#You know they would like this show. They'd be sobbing at for good...

[poke-is-a-dork]

Submission for that thespius fashion zine! The only thing I could think of for outfits I like was 'glinda's dress from the start of wicked' so they're doing a musical now

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-

Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.

"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"

Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.

No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.

They'd hear you though.

They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.

"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.

"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"

"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.

"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"

He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.

"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"

"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.

"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.

I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.

I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.

Need it now.

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 1 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: After getting attacked at the train station, you get rescued by a mysterious stranger. But is that really better?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, attempted rape, violence, murder, hints of blood and gore, trauma talk

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

He was a twisted motherfucker. And you knew it was your own fault you ended up in his claws. But how could you have possibly known? After all, at first he seemed like the good guy.

Looking back, it was entirely lost on you, how he managed to pull that off.

You remembered vividly how it felt when you sat on the cold bench in the waiting area of the underground train station, just like you did every evening of your life. Except for Sundays. Sundays were reserved for books and tv shows, to numb out your mind. Sundays were for you.

Your thoughts had been occupied with work and the feeling of your lower body slowly freezing off.

UTI, honey. You'll get UTI, if you sit on cold surfaces for too long. Your mothers voice took up a lot of space in your head, despite the fact that the last time you saw her was years ago. It still made you feel uneasy, but there was not much you could do. She was your mother, your inner voice, your compass. The part of your mind that still relied on her advice didn't know that she was long gone from your life and for a reason.

The first thing you noticed was a pair of cold hands reaching for you. Everything seemed to be cold that day. And God, you hated the cold.

His cold hands reached for you and before you even realized it, he had you pinned against the bench, trapped in-between him and the cold surface. You didn't have time to react at all. His one cold hand went up to cover your mouth, while his other cold hand cupped your breast through the fabric of your clothes.

Of course you struggled. It was a reflex. You tried to fight him off as soon as you realized what was going on. You struggled and squirmed, at some point you even tried to knee him in the crotch. But he straddled your waist, keeping you down with his weight and you knew where this was leading.

You hadn't even seen his face. His ugly ass blue hat with the dove on top was pulled down deep in his face and you couldn't make out his eyes. Not that it would have changed anything, but it made everything even worse for you.

But what was by far the worst thing, wasn't the cold. It wasn't even the fact that the station was empty except for the two of you. The worst thing was that no sound came out when you opened your mouth to scream. No sound at all.

Oh, how you had feared that. The dream came often, frequently even and it was a shitty feeling every time, wanting to scream but no sound came out. Your throat was tight, your tongue useless, your lips parted in a silent plea.

No.

This was the end, you were sure.

He'd violate you and if you were lucky, he'd leave you like that, on the cold bench, to fend for yourself. But that wasn't your biggest fear. Your biggest fear was what would happen if he didn't decide to leave you like that.

Maybe it'd be quick. A blade to your throat and within a few minutes everything would finally be over.

But what if not?

A knot built in your stomach as you saw your future right infront of you. Sold off to some twisted people, spending the rest of your life as a tool for someone else's pleasure, someones amusement, someones-

No, being violated wasn't your worst fear.

Being sold off was.

At some point people would believe you were dead and then they'd stop searching.

Tears streamed down your face and your body shook with suppressed sobs as he ripped at your shirt impatiently. Your lips parted in another desperate plea, but still, no sound.

You were done for. This was your end. You couldn't breathe.

Until, suddenly, you could again.

You let out a shuddery gasp when you felt his weight lift off of you. You were frozen solid after you backed away against the wall.

The man appeared out of nowhere, looking like someone from a novel or a movie.

His hair, which looked like it was normally slicked back neatly, hung into his face as he dragged the man off you, his expression twisted into something you couldn't read.

You took a deep breath. In. And out. In. And out.

You were safe. The police would come, the man would get arrested and he wouldn't ever touch you again. You would finally see his eyes and-

Oh God.

You winced outwardly when you heard the cracking sound and the man with the blue hat went limp in his arms. His unreadable expression turned into something resembling smugness.

You watched in horror as he tossed the lifeless body onto the train line. The train came on time. Of course it did. Punctuality was a good deed, especially here in South Korea.

What you witnessed then was probably the most gruesome scene of your life and you immediately knew you would never get that picture out of your head.

The sound of a gunshot forced you back to reality and you winced painfully. When you looked up, you saw him still pointing his gun at the security camera in the left corner of the area. On his face a subtle smile. The twisted smile of an avenging angel...or an obvious demon.

He pushed the gun back beneath his waistline and held out his hand to you.

The man who had almost destroyed your life was dead, scattered across the train station in blood and gore and the man who would undoubtedly destroy your life held out his hand to you.

You heard your mothers voice again, small and subtle.

Don't take his hand, honey. Something's most definitely wrong with him. I bet he's dangerous.

That was what made you take his hand in the end. However bad he was, he couldn't possibly be worse than her, could he?

A few minutes later, he made a point of passing about every car on the highway.

"Where do you live?" His voice was like silk. It was terrifying.

After what had happened, you felt like you had stopped breathing for a while and just now were you slowly getting back to it again.

No ins and outs. Straight up hyperventilating.

"I- I don't know." You gasped out truthfully.

He cocked a brow and briefly glanced at you from the drivers seat.

"You don't know?"

You frantically shook your head.

"I always take the same path. From the train station, take a turn left and- and-"

"Where are you from, sweet girl?" His voice sounded so calm, as sweet as honey. It was almost offensive, it was infuriating.

"Yorkshire." You whispered without missing a beat.

He hummed softly and briefly eyed you up and down. "England, hm? I should have recognized from your grace and beauty."

Was he fucking flirting with you? After he just...just murdered someone?

"What takes you to South Korea then? School? Uni?"

"Work." You murmured, not even recognizing your own voice. But at least by now it was back. Fucking betrayed by your own body, wonderful.

He raised his brows as he passed another car in a nerve-wrecking speed.

"Work? You look a little young to be that far from home, working here. Do you even speak the language?"

You subtly shook your head and he nodded.

"I work with...with computers." You mumbled absentmindedly. In your head, the scene from earlier kept repeating like a broken record. All that blood...

He hummed again. An odd sound. He radiated such a calm energy, it was truly confusing.

"You were awfully quiet earlier." He remarked.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat and looked out of the window.

"Ah. Sore spot. I get it."

At first you had thought he might be taking you to the police station. But then you realized; after he just butchered someone down without flinching? Probably not.

Still, you had hope. That was until you saw the city sign disappear in the rear view mirror. This wasn't good. Maybe for once you should have listened to your mothers voice.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked quietly.

He didn't respond, just kept his gaze firmly on the highway before you. You kept glancing at him for a while, before eventually you looked down at your hands. You hadn't even realized how much they were shaking. You wanted to ask many, many questions.

Who the hell are you?

Where are we going?

Why did you kill that man?

...Am I next?

But all you managed was a quiet, desperate exhale.

"Are you hungry?" He asked matter-of-factly.

You thought back to the massacre and immediately felt nauseous again, so you shook your head.

"Yes, you are. You need to keep your strength. Don't worry, sweet girl. We'll be home soon. I'll take good care of you."

The cold sweat that broke out on your body was nearly painful. You knew he wasn't normal, but you couldn't yet tell to which extent he was crazy.

Was he just a little twisted?

He was a killer after all. And now you were with him. In his car. Maybe, just maybe you could...

You glanced down at the doorhandle, when his calm voice made you jump.

"Don't even think about it, sweet girl. That won't work. I'm driving so fast, the second your body hits the pavement, your head will explode like a balloon."

The was that tightness in your throat again. But this time something was different. He had his hands on the steering wheel, not on you. You could still breathe.

Suddenly you saw yourself again, sold off. And damn it, suddenly exploding didn't sound so bad anymore.

You furiously tugged on the door handle, but it didn't work. It was locked. You kept trying it desperately, a soft passing your lips. After a few moments you realized it was pointless.

Slowly you tilted your face back towards him, only to realize he was already watching you. He was still smiling that subtle, not at all genuine, smile, but this time something was different. It was like a cold fury had taken possession of his eyes.

Maybe he wasn't a demon. Maybe he was the devil.

"That one was free. Because we don't know each other all too well yet." He said slowly. "But next time, I won't be so forgiving."

You looked back at the street ahead of you. And suddenly you realized something. Maybe he was worse than your mother.

God, what a terrifying thought.

About half an hour later, there you were. Home.

A great apartment complex, somewhere God knows where.

Suddenly it hit you. He hadn't covered your eyes. Not in the car, not infront of the house, not in the elevator.

You weren't leaving this place, at least not alive.

He led you inside one of the apartments. To your surprise, everything looked pretty normal, except for the part that it looked fairly expensive.

The walls were painted in a warm apricot color and the floor was made of dark wood.

He led you deeper inside and you realized, it was indeed a normal flat. The couch was made of black leather and there was a giant bookshelf, next to a big tv. For some reason the sight of the bookshelf brought you an odd sense of comfort.

How bad could a person be, if he was well-read?

Your mind soon wandered off to Hannibal Lecter and you dismissed the thought.

"Sit."

You sat down on the couch as instructed. All the while you were careful to keep your shoes off the cream colored carpet so you wouldn't get it dirty. It was odd how your mind worked.

He followed your gaze, his expression unreadable again.

Then he crouched down before you, so you were eye level with him. His eyes were of a pretty brown and soulless to the core. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He sized you up for a while, until eventually he sighed. An exaggerated, mocking sound.

"How do you like it here?"

Your insides twisted.

"It's pretty." You said in a choked whisper.

