#still greatly taken care of

[hiis-theme]

somewhere out there is an alternate timeline where toby was correct and people actually did hate spamton. could you imagine that. i have to imagine we wouldn't have gotten the spamton sweepstakes in that case which is crazy to think about given how much lore that gave us-

[tswwwit]

hi ik you don’t really do prompt rn but could we have some soft billdip hcs/drabble (or as soft as these two can get)? i’m a sucker for the way you write them and your works have genuinely helped me through the past weeks. even if not thank you for your works bc mmmm idk how you do it it’s just *chefs kiss* (:

Have some soft headcanons, then!

The first time Bill and Dipper took a bath together wasn't.... really a bath, per se. They'd probably run afoul of some supernatural skunk thing and had to soak in tomato juice, bickering about whose fault it was. The times they actually bathed together usually ended in water fights. Dipper half-drowned a couple times; Bill plays rough.

They've since settled down a bit! These days, the times they sink into one of Bill's hedonistic baths in his pyramid are pretty relaxing times to chat and flirt with each other.

And if Dipper's very sick or injured, Bill might even pick him up and set him in a warm bath, while taking charge of all the scrubbing down and rinsing of the pitiful mortal. While grumbling a little, but still!

Bill can cook. The trouble is getting him to stop adding ingredients that 'make things interesting', or go more along demonic culinary tastes - But he could, theoretically, make a decent meal. This is an uphill battle, since Bill's convinced following human recipes is boring and dumb. Dipper may even win it one day.

A fun fact that Dipper may or may not have learned by now is that Bill can purr! For the same reasons a cat might - calm, content, and relaxed.

However, Bill also hasn't done it in forever. For that kind of thing to happen, he'd have to be really content - to the point where let his guard down completely. Which I don't imagine he's done in basically.... eons? For all that he's had happy Party Times and pleased Winning Times and even Chill times, it's pretty impossible to ever really stop watching your back in the demon realm.

But say. After a great day. One where Bill's just won something, he's done something clever to pat himself on the back about, and he gets to chill with his husband in bed while Dipper rubs his back - just a calm, domestic-ish hangout where they're chilling - Dipper might feel and hear that rumbling start up. To his great surprise.

(And Bill's. He genuinely can't remember the last time that old instinct kicked in; it's unsettling.)

Here is what I imagine a triangle purring sounds like. It's more big-cat-like in the human body.

[sttoru]

‘the king of curses doesn’t like sharing. especially not when it comes to his partner.’

☀︎｜tags. heian era!sukuna x female reader. sfw/fluff ? ig. set in the heian era, duh. jealousy & possessive themes. size difference (reader gets referred to as small!). tried to be realistic w/ sukuna’s characterisation so. . . don’t be surprised to read about him killing somebody. therefore, mentions of blood. reader is implied to have a fear of blood (dw sukuna takes care of it teehee). reader gets called 'brat'. not beta read; this sucks ass.

you were taking a stroll outside of the estate, the hem of the floral kimono you’re wearing lightly dragging along behind you. the weather was perfect with not a single cloud in sight.

a pair of silent footsteps follow yours and you sigh. even though it was an usual occurrence, you still aren’t used to having one of sukuna’s servants at your side at all times. your over protective lover insisted that it was for your own ‘safety’. as if anything or anyone could harm you whilst you stay within the four walls of the estate far up in the mountains.

sukuna is continuously busy and thus decided to assign you a personal maid that accompanies you and takes care of your every need when he isn’t able to. well - looking at the bright side of things - at least she tries her best to hide her presence from you. she tags along silently and only speaks when spoken to.

you stop near a sakura tree and tilt your head back to admire its beauty. after a few minutes pass, you hear a different pair of footsteps walking up your way. you turn your head and see a familiar male servant approaching you with his head held low.

his hands were holding onto a platter with a cup of warm tea and a few of your favorite delicacies. the brown-haired man greets you politely. maybe a bit too politely as his voice carries a bright smile, “good afternoon, my lady.”

you return the greeting with a smile of your own. it was like you to treat the servants around the estate with kindness and care — a total opposite of the king of curses. you take a pastry from the platter and look back up at the man, “thank you for bringing me these. i appreciate it greatly.”

the way you treat the ones of lower status has always been an admirable trait of yours. it might have stirred some forbidden feelings for you in the heart of the male servant. he knows that it was impossible - he’d seen how easily sukuna gets rid of those who get too close to you.

but, he isn’t here. the king of curses isn’t present in the current moment. the brown-haired male shifts in his place a little, fingernails digging into the material of the plate he was holding. he was going to do it — no one could hold him back. not even the maid who stood a couple steps away.

