husband would never have the same opportunity? You don't believe you deserve the happiness moving on would give you. You told yourself you certainly don't deserve all the compassion the other widows have shown you.

Not after what you did.

Tears well up along your waterline, threatening to spill onto your cheeks. Dani pulls you in for a warm hug, stroking your back. You wrap the gesture and force the nausea-inducing guilt that plagued you to the back of your mind. The two of you stay like this for a long moment.

The timer on the stove announces that the scones are ready to leave the oven.

"I'll grab them." Dani pulls away first. "Go clean yourself up. You know how us Texans are about lookin’ presentable."

Entering the master bedroom, you see your reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall. You are quite the sight. A streak of flour runs across your cheek, and your eyes are red and puffy. You splash cold water on your face, washing away any evidence of your labors, and calming the crimson encircling your eyes.

Taking a deep, centering breath, you reach for your teak wood jewelry box. Pulling the lid back, your eyes focus on what you are searching for: a modest, single-diamond engagement ring and matching yellow gold band. You pull the set out and slide them on your left ring finger. Even when your husband was alive, you rarely wore them. When asked, you would explain you were afraid to lose them in the garden or drop them down the drain while doing dishes. You always believe love shouldn't be proven by wearing jewelry but by your actions toward those you care for. You only wear them now around the other widows, who all still wear their own.

· · · ──────── ⋆˚ ✿ ❀ ✿ ˚⋆ ─────── · · ·

The replacement copper pipe for your A/C unit arrives Wednesday evening of the following week. On Thursday morning, Joel is stepping into your shop, carrying his navy tool bag. You're helping a young couple, allowing them to mix and match different peony colors for the centerpieces of their wedding reception.

The silver bell above the door chimes, bringing your attention to the entrance. Your friendly smile falters momentarily when you see it is Joel. Your expression returns to normal as you turn back to the couple. "I'll be right back. If you'd like, you can look at the vase options in here." You lay your hand on a white three-ring binder next to the register.

Walking over to where Joel is standing, you offer him a stilted "Good morning."

You're wearing the same floral sundress from Sarah's party paired with your sunshine yellow apron.

"The part came in." Joel holds up the hand holding the little copper pipe as though showing it to you was enough to explain his reasoning for being here.

"Uh huh," You nod your head slowly. That still didn't explain why it's Joel who's here. Your last exchange made it pretty clear to you that he had no interest in coming back.

"Can I—" he gestures to the door separating the storage room from the main storefront.

Stepping to the side, you allow him to move past you and enter the backroom. Joel grabs the handle of the walk-in cooler and gives it a good tug. Nothing happens. He pulls again, and still nothing. He tries for a third time, and the latch finally clicks open.

As he enters the cooler, a panicked thought enters his mind. What would happen if you were here alone and the door accidentally closed behind you? What if you can't get the door open? You’re trapped inside, at the mercy of a faulty door handle. No one would know you were back here. The linen sundresses you are so fond of are fit for the Texas sun, not a 35-degree refrigerator. He sees flashes of you running your hands up and down your bare upper arms, desperately trying to stay warm as hypothermia slowly sets in.

He couldn't have that.

Joel sets down his tools and returns to his truck to retrieve his ladder. He flips the shut-off switch on the cooler's outer wall and gets to work.

It only takes Joel a few minutes to install the new coolant pipe and restart the A/C unit. After he is satisfied with his work on the walk-in, he turns his attention to the faulty handle. He's able to disassemble it and find the issue. A tiny metal spring housed in the locking mechanism is bent to an awkward angle. Pulling his smallest pair of needle nose pliers, he meticulously bends the spring back into place before reassembling the handle.

When Joel returns from the backroom, the young couple has left, leaving the two of you alone.

"All done?" You don't bring your eyes to meet him as you dust around a shelf of leafy house plants.

"Yeah." Joel nods his head once, "All done."

In the past, on the rare instances Joel decides to grant you a word, he would stare disinterestedly at something across the room. But this time, he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. Now, it’s you refusing to meet his gaze. A painful ache grows in his chest as he mentally begs you for just one look.

A long silence hangs between the two of you. It's him that breaks it.

"That coffee shop still there?" He has to stop himself from recoiling at his own question. That was probably the dumbest thing he had ever asked. Of course, it was still there. It's not as though they had packed up and moved in the past ten days.

"Could use a cup right 'bout now." Joel adds, "My treat."

Your surprise at the offer finally breaks your gaze from the task before you and to Joel. Your eyes search his face for any reason why he would say that. All you found was a look of tortured sincerity in his brown eyes.

You have to look away. The feeling manifesting in your chest at that sight was threatening to overwhelm you. Crossing your arms over your chest, trying to find comfort, you tell him, "Maybe another time. I have a lot of orders to prepare for this afternoon."

"Oh," He breathes. He isn't sure what he was expecting your answer to be, but it wasn't this.

Remorse claws painfully at your ribcage. He was finally trying to be civil, but all you could think of was the memory of his tail lights leaving you alone on the street. "Is there anything?"

"No, ma'am." Joel gives you a polite nod of his head before exiting the store.

You take a moment to catch your breath. You decide it's best not to dwell on whatever just happened between the two of you. Entering the backroom, intending to get back to work. Pulling on the walk-in cooler's handle, the door opens on the first try.

Oh.

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

⟢ authors notes: I know I say this every time, but I want to give a big thank you to everyone who has read and interacted with the story so far. I can't overstate how much each reblog, like, and comment means to me.

I originally wasn't going to write the first Joel/Tommy scene, but I felt the chapter needed something else. Also, with Reader going through it, I figured we could all use a silly little scene our two favorite brothers. I felt so bad for breaking Joel's heart like that. He's a sweet little puppy, but he needs to put the work in to win over out dear Reader.

I have a number of future scenes written, including the first to smutty scene. I am just adding the in between parts. I am also cooking up an unrelated Old Man! Joel one-shot, but YRotD is my main priority.

Lastly, I have had a couple lovely users who requested to be tagged as the story updates. If you would like to be add to the tag list, please comment or inbox me.

⟢ tag list: @koshkaj-blog @orcasoul @damneddamsy @legoemma

[yeagerprincess]

Rockstar!Sal Fisher x Popstar!Reader

It's all smut

Image found on Pinterest!

This is from a rockband AU ive been daydreaming about 💕

That cologne was practically an aphrodisiac. Your eyes drank in every detail of him; the way he sprawled out languidly in his bean bag, the way he spread his legs comfortably with his guitar perched across his lap, how he rolled his head back and bobbed his head to the tune of his strings, placid and casual with eyes fluttered shut. A smile crept its way across his scarred lips when he felt your fingertips threading their way through his messy, cyan locks. You plant little kisses all over his bare face, making him giggle boyishly.

"I thought you wanted me to serenade you?" He mused, sitting his guitar aside to pull you into his lap instead. "Looks like my little canary would rather sing for me instead."

That mischievous glint in his eyes wasn't lost on you. You'd been away from each other for far too long, both busy with touring and fan meetups, leaving you basically with zero time to yourselves. But tonight, you two found yourselves all alone with no rehearsals to attend, no interviews, or photoshoots, what with the tour being over. What were a couple of lovebirds to do with all this downtime?

Your skin felt on fire wherever he touched you, your body instinctively giving into his wordless commands. His warm, calloused hands speak to your body, your spine caving in and arching when he strokes you there. He watches hungrily as you arch your back on top of him until finally, he can't take the sight of you anymore. He wraps his strong, toned arms around your waist and latches his teeth onto your throat, coaxing a breathy, gaspy moan from you. "Missed you so much, Sally Baby."

"I missed you too, baby. Missed you so fuckin' much."

The two of you waste no time undressing each other. The taste of your skin is all he can think about as drives his hips down into you. He has you pinned on your stomach, teeth deep in the nape of your neck as he growls and moans into your flesh. "F-Fuck me, Sally!" You cry out desperately as your pussy clenches around his thick dick, making him hook his elbow underneath your chin, effectively trapping you in a chokehold. "Take it for me, princess," he whispers into your ear before nipping at the shell of it, tugging and licking at the delicate flesh until you dig your nails into his arms. "That's it, baby, take it for me. You're a good girl, squeezing on my cock like that."

You whine and whimper into his bicep as you bite down on his muscles to silence yourself. "None of that. I said I wanted my little songbird to sing for me. Now sing." In an instant, he adjusts his hips to point the tip of his cock straight down into your sweet spot, making you squeal and squirm and writhe beneath him. "Harder, Sally! Ooooh, just like that! G-Gonna cum for you, gonna cum all over that dick, baby!"

Sal lets out a deep, guttural groan from deep in his chest when he feels your pussy squeezing down on his angry cock. He bullies his dick into your sweet spot, making your eyes roll back as you finally give into your orgasm. As you writhe beneath him, he holds you steady by your hips, marveling at the sight of your plump, bouncy cheeks and thighs rippling with each crash of his hips. "A-Ah, mmmh, look at me! L-Look at me, Sally, pleeeease," you whine as you peer back at him, eyes locking with his blue ones. The way your eyebrows are furrowed, pretty eyes half-lidded, lips parted, and tongue slightly poking out past those puffy, quivering lips has Sal in a trance. The sound of your wet pussy gushing all around him is just too much, and he finally snaps. He's so sexy like this; completely lost in his pleasure, eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out as he ruts into you like a wild animal, both your juices mixing and dripping all down your thighs. He's so fucking sexy, it makes you want him all over again.