He laughed, a hearty, yet sarcastic sound.

"Look at you. Just look at you. Being my good girl already." He said slowly.

He leaned in so close that his breath tickled your ear. You forced yourself to stay still.

"The door can be opened only by me. The same goes for all windows. All the walls are soundproof. There's no way you can get out, until I want you to. Do you understand?" For the first time, his voice was low and you could grasp the subtle threat. He didn't pretend to be cheerful for once.

Or was it truly pretense?

You forced yourself to nod.

And just like that, his twisted smirk was back.

"Very well." He swiftly stood up. "What would you like for dinner?"

You slowly tilted up your head to read his expression. Read his intention. Read his character or the lack of it. But there was nothing. Nothing for you understandable, nothing that made any kind of sense.

"I'm not hungry." You whispered.

He pretended to pout, but eventually held out his hand to you again. A bittersweet deja-vu. As much as you wanted to refrain from taking it this time, you were far more afraid of what would happen if you refused him.

You hesitantly took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

"Maybe a nice, hot shower then?" He purred.

Of course. This time, it wouldn't be a faceless man with a blue hat to violate you, it would be him. The devil himself. You could already feel it, smell it and taste it. In the shower, on the bed, the kitchen counter, the floor and against the wall, until he grew tired of you.

That was why you were there. That had to be.

Before you could react, he had led you back to a spacious bathroom. Everything looked ridiculously clean and expensive. The freestanding tub was sparkling and the fluffy towels begging to dry you off.

He'd bend you over the tub. Maybe push your head under water. You knew he would. Just a minute more.

Instead, he gently ushered you inside.

"I'll get you something clean to sleep in." He said matter-of-factly. "I'll leave it infront of the door. Take as much time as you need."

With that, he disappeared and closed the door behind him. Your eyes widened almost comically. You then rushed forward to lock the door, which worked with ease. Next, the window. You tugged on the handle, desperate to open it. Not that it would have made any sense, you were too high above the street. But the thought of opening the window still filled you with hope. Like maybe, at least there would be one way out.

When nothing worked, you tried to break the glass. But you quickly noticed it was no normal glass. He hadn't lied. The windows provided no way out.

You slumped down below the sink and cried for a while. To no great surprise of yours, your tears ran dry quickly and you just sat in silence for a while.

You were trapped.

And you had no idea what you were here for.

After what felt like half an hour, you got up with shaky legs and decided to check if the door was truly locked. It was. You unlocked it and perked your head out, only to realize he had left you a bathrobe outside, as well as slippers and a nightdress. It was pretty basic, made of cotton. But it wasn't revealing or anything. The thought was oddly comforting. You picked up the clothes and disappeared back into the room, where you locked the door and sighed.

Your eyes settled on the tub and you thought, why the hell not?

You made quick process of it. You got rid of your sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the tub. The water filled up the tub rather quickly. At least the warmth of it provided some kind of comfort. You poured some scented lavender oil in and sunk deeper down.

You didn't dare close your eyes though. You were still sure he would come and take what he wanted. Mayhe he just wanted you to be clean first? He would come. He surely would.

But he didn't. Minutes passed, another half an hour. And he didn't come. You rinsed off and stepped out of the tub. The giant, fluffy towels felt heavenly against your skin. It was almost like you were in a hotel. Except for the murder and abduction part.

You slipped into the nightdress and the slippers and towel dried your long hair. Then you folded the towel neatly and placed it on the radiator. After a few long, deep breaths you carefully stepped outside. The cold air brought you back to reality as you followed back the same path he had led you earlier. You were surprised to find the living room empty, but you heard rustling sounds from the kitchen.

And then your gaze settled on the door.

It were less than five steps. You could make it. You could. If you were quick and took off the slippers, you could stealthily...

"Sweet girl?" That fake sweetness again, with the hint of underlying warning to it. You swallowed thickly and looked up. He stood in the doorway and looked at you with something resembling a warm smile.

"How was your bath?"

You stood frozen. Five small steps. If you thudded against the door loud enough, maybe someone might hear. Alert the police. Rescue-

"I asked you a question."

"Good." You whispered. And involuntarily added: "Thank you."

Good girl, purred your mothers voice.

But all he did was smile.

"Come, I made dinner. Just a few bites."

Your mind drifted back to Hannibal Lecter and you nearly spat. A careful glance into the kitchen and...

Pancakes. You gasped in relief.

He tilted his head to the side, smiling softly.

"You don't like pancakes?"

"I do." You whispered involuntarily.

They might be poisoned, but the fact that you hadn't eaten anything since lunch at work got the better of you. He slowly guided you into the kitchen and sat you down on one of the chairs, before he sat down opposite you.

He caught you staring down at the food suspiciously, which made him chuckle.

"They're not poisoned."

When you still didn't move, he rolled his eyes and took a bite off your fork. He chewed and swallowed with a smug expression.

"See?"

You reluctantly moved. They weren't bad. Pretty good even. You chewed carefully and never took your eyes off him. He did the same. And he still looked so unbelievably calm.

After you finished eating and downed a glass of water, you stared at him...expectantly.

His smirk widened.

"A curious little bird, aren't you?"

He narrowed his eyes somewhat and reached out to touch your cheek. "You cried."

To your surprise, when you flinched, he pulled his hand back and hummed softly.

"No need to cry, sweet girl. I'll take care of you. All you have to do is agree."

You already regretted asking. "Agree to what?"

He leaned back and bared his teeth in a predatory smile.

"Being mine."

Your brows furrowed in confusion and straight up stress. The calming effects of the bath were slowly fading away.

"What?"

"Mine, sweet girl. My girl."

"Your girl?" You asked somewhat incredulously, which was something he didn't seem to appreciate.

He reached out and cupped your face in his hand, his grip firm, but not painful. Yet. Your heart immediately skipped several beats.

"Oh, you will agree, sweet girl. The question is, will you agree willingly? Or do I have to make you?" He narrowed his eyes even further.

"Who are you, sweet girl?"

You stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Something told you that there was no right answer to that question.

And then, in a rare fit of courage, you said your name.

He took a long, deep breath and slowly dropped his hand from your chin.

"That's very tragic, sweet girl."

With a disapproving tsk he shook his head.

"Unfortunately, that was the wrong answer."

[miyaz6ki]

i might let you make me juno ✰

synopsis. literally the title, each are just small drabbles though :)! 1 kink i think they would have, as well as something they'd dislike(?), idrk what I'll put since I make these before I write 😭

the blade has spoken. i forgot to post yesterday :sob: rb for pt 2 ORR FOR MORE OF MY SUPER DUPER SICK CONTENT!!

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette

warnings. NSFW, mdni please!! sex :pensive:, although some are fluffier than others!, lwk hatefucking in alhaitham's (academic rivals to lovers), corruption kink (capitano's), vision play w diluc (not rly my main point), cockwarming,

albedo, who already has you placed right in front of him, legs spread as he kneels before you. although he glanced at the beauty in front of him, his eyes would tell a million words, the ones he couldn't speak. in general, whatever you were into, so was he.

the alchemist, delving his tongue into real delicacy for the first time, had himself on a chokehold, every now and then gazing back up to the figure he loved the most, pleasured by what he was doing. fuck he loved you so much. the taste had him hypnotized, he could probably do this forever.

every minute that passed, he felt himself falling in love over and over again. holding your thighs closer to the sides of his face, he could feel how much pleasure he gave.

alhaitham, who has you pinned to the wall, your chest pressed up against the surface. he held both your wrists in one of his hands, and the other on the left side of your waist. rocking his hips into yours, archons he was so fucking in love with the way you clenched against his member.

as much as he hates you, or says he does, it's really the opposite. he's never met anyone who could get him as mad as he is right now, not anyone could piss him off. he loved it so damn much.

he loved watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, no one else could get him boiling, but no one could ever be this deep inside you like he does, right? he better be. or he'll spend the next nights trying to prove himself right to you. so at least for once he'll win.

capitano loved to absolutely break you. corrupt you. he wanted to make sure you were indefinitely all his. and no one else's. he loved seeing those cute little tears of yours roll down your cheeks, whining about how you can't take it when both of you know you can!

you're all his, right? hopefully, and rightfully so, because no one as big as him would ever please your little hole now. but he supposes that something should make up for the pain you feel whenever he enters, it should be the pleasure, and somewhat comfort he can attempt to give.

so he lets you pick whatever position you wanted, and honestly, his favorite while letting you choose was whatever position he could see you the most in. especially when it includes your pretty little face. he wants to see how good he makes you feel <3

he always has his hands on you it feels so dirty. but childe has no excuse for himself, his only purpose is to make sure others know how to fuck off from what's only supposed to be his, it's not your fault, nor his, but he just has the indefinite need to show you off. whether it'd be how the marks all over your collarbone would be the prettiest!

he knows it hurts, but for now, just endure it, and he'll make sure to take care of it later. he makes sure to kiss it all away anyway, no matter how deep inside he might be, you're his reason to fight, his reason to live and come back home for another day with you.

oh well, he dreams of starting a nice little family with you. coming home to you and your two.. maybe three children? you'll both figure it out later. after he finishes inside you, his rough hands, which bruised your hips with small, little crescents ingrained into your skin. oh he's already planning the names!

wriothesley is generally turned on by any position he could see you in. similarly to capitano, but the thing is... he much prefers seeing how his cock imprints itself in your stomach.

sure your expressions are pretty cute, but nothing better than seeing you throw your head back, trying to ride his big member when you know you need help from him! all you have to do is say please...

if you didn't, he'd simply watch the show. watch you trying to take him all at once, and only hurting yourself more by trying to take what you can't (without his assistance). and in which he simply.. takes control himself, and helps you slowly sink onto his shaft instead. of course whole holding your hand!

diluc who uses his vision to his advantage, his hands already over your chest, as the temperature of his palm rises slowly, while letting you cockwarm him.

whether it's while he's writing, and signing away paperwork for the wine business, and his other hand over one of your nipples, or if all his attention is focused on you, watching how you react with a VIP seat, which would be taken literally as you sat on his dick.

a teasing touch from one of his fingers would rub against the spot where his cock was snug inside you, infused with a bit of warmth with the help of his vision.

neuvillette who's instincts get to him, as he watches your reaction through the pristine, crystal mirror in front of you both. it was a gift from his daughter figure—furina.

dear archons, please do forgive him for using her gift in such a.. filthy way, but nothing gets him going like seeing you stare at yourself be pleasured so well by none other than himself. his head fitting in the crook of your neck as he only turns himself on more, only reaching even deeper with his shaft inside you.

and wow he couldn't even wait for the main course tonight, for someone who's very knowledgeable on the taste of water from every region—he much preferred whatever substances you could make.