“y-you look very beautiful, my lady.” the servant stutters and bows his head at you. you are surprised to hear such a flattering sentence leave the lips of the man in front of you. none of the men around you had dared to be this straightforward in ages. they all knew the possible consequences that such actions could bring after all.

perhaps it was due to the absent intimidating presence of your lover. still, you can’t help but feel grateful. you giggle softly, covering your mouth with your free hand, “thank you so much.”

the male servant gulps at the sound of your laughter. ‘oh, how lucky the king of curses is - to have such a beautiful woman at his side,’ the man thought to himself. he was sure that he could treat you better than the indifferent sukuna himself.

he hesitates to continue the conversation for a second. there was an urge deep within him; to ask if you’d like to have some tea with him in the dining area. it would be extremely bold and maybe way out of line considering that you’re taken.

but, the way you reacted to his earlier compliment gave him a huge confidence boost. one that would sooner or later send him to his grave.

“would you perhaps be interested in joining me for a drink, my lady?” the servant asks and anything that happens after that instant, is all but a blur.

you can’t process the next few moments as everything happens way too fast. the last thing you remember seeing, was the servant before you. a sudden gust of wind passes by and the sounds of quick slashes fill your ears. you couldn’t figure out anything else as your vision gets blocked by something. or rather - someone.

a familiar and large hand covers the back of your head. the scent of the person holding you is also oddly familiar—a certain scent that made a shiver run down your spine from both excitement and light fear.

“sukuna?” you guess and guess correctly. your voice was muffled due to your face being smushed against his torso. you didn’t yet understand what happened, so you try to pull your body away from the king of curses, only for his grip on you to tighten.

sukuna’s face was as emotionless as ever. his eyes look down at the pile of blood near your feet — what was once a human being had now turned into nothing but a pure crimson liquid.

“foolish. absolutely foolish.” the king of curses grumbles, his tone filled with disgust. he doesn’t soften the grip on your body for even a moment. one of his four arms holds you captive against him, his hand firmly yet somehow tenderly cradling your head just above his midriff, “it seems that i cannot leave this place for a single second.”

sukuna glances at your personal maid who had been bowing to him the moment he appeared out of thin air. she could feel his piercing gaze on her and knew exactly what to do without being told: to clean up the mess that stained the garden’s pavement.

“sukuna,” you try to move your head again, but was still restricted. you let out a small whine in response. you just wanted to see your lover after spending an entire day without him. any thoughts about that servant from earlier had long vanished, “i want to see you. can i?”

the request is an innocent one. there isn’t a visible change in sukuna's expression, but the way you asked him that was quite. . . endearing, if he were to explain it. he would comply if it wasn’t for the literal bloodbath he created. which he doesn’t want you to witness.

“not yet.” he replies and effortlessly uses one of his arms to pick your small body up. your lover notices how you try to steal a glimpse at the scene behind you while he moves you around in his embrace. he grunts and gently smacks the back of your head, “no peeking, brat. do as told.”

sukuna knows how much you hate the sight of blood. he's being considerate towards you — even if you do not realise that just yet. however, he also does not have a single regret about murdering that servant. it was to be expected. anybody who dares to make a move on his woman should suffer his wrath.

plus, it's not like you don't know about sukuna's ruthless actions. you’ve come to get used to them; more and more male servants keep dissappearing without a trace after they’ve been ‘too friendly' with you. it's easy to guess who’s behind those disappearances.

it doesn’t bother you in the slightest. as long as you don't see it happening and as long as you get to stay under sukuna's care and protection - you don’t mind.