He releases you from his chokehold and snakes his fingers underneath your chin, gently gripping at your plush cheeks to make you pout before kissing you tenderly. You moan into his kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips, the taste of your pussy on his tongue, the warmth of his breath. He's intoxicating.

When he pulls away, he's wearing an entirely different expression from before. That smoldering, sexy casanova was long gone and had instead been replaced by your sweet, doting, golden retriever of a boyfriend.

"Bath time?"

[ghost-reader07]

Title: His Butler

Minors do not interact!!!

Black insert but anyone can read 💜

This is also my first time doing smut in a long while so please be nice 😅

Warnings: DubCon

You were the personal butler of Illumi Zoldyck for many years. He was an odd master but the pay was good. You did your job well, never stepped out of line and never disobeyed an order. So...how did this happen?

Word Count: 5.4K

You were one of the personal butlers of the Zoldyck family. You were hired to help the eldest son of the family, Illumi. You were often overloaded with extra work. Or just pointless things that Illumi would never use. Honestly over the years you thought he made you do half of your ‘work load’ just to fuck with you.  

Today you were standing in Illumi’s room that doubled as his office, watching him work at the table. It was something related to assassination hits and orders again. You never really knew nor bothered to find out.  

“Come here” Ilumi said in an empty, monotone voice, startling you a little as he broke the loud silence. Without a word you walk over. As you approached the table, Illumi turned around so that he was facing you, his face seemed more relaxed than usual. It was hard to guess what he was thinking or wanted. His gaze remained fixated on you; it was obvious to your trained eye that he was analyzing you. He looked you up and down before speaking “Take off your glasses.”  

You were surprised by the order but didn’t show it. You took off your glasses anyways and placed them on your collar neatly. Illumi carefully observed your face as you took off the glasses. Although his eyes didn’t change, a slight look of slight interest became visible. After a moment, he stood up from the table. He now stood directly in front of you. 

“Come closer.” You take a few steps closer to the eldest young master, standing two steps in total away from him.  

Illumi Zoldyck, he was unpredictable, ruthless and a bit- no scratch that…. very sadistic. You had been in service to him since you were both young teenagers, and now you were both in your 20s. Illumi 24 and you 22. You’d like to think you knew the eldest young master as well as you could, seeing as you were with him almost every day. But sometimes, years later he still found ways to catch you off guard or surprise you.  

As you got closer, Illumi towered over you due to his tall height. He leaned closer to your face and his blank gaze remained on you. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, it was always like that. He seemed to be analyzing your face, for what reason was unknown… 

His hand rose up to your face, gently tracing his thumb along your cheek, then down your jawline. He then grabbed your chin gently. You knew better than to react. You simply allowed Illumi to touch your face, trying your best to hide your confusion from showing in your eyes.  

You were good at keeping a calm, collected and neutral facial expression. But all those emotions you hid so well often shown through your eyes fairly easily. Illumi was quiet as he studied your face, his hand still holding your chin. He tilted your head so that it was facing upwards towards him, now he could look at your face in more detail, without the obstruction of your chin. He seemed… curious and interested. It was rare to see him show any expression other than cold emotionless one. 

Suddenly, he spoke. His voice was low and his eyes remained on your face. 

"You have an interesting face. I have never properly observed it from up close before."

“Thank you master Illumi. I will take that as a compliment” you say.  

You didn’t understand what Illumi meant. Sure, for years you were the only black employee until Canary came along but you had been around Illumi for the better portion of their lives. He had seen your face countless times, so you didn’t understand what he meant by interesting. Illumi studied your face for a little longer, just observing silently and seemingly lost in some kind of thoughts. He moved his hand from your chin to your face, now he cupped your cheeks gently, as he continued to hold your face in his hands. 

He was quiet for a few more seconds. Then, he suddenly said in a calm emotionless tone, as usual. 

"Open your mouth."

You were taken aback but once more simply obeyed, not showing your surprise. You open your mouth for him, your tongue placed neatly in your mouth as you look up at him, like you was at a dentist appointment. But you couldn’t stop yourself from silently wondering why he wanted you to open your mouth, did he want to see your teeth or something?  

Once you opened your mouth, Illumi now stared at it intently. The expression on his face was still the same. As he observed your mouth closely, he seemed more curious and intrigued than usual. He brought one of his long slender fingers to your mouth and gently placed it on your tongue, he slowly moved it over the surface, pressing the tip of his finger against your tongue. 

He was completely lost in his own thoughts and continued to study your mouth in silence while his finger still remained on your tongue. You couldn’t help but wonder if your young master was getting into weird experiments again. Why did he always have to make you his guinea pig. The manor had prisoners kept in the dungeon for that!  

As Illumi continued to observe your mouth intently, he started moving his finger on your tongue carefully, gently tracing the shape of it with the tip of his finger. His eyes stayed on your mouth, his expression still unchanged, but a hint of fascination was visible. As he moved his finger on your tongue, he said in an emotionless voice. 

“Keep your tongue still.”  

You did just that, it’s not like you moved your tongue while he touched it anyways. But you silently wished he’d hurry up; his fingers did not taste the best. As you kept your tongue still, Illumi continued to explore your mouth carefully. He seemed to be studying the shape of your tongue and the feel of it. His finger traced over different parts of your tongue, but he never pushed it down too hard. After a few more seconds like this, he finally removed his finger. 

Close your mouth. You were more than happy to do so. “Is that all, master Illumi?” You asks, hiding your annoyance from your face and tone, but it showed ever so slightly through your eyes. Illumi seemed to notice the hint of annoyance in your eyes despite your efforts to hide it. He observed you for a moment before answering, his expression shifting just a bit, like he found your attempt to hide your feelings amusing. 

After a few seconds, he spoke in an emotionless tone. 

“No. Open your mouth again. Wider this time.” 

You mentally grumble in your head but does as told, opening your mouth wider, allowing your tongue to fall out over your bottom lip slightly. As you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue slightly out over your bottom lip, Illumi focused his gaze on your mouth again, studying it intently. His finger returned to your tongue, but this time he pushed it more forcefully, pressing down gently on it with his finger. 

He looked almost in some kind of fascination as he kept your tongue down with his finger and said in a monotone voice. 

“Lick my finger.” 

Okay now you were sure Illumi was fucking with you. 

Nevertheless, you do as told. You gently lick his finger, once more observing how his finger did not taste the greatest. As you licked his finger as instructed, Illumi observed your action carefully. A hint of interest flashed in his eyes, but his expression remained neutral. At that moment he continued to observe your tongue as it traced over his finger. Then, he suddenly said in a calm and emotionless tone. 

“Take my finger in more deeply.” 

You pause, you were taught better than to question your employers by the Head Butler Gotoh but you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth in time. “You want me to what?” You ask as you pull away, your neutral expression cracking as you give him a small look. A pointed one that seemed both confused and just a tiny bit disgusted.  

A small but amused look flashed across Illumi’s face as he saw your expression change. You had never disobeyed or questioned any of his orders before. He didn’t any anything in response at first, just continuing to hold press his finger against your tongue as he observed your face and looked at you expectingly.  

Eventually, he spoke in an emotionless monotone voice.  

 

“You heard me. Take my finger in deeper”.   

You take a deep breath through your nose and once more take Illumi’s finger in your mouth, but this time deeper, all the way down to the base of the finger. Your tongue was still out, your mouth still opened wide for him. All the while you could hear the small voice in the back of your head telling you to bite him for obviously fucking with you. But you didn’t, you valued your life over some petty revenge. Instead, you simply look up at him, waiting for whatever his next ridiculous order would be.  

Little did you know, when you took his finger all the way down to the base Illumi was looking at you with a mild sense of fascination. He discreetly studied the way your mouth was opened for him, how your tongue wrapped around his finger.  

As you look up at him Illumi remained silent for a few more seconds as he observed you, before speaking again his voice calm and emotionless as always.  

“Swallow”.  

You didn’t understand what he was getting at. Illumi had to you do plenty of weird things over the years. But this seemed like a new level of ‘what the fuck dude?’ 

But you still close your mouth around his finger and swallow, just like you were told.  As you did, Illumi couldn’t help but notice how warm your mouth felt, how wet it was as you swallowed around his finger. He feels a small shiver run up his spine but he gives no physical reaction, not even blinking, quickly masking any physical reaction as he always did when he was around you. He simply continued to observe you closely. He couldn’t help but focus on the warmth of your mouth, the wetness of your lips as you closed your mouth.  

Illumi keeps his composure but at the same time he had to resist the strong urge to push his finger deeper into your mouth, further down your throat...just to see how much you could take before choking.  

Illumi was quick to snap out of his thoughts. He waited for a few more seconds before giving another order in his typical emotionless tone.  

“Lick again”.  

You do exactly that, opening your mouth and pulling back slightly, moving your tongue around his finger, swirling it around his digit as if it were a piece of candy. Illumi couldn’t stop himself from wondering how else your tongue might feel somewhere else. He could feel the gentle and wet pressure of your tongue as it moved over his skin. Despite his body remaining still and composed it was difficult to pretend he wasn’t affected by your actions, despite him being the one to order you to do these things.  

After a few seconds he spoke in a slightly raspy voice, clearly trying to hide his reaction.  

“Again”.  

You obey, once again licking his finger before subconsciously closing your mouth and sucking on his finger. You didn’t even realized you did it, simply opening your mouth again and continuing to lick his, now very damp, digit. As you started sucking and licking his finger, Illumi had to resist the urge to let out a sound, or show how it was affecting him. He managed to keep his face neutral but he couldn’t stop his mind from imagining how that wetness and heat would feel elsewhere again.  