[one-green-frog]

Hellooooo

Hope you're having a good day :)

Platonic yandere batfam x male/gn reader who's trying to hie their powers and/or scars?

Frostbitten

Yan!Batfam x m!reader with ice powers, because i love iceman (x-men)

You were always good at hiding things. Even before all the training you received from the world's best detective. You lived a life of secrets even before you met your family, every day spent living as if the next moment your secret would be spilled. You learned to hide the scars, hide the accidents, you needed to, especially living in Gotham, the city where Batman ruled and one thing that Batman hated was metas

It is common knowledge that Batman hates them, hates their powers and hates them especially when they can't be controlled. So you hid them, never trying to learn how to control, just how to hide. Maybe that was your biggest mistake, but who could fault you, you just wanted to live a simple live in this god awful city.

And then you got adopted by Bruce Wayne, a dream come true. Suddenly you were thrust in this new life, filled with joy and laughter and a very loving family, you cherished every moment with them. But even more surprising was when they revealed their secret vigilante life. In that moment you didn't know whether to feel excited or scared. Sure, you looked up to Gotham’s vigilantes, almost everyone did, but you had a secret to hide, you had to keep it locked away and your biggest enemy is a family filled with detectives and a father that hates metas.

If you could hide your powers, hide the scars, then maybe everything would just be alright. Maybe they'd just dissappear and everything could be normal for once, a normal life with an almost normal family. They could never find out.

Because Bruce didn’t want those powers in Gotham. He never said it outright, not to your face, but he didn’t have to. You heard the way he talked about metas. Heard the tension in his voice when a case came in involving superhumans. How he preferred things predictable. Grounded. Human. Easy to controll

So you made yourself human.

Your family never asked why you always write long sleeves, even in some. Sure, the occasional "Aren't you hot? " was asked, but simply denying it sobbed that problem. Honestly you never were, you naturally run cold, probably because of you powers. The scars on your hands were a bit more difficult to hide, running around in gloves was just too obvious so when asked you simply told them it made you uncomfortable to talk about. Your family, every supportive and loving, stopped asking, not wanting to make you uneasy though their worried gazes never left you.

In all honesty, life was great, especially after you joined them on patrol. The training was hard, but worth it if it meant you could accompany them during the night. Everything was great.

Until it all fell apart.

It had been instinct, really.

The building was collapsing, a hostage still trapped inside, and you didn’t have time to wait. You didn’t even think. Just felt the fear spike in your chest—and then you were moving.

And freezing.

Everything in front of you exploded in jagged ice—brilliant, unnatural, alive. It lanced out from your arms, blooming outward, catching the falling beams, holding the wreckage suspended mid-air. You grabbed the girl, carried her out, felt her tremble in your arms—not from the danger, but from the cold that clung to your skin like a curse. You didn't even have time to feel relieved after exiting the flaming building, not when you saw the shocked faced of you family. In you adrenaline high you didn't think that they were just shocked, no, to you their faces obviously showed detestation. Especially Batman, clearly the guy with the no-meta-rule would absolutely loath you no matter if you are his kid or not.

You didn’t go home after that.

You couldn’t.

Not when you could still feel the way they looked at you.

Not angry. Not yet. But surprised. Confused. Like they didn’t know you anymore.

And if they didn’t know you—if they saw what you really were—what was stopping them from pushing you away?

You practically ripped the comms from you ear and ran. They could find you if they really wanted to, but you were hoping—praying—they wouldn’t.

Not until you could breathe again.

Not until the ice stopped crawling up your spine.

Not until the scars stopped burning.

---

You ended up in the park.

It was late. Empty.

Perfect since you wanted bo one to bother you.

You sat under the trees, hands shoved deep in your jacket, hood pulled low, hands shaking. You kept your gloves on, even though they were already half-frozen. They didn't protect you from anything, it was a way to hide the ice, hide it away so you couldn't see it. But you could feel the ache in your skin—those little jagged lines across your arms and hands, like old lightning strikes. Nerve damage, probably. But it wasn’t the nerves that hurt.

It was the memory.

Of growing up cold.

Of hurting people by accident.

Of locking yourself in closets to cry because your body didn’t know what to do with heat, and every time your emotions spiked, you left frostbite behind.

You used to think you’d grow out of it.

That was the lie that kept you going.

A nightmare that would someday finally end.

But now you were older. And it was worse than ever.

And now Bruce knew.

Your family knew.

And everything was ruined.

They were looking for you.

You should’ve expected that.

Dick was the first one you spotted—high above, on the buildings, doing that graceful acrobat silhouette thing he always did when he thought no one was watching. You could tell he was worried. He kept checking corners like he thought you'd vanish into shadows.

You pulled your hood lower.

Then you heard Red Hood.

Jason was stomping through the park like he’d kill the trees if they got in his way. Angry. Shaking. He was yelling your name now and then, but it wasn’t rage in his voice—it was panic. You’d never heard that tone from him before. Not even on the worst nights.

You turned away. Curled tighter. Pulled your knees to your chest and tried to stop the cold from spreading.

It was Tim who found you.

Of course it was.

He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t dramatic.

He just sat down beside you without a word. Quiet. Calm. Familiar.

You didn’t look at him.

Didn’t say anything.

But you felt the warmth of his presence, and you hated yourself for shivering closer to it.

He wrapped his cape, it did little to fight the cold.

Then he finally spoke

“Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked finally. Not accusing. Just soft. Tired.

You couldn’t answer.

You were too scared your voice would crack.

Too scared to speak the truth into the world.

Jason showed up next. Then Dick. Damian, sulking behind them, wrapped in one of Alfred’s scarves. They didn’t drag you home. They didn’t guilt you. They just sat. All around you. On the frozen grass. Wherever they could.

And Bruce came last.

Of course he did.

Silent. Steady.

You almost wanted him to yell. To be angry. To say you betrayed them. To banish you from the city.

It would’ve been easier.

But instead, he crouched in front of you, face unreadable.

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly.

That question shattered you.

Because you did.

God, you did.

But you didn’t think you deserved it.

They got you back to the manor somehow. You barely remember it.

Everything felt distant. Fuzzy. Like a dream you weren’t allowed to wake up from.

You ended up in your room, wrapped in three blankets and a hoodie you forgot you owned. Tim was fiddling with the thermostat. Dick was in the hallway talking to Alfred about heat pads, while Damian gathered all his pets to join you in bed.

Jason was closest.

He sat beside your bed, glaring at your hands like he wanted to fight them.

You didn’t mean to, but you flinched.

“I’m not mad,” he said, voice lower than usual. “Just… you’ve been hurting. For a long time. And you didn’t tell

The next day they finally saw you hands

They didn’t ask. But they were there when you woke up from a nightmare and ripped your gloves off in a panic. They saw the spiderweb of pale, cracked skin down your arms. The frostbitten patches. The places where the cold had eaten away at you from the inside.

You waited for them to recoil.

They didn’t.

Dick sat beside you and ran warm fingers along the worst lines, like they were battle scars, not damage, not a curse. He pressed his forehead to yours and said nothing.

Jason kissed the top of your head and told you that scars didn’t make you ugly.

Damian brought a salve that smelled like mint and helped rub it into your palms.

Tim found you a compression shirt designed for cryogenic trauma. Quietly handed it to you like it wasn’t a big deal.

Bruce didn’t say much.

He just held your hand one night when you were shaking too hard to sleep.

And didn’t let go.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, either from exhaustion or because of all the emotions going through you. That night you also realized that your family truly loved you. Bruce explained that he never could hate you or any meta, he was simply scared of what could happen to them or the people around them.

They loved you.

Not despite the cold—but including it.

The way the frost followed your footsteps. The way your tears came out as vapor in the air. The way you always wore gloves, even when it wasn’t needed.

They learned to warm your sheets before bed. Left heating pads in your seat at dinner. Gave you permission to feel—even when it made the walls frost over.

You were scared for so long.

But they never were.

You weren’t the monster.

Just a boy with ice in his blood, and too much fear in his heart.

And a family who would walk through a blizzard to bring you home.

Thank you for requesting, i absolutely loved writing this, i hope this is similar to how you imagined it! And sorry it took so long!