“can i look now?” you huff after sukuna has carried you away from the garden. the king of curses clicks his tongue at your impatience.

he sighs deeply before allowing you back on your own two feet, “i do not understand why you’re so adamant on looking at me, but fine.”

you waste no time and immediately open your eyes. your gaze doesn’t wander off towards your surroundings—it instantly settles on sukuna. he looked the same as usual; there was not a single change about his appearance and yet you find yourself smiling at the sight of him.

“i missed you.” you hug your lover and feel him returning the gesture a few seconds later. he looks the other way and may seem indifferent to your display of affection, though the man was secretly grateful for it. for you in general.

“mhm.” sukuna lets out a small noise of acknowledgment and that is all you get out of him. he doesn’t have to say much; his body automatically does the talking. he squeezes your body against his — your small frame disappearing behind his beefy arms.

the king of curses doesn’t understand why, but the way your eyes sparkle when looking at him, intrigues him. sukuna had never seen another human look at him like that before after all. they all cower in fear; except for you. you don’t show a single ounce of fear. thus why you are something - someone - he must keep for himself.

he has and will never have any intent on sharing you with anyone. you’re his, for as long as he exists.

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: in which he realizes you were the one for him

warnings: none i think !

wc: 1100

Hoshina wasn't a player. He wasn't one to say yes to everyone who came his way nor was he one to lightly pursue just about anyone who slightly interested him— not to mention he didn’t fall easily to begin with. He was a busy man in a dangerous line of work so having a relationship simply didn’t make sense most of the time.

However, this is not to say he hasn’t had a few relationships here and there. He loved those he dated, he really did. He did not believe in dating for the fun of it nor did he believe in starting a relationship he knew would end at some point, but subconsciously he tried not to get attached. He kept his distance and locked away his heart to keep from getting hurt. Was it unfair? Well yes, but he was scared. Everyone has something that terrifies them greatly, this just so happened to be Hoshina’s.

Yet, recently he could tell that something was different with you. It had only been a few months since you started dating, but he feared the shift in his feelings. He knew what it was— he knew very well, but as soon as he admitted it, it would be over. There’d be no going back for him. He knew he was being rather irrational, he knew that if he sat down and confronted these emotions he’d realize they weren’t that big of a deal, but he couldn’t. He’s never been able to.

However, while fighting this kaiju, it became plain obvious that he was simply in denial. 

It upset him how important you were to him, but more than that it upset him that he knew he was important to you. You had made it so painfully clear that he meant the absolute world to you and that broke him to pieces every single time.

To him it was easy being alone— he just had to make sure his job was complete before he died. If he could ensure everyone’s safety or at least help Mina out, there was nothing more he wished for. Yet while fighting Kaiju no. 10 today, when he saw his life flash before his eyes, his immediate thought was of you. If he died you’d cry. And that alone was going to get him home alive.

He’d rather die than make you cry. Especially not alone.

As he stood up again, he could see his blood dripping from his wounds and immediately it made him chuckle. You’d cry anyways when you see the state he’s in. 

I’ll have to be around to wipe your tears at least, he said to you in his head.

He was incredibly lucky that you didn’t work on the battlefield, his heart simply would not be able to take it. But he did, and for you he’d have to get home safe. Even if no one else cared that much, not even himself, he knew you would.

All of a sudden, it was easy to admit. He was hopelessly in love with you, in a way he didn't know he was capable of. He wished that he would spend the rest of his life with you and he hoped you would spend the rest of yours with him. Perhaps he was just afraid and a little flustered to admit that he was important to someone, especially someone special to him too. He had seen how painful it was for those left behind, a little too often. 

But there was an easy solution to that, he’d just get back to you safe every time. He just won’t make you worry and he’ll be there for you. This was supposed to be a dilemma, something he thought he'd stress over, but in the moment he felt eerily relaxed, definitely not like he was fighting an identified grade kaiju. The rest of the fight was a blur, he couldn't remember much. His head was clear but the fatigue had taken over at that point, but before he knew it, the kaiju laid in front of him still.

He was faintly conscious as they rushed him into an ambulance and patched him up. Once he was properly treated and awake, they had warned him to stay put and take it easy, but all he wanted to do was see you.