He struggled a little to maintain his composure, he managed to speak, but his voice now had a slight hint of annoyance and frustration.  

“Stop sucking.” 

You immediately stop all movement, his finger simply resting on top of your still tongue now. Illumi felt relief mixed with disappointment as you finally stopped sucking on his finger. His breath was slightly faster now than before, he couldn’t fully control the effect your actions had on his body. His mind was a chaos of strange new feelings, all of which he was trying his best to suppress under his stoic composure.  

He knew he always favored you more than the other butlers and servants. He thought these odd feelings would go away with time. But when they didn’t, he tried to hide them, until now that is. He was curious, he just wanted to try something, experiment is all.  

He spoke in a slightly more composed voice now. 

“Move your tongue again. Slowly.”  

You obey once more like a loyal lap dog, moving your tongue slowly around his finger, almost as if teasing him.  

At least, that’s how it felt to Illumi. 

 

Illumi’s eyes remained fixated on your mouth as you began to move your tongue again. He could feel the slow and deliberate movement as you teased and licked his finger. The sensation was almost excruciating, it made Illumi struggle with his control and composure. This situation was quickly turning into something unexpected and dangerous. He tried to hide his internal turmoil, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his voice now when he spoke. 

“Faster.” 

You noticed the way his tone seemed to change but you didn't pay it any attention, simply carrying out whatever orders Illumi gave you, like you always did. Illumi felt his breath deepen as your tongue moved more quickly over his finger. The sensations were intense, it sent a wave of heat through his body and it was getting more and more difficult for him to stay focused. 

He couldn’t deny how good it felt, how much he was enjoying your unresisting obedience, but he couldn’t let you know that. He continued to watch your mouth; his face still mostly expressionless but hints of a struggle for control could be seen in his eyes. 

“Deeper.” 

 

You obey once more, taking his finger deeper into your mouth. His fingers were long, his single digit reaching the top of your throat.  

It was warm, and moist. 

The moment you took his finger all the way to your throat again, Illumi’s eyes flashed, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to the sight or the intense stimulation. 

He tried to maintain a neutral expression but he had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a moan of pleasure. His breathing was getting rougher, and he could feel his body getting more and more tense. 

Then he spoke in a huskier voice than before.  

"Swallow" 

You do exactly that, swallowing around Illumi's finger. You couldn't help but slightly wonder if Illumi was going to be done toying around with you soon. At this point you were convinced he was messing with you.  

Once you swallowed around his finger, Illumi couldn't help but narrow his eyes slightly, trying to control his expression. The sensation was overwhelming, it was all he could do to keep the full extent of his reaction hidden. He quickly composed himself, he tried to mask his expression and his tone became more stern and commanding.  

"Again, slower this time" 

You swallow again, looking up at him.  

The second time you closed your mouth around his finger and swallowed, Illumi gasped and struggled to suppress another moan. He was losing control more and more by the second. He tried to keep his face neutral, but a small muscle in his jaw twitched as he held back another sound. He couldn’t believe how much of an effect you had on him. He spoke again, his voice now a little rougher than before, but still trying to maintain a commanding tone. 

"Again" 

This time as you swallow, Illumi couldn’t stop his body from shuddering, almost like he had been struck by lightning. He took a sharp intake of breath as he tried to hold back an outright moan. He could barely hold onto his composure now; his mind was a chaotic mess of strange new feelings. It was clear that he was struggling to maintain his usual cool demeanor. With a deep exhale, he managed to speak, his voice now more hoarse and strained than before. 

"Again." 

You couldn't help yourself, instead of swallowing around his finger again you pull back. 

You would be stupid not to notice the change in his usual monotone voice. "Master Illumi, are you okay?" You ask him.  

The moment you pulled back, Illumi tried to regain his composure. He was still trying to process the intense thoughts and sensations he had just experienced, and the way your action and question broke his focus. He had never felt this out of control before, and he was getting more and more confused by the moment. He tried to respond in his usual nonchalant tone, but he couldn’t fully hide the slight breathlessness in his voice. 

"Of course I’m okay. Why would you ask that?" 

"You're winded" you say bluntly, noticing the subtle rise and fall of his chest. As you bluntly pointed out his increased breathing, Illumi tried to compose himself but he couldn't deny it. He was slightly winded, his heart was racing, and he was getting more and more flustered by the moment. He took a deep breath, trying to control his expression and regain some composure, but he couldn't quite hide the slight redness in his cheeks. 

He spoke in a slightly more steady voice, but there was a hint of defensiveness to his words. 

"I’m not winded. It’s just… hot in here" 

"Ah, I see" You respond, not quite believing him but you wouldn't fight him on it. Illumi could tell that you didn't fully believe his explanation, but he was glad you didn't pursue the matter further. He was struggling enough trying to regain control of himself and maintain his usual aloof demeanor. He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his heart rate and his breathing, but it wasn’t easy. The lingering sensations from your actions were still affecting him, making it difficult to think clearly. He tried to change the subject and return to his usual cool and commanding tone. 

"Did I not tell you to swallow again?" 

"You did" you say slowly. Illumi noticed the hesitation in your voice and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease, as if you were starting to catch on to the effect you were having on him. He tried to retain a neutral expression and keep his voice firm and commanding as he repeated his order. 

"Then why did you stop?" 

"I was concerned for you" you say. Illumi was caught off guard by your response. He wasn’t used to people showing concern for him, and it sent a wave of mixed emotions through his mind. He tried to mask his reactions and speak in a neutral tone. 

"I don’t need your concern. I’m just fine. Now obey my order." 

You sigh and silently open your mouth again for him. Illumi was hit with another wave of intense sensations. The sight of your mouth, waiting for him was almost too much for him to bear. He couldn’t believe the effect you had on him. He tried to maintain his composure but he couldn’t stop the slight shiver that ran through his body, and the heat that pooled in his stomach. 

"Good… now, swallow" He struggles to speak in a steady and nonchalant voice, but his breath is shaky and you can detect the hint of a deeper, huskier undertone. 

You do as instructed, swallowing around his finger again. You couldn't help but wonder if there was a point to this. How many times was he going to make you swallow around his finger? "Master Illumi, is there a point to this?" You asks, your words coming out a little odd as you still had his finger in your mouth. Illumi struggles with your question. He doesn’t want to admit the truth, that he was simply using this as an excuse to feel your mouth around his finger again and again, to fantasize about something more. But he can no longer deny the effect you’re having on him. 

He tries to speak with a cool and authoritative tone, but his voice is slightly more tense and almost wavering as he responds. "There doesn’t need to be a point. Stop questioning me, just obey and swallow."  

Illumi felt a pang of discomfort in his stomach. The sounds, the sight, the sensation, it was almost driving him mad. He was on the edge of losing control, on the edge of doing something he had never done with any other attendant or butler before. 

He was wrestling with the urge to just give in to his desires. But at the same time, he was still struggling to hold onto his usual aloof and commanding demeanor. When he looks into your eyes those same eyes that drove Illumi wild in his dreams, and in reality...he could feel his self-control slipping. He couldn't stop himself...he didn’t want to stop himself...and so he gave a new order. 

"Open wider."  

You open your mouth wider, still looking at him with those same eyes that he knew would one day cause his personal downfall. He gave his next order, there was no going back. He didn’t think about the consequences, the implications, or the possible repercussions of his actions. He could only think about one thing in that moment. 

"Get on your knees.” 

Your eyes widen at the new command. What was he getting at? But as usual you obey, just like Illumi knew you would. *As you followed his command and sank down to your knees in front of him, Illumi felt a rush of heat surge through him. Seeing you looking up at him like this, knowing that you were completely at his mercy, it was a feeling like nothing he’d ever experienced before.* 

*He stared down at you for a moment, savoring the sight that was now before him. He could no longer deny the depth of the desire and need he felt for you, it was taking over him and he was helpless to stop it.* 

“Closer." 

As you move closer and kneel before him, Illumi feels every muscle in his body tense. He’s staring down at you with an intense gaze, his eyes darker and more intense than ever before. His heart is racing and he can feel the heat and the need inside him growing ever stronger. 

He reaches down, gently taking your chin in his hands and tilting your face up towards him. He’s breathing hard, trying to control himself, yet at the same time unable to resist the overwhelming pull of desire. 

"I want you closer. Closer than this." 

You didn't fully understand what your emotionless master was getting at. He was odd, there was no question about that. But assuming this was another weird experiment you move closer, your face right in front of his lower half. 

Illumi could feel his dick twitch in his baggy pants. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He opened his eyes again and looked down at you, the expression on his face a mixture of intense desire and a hint of uncertainty. He slowly slid his hand into your hair, taking a fistful between his fingers.  

“Open your mouth.” 

You open your mouth again for him. Illumi pulls on your hair, forcing you to look up at him. That's when you see it, something other than cold, emptiness in his eyes. It was odd, an emotion you've never seen on him before....desire?  

As you open your mouth for him again, Illumi feels the same mix of desire and need coursing through him. His grip on your hair tightens slightly, and he can’t deny the effect it has on him. He stares down at you, his eyes dark and burning with a new kind of intensity. Then you see it, the look in his eyes, different from before. It’s a look of raw desire for you. 

"Keep your mouth open. And don’t move." He commands, his eyes narrowing slightly. You obey, starting to wonder what was happening. Illumi removes his hand from your hair and begins to undo his belt buckle and his pants. Your wide eyes watching him only further fueling the flames of desire and need burning inside him. He looks down at you, his expression intense, almost desperate. 