Taglist: @lilyalone

[elixrr]

their words comfort you. it doesn't matter if you're tough or strong, or if you're prone to the pain and the struggle, they'll comfort you no matter who or what you are.

they'll hold you tight like never before, whispering either comforting, loving, and careful words to you or true and genuine words of wisdom for you to take and use for later on. whether you sob in their arms or feel their embrace in silence— or if you spill everything you've been holding in, they'll take you into a kind hug and let you do what you're comfortable doing.

never do they force anything out of you, nor would they ever force you to be silent in their embrace. their comfort is for you, and while they hold you, it's their job to let you feel comfort in their arms. forcing you into anything simply wouldn't do any good for either of you.

though, if you wish to be left alone, they will let you alone— albeit after asking a few times if you're truly okay with the solitude. they want you to know that they care, and they'll show it by respecting you, your boundaries, and what you want and need.

it doesn't matter what struggle or struggles you've faced or that you're facing. they'll be there to comfort you when needed, and they'll give you the proper space when necessary. they care about you, and they'd also love for you to know that.

so, no matter what, there's always a place for you to go, whether that be in their arms or by a window in the solace of night where either storms or stars hang over the sky, they'll care about you, regardless of where they are or where you are.

– your faves / comfort characters.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT.

Grandma cat!reader. Who was a old women who got experimented on and turned into a smiling critter but like the caretaker of the smiling critters.

Often seen walking around with a scruffed smiling critter hanging from her mouth(somehow-) and overfeeding the smiling critters or children.

How would a saved dogday and (maybe) good catnap react to the player bringing them to readers containment room. (She was locked in before the Hour of Joy due to something and just stayed there)?

I just want to see them get some sort of parental love 🥹😖

- Marshmellow🤍

I swear ya'll are gonna make me cry with these requests /nm <3

.....

Dogday

In your old age, you didn't wanna retire from Playtime Co. and spend the remainder of your life laying around, waiting for your body and mind to deteriorate.

So instead you became one of the few willing volunteers for the Bigger Bodies Initiative, being turned into a Smiling Critter (which made you especially happy since your grandkids adored the toyline and cartoon show).

In the show, the gang mentioned a grandma character several times (albeit she was unseen) and with Catnap being recalled from all promo materials, Playtime Co. took creative liberties and made you the newest feline replacement, fitted with a cinnamon scent and pie necklace.

Your tagline was something like "The Smiling Critters take care of our orphans, but who takes care of them? Why, their Grandma [Y/n], of course! She's full of love and wisdom!"

True to that, you became the caretaker of the Critters and children, ensuring everyone's fed well and staying out of trouble.

The incident with Bron (Thomas/Experiment 1199) had scientists rethinking how they'd introduce willing experiments to those...well..less-than-willing.

So you had a supervised introduction to the SCs (with children also present to discourage them from reacting violently). You were even given a containment cell you could retreat to in case of emergencies.

Luckily, you never had to use that room--as they accepted you and began calling you "grandma" since day one.

Dogday, especially, got attached to you.

You called him "DD" and "Doggy-Dearie".

Being a bit taller than the rest of them allows you to pick them up by the scuff of their necks if they're being too rowdy (Kickin and Hoppy, especially).

Even so, you're very sweet to all of them, letting them snuggle up to you as you shared stories and made them food so they could keep up with the little ones.

All was well in the Playhouse up until the Hour of Joy of course.

But you were unaware of it since Catnap sabotaged your room's lock, keeping you trapped to lower the Smiling Critters' morale.

Dogday was 100% convinced you were dead.

However you survived long enough for the Employee's arrival years later, never knowing what happened to the factory..

After rescuing Dogday, they find your door and powered it up, allowing the two entry into the perfectly intact space within.

Your fur was matted and you looked sickly, but you still jump up upon seeing the state your dear "grandson" was in.

It devastated you.

"My word..Dog-Dearie.." Your heart shatters. "Your legs..where are they? Where is everyone?"

Something inside of him ultimately breaks as he realizes you were alive...and you were here all along.

"G-Grandma...! Oh...god..I-I thought you were--" He crawls away from the Employee and towards you, sobbing into your lap. "You were h-here..this whole time! I-I wanted to see you, but..C-Catnap..he.."

"Shh, shhh..I'm here now, my sweet pup. It's alright." You hush, stroking his ears and resting a paw on his back, before looking to the Employee. "You must be terribly confused..as am I.."

After explaining your role--and calming Dogday down--the two tell you about what's happened to the factory, and at first you can't believe it...

Until you all wander through the Playhouse and see the horrid state it's in, but they're confused as to why none of the mini Critters attack you.

Only then do you mention feeding them over the years through little vents and holes in the walls, keeping their hunger moderately satiated.

Dogday feels awful, and even more upset at Catnap for lying about your fate.

But still, you don't show any ill-will towards any of the Smiling Critters, even if one of them had betrayed you all.

Instead you just let Dogday cling to you as you escape together and try your best to keep up.

Catnap

Like the rest of the Smiling Critters, Catnap considered you family and often went to you for snacks and such.

Or if he needs a break from trying to put all the rowdy orphans to bed in Home Sweet Home. Only then is he given permission to see you.

He always liked curling up in your lap, purring while you stroke his fur and tell him a story (which is sometimes an event from your old human life, albeit you do accidentally confuse yourself since ofc you're not supposed to remember any details of your old life).

The Prototype sees this as a problem, as Theodore Catnap was getting a bit too comfortable with his life here and needed a reminder of his mission....and so he tells him the truth.

About how you not only worked at the factory until you reached retirement age...but you were also a willing participant in the experiments.

And suddenly, he couldn't look at you the same way anymore. Only with resentment.

It wasn't fair.

You got to lead a long and fulfilling life. Theodore barely got the chance to grow up and be a normal kid.

You had the procedure and associated risks explained to you clear as day. Theodore never had the luxury of being warned ahead of time before he was grabbed and put under the knife after recovering from the incident with the green grabpack hand.

All he wanted was to free the others, but he ended up becoming their warden instead.

He almost forgot all of that because of you.

He refuses your food now, and you worry for him when you see how skinny he becomes as the months pass.

But he's very cryptic in the way he talks to you, the other SCs, and the staff...so you didn't know for sure what you did to upset him so much.

"Catnap, dearie..you're skin and bones. Let me-"

"I know what you were, and what you've become...the Prototype told me so."

You don't know what to say. What could you say when he kept talking about this "Prototype" person?

Despite his hatred, the SCs were conditioned to love you regardless, and so before the Hour of Joy Catnap decided to sabotage the locks of your containment room.

That way, he wouldn't be tempted to kill you...and he'd spare you from the grief of what he ends up doing to the other SCs, including Dogday.

Years later, when the Employee finally knocks some sense into him after saving him from being sacrificed to the Prototype, he takes them to your room, believing you to be dead from starvation.

Instead, though, they break you out and he discovers you're very much alive.

And Catnap just breaks down, groveling and begging for your forgiveness.

You were the one who always tried to reach out and comfort him, giving him some relief from the misery of being trapped in this factory....and he pushed you away.

But you don't hate him for locking you up, realizing that he still cared about you after all this time. Even when the Prototype told him about your past.

He wanted to keep you safe.

That alone proves he had a heart, and you reassure him of that as he cuddles up to you for a little while.

Once he's calmer, you go with him, Dogday (assuming he was saved), and the Employee to meet with Poppy and Kissy--both of whom are relieved to see you alive

[womanofwords]

Frozen Heart (Part 4)

TW: hospitals, descriptions of injuries.

Alfred was consoling you in the hospital. "My dear, what have they done to you?" he murmured, as you sobbed tears of sorrow and pain. "You poor child, you didn't deserve this."

"Visiting time is over, Mr Pennyworth," a nurse said. "We can look after Y/N."

"I understand. I just hate to leave them alone," Alfred said. "Have a good night, nurse."

Alfred walked out of the ward you were on, taking a long route to keep in the hospital longer. That was when he walked by your siblings, and they were a mess. "Where's Y/N?" Tim demanded.

"Are you family?" an apathetic receptionist asked, blowing a bubble of gum right in his face.

"WHAT DO YOU CARE?" Tim screamed.

"I am their brother, and I demand you allow us to see them!" Damian screeched.

"I'll meet you at home," Alfred said, hoping none of them heard him.

They had.

The little idiots swooped down like vultures, screeching questions and accusations at him.

"You went without us?" Dick yelled.

"He ditched us on purpose!" Jason yelled. "Nobody notices the butler!"

"I bet he's telling them slanderous lies about how horrible we are!" Damian accused.

"How long have you known about Y/N's hospitalisation?" Bruce demanded to know.

Alfred dusted his suit off and stared his wards down. "In all honesty, I'm surprised you showed up. You could never make it to any of their school meetings or awards, but you deigned to appear here. Unfortunately, this is very bad timing. Visiting hours are over."

"Don't lie to us!" Stephanie insisted.

"I am not. And after your behaviour with the woman at the help desk, I have a hunch that you will escorted out by security." A small smirk tweaked the corners of Alfred's thin lips. "Anyway, like I said, I'll see you at home."

He didn't spare his wards a second glance, preferring to spend his time preparing the home for your return. He had to make sure something would suit your new needs, even if the people wouldn't.

Anyway, if he wanted to watch them get kicked out of the hospital, he'd search up their names to see if they'd ended up on TMZ. It would save him a phone call, at the very least.

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Taglist: @tinybrie, @bunniotomia, @kittzu, @justwannabecat, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @vanessa-boo.

[fandomfuntimem]

I had. A thought.

Disclamer: I'm still pretty new to dc comics (note clue where to start), and the most i know is from shows and movies.

But like. Batman using his dad skills (you can pry Bruce being a good dad from my cold, dead hands) to help young members of the Justice League.

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

Shazam, AKA Billy Batson, is 12 years old. He's young.