As soon as he left his assigned room, he immediately bumped into you. You had been waiting to be let in to see him. You took one look at the way he was patched up and tears welled into your eyes. He could tell you didn't mean to, you didn't want to worry him.

“Please don't cry,” he said softly, wiping your tears away. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you. “I'm perfectly fine.”

“I'm not crying,” you said with a scowl on your face, but the way your voice cracked was not very convincing. “I'm so glad you're back.”

“Can't live without me?” he teased. He knew you couldn't live without him, but he couldn't either. Yet, now he even hated the thought of you living without him, let alone with someone else, so here he was. And here he always will be.

“Shut up,” you said. “You know I can't.”

He knew, but hearing you say that still made his heart flutter. He reached out with his right hand to grab your left and held it carefully. He leaned in to kiss you, but it was so much sloppier than the careful ones he usually gave you. Forgive him, he was terribly exhausted.

“I can't either,” he said, snuggling his face into your shoulder.

“You can't?” you asked, a little surprised. It broke his heart that he had possibly made you feel such way.

“Not for a second,” he said, still avoiding eye contact. “I'd rather die than wake up without you next to me, actually.”

You wouldn’t reply, so he brought his head back up to look at you.

“Oh, don't cry,” he said and chuckled a little, wiping your tears away as he kissed you again. “I didn't mean to make you cry.”

He hadn't let go of your hand and although he was gentle, he held it firmly. He didn't say anything, but he vowed to himself that he'd put a ring on it someday. He wasn't letting go of you ever.

You were the one for him.

[rqnarok]

GLORY BOX | old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: calling old man!logan daddy for the first time ever…

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. literally porn with no plot or whatsoever. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. stressed reader. established relationship (surprising). soft daddy dom!logan. sub!reader. daddy kink. dd/lg undertones. subspaces. pet names (princess, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. slight breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 1,3k 

All the work you’ve been having these past weeks is knocking you out, mentally and physically. The sight of never-ending paperwork before you makes you want to throw your dinner up to the desk. Although you know it’s not healthy to push yourself like this—you just couldn’t help it. Your anxieties are always eating you and forcing you to do this and that subconsciously. 

Luckily, Logan always notices when you’re tiring yourself to death. His love comes in many forms, one being taking care of you. He always takes care of you at the price of nothing. 

Well, maybe one or two things. 

Your obedience, is in fact, required. Your loyalty to him and only him is expected. Your submission is essential. 

Both of you find a simple way of living by holding onto those systems. You love to be taken care of and Logan loves to take care of you. It is the foundation of your and Logan’s relationship. It is enough. 

His presence is greatly felt as he watches you overworking yourself to a dreadful agitation, “Come on, sweets. Rest up for a bit.” 

“Can’t, Lo. ‘M still doing this.” Your head lulls lazily as the burden on your shoulders becomes overwhelming. Deadlines loom all over your mind, all over your brain like grey clouds before a storm. 

He just can’t take it anymore. The sight of his pretty baby all slouched down and defeated in the dim living room. “I’ll do all the work for ya’. C’mere, princess.”

And before you know it, or even before you register it—your head goes radio silent for a minute. All because of Logan.

“Little one.” Your paperworks on the desk are long abandoned as Logan tenderly whispers to your neck, to the skin he had plastered with many love bites and little hickeys. 

“Mhm—”

His cock is stuffed deep inside of your soaking pussy, stretching you up with his thick girth, and locking your figure to his with his strong biceps like glue.

This position, you on top of him, usually makes you tired and your thighs sore—but it’s different now because he’d taken a willingness to do all the work. I’ll do all the work for ya’. The sight of his girl—his gorgeous girl opening herself to him; letting yourself rest up a bit after all the sobs you had swallowed this entire week—electrify something inside him.

You love to be taken care of by Logan. 

“My pretty pillow princess, hm?” He mutters sweetly to your right ear, gently brushing your hair along the way. Your figure slumped into him, leaning your entire body weight onto him. You managed to nod lightly, lazily, and slowly, but still with desperation. 

“Yeah. My little girl. All mine.” His fingers reach your chin and nod your head with him. Slowly lifting his hips up and down, he makes his cock hits that spot deep inside you. When he talks to you like this—you just can’t help it. The more he babies you, the more you fall into subspace. 