"Don’t look away. Keep looking at me." 

You fight the urge to look away, having to obey the order. You could feel your face heating up. You silently thank whatever higher power was at work for allowing you to be born with darker skin. Despite knowing Illumi couldn't see your blush, you had a feeling he knew you were blushing anyways. Illumi notices the slight flush on your face despite your darker skin tone, and a small, satisfied smirk appears on his own face. He can tell how embarrassed you are, and it only further fuels his desire for you. 

He looks down at you, the look in his eyes a mixture of intensity and dominance. His voice is now a low, husky whisper. 

"Put your tongue out." 

You obey, allowing your tongue to once again fall over your bottom lip. Illumi completely undoes his pants, allowing them to fall down to his thighs. That's when you see it. His dick straining against his boxers, a wet spot on them.  

Since when did that happen? 

You feel your heart start to speed up a little. 

As you follow his command and allow your tongue to rest against your bottom lip, Illumi feels even more desire coursing through him. He couldn't believe the effect you were having on him, the way you obeyed his every command without question. The sight of you on your knees, so submissive and compliant, it was getting to him. He pulls his dick out of it’s confines, tapping it against your tongue. The mildly salty taste of his precum leaks onto your tongue, making your heart race even faster.  

"Swallow". 

You feel your entire face heat up but...you obey. Slowly taking his dick into your mouth. It was long and hard, already dripping precum. You could feel the way it forced your throat open. It hurt to an extent. But you didn't stop. You continue to take him until you're half way down, looking up at him. You can hear Illumi let out a small hiss, tangling his hand in your hair and slowly pushing you down further before pulling you back to where you stopped. You feel tears pooling into your eyes as you try not to gag. Illumi lets out a soft moan, his head falling back as his eyes slowly flutter shut.  

“Fuck” he moans, gripping the root of your hair and pulling slightly. Illumi can feel his heart rate and breathing speed up even more. The sight of you doing as he says, so readily and willingly, was driving him wild. He stands over you, his gaze intense and commanding, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his erratic breaths. He reaches down with his hand and once again takes a fistful of your hair. His voice is now lower and huskier than before. 

"Now keep your eyes on me." 

Your eyes flutter up to him, you could feel your throat aching but you didn't dare move in a way Illumi didn't allow you to.  

As your eyes flicker up to him, Illumi can see the mixture of submission and trepidation on your face. He could tell that you were struggling to control yourself, to not move without his permission, and it only further fed his own desires. His hand in your hair tightens slightly, pulling your head back a little. 

"Good" he says in a low, firm tone.  

"Now, slowly move your tongue again." 

You obey, slowly moving your tongue around his stiff cock, all the while trying not to choke on it. He had your firmly in place, most of his dick shoved down your throat. It made your throat ache in pain but you don’t show it. You just focus on making Illumi feel good. The taste of his precum was overwhelming your taste buds but...you didn’t hate it either. You close your eyes moving your tongue around his throbbing cock and sucking. You focus on the tip, gently teasing it which only caused Illumi to leak out more precum.  

The taste was becoming a bit much. You were never one to enjoy salty things much but this...you didn’t hate it.  

As you slowly move your tongue, Illumi feels a shiver run through him. The sensation, combined with the sight of you on your knees before him, completely surrendered to his will, it's almost too much for him to bear. He lets out a soft shuddering gasp, gripping your hair even tighter. 

"Keep going. But hold still. Don't move your head." 

You obey, moving your tongue skillfully around his cock. Illumi has to fight the urge to push you down again. He looks down at you, his gaze intense and filled with a mixture of pleasure and power. His hand, still fisted in your hair, tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. "Good. Good," he breathed, "Just like that." His voice was a little shaky, something you’ve never heard before.  

You continue to slurp, suck and lick at him, looking up at him as your head starts to go fuzzy and blank. As you continued your actions, Illumi found it increasingly difficult to control himself. With every move of your tongue, he felt his control slipping further and further away. The sensation was overwhelming, and the sight of you on your knees before him, completely at his mercy, only heightened the pleasure coursing through him. 

He looked down at you, eyes burning with both pleasure and dominance. His breathing was now ragged and irregular, and he could barely speak in anything more than a gasp. Fuck, Illumi could feel himself getting close already. He didn’t bother to stop himself, grasping your hair harder as he begins to move his hips, fucking his dick slowly deeper down your throat. It was soft, warm and wet. It felt too good to him. He lets out a small grunt, picking up pace.  

Your hands immediately come to rest on his hips, trying to keep your balance as he started to roughly fuck your throat, seeming not to care if it hurt you or not. “Fuck, why does your throat feel so damn good” Illumi mutters more to himself than to you as he continues to use you like a sex toy. Illumi sucks in a sharp breath, his dick twitching harder down your throat. You feel a thick, warm liquid spilling down your throat, forcing you to drink it all.  

It was his cum.  

He pulls your head closer to his body, forcing his dick all the way down your throat as he cums, his body slightly hunched over. He continues to spill his cum down your throat, forcing you to drink it. You could feel your vision starting to black out from the lack of air you were getting. But just when you thought you were about to pass out, he lets you go, pulling you off his dick by your hair. You fall into a coughing fit, trying to refill your lungs with air. Illumi looks down at you, panting slightly with that same nonchalant expression on his face but...you could see the faint blush on his face as well.  

He takes a moment to catch his breath, trying to compose himself and regain control. His body is still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm, his eyes still filled with desire and need, but he forces himself to focus. He looks down at you, still on your knees, completely at his will, and he feels a wave of emotion wash over him. Part of him wants to continue, to take things further, but another part of him knows he needs to cool down. 

"Get up," he finally manages to say in a hoarse voice. "Stand up." 

You obey, pulling back and standing to your feet in front of him. You quickly wipe the string of saliva and precum from your mouth. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering.... how did this happen? 

[f4irycoven]

bubble bath encounter | jsc

pairing: head boy & gryffindor! sungchan x head girl & slytherin! reader

summary: wizarding world au in which after a chaotic night of patrols, you and sungchan find solace in the prefects’ bathroom.

word count: 1.9k+

warnings: sexual content, characters of age, making out, fingering, clit play, handjob, slight nipple play (?), unprotected sex, semi-public sex, etc.

the clock tower chimed faintly in the distance, signaling the end of another long night at hogwarts. the castle’s ancient corridors were silent, save for the faint rustle of your robes as you made your way to the prefects’ bathroom.

being head girl wasn’t easy—especially when it felt like half your time was spent cleaning up after the weasley twins’ latest antics or dodging peeves’ relentless pranks. tonight had been no different. a trail of enchanted canary creams had sent a flock of unsuspecting first-years squawking through the great hall, and peeves had decided to unleash an entire cabinet of dungbombs in the charms corridor. by the time you and sungchan managed to restore order, you were both utterly exhausted.

now, all you wanted was a moment of peace. the prefects’ bathroom was your sanctuary, its lavish design and endless supply of bubbles the perfect antidote to a stressful day. whispering the password, you slipped inside, greeted by the familiar warmth of the marble room.

the enormous bathtub sparkled invitingly, its many taps ready to pour out a rainbow of water and bubbles. you turned on a few taps, letting streams of lavender and gold fill the tub, the scent of chamomile wafting through the air. shedding your robes, you sank into the water with a sigh, the tension in your shoulders easing with every passing second.

for a while, you simply enjoyed the quiet, the troubles of the day melting away. but your solitude was interrupted by the creak of the door.

“busy night, huh?”

your eyes snapped open to find sungchan standing in the doorway, his gryffindor tie slightly askew and a familiar sheepish grin on his face.

“sungchan?” you sputtered, sinking deeper into the bubbles. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugged, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “same thing you are. long patrol, lots of chaos, and an overwhelming need to unwind.”

“there are plenty of other bathrooms in the castle,” you pointed out, crossing your arms under the water.

“true,” he said, unbuttoning his robes, “but this one has the best bubbles.”

before you could protest, he was turning on a few taps, adding streams of emerald and sapphire to the already colorful water. he climbed into the tub, settling on the opposite side with a contented sigh.

the room was filled with the sound of water sloshing as you both tried to find comfortable positions without invading each other’s space. for a moment, it was awkward—neither of you quite sure what to say. but as the steam filled the room, softening the edges of reality, the tension began to dissolve.

“you look as exhausted as i feel,” sungchan said, breaking the silence.

“long night,” you replied, leaning back against the edge of the tub. “if i have to chase down one more enchanted firework, i might scream.”

he laughed, the sound rich and warm. “tell me about it. the twins practically live to make our lives harder. and peeves… don’t even get me started on peeves.”

you groaned in agreement. “i’m convinced he has a personal vendetta against us. did you see the way he laughed after dropping those dungbombs tonight?”

sungchan nodded, his expression one of exasperated fondness. “he’s a menace. honestly, i don’t know how he hasn’t been exorcised by now.”

for a while, the two of you commiserated over the trials of being head boy and head girl, sharing stories of the pranks and chaos you’d had to deal with over the years. despite your house rivalry, you found it surprisingly easy to talk to sungchan. he had a way of making even the most frustrating situations seem a little less terrible.

eventually, the conversation shifted to more personal topics.