Imagine him showing up to the watch tower in his child form, super eepy, and all the adult heros who don't have kids are just hounding him about being in his child form (note: no clue who would do this. But from what i've seen, there are a few members who would). as well as giving him reports to fill out, meetings to go to, and in general just bothering and babying him.

He gets so overwhelmed and overstimulated. He just curls up on the floor and starts sobbing. No one knows how to handle it. They'd ask Superman since he's a father of two, but he's not at the tower.

Then enters Batman. Everyone is scare. What's he gonna say? How will he handle this? He looks down at Billy and his face just softens. He shoves everyone away, shooing them and telling them to back off. Gently, he drapes his cape over the sobbing child.

He starts talking to Billy in the softest voice.

"Whats wrong Billy? What happened?"

"I-its just- i-i-im so tired, a-a-and everyone's talking, and y-yelling. It's all so loooud!"

Batman just hums, "do you want to take a nap in my office? It's quiet there, and I have a pull out couch."

Billy just nods, and ever so gently Batman picks him up and cradles him. Carrying him to his office and glaring at the other adults.

Later, when asked where he learned to do that, he just says, "i have seven kids, and more kids who are practicly mine. I know an over tired and overwhelmed child when I see on."

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)

BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?

Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.

[npookie0]

Hi!! Ik this ask isnt really interesting but are u fine with doing hcs of the kc li's where reader suddenly disappears without a trace? There's no evidence of their existence, their apartment is completely empty, and every single message they ever sent was gone.

Gone Without a Trace

(bro throws the most interesting idea at me and calls it boring OKAY POOKIE SLAY)

Headcanons for Killer Chat! love interests when they're partner suddenly disappears from existence almost like they were never real

goreboy :

He would think that he went absolutely insane. That you were only a projection of his sick mind and that maybe it's just a consequence of is murders.

But the more he missed you and the realer you would feel to his mind after a whole the worse it would be for him. He'd be obsessed with tracking you down, finding you and at least asking why.

He wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that he let you slip away so easily, be gone from his life like he was nothing to you.

It would affect his kills, he'd me more ruthless as a way to cope. He would laugh, insane, then that would turn into sobbing.

He'd be hurt, in the same way Lucifer was when God took his wings.

Angelic :

It would be shocking to her, break her whole world. She'd feel like someone tore a part of her that she didn't even know could be torn away.

Angel is fast with mourning, or at least showing it to others, so to those who knew both you and her she'd look perfectly fine as always. But inside her mind it'd be a true hell on earth happening.

She would spend nights crying, trying to find even a small piece of you in her house or your old house, trying to hold onto that small piece even if it wasn't even completely yours.

She'd try to look for you, use any means necessary other than her channel. She can't look insane in the eyes of her eyes no matter what, but she will find you at any cost. Or she hopes she will.

You've truly made her heartsick. Broke her heart and tore it apart.

hitmeuppp :

They'd freak out. Ask the other killers if they know anything and when the answer is negative, they'd break completely.

Misaki would think that maybe you were a project of her dreams, that she saw you in a dream and it was so realistic it mixed with her normal life.

They'd ask V to help them, they'd use their own means to find you too. They would be hopeful. Hopeful to find you and learn the truth.

Misaki would lose weight and sleep. Trying to find you and cope with losing you were too heavy for one assassin to deal with at once.

And suddenly they really wished that it was all a dream.

K9 :

V would be devastated. He would feel like a disappointment. There has to be something, a hint. anything to explain your sudden disappearance. You couldn't be gone without a reason.

He'd try to find you by all means necessary, even if it meant that he'd have to bend his morals a bit. It didn't matter when it had to do with you.

He would go silent in the server, not interacting with anyone, especially when they mentioned your name. He has to find you. No one will go through to him, especially if they suggest giving up.

He would be a mess. Obsess on finding you, sleep or charity events could wait, you on the other way wouldn't wait, as you already proven to him by vanishing completely.

His world crumbled. Now he needs to find the one to rebuild it.

I could make better ones but I hope they're somewhat good

I love u all

Nate <3

[maybankslover]

i need a so long london or felt good about you blurb with the pic his friend posted. how would that turn out? 👀👀👀👀👀

so long, london- drew starkey

drew starkey x actress!singer!reader

blurb- don't come

warnings: angst, odessa, mention of infidelity.

summary: the request. this is situated in her previous tour before the breakup while she was still in obx.

series masterlist

she was fresh out of the shower after her third show in boston when she saw the instagram post her sister had sent her.

how many times did he need to humilliate her? how many times would he lie to her? how many times would he risk their relationship?

text

y/n 'sure thing, just a friend.'

y/n '[instagram post] [instagram post]

drew 'it's not what it seems'

drew 'aaron just wanted to take a picture like that'

y/n 'sure you couldn't say no to you friend right?'

y/n 'are you fucking kidding me drew?'

drew 'no baby, of course not.'

y/n 'and you didn't tell me she was going to rome, thought i wouldn't find out? as always.'

y/n 'you know what, don't come to nashville'

drew 'you can't be serious'

y/n has declined your call

drew 'I'm sorry alright, i should've told you and i shouldn't have taken that picture.'

y/n 'sure'

y/n 'I'm serious don't come.'

y/n 'good night.'

drew 'y/n/n c'mon baby.'

(8) missed calls from drew.

[private account post]

the puffy eyes the next morning, gave her crew the hint to not ask anything. the little notebook was by her side at the rehearsal and she seemed so off at the tampa show that the videos were even investigated by every fan.

everyone has seen the pictures, everyone knew.

she wrote more than six songs in less than 5 days. she couldn't stop crying, every moment she was alone she let all her feelings out.

that was the state he found her when he arrived to her hotel room in nashville, disobeying what she had told him.

"hey." he said when she opened the door.

"I told you not to come." her eyes seemed vague. "I don't want you here."

"I know but I saw the videos, we need to talk. you aren't answering my calls." he had never seen that look on her face in all the years they'd been together.

"because I don't want to talk to you, i don't want you to lie to my face. I don't want you here." she raised her voice a little and realised they were still with the door open and half way in the hallway so she pulled his shirt to make him come inside before closing the door. "I want you to go, go back to her, go back to them. I don't know just go."

"I won't go, I don't want to go back to them. I want to make things right with you." he looked into her eyes. "please bubble."

the nickname broke the wall she had built, the tears didn't wait to fall and she turned around.

"I don't believe you so go drew." her broken voice made him realise how much damage he had done.

he dropped what he had in his hands to wrap his arms around her figure and she fought against him, wanting to free herself until she gave up letting her head fall back to his shoulder.

the sobs escaping from her chest made him cry too.

"I love you, I'm so sorry." he kissed the side of her head repeatedly.

"why do you do it." she couldn't stop crying. "leave me or stop doing it. why do you do it."

her legs wanted to give up, he notices and moved both of them to the bed making her sit on his lap. hugging her with both arms.

she hated to be weak, to not be able to handle it but it was something she shouldn't be handling, it was something he shouldn't be doing.

"please drew leave, I have shows and we're practically over so make it easy for you and leave. I'm giving you an out" she said in hiccups.

"that's not what I want, it was a mistake to let him take that picture and it was a mistake to not tell you. I'm sorry." he said kissing her temple.

"it's not a mistake when you do it repeatedly." she whispered and he sighed, she was right. "when you keep humiliating me in public."

how much pain did he think she could take, how much sadness did he think she had in her.

"can you forgive me?" he said cupping her cheek trying to get her to look at him but her eyes didn't reach his.

she stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding yes.

she knew she shouldn't but how could she not forgive him. how could she not forgive the only anchor she had in her, her lifeline.

but for how long would he be her lifeline if he continued to hurt her, if he continued to be the one drowning her?

she couldn't stop herself from almost crying in one or two songs and her smile still didn't reached her eyes when she sang the love songs.

text [strangers group chat]

drew 'not going to the trip'

drew 'sorry'

drew 'staying with my girl until obx filming starts'

drew 'see y'all next time'

odessa 'can't be serious'

odessa 'we've been planning for months'

odessa 'you'll be with her everyday while filming'

friend 'c'mon she's right'

friend 'need to come'

friend two 'controlling bitch'

odessa 'just what i was about to say'

drew 'cut it'

drew 'not gonna change my mind'

drew 'enjoy it'

aaron '👍🏻'

"I'll be with you for the rest of your touring if that's alright" he says to her when she gets out of the shower.

"I thought you had a trip." she looks at him.