Before you can’t stop yourself, you croak out a small breathy voice, “Daddy.” You sounded so feeble - you barely even recognized your own voice. 

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 

All this time, you call him lots of names, alright. Jokingly or in a serious manner: Grandpa, Lo, Logan, Old Man, Old Guy—but never that.

You feel Logan tense and how his cock twitches inside your walls. Then he slightly pulls you up and down on him, way deeper this time.

His rugged palms dug into your hips, rubbing circles there, “What was that, sweetheart?” The older man’s voice tremble slightly because fuck he didn’t think he could get harder. He knows he’s a bad bad bad man for enjoying shit like this. Young, delicate thing like you drooling over his cock.

You whimper into his shoulders and shy yourself away from his intense gaze—the one that made you clench your pussy around his girth. “What’d ya’ just call me, princess?” He repeats as his fingers squish your cheeks to look at him in the eyes. Bullseye.

There he went again. Making you fall deeper into your subspace you can’t even think. “Repeat whatcha’ say to your old man, baby.” Pushing just the right buttons. 

“Daddy…” you managed to get away from his gripping fingers and nuzzle your face deeper into his neck—your voice comes out needier than you expected.

Logan groans and you could feel his cock twitches again, “You wan’ more of Daddy’s cock? Hm?”

He managed to slip his thumb into your spit-slicked mouth and make you suck at the tip. “Mmhm. Please, Daddy—”

“Wan’ Daddy t’a stuff you up, little one?” He grunts, loving all this, you could tell. His thumb slips out of your lips and makes its way down down down and then his hand drifts to play with your breasts, squeezing and pinching your peaking nipples.

“Ah! Y-yes, Daddy.” You’re full-on sobbing now. You’d do anything. Only one word repeats in your dumbfounded mind now.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 

“‘Aight. Hold on t’me.” Logan lets out a dry chuckle and trails his hands from your breasts to the plush of your ass. “Daddy’ll fill you up.” He lifts you up and lets the tip of his cock slip from your clenching wet hole, barely even the tip. He scolds you softly when you start moving around in desperation, “Stay still for Daddy. Lemme’ do my job.” 

You cry out loudly when he thrusts himself back in, deep and hard. “Daddy!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sets a rapid pace. 

The sound of slapping flesh against flesh obscenely roams around the room as Logan pistons his hips up off the cushion, eagerly meeting your bouncing body above him. “T-there ya’ go, kiddo. Always grippin’ Daddy so fuckin’ tight.”  

Logan takes his right hand and press it down on your tummy, feeling his cock bulging through, "Ya' feel me here, kiddo?" And God, how could you not melt at that?

He pounds his large cock into your slicked pussy, chasing his high and yours. “Go ‘head play with your pouty clit.” Says Logan as he keeps bullying his way inside your heat. But your hands stay locked around his shoulders. You’re just too tired and he said he’d do all the work, right? 

Logan knows you’re close when he feels your toes curl on his thigh and your arms tightening around his neck—suffocating him with your presence and your cunt.

“Daddy,” you call out to him again, making grabby hands on his salt-and-pepper beard. A continuous line of DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddys in a loop and you’re so full of him, you feel him everywhere.

“Cream my fat cock, baby. Daddy’ll fill you up real nice.”  You try to tell him yes but it comes out of you broken and high-pitched.

“Daddy-” you can feel his big fingers circling your swollen button—doing all the work for you. It’s not even a second later until you babble that you’re coming, repeating it over and over in his ear. “‘M coming, Daddy—‘M-” 

Logan mutters a curse word as he feels your velvet walls squeezing his cock so tight and milking him dry. “Shit. Such a good little girl.” He coos at the sight before him, your shaking figure, coming down from your high, and rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure. 

He can’t help himself anymore—his pace becomes relentless, and he indulges his body forward closer to you, burying his face on your neck. “Fuck, princess.” You whimper at the burning feel of his untrimmed scruffy beard.

“Come.” 

Oh, you want to order him around now?

“Come, Daddy. Need your cum so bad, pleasepleasepleas—” 

Nevermind.