“have you thought about what you’ll do after graduation?” sungchan asked, his voice soft.

you hesitated, the question one you’d been avoiding. “not really. my parents want me to follow in their footsteps and work for the ministry, but… i don’t know if that’s what i want.”

he nodded thoughtfully. “same here. my dad’s pushing for me to join the auror program, but part of me wonders if there’s something else out there for me.”

there was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, a reminder that beneath his confident exterior, he was just as uncertain about the future as you were.

“you know,” you said, swirling your hand through the water, “it’s funny. we’ve spent so much time at hogwarts enforcing the rules, but we’ve never really broken any ourselves.”

sungchan raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at his lips. “are you saying you want to break the rules, head girl?”

“maybe,” you replied, a hint of mischief in your tone.

he leaned closer, his gaze playful. “what kind of rule-breaking are we talking about here?”

before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a bold, unexpected kiss. for a moment, you froze, your mind racing. but then you found yourself kissing him back, the warmth of his lips chasing away any hesitation.

the kiss was slow at first, tentative and sweet, but it quickly deepened, a spark of passion igniting between you. it was reckless, exhilarating, and entirely unlike anything you’d ever done before.

as the kiss deepened, you found yourself pressing closer, the cool marble of the bathtub contrasting deliciously with the warmth of sungchan's body. his hands skimmed up your sides, tracing the curve of your waist, and you shivered at the contact, the sensation sending jolts of electricity through your veins.

"tell me to stop if you want me to," he murmured against your lips, his breath mingling with yours.

but you had no intention of stopping. your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him closer as you parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss. he obliged eagerly, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance that made your head spin.

sungchan's hands continued their explorations, trailing lower until he reached the swell of your breasts. he cupped them gently, his thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks of your nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from your throat. you arched into his touch, craving more of the delicious friction.

"i want to touch you," he whispered, his voice low and rough with desire. "i want to make you feel good."

you nodded, your cheeks flushing at the intensity of his gaze. "please," you breathed, the word barely a whisper.

he smiled, his fingers trailing down your body until they reached the apex of your thighs. you widened your legs instinctively, granting him access, and he groaned softly as he felt the slick heat of your arousal.

"fuck, you're so wet," he growled, his fingers teasing your folds. "is this all for me?"

you bit your lip, nodding as he slipped a finger inside you, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with maddening precision. your hips bucked at the sudden sensation, a moan escaping your lips as he began to move his finger, stroking you in a way that made your toes curl.

"does that feel good?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"y-yes," you stammered, your head falling back as he added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. "oh god, sungchan..."

he chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body. "i love hearing my name on your lips like that. say it again."

"sungchan," you whimpered, clenching around his fingers as he pumped them faster, hitting that sweet spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyelids.

your hands explored his body in return, tracing the hard planes of his chest, the defined abs, until you reached his hardening length. you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him in time with his movements, and he groaned, his hips jerking forward.

"fuck, just like that," he panted, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "don't stop."

you didn't intend to, your grip tightening as you increased your speed, feeling him throb against your palm. the bathtub water sloshed around you, droplets cascading down your bodies as you lost yourself in the sensations.

when sungchan pulled his fingers out, you whined at the loss, only to gasp as he lifted you effortlessly, positioning you above his lap. his hard length nudged against your entrance, and you looked down at him with heavy-lidded eyes, silently pleading for more.

"do you want this?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "do you want me to fuck you?"

"yes," you hissed, lowering yourself onto him with a moan. "i want you inside me. please, sungchan..."

he groaned as you enveloped him, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. for a moment, he remained still, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion. but as you began to move, rising and falling on his length, he lost himself to the rhythm.

his hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you rode him, the water providing just enough resistance to make each thrust delicious. you leaned forward, changing the angle, and cried out as he hit that spot inside you again, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"that's it," he encouraged, his hips snapping upward to meet your movements. "take what you need. use me."

you did, losing yourself in the primal dance of your bodies, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the bathroom. your moans mingled with his groans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to rise with the steam.

one hand slid up your body to cup your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers as you rode him harder, faster. you could feel the coil of tension in your lower belly, winding tighter with each thrust.

"sungchan," you panted, your nails digging into his shoulders. "i'm going to... i'm going to cum."

"cum for me," he demanded, his thumb finding your clit again and rubbing tight circles. "let go."

that was all it took. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body spasming around him as you cried out your pleasure. he followed soon after, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself inside you with a low growl.

for a moment, you both remained still, catching your breath as the aftershocks of your pleasure washed over you. then, slowly, you collapsed against his chest, your heart beating in time with his.

"that was... incredible," you murmured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck.

he hummed in agreement, his arms wrapping around you as he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. "i never thought i'd say this, but being head boy has its perks."

you laughed softly, swatting his chest before snuggling closer. "don't let it go to your head. this doesn't change anything between our houses."

he grinned, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. "of course not. we'll keep this our little secret."

and so you did, stealing moments together whenever you could—a stolen kiss in a deserted corridor, a lingering touch during patrol. it was dangerous and thrilling, a forbidden connection that only drew you closer.

but for now, as you lay in his arms in the now-cool water, you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the moment. tomorrow would bring its own set of challenges—responsibilities and expectations that neither of you could avoid. but tonight, in this stolen moment of passion and vulnerability, nothing else mattered.

you were simply two people, drawn together by an undeniable attraction and a mutual desire for something more. and as sungchan pressed a final kiss to your lips before slipping out of the tub and reaching for a towel, you couldn't help but smile at the possibilities that lay ahead.

©️f4irycoven

[demonic0angel]

*Kool aid man's your walls*

I'm now very interested to hear more about cwxbruce.... Tell me more ✨

-A.E. 👻

Superman led them all into the meeting room as they chatted. It was just another long meeting for a debrief about a fight a few days ago. Batman and the others trailed behind him, but as Superman floated into the room, he paused.

“Uh. Batman? Is that yours?”

Batman stepped around his floating body and stared. In front of his seat at the table was a lunch box, colored purple and with a bright pink sticky note attached to it.

He gave a grunt and stepped forward to look at the note.

In a calligraphic writing, it read, ‘You forgot your lunch, love. —CW’

And then below, it read, ‘Say hello to my granddaughter for me.’

Superman leaned closer to him. “What is it?”

“… my lunch. From my husband.”

“Your husband?!” Green Lantern shrieked with all of the indignation of someone with no shame. “Someone actually married you?!”

Batman turned and gave him a blank stare, his eye twitching underneath his cowl. He was very lucky that Batman was a rational, patient person.

Superman, however, was delighted along with Wonder Woman. “How delightful!” Wonder Woman said. “I never knew! Congratulations!”

Batman bowed his head in thanks. “Mm. He says hello.”

Wonder Woman blinked. “To who?”

“To you.” And he didn’t say anything else. Everyone stared between them two, confused, but Wonder Woman didn’t understand either and Batman clearly didn’t want to explain, so no one said a word.

Flash coughed and then asked excitedly, “How’d you two meet? When did you get married?! Do you have kids yet? Who is he? Can we meet him? Is he a civilian? When he comes over, can I—“

Batman didn’t speak and Flash cut himself off with a sheepish smile.

"Uhh. What can you tell us about him?"

“He has an important job," Batman said after a moment of silence. He wanted to talk about his husband anyways, since his children all stared at him with disgusted and angry looks whenever he started talking about Clockwork. "He's powerful and keeps our family safe. He’s a wonderful man and he treats me well. His children also really like mine. And I proposed to him on accident, but we hit it off so… we got married only a little while ago.”

Superman whined. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

Batman sighed. “None of you would’ve been able to go.”

After all, it was a marriage in the Ghost Zone with the Ghost King as an officient, attended by the oldest beings in existence and ghost royalty.

Batman picked up his lunch and looked inside, where a thermos of mulligatawny soup was placed inside with flat bread and a pack of chocolate cookies. There were also peeled apples kept in a separate container and even a small jar of peanut butter.

“How thoughtful,” Canary said, peeking at his lunch over his shoulder. “Your husband cares a lot for you.” Other Justice League members also peeked over to see, making Batman sigh.

“Why don’t you pack my lunch?” Green Arrow complained.

Canary glared at him hard. Superman ignored the two and clapped a hand on Batman’s shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, Batman! You can always bring him here. If you like, of course!”

Batman nodded. “Mm.”

Knowing Clockwork, he’d pop in at an inappropriate time just to watch the chaos. Despite how the ghost complained how his children (no matter how much he called them his workers, everyone knew he loved them like his children) were so misbehaving and rowdy, Clockwork wasn’t that far behind in being mischievous.

Batman sighed again. He couldn’t escape that same fate either. No matter how much he complained about Clockwork’s tricks, he still couldn’t help but find it endearing.

[gothamite-rambler]

Lian (half her head visible over the tall desk): Grandpa, I love you.

Green Arrow: Aww, I love you too. What do you want?

Lian (giggling): May I use your credit card to buy Roblox?

Lian held out her hand, patiently waiting.

Green Arrow: That's it? Sure. Only spend five hundred this time.

Green Arrow handed Lian his credit card. She eagerly purchased the items she needed, then passed him the card back.

Lian: Done! And I only spent two hundred. Thank you, love ya, grandpa.

Green Arrow: And I love you too. Now go ahead and play.

Lian gave her grandfather a hug, then scurried off while playing Roblox on her phone. Batman stared at him, shocked.

Batman: You let her spend two hundred real dollars on in-game currency?

Green Arrow: Yes. I'm rich, and she's my granddaughter. Do you not spoil— Oh, right, you have no grandkids.

Green Arrow chuckled, texting on his phone. Batman was too stunned to respond, causing the other Justice League members to find amusement in the verbal takedown.