"cancelled, you're more important." the way her eyes lightened up made him feel even more guilty.

how much had he disappointed her for her to be happy at him choosing to stay with her?

taglist: @chenslucy @gillybear17 @imliterallyamirrorball @nichmeddar @gillybooboo @julczimozart @bellbottombabe @silkylovey @droppedyourhnd @jaydaaasworld @congratsloserr @carrerascameron @m1santhropicc @wearemadeofstardust0 @chiaraanatra @rlalliehayes @ijustwanttoreadlols @sunny1616 @theoraekenslover @isaidoop @ethanthequeefqueen @rafesdrew @loverdrew @frankoceanluvr11

[keehomania]

reader & rafe at midsummers/cameron family event and getting in trouble for basically fucking right there bc rafe doesn’t care who sees😩😩😩

put on a show — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, softish!bf!rafe, explicit unprotected sex, tit play, spanking, vouyerism, public sex, dirty talk — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: they'd give it all up to spend a second in rafe's shoes, with you on their arm, but some wishes do more harm than good

✧.*

oh, to have it all. to have everything you've ever wanted and so much more. to throw money at any problem in your way, to rely on everyone but yourself in order to have what you want. big villas, expensive champagne, fresh seafood, fast cars, pretty women, and parents who never gave a shit about their kids. that was the life you had dreamed of, and the one you were currently living.

on the ocean course of kiawah island, you seemed like nothing but a dazzling accessory on rafe's arm—pure eye candy, all eyes on you, none of the attention on him. everybody was looking at you. midsummer events were made to live in the moment, to rid yourself of stress in order to feel the wind in your hair and the cool summer breeze on your aching tan lines. unfortunately, they were also made to show off by, not saying, but showing—my cars are faster than yours, my mansion is cleaner, my pockets are heavier, and with you standing with someone like rafe? it was only fair to assume you were just a trophy he could show off.

that wasn't the case. nobody had to know it, it was nobody's business but yours amd rafe's. you were well aware of the reputation your boyfriend had gained, the infamous status he had earned through the consequences of his own actions. you had been aware of it from the moment you met him, but you did something for rafe that no one else had done for him. something that had unintentionally broken down his stone cold walls of confinement he had spent his life building, revealing a treasured part of him that no one got to see, but you. you gave him a chance.

you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to sit through his anger issues, his fits of rage. you'd be lying if you said you haven't ended up in tears, sobbing on the cold floor after an argument, after he had gone off the rails once more, but you never gave up on him. he would leave you in an attempt to seek solace on his own, to calm down. each time he was on his way back, he had expected you to be long gone, but you never were. you would always be there, waiting for him with opens arms.

it softened his heart, knowing that someone was willing to put up with his issues. he couldn't put up with his issues, yet you found a way. you found a way past the misconceptions people had of him—past his jealousy, his need to control and manipulate, his fits of pure aggression that often led to threats and punches. you met him at his worst and stuck it out with him. he was still flawed, slightly more than your average kook, but nothing you couldn't handle.

the sun's radiant rays practically bounced off your skin, illuminating your eyes as you gazed up to look at your boyfriend. he was so fond of the sight of you, eyes soaking in admiration as a smile graced his lips. you were so magnetic to him, so stunning. it was a popular opinion amongst both kooks and pogues, but nobody would have you the way rafe did. “how are you feeling?” you murmured, voice gentle as you gestured toward john b's group yards away from the two of you. rafe was tense, you could feel it even as you held his hand, but he shook his head. “it's not worth it.”

he had all the time in the world to go after the pogues, all he wanted to do right then and there, was to spend some time with you. nothing more nor less to it. although, during every event, there always came a pivotal point where rafe's feelings would get the best of him. he would try his best to stay strong, to refrain from causing anybody harm, but sometimes? he had to do this his way, just to make his point. this was one of those times.

“hot for an ex-pogue, that's what i think,” one voice from behind commented. the unfamiliar face was accompanied by two more unfamiliar faces, who also chimed in. “nah, rafe can't handle allat. she's a knockout.” you were a knockout, that was a common fact. rafe was no longer looking at you; his eyes were glued primarily on the group of guys sitting in the background, his blood boiling as he listened to their shared snickers and comments. you desperately called for his attention.

“rafey, come on,” you held onto his hand, tugging at it ever so gently as you frowned, face drenched in worry. if you weren't able to stop him, who knows what would happen? he was capable of just about anything. “don't do anything to them, it isn't worth it.” for a split second, he glanced back at you, face softening the second he saw how worried you really were.

truth be told, in that moment, rafe felt as if he was the most intelligent kook to ever live. every thought about how long he could beat those guys without security coming, and how fun it would be to peel back their nails for every apology they uttered, went right out the window. you were right, they weren't worth it. not in front of everyone, at least. you were worth it. you were the grand prize men spent drooling over the minute you showed up—the same one women spent sneering at. ever since you had gotten together, it had been nothing but the same condescending comments. it pained him as much as it angered him, knowing everyone wanted what was his.

“you're right,” he replied dryly, and you swore his eyes darkened. it was his turn to hold your hand, pulling gently as he turned on his heel. “come with me, princess.”

more confused than worried, you did as you were told, following his tracks as he pushed past all the eager hands and widening eyes glued to you, his grip tightening with every step. he led you down the halls and helped you down the stairs. as the crowd's laughter died down, you neared a secluded room down the hall. you couldn't figure out what it was, for whom it was, but you didn't bother to question rafe as he forced the door open, ushering you inside.

despite the closed door, there was a wide and tall array of windows—more windows than walls themselves, actually. rafe noticed this, muttering a quiet “fuck,” under his breath before leaning against one of the windows. you frowned, walking towards him as you watched everyone outside, analyzing the tiny selections of unaware bystanders. “rafey, what's wrong?” you whispered, the back of your hand caressing his cheek. “can't stand it anymore, (y/n),” he shook his head. “can't stand the way they all leer at you.”

his jealousy had been an ongoing, consistent problem for him all throughout his life. as a kid, he was jealous of the other kids with better shoes. as a teenager, he was jealous of the ones with loving fathers. during his young adult years, all he's been jealous of was the way people stared with watchful eyes, praying that someday you could be theirs instead of his.

“no one else will ever have me,” you assured him, stroking his hair as he gazed up at you. “not the way you have me. not now, not ever. i can promise you that much.”

he loved knowing, despite it all, that you were his. you were his, despite the stares. despite the ongoing, blood-boiling comments. despite the praises and the compliments and the sheer amount of people submitting to you every day, just for an ounce of attention, you were still his. he couldn't make anyone accept it, but he could definitely make them wish they were dead.

“rafey,” you didn't have time to finish, not a second longer. he stood up, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes fluttered, as if a common reflex, as you kissed him back just as sweetly. the kiss deepened, your mouths melting together as you stepped back, looking for leverage before your back hit the wall. his hands slid up your waist, right up your back as he pushed your arms up against the wall, kiss never coming to a halt.

the air was hot as you moaned quietly against his mouth, put in your place and unable to fight against his grip. he held your arms down with one arm, using the free one to explore every crevice of your body. he traced every curve, hands calloused, cold and rough against the bare, warm skin under your dress. “so perfect for me,” he gasped out, inches away from your mouth as he savored the drool from your lips. he couldn't control himself, rough palm squeezing your barely-clothed tits, thumbing each nipple as he tsked. “almost like you want everyone to stare, yeah?”

you moaned at the sensation, at a complete loss of words. he brought his knee up, sticking it in between your legs. a gasp left your mouth at the feeling of his rough knee, decorated by his dress pants, against your lacy underwear. you couldn't help but rut your hips against his knee, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and mouth open as you chased a friction of any kind. your boyfriend retracted his knee, a smirk playing on his lips as a whine of protest left his lips. “rafey, no—”

“why don't you answer my question first, yeah?” you frowned, eyes glossy as you stared at him. “don't want anyone else to watch, rafey. just you.”

he seemed pleased with your answer, hitching your dress up, the sight of your soaked lacy pink panties causing the strain in his pants to tighten. “i'm so glad to hear that, baby,” he cooed. before you could even smile, you were flipped toward the windows, hands pressed against the glass. “unfortunately, that won't be the case tonight.”

you couldn't even struggle with the position you were in, eyes widening as you realized what he was planning. “you aren't serious, are you?” all you earned at first was a dry laugh in return, but the sound of his pants dropping was enough for you. you caught the sight of him in the mirror, his collared shirt hanging just above his hips, v-line toned and his cock erect in his grey boxers. you swallowed at the sight, failing to catch his smirk. “there a problem, sweetheart?”

his rough hands traced your bare ass, fingers desperately pulling down your panties as he groaned quietly, watching you spread out and bent over for him. a string of slick connected your bare cunt and panties as he slid them down your thighs, and that was enough for him. he slid his own boxers down, sighing as the cool air hit his flushed, painfully hard dick. he brought his palm down against the flesh of your ass, a yelp leaving your mouth as the sting spread across your skin. he couldn't help but laugh.

“careful with those noises, princess,” he nodded toward the window. the one with a picture-perfect view of the inside catastrophe that was unfolding. all it took was for one person to turn around, and a nightmare would come true. “or, don't. let them see and hear how good i fuck you.”

that should have been your warning, because you had absolutely no time to react. not with him pushing into you, his tip squeezing between your tight, wet walls. you gasped, the foreign size intruding sending you into pre-oblivion. “shit, fuck, rafe, 's too big,” you barely croaked out. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy sucking him in raw ready to send him over the edge. he watched the people outside, waiting for someone to finally turn around and get a load of the sight he had especially prepared for them. he wanted them to see past their delusions, realize who you belonged to.

“pussy suckin' me in too good,” he grunted, hands gripping the sweet flesh of your ass as he slowly began to drill your sopping cunt. you moaned at the sudden change, taking in every vein and every inch that fucked into your cervix. “drippin' all over my cock, baby.” his words made you whine, back arching as he watched your cunt engulf his cock whole.

he stared at you wherever he got the chance. his eyes watched the way your back curved for him, the way your ass rippled with every thrust that came your way, the way he'd just look straight and watch your tits jump with every second he spent plowing your cunt. he watched the way your mouth hung open, a string of moans passing your glossy lips. “never gonna get fucked this good,” he growled, and it was a promise. he grabbed a fist full of your hair, twisting and pulling your head back as he leaned in, pressing his lips against your ear. you moaned at the way your scalp tingled, the way he went even deeper, the sound of your pussy squelching accompanying your moans. “let'm know who fucks you this good, princess.”

he didn't have to tell you twice. it was all too overwhelming, anyway. the way he bit your earlobe while pounding your sweet, abused pussy, hitting your sweet spot while his free hand toyed with your tits, twisting and flicking the nipples beforw dropping to your clit, giving generous rubs to your slick, sweet bundle of nerves. “rafe, please, i'm gonna cum,” you moaned, and all he could do was continue, rubbing faster and harder as he continued to pound into you, balls tightening as your cunt gave his dick a sweet, hard squeeze.

he grunted, and looked up and through the window. he watched carefully, eyes scanning the lawn before stopping once the gaze had been returned. he stopped, a devious smirk playing on his face the minute he realized who was staring. the guy from earlier, the one who was so eager to get any kind of reaction from you. he stood there, alongside one of his friends, jaw hanging and eyes wide in pure shock. he gestured with his eyes toward your face, making sure he watched the way your face scrunched up in pure pleasure as he continued to fuck your pussy open. he made sure all of it was seen.