In your neck, he lets a roaring grunt as his cock twitches and swells inside of your dripping pussy. “Jesus Christ.” He huffs every time he spurts his release, his thrust going weaker and slower. Yet the pleasure that you deride him for is inescapable. No amount of power could take him away from you. He makes sure of that.

His breath finally comes back to him, and so does your senses, little by little. You whimper as you feel his cum gushing out of your hole, “Daddy-”. 

But he keeps his position still, his legs grounded to the floor—he just kisses your temple, then your cheeks, then your lips. “Shh. Daddy’s here. Daddy’ll take care of you.” He coos at your hair, kissing the crown of your head. 

He decided that he’d have you like this for the night. Seated atop of his muscular thighs—full of his seed and spent. 

Daddy always takes care of you.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x plus size!f!reader

genre: romance, flowershop au, jackson era, minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you own a small flower shop in Jackson, when Ellie comes to visit, your life inevitably becomes tangled with the man who cares for her; joel miller.

warnings: age gap, piv in the middle of a flower field, no one sees, praise kink, some angst because joel, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while and honestly, life has been kicking me in the gut lately with everything its got.

This originally was a commission, reader had a name and I've been working at it for months but sadly the person who commissioned be backed out last second saying they weren't interested anymore meaning I'm not getting paid for this work. Again, it's on me. Admittedly I've been slow on commissions due to my living situation and work and I should've taken half the payment upfront but trusting it was a joel fic I didn't really take extra precautions.

I decided to share it anyway, and the person who commissioned me said that I could. Any kind of writing has been hard for me to do lately and I really like how this one turned out. But since now I'm not getting paid for this work I decided to take out readers name and make some changes to the overall plot that I was given.

Sadly, I can't take any more commissions at the moment before finishing the ones I have left, but I'd be grateful for any kind of support you guys can give. I need to move out this summer (if I don't, I don't have a shadow of a doubt that my aunts will tell me to leave anyway) and I've been trying to save up as much as I can. Everything just has been a lot lately and I'm feeling anxious about my decisions and lost.

Again, any kind of support is greatly appreciated even tho I know I don't deserve it at this time:

my kofi

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

You unlock the door to your quaint flower shop, the antique bell that you found and Tommy fixed chiming softly in greeting. Stepping outside, you're immediately embraced by the warmth of the morning sun, its golden rays dancing playfully on your skin. The air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, a delicate blend of fresh blossoms and earthy notes that fills your lungs with every inhale.

Dressed in a flowing dress, you feel perfectly in tune with the season as you begin arranging the colorful array of flowers on display outside your shop. The fabric of your dress sways gently in the breeze, a soft symphony of movement that mirrors the graceful dance of the petals.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and tilt your face towards the sky, basking in the gentle caress of the sun's rays. Above you, the cerulean expanse is dotted with fluffy white clouds, their shapes shifting and morphing with each passing moment.

With practiced hands, you arrange the blooms with care, each stem finding its place in the intricate tapestry of colors and textures. The vibrant hues of the flowers contrast beautifully against the backdrop of the weathered brick walls of your shop, creating a scene that's both inviting and enchanting.

As you work, you can't help but smile at the thought of the joy these flowers will bring to those who pass by. It’s been hard adopting to a new and broken world, but ironically, you have found your passion. Something to make you eager to get up in the morning. Of course your heart still ached for those you had lost, the suffering, but working on flowers, something living and growing and adapting just like you managed to lighten the weight on your heart. Whether it's a simple bouquet to brighten someone's day or a thoughtful arrangement for a special occasion, your creations have a way of spreading happiness and light wherever they go.

With the last of the flowers arranged to perfection, you step back to admire your handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within you. With a contented sigh, you turn to head back inside, ready to greet the day with open arms and a heart full of gratitude.

That is, until, you hear a surprised gasp. 

“Holy shit—” 

Turning around at the sound, you're met with the sight of a familiar face. A young girl you've seen around town quite frequently. You haven’t officially met her yet, but you know her name: Ellie. 

Realizing that the young girl has never visited your flower shop before, you understand the source of her surprise. With a warm smile, you approach her and greet her by name. "You're Ellie, right? Tommy's niece?"