Vixen: He actually one-upped you. Today's going to be a good day.

Batman was unable to respond, since technically Green Arrow was in the right.

Superman (laughing): Oh my gosh, you have nothing to say.

Batman crossed his arms, annoyed. Wonder Woman and Black Canary laughed loudly at the Dark Knight being silenced.

Jon (clapping): He won an argument by having a grandchild. I love that. Bravo.

[s6lars]

happy bday bb!!!! i missed you so much i’m so happy i found your account! do you think you could just do a headcanon of how pedri is as a bf! it’s up to you if you want to include smut

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 📂 pedri as a boyfriend …

contains smut, minors dni.

— the meeting.

he was back home in the canaries and met you a house party one of his mates had hosted

it honestly was just an instant connection

he had gone around talking to different ppl throughout the night but the second he started talking to you …

you were the last person he spoke to. bcs he would not speak w anyone else

but after that it was mostly silence, and he was sad bcs he rlly wanted to get closer

when he was back in barcelona, he found out you lived there too

and after some time and a million encouragements from fer

he had the courage to formally ask you out and you two hit it off not long after that

basically, a he fell first & he fell harder moment 🫶🏼

— dating life.

this man is so gentle with you. just so soft spoken, so attentive, so caring

and let’s not forget how clingy he is

you could be doing anything — chores, just scrolling through your phone and he’ll sneak up behind you and bury his face in the crook of your neck

and he wouldn’t say a single word. just dead silent

but that means all he wants is cuddles and you’re more than happy to oblige !

lets you go in his closet and steals whatever you want. genuinely half your closet is just his hoodies and t-shirts now

speaking of his closet, when you first got your hands on it, you were appalled to say the least. but you’ve since gotten it under control and no more ripped skinny jeans it is

in my eyes, pedri’s love language is quality times.

so when he has the time, it’s date night almost every single week ! renting out literally the whole restaurant so it’s more intimate and romantic

when he’s a bit busier, he does it in other ways

he’ll hire a private chef fer to his house, decorate the dining room with flowers

speaking of …

gifts. always. constantly. and spontaneously!

he’ll ask you what you want for your birthday, or christmas, etc — and you always say you don’t want anything. but then a few days later, you’ll get texts like: “gold or silver?” “what size shoe are you?” “do you like clutches or purses more?”

he’s a simple guy, he’s not flashy, and unless it’s for a new phone or a new car he hates splurging. but when it’s with you, then it’s a whole other story.

loveeees showing you off to his family and friends

he’ll run late to lunch with his friends and say something like, “sorry, my girl was too clingy this morning.”

and they’ll all be fake disgusted but he loves it

oh and about pet names

mi mujer — my woman, when addressing you, it’s his go-to.

and bebé for when he’s speaking to you directly

— the launch.

pedri is famous, which means one way or another, the public will have to know about you guys.

pedri is generally a private guy so i think he’ll let it out slowly

which means … soft launch !

it starts with a goal dedication, he makes your initial with his hands and blows a kiss to the camera

and ppl are instantly like whoa. who was that for

and then it picks up

he posts holiday pics and there’s little bits and pieces of you in them

your hair creeping in a mirror selfie, your manicured hands on a steering wheel, your reflection off of a mirror in a restaurant

and now it gets real serious

fans catch him with a girl as his wallpaper but your face is covered by his hand holding the phone

the bomb drops when he posts a pic on his story. it’s a mirror selfie, you’re both dressed up, and you’re the one taking it. he’s standing behind you, one hand across your abdomen.

both your faces are cropped out. still, ppl are like yeah, he has a girl it’s confirmed

finally, he post a whole dump for you, probably for something special like your birthday and he lets the world know he’s yours !

— the spice.

remember when i said pedri was very gentle earlier?

well he can definitely pull a 180 in bed

i see him as more of a switch, and it depends on his mood

at the start of the relationship, when you were navigating what you both enjoyed in bed, you had to guide him a lot

and that’s when you found out he loves being praised, and asking you to praise him

“does that feel good?” “fuck, right there, yeah?” “like this?”

and when he’s not in control he doesn’t shy away from letting you know how good you’re making him feel, always in your ear

ok but let’s get into how he is when he’s in control

generally at first your sex was pretty vanilla, but you were so tired from work one day and just needed to let it all out

and pedri delivered — he had you bent over the couch, and when you thought you were done, he carried you to his room and made you watch in the mirror as you took him

it was unexpected. but not unwelcome

has a thing for when you tug his hair or leaves scratches on his back. it hurts, but it eggs him on further

and if he's really feeling confident, like if he just won a final or scored an important goal, his stamina is quadrupled. you're not stopping until your legs physically give out

always, always makes sure you get aftercare, even if he can barely stay awake himself

even if it's as simple as just getting you something to drink or standing next to you while you're in the bathroom afterwards, he just wants to let you know that he cares about you

gets super cocky the morning after. especially if he sees you limp a bit

you'll tell him off because you'll have to be at work or smth and he'd sit there with a grin and say, "you were the one who kept begging, harder, please—" (you'd throw a pillow in his face before he could continue)

but it's fine, the morning sex makes up for it ♡

[obvithe-bestsoph]

a woman's eyes.

masterlist requests word count: 1k

a/n: i actually love this sm! but i feel like it says eyes too many times 😭 genre: fluff warnings: none.

summary: on a trip back to tenerife with his childhood bestfriend, pedri realises his true feelings after a peaceful night walk home and a memory of something his mother would say to him as a little boy.

You had lived next door to Pedri since you were four.

With how tightly packed together the Canarian houses are, you used to be able to open your windows at night and talk through the narrow gap between the buildings, giggling and whispering about all sorts of silly things. Even when you became teenagers, you’d sneak out and sit on the footpath outside, or wander down to the beach and watch the stars while talking about anything and everything.

You were the girl he ran to when he first got called up for the national team. You were the one who would hug him tightly and wipe his tears after every one of his injuries. You were his partner for every school project. 

He was there when you got into your dream university that you never would’ve thought you even had a chance of making. He would share his ice cream with you without being asked to. He would help you put plasters on your scraped knees. He was the one who would always write the sweetest birthday cards, even back when half the words were misspelled and the writing was on a steady lean down the page. 

It’s always been just the two of you. And sometimes Fer. 

But on his 18th birthday, when you were both finally legal, you had your first drinks and almost kissed. Almost. It was after that night that lines started to blur between childhood best friends and something… else. 

However, shortly after that night, you both made the big move to Barcelona. Pedri to play for his dream childhood club, you for university. Your new shared house, paid for by his, now rather large, paycheques, was almost immediately christened by your laughter filling the rooms, the smell of homecooking, and your new dog, Nilo’s, excited barks. 

Over Christmas break, they both flew back home to Tenerife for some proper croquettes, bananas, and sunshine. The two of you fell easily back into the rhythm of relaxing island life - walks to the beach, late nights staring up at the stars, music by the pool, and inside jokes that were started so many years ago that neither of you even remembers where they came from.

One evening, as the two of you are strolling back from a nice dinner at his parents’ restaurant, there is a comfortable silence between you. The warm, Canary seabreeze on your faces, the familiar smell of home, and the floating sound of laughter and chatter carried in the light wind. Your hands brushed slightly as you walked, and yours slipped into his warmer, bigger one. Pedri smiled.

When he had been a very little boy, no more than six, he had been sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging his small legs, while his mother made dinner, and she had told him something he never really forgot. 

“A woman’s eyes, mijo, are the window into her soul. They won’t lie to you, even if she does. Her eyes will tell you everything.”

And he remembers those words now, looking at you, really looking at you. 

Her eyes will tell you everything.

In the soft glow of the moonlight, your eyes were shining brightly as you talked, the corners crinkling slightly as your smile lit up your entire face. 

“You’re staring.” you laugh, cutting through his trance.

“There’s something on your face.” he muttered unconvincingly.

You walked quietly for the rest of the way home.

You didn’t think about much, but in that moment, he knew. He’d kind of known his whole life. The sound of your laugh, the way you would hit his arm when you found something a little too funny and couldn’t catch your breath, the way you played with your jewelry when you were nervous, he was in love.

Pedri walked home that night with your hand in his, his heart beating lighter, yet also faster, than it ever had.

A few days later, the two of you were lying in the sand on the golden beach, the sun slowly rising. Your head rested on his chest, tracing circles on his arm,

“Pedri?” you broke the silence.

“Hm?”

“Do you remember what your mamá used to say? About a woman’s eyes?”

He looked down at you slightly, smiling. “Sí. I do.”

“I thought it was the sweetest thing. And then I started wondering what people saw when they look at my eyes. Like, what if they saw something weird or boring?” you say softly, simply speaking your thoughts. 

Slowly, Pedri sat up, gently pulling you up with him so he could look into your eyes properly. 

“Y/N,” he said, fairly seriously, making you pay attention. “When I look into your eyes, I see… home. I see every stupid, cringy version of me I’ve ever been, and the fact that you loved all of them. I see someone who listens to me when I speak. Someone who sees me, not just my fame or money or looks.”

You blink, feeling rather flustered and pink. “That’s a lot for one pair of eyes.” 

He laughs slightly, “It’s not even close to everything.”

The air is quiet for a moment before he speaks again, “But there’s something else too.” “Yeah? What?” “Something that makes me want to kiss you.” 

You grin. And he does too. 

Your lips meet in the middle, and perhaps, that feeling is better than any teenage fantasy you had about him.

[psychemochanight]

Home.