“right behind you, princess.”

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 7

Part 6

The idea of sharing space on a tour bus was a little daunting, even though Steve had met the rest of the band. He was glad to see how big it was, and especially glad when Eddie led him to the back of the bus where the bedroom was. It had a bed big enough for two, but that was about it. It was more than enough for him.

"The boys will be bunking on the pull-outs out there", Eddie jabbed his thumb back to the rest of the bus.

They were setting out for the first destination on their tour, New York, which would take them about half a day to get to.

"Can't believe I get to go on tour with you. I feel like an actual groupie."

Eddie hopped onto the bed and laid on his side. "You gonna toss your underwear to me?", he grinned.

"Why would I? I already got on the band's bus", Steve smirked, hands on his hips. He glanced out the bedroom door to where the rest of the band was pretending not to be interested in their conversation.

“And they’re really okay with giving us the only actual bedroom on the bus?”

“Sweet thing, they insisted”, Eddie said, laying back to spread out on the sheets. “I think they’re enamored with you.”

Steve beamed as he sat on the edge of the bed, lasting only a few seconds before Eddie grabbed at him. Joy bubbled forth from Steve and he didn’t even mind if Jeff and the others heard Eddie macking on him right now.

“I’ve never been on a tour bus before.”

"Well allow me to give you the official welcome", Eddie said before rolling Steve onto his back and kissing at his neck. "We got hours to ourselves, baby."

"Oh, whatever will we do?", Steve sighed.

Eddie rose up on his hands and knees to look down at the gorgeous man under him. And just in time for the bus to lurch forward and make him fall over the side of the bed with a yelp. Grant came to the door.

"You guys, uh, want this closed?", he asked, ignoring Eddie crumpled on the floor.

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

For about the first hour, Steve watched the scenery go by the window and Eddie went over the basics of their itinerary. Starting from New York, they'd be cruising down the east coast.

"It's probably not as grand as the worldly traveling you've done before but I intend to show you a good time", Eddie promised, tracing the lines in Steve's palm.

"Actually, I haven't traveled all that much", Steve admitted. "When you're raising up a proper omega, you can't just let them loose unsupervised. I've been to California and Washington a couple of times with my parents but besides that..."

"Then I'm really gonna show you a good time."

"You can start right now. Bus isn't stopping for a few hours, right?" Steve pushed Eddie onto his back and rolled on top of him. In preparation for this trip both of them had been tested and been given a clean bill of health. Steve's cunt was already clenching at the thought of finally getting Eddie's bare knot. Of feeling his cum coating his insides.

There was something primal about it this time, as Eddie was fucking Steve. Not in any way that was ferocious or intense but in the setting and situation. Grant, Jeff, and Gareth had only great things to say about Steve, seemingly already accepting him as a pack omega. Being given the only private space on the bus, this room was like his own personal den, admittance to him and his omega only.

With his best friends just outside the door, surely knowing what they were getting up to even though there was plenty of noise to cover it, it was like they were sentinels guarding. How could his hindbrain think of this as anything less than a breeding session?

Steve was on his hands and knees, arching his back as Eddie thrust into him. He had started out trying to be quiet, but was sobbing now, begging Eddie not to stop.

Delirious with desire, Eddie started biting at the moles on Steve's back, leaving marks of his own. When he got to his neck, he put his teeth away but nudged at Steve's mating gland. A move so bold and unexpected, it had Steve crying out as he milked his cock. Eddie's teeth itched to sink down and make it official but he bit into Steve's shoulder instead, almost but not drawing blood.

He was still thinking about it hours later, when they arrived in New York and started preparing for the show. Tonight was just rehearsal and sound check for the real thing tomorrow night. Steve wanted to go and even pouted to get his way, but Eddie was certain he'd be bored and not so subtly told him about the hotel's spa.

After a massage, he went into the sauna and saw that there was another omega already inside.

"Did your alpha miss?", she asked the moment he sat down.

"Hm?"

She tapped the bite mark on his shoulder. "Did he miss?"

It wasn't proper to ask about bite marks in any capacity, only for the own of such marks to offer if they felt the information relevant.

"I don't have an alpha", Steve said, though it felt wrong to say.

"So just someone who's keeping you for now?", she asked.

Steve thought about it. Between the gifts and traveling and shopping, he was being wonderfully kept. "I suppose so."

"You must be new at this. I'm Heather. Can I offer you a bit of advice?"

"Steve and um, sure I guess."

"You can't let your generous sponsor bite you like that. The next one that comes won't like it. Might even give you something more permanent just to compete."

"You've had a lot of... 'sponsors'?", Steve asked.

"Mostly CEOs, an actor once. You?"

"He's a musician."

"Really? Anyone I know?", she looked intrigued.

Steve thought about how he'd known zilch about Corroded Coffin or Eddie before meeting him, but then remembered how his attention on the latest music trends was also next to nothing.

"You might. I'm not actually sure how popular they are." He hadn't seen the venue to know how many concert attendees to expect.

"Oh, well, you know what they say. If they haven't got a million than a half will do."

"Right", Steve gave a half-hearted laugh. It had him thinking for the first time if he'd be into Eddie at all were it not for the money. If all he had to offer was that one drink the night they met...

Steve thought about how they'd spent a decent part of the trip discussing chocolate chips versus chocolate chunks and how they'd gotten the rest of the band involved to the point where they had to make the bus stop at the nearest grocery store. It felt safe to say that even without the money lining his pockets, Eddie would have charmed him some kind of way.

That night, they got in bed early but were awakened by the sounds of the others coming into their hotel suite to make breakfast.

"And how did you know we weren't in the middle of coitus?", Eddie flicked a grape at Gareth.

"That was a chance we were willing to take", Jeff said.

Eddie was shirtless, walking around in Garfield patterned pajama pants. Steve had the decency to put one of the hotel's bathrobes.

"This is a CC tradition", Grant said. "Breakfast before the inaugural show of a tour. Then dinner after the last one."

"Everyone shows up, no exceptions", Gareth said.

"None?", Steve asked, accepting a mug of coffee that Eddie had made.

"One time Jeff got into a brawl right after the show. We had our dinner at the hospital", Eddie said.

"Well I'm honored to be a part of such a hallowed tradition", Steve smiled at the implication.

Day turned to night and they arrived at the venue. Steve looked out into the vast sea of empty seats and imagined them filled with screaming people. Eddie gave him a quick tour of backstage and even let him come up on the actual stage itself.

"Can't believe you actually perform like this, I could never."

"Oh I was born to entertain", Eddie grinned. And tonight, he planned on showing out. It would be Steve's first time, seeing and hearing them live. His blood pulsed as the hour got closer.

Show him my talents. Show him I'm worthy. Worthy to be his alpha.

Steve was all set up in the green room but of course had a pass that allowed him to roam backstage if he pleased. The boys also used the space to get ready for the show and he saw that they all had a pin with a horned red demonic head.

"What's this?", Steve asked, fiddling with the pin on Eddie's vest.

"Something from our old high school club. Keeps us from forgetting our roots."

"That's...really sweet." They'd known each other for so long. Steve was realizing how incredible it was that he'd been allowed into the fold like this.

The show finally started and at first, Steve watched a feed from the green room. He'd listened to a few songs but it was still a surprise to hear the way Jeff growled into the mic. It was hard for him to take his eyes off Eddie though. And soon, watching from a TV, no matter how clear the image was, wasn't enough. He put in the earplugs Eddie had given him and he left the green room.

Like a magnet, he went to the wings of the stage, still mostly hidden, but he could see everyone in the band from where he was standing. The crowd was a sea of energy and Eddie looked like there was no place he'd rather be. That is until he caught sight of Steve. His feet were frozen in place now but his hands kept moving against the guitar.

Steve bit his lip, thinking about how those same fingers moved on his body and made him sing in much the same way. Tonight he was going to give this man the ride of his life. His thighs rubbed together just thinking about it and Eddie's eyes caught the movement. Then his gaze met Steve and Steve just winked coyly.

The song ended and both of them were brought back to the present moment. Taking a breath, Steve took a step back and returned to the green room. It was a lot, being right there. He couldn't imagine how it must feel to actually be on stage. The concert went on and after thanking their fans for a stellar time, Corroded Coffin bid them good night. Eddie was the first one through the door which was good because Steve had been standing right behind it.

"Well?", he asked, wrapping his arms around the omega.

"You guys were great! Incredible!"

"Aw shucks, you're just sayin' that", Gareth smiled.

Steve was saying something in response, but Eddie only caught part of it. He was always keyed up after a good performance and needed something to help him burn off the extra energy. Usually in the form of an after-party or sex. He nuzzled at Steve's neck, holding him close. He did good. Steve thought he'd done good. No, he said great. Incredible. Steve had even come to see him with his own eyes. And he'd gotten turned on watching him play, Eddie knew it. He'd responded to his call.

"Are you, are you scenting me?", Steve asked quietly.

Eddie paused. They always carried each other's scent for a little while after sex, but this had been more purposeful. Eddie finally recognized the familiar itch under his skin and pushed Steve away, nearly throwing him at Grant.

"I gotta go", he said, leaving the room quick as lightning.

"What was that all about?", Steve asked, looking to the others. But they were just as confused as him.

Chrissy came in just about a minute after, her face like stone as she closed the door behind her. "The schedule's going to need some adjusting", she said. "Eddie just went into rut."

Part 8

Tag Team

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[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: You and JJ finally talk after three weeks

It's been three weeks since JJ and I talked. He went completely silent on everybody, but especially me after he got arrested. His dad stole something and JJ took the blame since he was with him. Luke is an asshole, but JJ still loves him. I had tried to ask the Pogues if they'd talked to him but he wasn't talking to any of us. I tried going to his house, but nobody was ever there. His phone was left at John B's place, so none of us knew where he was either.

I was down at the beach with Kie and Sarah. They have been trying their best to keep my mind off JJ and it works for the most part; but then I'm in my bed, alone and all I can think about is him. I tried my hardest to listen to what they were saying, but I couldn't focus on what was being said. "Hey, I think I'm going to head back home," I looked to Sarah and Kie, "I hate to be that person, but I'm just tired." I saw the sadness in their eyes.

They knew I was going to look around the island in hopes of finding that blonde mop of hair around town. "Hey, don't worry about it," Sarah told me pulling me into a much-needed hug. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, "Let us know if you find him," Kie said before joining the hug. I let go of them both and nod at them before walking back to my car. I got in and spent the next hour driving around, with no luck.

I pulled up to the park where JJ and I had our first date, knowing he would sometimes come here to get away. I'd checked almost every night, just hoping he would be there. We had been together for two and a half years now, but we've been friends since fourth grade. He was my best friend. I couldn't imagine a world without him in it, but that's how it felt. He wasn't anywhere to be found. I was losing hope at this point.

I turned off my car and got out, walking down the sidewalk. "JJ!" I yell, knowing it won't do any good. He wasn't here, he hasn't been here. I sit down on the bench and put my head in my hands, letting the tears fall and my sobs ring out into the silent night. I sit there for what feels like forever, but it's only been 13 minutes when I hear the grass crunch behind me.

I quickly stand up and turn around. I am met with those beautiful blue eyes I've been searching for. "Hey," JJ says under his breath looking down at his feet. I don't know what to say; on the one hand, I'm overjoyed to see him, but on the other hand, I'm so mad at him. I walk over to him and he looks at me with an unreadable face. "JJ, you haven't talked to me for over three weeks," I say to him, trying not to let the anger on my face show, "What the hell?"

"I know, and I'm sorry," he says looking deeply into my eyes, "I don't know what to say. It was stupid." I scoff at his response and roll my eyes, "JJ, stupid is underselling it a little, don't you think?" He looks back down at the ground again, "Listen, I couldn't face you. You're better off without me." I could hear the sadness in his voice, but I couldn't help it.

"JJ, don't fucking do that," I shout at him, "You do not get to decide if I'm better off without you. That is not your damn decision to make." He tries to talk but I quickly shut him down, "JJ, just listen to me. I love the everloving shit out of you and I always will, so don't ever think my life would be better without you in it, because I promise you it wouldn't." I felt a few tears fall down my face as he took his hat off and looked at me with sad eyes.

"These last three weeks have been fucking miserable without you J, ask literally anybody. I've been a shell of myself without you. Hell, if you want to break up, you just have to tell me, because I can handle that. What I can't handle is you disappearing from my life with no warning." I was sobbing at this point, "I thought you were dead and I'd never get to see your face again. Do you know how that feels? Thinking you'll never get to see the person you love the most again? It sucks."

I turn away from him, knowing if I stay facing him, I'll keep talking. I feel his arms wrap around me and pull me close to him. I rest my face against his forearm and close my eyes. We stay like that for a few minutes until I calm down. I turn to face him and place my palm against his face; wiping away the stray tears with my thumb. He places a kiss to my forehead before pulling me into a hug. "I'm so sorry," he says, "I know that's not enough, but that's all I have."

"I know," I say into his arms, "just please, I'm begging you, please don't ever shut us out again. This wasn't okay." I feel him pull away and hold onto my shoulders. I look up at him and he nods his head, "I won't ever shut you out again. I was just scared you would look at me differently." I gave him a confused look before responding, "Why would I look at you differently?"

I take his hand and walk back to my car, knowing the Pogues are going to want to see him too. "JJ, I would never think of you differently for what you did. As much as I can't stand your dad, I know you love him and would do anything for him. I'm surprised this didn't happen sooner; you taking the rap for him. I am surprised you shut us all out though. We've all been worried sick about you." I start the car and start driving to the Chateau, JJ agreeing to go see them.

"They're going to bite my head off," he says. I chuckle and nod my head. "I'm not expecting you to just all of a sudden be okay, but is there any chance you can forgive me?" JJ looks over at me. He looks hopeful, "JJ, this is something we need to talk about more," he nods his head at me and looks back at the road, "but for tonight, I'm just happy you're okay." I grab his hand and squeeze it.

It doesn't take long to get to the Chateau. We walk hand-in-hand into the run-down house to be met with shocked faces from everybody. JJ was immediately bombarded with hugs from everybody. It only took a second for him to be yelled at though for going AWOL. I knew we still needed to have a serious chat, but for right now, he was back with his family; who all happened to be yelling at him, but in a loving way.

I kinda sorta hate this, but it is what it is. Thanks, writer's block and generalized anxiety:) This is also shorter than my normal, so I might go back and edit it once my brain starts working properly again...

[triptychcryptid]

O'Sadley's, sometime in the early 90's:

Stan H512'12 at the bar with a drink in his hand, smooth-talking the bartender who just mentioned it's her last day.

-Anti-Ford walks in and spots Stan- "Hey Stan! Good to see ya!"

-Stan turns around as Anti walks up to him with a friendly smile. Gruffly- "Hey man."

Anti: "What are you doing here? You doing okay? You seem upset."

Stan: -scoffs- "Upset? Nah, I'm fine, man. What, somethin' needs to be wrong for me to get a drink? Man can't just go into a bar on a Friday night and hit on the bartender?"

9 drinks later

Stan: -face down on the bartop, sobbing while Anti-Ford sits next to him with an arm around him- "-An' then that fucker took off my fingertip to get me to let go of him, and he LEF' ME TO DIE! My own brother! " -holds up his hand so Anti can see the missing fingertip, except that Stan's friend Saoirse already fixed it for him, so there's nothing to see-

Anti: -in a soothing tone- "Hey, buddy, I know. It's okay, you're not alone."

Stan: -still sobbing as a different bartender walks in, switching out with the other one- "An' I ended up on that stupid ass dinosaur planet and almost got eaten like 50 times!"

Anti: "That must have been terrifying! Big hugs, let it out."

Bartender: -sighs and goes to the bar phone, presses the 3rd speed dial button and waits. After a minute: "Hey, yeah, it's Matt. -pause- Yeah, again. -pause- 10. -pause- Yeah, it was fuckin' Nicole. It's ALWAYS Nicole. I never let him drink that much. -pause- No, Anti's here with him. He's scaring off my other customers, though, get him out of here. -pause- Yeah, okay, thanks." -To Anti-Ford and Stan- "Saoirse's coming to get him."

Anti-Ford: "Hey, thanks, man. I appreciate you calling her, I think the poor guy's had enough."

About 20 minutes later, Stan's best friend Saoirse shows up and walks up to them

Saoirse: "Hey, Anti-Gravity! Thanks for babysitting him. Sorry you had to see this. He's such a baby when he has more than like 5 drinks."

Anti-Ford: -gives her a friendly wave and smile- "Hey! Oh, no worries. I deal with worse from my best friend." -meaning Jerk Ford- "He had a lot of feelings he needed to get out. I really don't mind."

Saoirse: -shakes Stan's shoulder- "Hey, Staniel Day-Lewis, let's go. You're a fucking mess and you look like shit."

Stan: -grumbles something unintelligible at her-

Saoirse: -grabs him around the waist, slings one of his arms around her shoulders and slides him out of his chair- "Nope, come on. Matt's losing business because of you and you're embarrassing yourself. And me. And Anti-Ford." Anti-Ford: "Oh, no, I really don't-"

Saoirse: -in a teasing sort of way, grinning at him- "Shut up. You're embarrassed, I'm embarrassed, we're all embarrassed. He's extremely embarrassing. Anyway, see ya later, Lisa Frank!" -waves to Anti-Ford and Matt as she drags Stan out of the bar to her ship.

I don't know, I had an idea where Stan gets shit-faced at O'Sadley's one night and Anti-Ford just happens to be there and lends a shoulder for Stan to hysterically sob on. XD This would be after they'd crossed paths a few times, so they were sorta on friendly terms, but Stan's still warming up to him as he's still very against Fords in general. But Anti is the most NOT like his Ford, so he trusts him more than the others. Also, this happens enough that the bar has Saoirse on speed dial. XD Also, if people don't know how to pronounce Saoirse's name, it's Sir-Shuh. Rhymes with Inertia. XD

Hopefully I did Anti-ford justice. Or...SOME justice. XD According to @tinfoil-jones, Anti's superpower is accurately translating emotional unavailability into it's deeper meaning. A.K.A, this is the 10th anniversary of Stan's arrival to the portal and he's got feelings about it, but refuses to admit that he's upset. XD

@localcanadiancreature62