When nothing threatens the earth, sometimes, heroes have time to rest.

Among the most powerful beings that exist, not only on Earth, but in the universe, one would think that such a warm, homey environment is impossible... But there they are, still in suit, but without heavy armor or weapons in their hands.

Among them, closely following any hero who does something interesting, is a little Robin, running through the corridors.

Today is a quiet, silent day... of readjustment.

Dick isn't talking, but he doesn't seem to need to when everyone understands what's on his mind even before he makes any signs to express it.

Superman carries him in his arms when he lifts him up to reach the tin of cookies that was supposedly hidden. The two laugh silently, stealing a cookie each, even though they both know they will be discovered.

Clark calls him sunshine, and Dick, barely showing his embarrassment, just smiles at him.

Barry carries him on his back as he runs all over the base. Dick doesn't make a sound out loud, but his amusement shows in his eyes, in his smile.

For Flash, Robin is a spark, and the boy takes the nickname easily.

Dinah smiles at the boy as he follows her everywhere, teaching him little tricks, light training to break up the quiet of the day, but knowing him well enough to know that he wouldn't want to sit still all day. Even as she makes her voice her strength, she lets Dick's silence complement her easily.

For Black Canary, Robin is her little bird.

Hal has fun making buildings for Robin to play in like a playground, the child does not seem tired even after doing hundreds of jumps and pirouettes. He didn't speak to him, but it wasn't necessary, he made himself perfectly understandable.

He can't help it, he laughs when the boy's cape gets tangled up in his jumps, it doesn't hinder him in any way, but now he looks like a cartoon representation of a shooting star. He thinks it suits him.

Diana, always happy to share time with her friends, and that at some point began to include Batman's little son, who looks at her with shining eyes, even in the tranquility of that day. An energy that never runs out, a flame that never goes out.

The little warrior that Diana has adopted as part of her people.

Batman doesn't show his emotions openly to anyone, but with some people, it's not necessary. One of those people is his little boy, who at some point decided he needed to stop running around and went straight to his lap while he worked.

Bruce doesn't need to say anything, just as Dick doesn't say anything. Still, he murmurs softly just so the child can hear:

"You're okay, chum?"

Dick nods, a little amused because he hasn't actually heard his name all day, but instead has heard the various nicknames all the heroes call him.

It is not until he is about to leave, because Batman has finished his work and they can return, listening again to the different names that everyone has given him, that he decides to give them the name that he uses himself for all of them.

With one hand still gripping Batman's cape, he uses his free hand to sign clearly.

"Home".

[jellieland]

"Well, that was fun!" says Jimmy.

"Oh, was it?" says Grian, grumpily. He's on top of the mountain, assessing the damage from Martyn's end crystal. It's blown up part of the bed shrine, which might actually be more of a loss than the twenty-two hearts of damage it did to him. "You did seem to be enjoying making me do completely ridiculous stuff, don't think I didn't notice that."

"It was pretty funny though," says Jimmy. "Remember when you got Cleo and Etho to spin in circles for no reason?"

"...Okay, that was pretty funny," Grian admits.

"Ooh, and when you got them to do the zombie dance," says Jimmy.

Grian shakes his head. "I can't believe no one said anything." He frowns at the place where the wolf spawner used to be.

"Yeah, pretty crazy right?" says Martyn.

Grian spins round and flinches back, letting out a shriek.

Martyn is leaning casually up against one of the trees, watching him. "Honestly Grian, I think maybe you need to reevaluate your life if Timmy controlling all your actions didn't set off any red flags with anyone," he says.

"You couldn't have let me know that was coming, Tim?" asks Grian, exasperated, staring up into the empty sky.

Jimmy is quiet for a moment longer than Grian expected. "Say hello to Martyn," he says.

"You know I don't have to do what you say anymore, right?" says Grian. "I'm fact, maybe I'll do the opposite of what you say."

"Hey, no!" cries Jimmy.

Martyn makes a quiet noise, and Grian's gaze snaps back to him. "Oh no, don't let me interrupt," he says airily.

Grian clears his throat. "...Hey, Martyn," he says awkwardly.

"Hello, Martyn," says Jimmy softly, as though Martyn will be able to hear him.

"Hello," says Martyn. He looks around, up into the sky. "Timmy still about, then?"

"Maybe," says Grian. "Why? I'm not about to pass notes for your tearful reunion, if that's what you're here for."

"Aww," says Jimmy. "Why not?"

"No," says Martyn. "You need to get rid of him."

"Hey!" cries Jimmy. "Wait, what-"

"Whatever this is," continues Martyn, "it needs to stop."

"It's not up to me," says Grian, narrowing his eyes. "I don't see what you're so upset about, though."

"You don't?" says Martyn, coolly. "Look at you. Like you're dragging his corpse around to parade before the entire server."

"I am not!" snaps Grian. "And frankly I resent the suggestion!"

"Oh yeah?" says Martyn. "What do you think you were doing, then?"

Grian glares at him. "A task!"

"Right, yeah, course." Martyn glares back. "And why'd you think the session was so calm, huh?"

Grian frowns, thrown off. "I- Wait, what?"

"What do you mean, what?" snaps Martyn. "You're the one who brought the canary back to haunt us!"

"Haunt me, you mean! And anyway, he didn't even die first this time, that was Lizzie."

"It's not just about dying first," says Martyn. "It's about what comes after. He dies, and then it all goes wrong. Everything falls apart."

"I don't know, dude, I'm doing alright." Grian shrugs.

"And then he comes back," continues Martyn pointedly, "and on a server full of reds and yellows, not a single person properly dies. You don't think that's weird?"

Grian considers, but not for long. "I don't know," He crosses his arms. "I think you're just twisting the narrative to suit what you think it should be."

"Oh, really?" Martyn scoffs. "And what does Jimmy think?"

Grian rolls his eyes. "Alright fine, Timmy, what do you think?"

There is silence.

"...Tim?" says Grian.

There is more silence.

"Well?" asks Martyn, eventually.

"I think he's gone," says Grian.

"Gone," says Martyn flatly.

"Yep," says Grian, suddenly nervous.

"Gone?" Martyn raises his voice. He looks up to glare at the clouds. "Are you serious?"

"Look," says Grian. "I don't know what you actually wanted to talk about, but-"

"Really? I had one person! One!" Martyn shouts at the sky. "And you took him, too? He was dead before! He was already dead, and then you gave him to someone else, and then you took him, again?!"

Grian shifts nervously. He's not entirely sure that Martyn's talking to him, but- "I didn't do it on purpose! It's a task, Martyn, come on! It's random chance!"

Martyn turns abruptly to look back at Grian. "It's not random." He says. His hand goes to his sword, and Grian suddenly feels rather unsafe. "It's not random. It's never random."

"Okay," says Grian, slowly inching back and away. That doesn't sound right, but it doesn't seem like the time to argue.

"You think this isn't planned?" snaps Martyn. "You think this isn't just more and more ways to mess with us? Over and over and over again?"

Grian think they mess with themselves pretty well already, but he isn't about to say that right now. He opens his mouth to respond, and-

"Grian?" Cleo's voice—oh, thank goodness. Cleo's voice carries up from the base below. "You alright up there?"

Martyn and Grian make eye contact.

"I'm good, Cleo! Could use some help, though, if you want to come up?" calls Grian.

"Kay, be there in a minute!" Cleo shouts.

Martyn narrows his eyes. "I'll see you at the end," he murmurs. "This won't last much longer."

"Probably not," Grian replies, just as quiet. "It never does."

Martyn turns to go.

Before he leaves, Grian sighs. "Jimmy told me to say hello," he says, some foolish sense of obligation forcing out the words.

Martyn pauses, but doesn't look back. After a moment, he vanishes into the trees.

Grian looks at the aftermath of the exploded end crystal. The broken shrine. The scars on his hands.

"It never does last," he says again. "Not when people do stuff like that."

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 17

Sorry to leave you on that cliffhanger. If I hadn't screwed up you would have only had to wait a week instead of two. But tada! The mysterious [REDACTED] from WIP Wednesday.

Steve recovers from his no good horrible bad day with the help of those who love him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

~

Steve raised his head and peeked out of the covers. “Eddie? How are you here?”

Eddie was at his side in an instant. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, stroking Steve’s hair. “The tour is over beautiful. It’s coming home day, did you forget?”

“Mr. Munson,” Bob said, moving away from the bed. “We were trying to get him up before you came back. But it was harder then we planned.”

“You did an admirable job,” Eddie assured him. He turned back to Steve. “Robin told me about what happened. I’m sorry, little Canary. I wish I could have protected you from that.”

Steve let out a little whimper.

“What’s your name?” he asked Rosa and when she supplied it, he said, “would you go a draw a bath for Steve? I don’t think he’s up for a shower.”

She hastened to do as he asked.

“Bob, go ring up the kitchen and have them prepare a light meal. Soup, salad, chicken that’s light on the sauce. Anything that wouldn’t hurt an already upset stomach.”

Bob nodded and moved over to the desk phone to do just that. Eddie carefully removed the blankets as they were sticking to Steve’s skin.

He picked him up and carried him to the bathroom where he stripped Steve of his underwear and socks and lowered him into the bath.

“You just stay there, and I’ll be right back to wash your hair, mmk?”

Steve nodded and dumped half the bottle of bubbles into the water causing Eddie to laugh.

Steve laid his head back on the rim of the bathtub with a sigh. He could feel the heat of the water seep into his bones and muscles as he relaxed for the first time since he was forcibly vacated from his job.

Eddie came back in a moment a later and knelt behind Steve’s head. He tipped Steve’s head forward as he poured water over his hair. Steve hissed as the warm water hit his head a shoulders.

“Is it too hot, sweetheart?” Eddie asked gently, stopping his pouring.

“No,” Steve assured him. “I just wasn’t expecting it. It felt good.”

He smiled and began pouring again, once Steve’s hair was completely wet, he added shampoo to his hands and scrubbed it through his hair. He rinsed out the shampoo and washed it again. He continued to do this until all the stickiness had been washed out of the hair. He grabbed the conditioner and ran it gently through Steve’s hair, massaging his scalp.

“You think you can scrub yourself while that sets, beautiful?” he asked, getting to his feet. “I need to go see about your dinner.”

Steve nodded and set to work doing just that. Eddie patted the edge of the tub and walked out, leaving him to finish cleaning himself off. The bubbles almost towered of the top of the water, making the work harder and more fun. He had built a tower of foam by the time the other man came back.

“Someone is having fun,” he huffed and Steve smiled for the first time in days. “Let’s get your hair rinsed and you toweled off. Your friends have gone for now, but they promised to be back after you eat.”

“Okay.”

Once his hair had been rinsed out, he got out of the tub and toweled off, slipping on the yellow frilly robe Eddie had got for him the day he met Robin. He buried his nose into the collar and breathed in the scent of lavender soap that Rosa always used when doing his laundry.

He walked out of the bathroom to find that his bedding had been replaced and the floors cleaned. The carpet was still damp in places where it had been scrubbed.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered going over to sit on the chair.

“It’s all right, little Canary,” Eddie said gently stroking his wet hair. “You shouldn’t have had to go through that. I’m sorry that you had to at all.”

They ate in silence and then Steve’s friends came back in and Eddie slipped out so that Steve could talk to them.

“He’s a good man,” Rosa said firmly. “But I thought he was, eh? Primo?”

Bob grimaced. “That was just something to help keep Steve safe. He’s more...” he waved his hand back in forth, “novio? Ish?”

Steve snorted.

He wasn’t sure there was a term in Spanish for what Eddie was to him. Hell he wasn’t even sure there was one in English. Or at least not a polite one, anyway.

“You let him take care of you,” Rosa huffed, “and I won’t get some many grey hairs, yes?”

Steve burst out laughing. “If you wanted more money to pay your hairdresser, Rosa, you should have asked. I would have been tipping bigger.”

She swatted at him with her towel, but they were both smiling at each other, so Steve considered it a win.

Once they were satisfied he was going to be fine, they left him alone. He let out a shuddering breath and let out all his emotions that he had bottled up since the incident at work. He let out another breath and then another. He was amazed at the end that he wasn’t a sobbing mess.

Steve got up and called Robin.

“Steve!” she admonished. “God, I was starting to get really worried about you. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I just needed some time to process what happened. It was so messed up. I mean Tommy and I were assholes in school, but we wouldn’t have pulled something like that. That’s insane!”

“Yeah,” Robin said slowly like the word was dragged out of her. “I was thinking about that too. Like, yeah there was some bullying, but the usual shoving people against lockers and giving them wedgies, but this? This feels malicious in a way I have no words for.”

“It feels like something my dad would do.”

That statement hung between them for a moment and Robin’s breath stuttered at the weight of it.

“Shit, Steve,” she whispered. “I–I just never realized how bad things were you with your parents. I guess I pushed how bad it must have been for you under a rug in my head because I didn’t want to face how badly you’ve been treated. I’m sorry.”

Steve let out a long suffering sigh. It had always been the point of contention among all the kids, most of the adults, and yes even Robin, that they just didn’t understand what Steve was going through.

“I’m not sure it’ll make you feel better,” she said softly, “but according to your little nuggets, Hopper downplayed the argument he had with Joyce.”

Steve blinked for a moment as he tried to remember her saying something about that. The way she had first said it made it sound like that they merely had had a conversation and Joyce had agreed to back off.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she hedged. “So Will said that they had a really bad fight. Hop was saying that if she hadn’t been such a hard ass on you about the job, you wouldn’t have gotten assaulted twice. Joyce complained, saying that he had just told her who was bankrolling your stay, this would have never happened.”

Steve closed his eyes and flopped on the bed. “Shit.”

“It gets worse,” she said dryly.

“How could it possibly be worse than that?” he asked, suddenly sitting up.

“Hop told her that she would have behaved badly if she knew who had rescued you,” Robin continued. “She didn’t like that. She said that she didn’t care who was taking care of you as long as she had a name.”

Dread pooled in Steve’s stomach and began to twist. “He told her, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “and as predicted she flipped her shit. Hopper told her the ‘you waiting for Monty to get off work’ line so you could spend the night at his place. But know she thinks he’s your sugar daddy and blew up at Hop for thinking that was appropriate to have around Ellie.”

“She didn’t.”

“She did,” Robin said. “Hopper pointed out that not only had Eddie been on tour for three months he’d been taking care of you, but that marrying someone rich and letting them take care of you wasn’t the sin everyone made it out to be.”

Steve did a fist pump. “Score one for Hopper! That’s incredible.”

“Yeah,” she sighed wistfully. “And then he told her that he would trust you and Eddie before he trust you with anyone else in the whole god damned town!”

“Wait,” Steve said, suddenly frowning, “Will told you all this?”

“Ellie, too,” Robin said warily. “The whole thing was a shit show and right now Hop and Joyce aren’t talking.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” he muttered. “How are the rest of the kids taking it?”

“Like even Mike is on your side,” she huffed with a bitter laugh. “Which is really saying something. But I think the most surprising is that Jonathan is mad at her for the whole thing. Apparently he had been trying to warn her for awhile. He said he suspected it might be someone like Eddie who was helping you out. Which blew everyone else’s mind let me tell you.”

Steve chuckled, twirling the phone cord around his finger. “You’ve got to be careful, it’s always the silent types that surprise you.”

“Yeah, sure,” Robin scoffed. “But anyway, I’m glad you’re feeling better. You up for a BBF day?”

“Not to today,” Steve said with a sigh. “Maybe tomorrow, but I wanted to let you know that I was alive and that you didn’t have start planning a funeral or some shit.”

“Message received loud and clear,” she said cheerfully. “And thanks for the heads up. You have a nice pamper day and call me tomorrow, okay?”

“Roger that!” Steve said, a smile on his face. “Bye!” He hung up and flopped on the bed again. He stared up at the ceiling in awe. He never meant for Hopper and Joyce to blow up at each other like that. He just wanted her back off and now...

“I can hear you catastrophizing from here,” a warm voice said with a chuckle. “It’s not your fault with what happened between Hop and Joyce Byers. She shouldn’t have kept pushing like she did.”

Steve scrambled to wrap the robe around his waist as the belt had come loose during his talk with Robin, showing a lot more than was probably decent for company.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly coming over to sit in the chair across from the sofa. “I forgot you were coming back in everything that was going on.”

“That’s okay, little Canary,” Eddie said with soft smile. “You needed the comfort of your friends and I’m happy you’re up and doing better. You’ve got color back in your cheeks. You were so pale when I came in.”

Steve blushed adding more color to his cheeks.

“I’ve got a room across the hall from you,” he murmured, “so if you need anything, just come on over. I’ll be in most of the time, but I would like to visit family a little while I’m in town.”

“Oh gosh!” Steve gushed. “Of course. I’m not your keeper, you can come and go how ever you like. I’ll just do what I always do.”

“Which is what exactly?” he asked with a dimpled grin. Steve wanted to bite them. “I’ve been out of touch for awhile.”

“This and that,” he said with a shrug. “I draw some, I go see movies, I’ve been trying all sorts of hobbies and things. My latest is learning how to skateboard. One of the kids I used to babysit is teaching me.”

“That explains all the purchases at the skate shop then,” he said with a wink. He patted the seat next to him. “Come sit by me. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Steve chewed his lip for a moment and then nodded. He got up and slunk over to the sofa and sat down. He turned to face him and put his elbow on the back cushion, drawing his knee up under him.

“I’ve spoken to Hopper,” Eddie said, “and he agrees with me that you should remain here in this hotel room at least until the whole mall thing blows over. And by that I mean you’re free to go, but you’ll still be living at the hotel in this room, specifically.”

Steve let out a long shuddering breath. “That’s a relief honestly,” he said with sigh. “I like the people here. I feel safe here.”

“I’m glad,” Eddie said with a warm smile. “As for what happens in the future is going to be play by ear. The rest of the band in town visiting their families, too. In fact everyone but me got their own old rooms back.”

“Oops!” Steve said with a grimace. “No takesbackies!”

Eddie laughed, throwing back his head. “Never. I like how you decorated the place so I’m not going to force you to move.”

“Thanks for everything,” Steve murmured, bumping their shoulders together. “With the hotel room and the money and the car, my dad still hasn’t found out where I am. Which apparently is making family dinners very tense.”

“They think the bouncer...” Eddie said snapping his fingers, “what was his name?”

Steve smiled. “Monty.”

“Monty!” he crowed. “That’s it! So they think ole Monty has you stashed away somewhere?”

“Pretty much!”

“Well, I think once people start seeing me around town,” Eddie said seriously, “they might put two and two together. But as I said for the long term this is your home, until we can find you something safer.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Can I tell people who my mysterious benefactor is now?”

Eddie laughed again. “Yeah, sure, little Canary you can tell whoever you want.”

~

Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Tag List: CLOSED

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