Ellie nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yeah, that's me! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I've just never been here before. The flowers are... fucking amazing—"

She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth, looking towards you apologetically. The gesture makes you laugh.

"I'm glad you like them," you reply, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction. "Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like."

Her eyes light up at the invitation, and she eagerly follows you inside the cozy flower shop. The atmosphere inside is warm and inviting, with shelves lined with potted plants and bouquets of flowers in various stages of bloom. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating the vibrant colors of the blooms.

As you lead Ellie further into the shop, you can't help but notice the curious glances she casts around, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. The air is filled with the subtle fragrance of flowers, a delicate scent that lingers in the air and adds to the charm of the space.

"So, Ellie," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence as you approach a display of freshly cut flowers, "Anything you like? I’d be more than happy to gift you some."

Ellie's eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around the shop. "Really? But there’s so many, how can I even choose?"

"Well, you're in luck," you reply, gesturing towards the colorful blooms around you. "I can just make you a bouquet of everything. Just pick out your favorites."

Ellie's gaze drifts over the display, her expression thoughtful as she considers your question. "Hmm, that's a tough one, they all look so fucking cool," she muses, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "How about sunflowers and. . . daisies? There's just something about them that feels... I don't know, hopeful, I guess."

You nod in understanding, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Sunflowers are a wonderful choice. They symbolize warmth, happiness, and positivity. Definitely a fitting choice for someone as vibrant as you, Ellie."

She grins at the compliment, "Thanks,. So, what about you? Do you have a favorite flower?"

“That’s a tough one, but I’d had to say daffodils. They just make me feel right at home. . . even though home has become a difficult word.” 

She doesn’t answer you, at least not in a way that you would expect. She nods and says,

"Let's add some daffodils to the mix too. If that’s okay.”

“If course it is. I said any flower didn’t I?”

With Ellie's choices in mind, you set to work gathering the blooms she selected, expertly arranging them into a vibrant bouquet. Your hands move with practiced precision, the gentle rustle of petals and stems filling the air as you weave the different flowers together.

Each blossom is a work of art in its own right, vibrant hues mingling together in a harmonious dance of colors and textures. Sunflowers, with their golden petals reaching towards the sky, stand tall and proud at the center of the bouquet, symbolizing warmth and happiness. Daisies, with their delicate white petals and cheerful yellow centers, add a touch of innocence and purity to the mix. And finally, the daffodils.

Beside you, Ellie watches with rapt attention, her eyes shining, "It's so pretty," she remarks, her voice filled with awe.

You smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at the sight of her delight. "Flowers have a way of bringing joy and beauty into our lives," you reply, your voice soft with reverence. "They remind us to appreciate the simple things and to find beauty in the world around us."

Finally, the bouquet is complete, a stunning masterpiece that radiates warmth and joy. You present it to Ellie with a flourish, a sense of satisfaction washing over you at the sight of her delighted expression.

"It's perfect," Ellie exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she admires the bouquet in her hands. "Thank you so much. This is amazing."

"It was my pleasure," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness at her words. "I'm glad you like it. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about flowers or need some help with anything, you know where to find me."

Ellie nods eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious. "Definitely. Thanks again. This means a lot."

As Ellie turns to leave, a sudden thought seems to strike her. She pauses, her hand on the door, before turning back to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Hey," she begins, a playful smile dancing on her lips, "do you need a flower assistant? I mean, I’d be nice to work here, and you seem really cool."

"Well, Ellie," you reply with a teasing grin, "If you're serious about helping out around here, I'd be more than happy to have you on board."

Ellie's eyes widen,. "Wait, really?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean it?"

You nod, your smile genuine as you reassure her. "Of course. I could use all the help I can get, especially during busy times. And besides, it'll be fun having you around. Consider yourself officially hired as my flower assistant, Ellie."

A grin spreads across Ellie's face, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of working alongside you in the flower shop. "Wow, I don't even know what to say," she admits, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. 

"No need to say anything," you grin. "Just don’t be late."

As Ellie nods, a sense of anticipation fills the air, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. With a shared sense of excitement and determination, you and Ellie set to work, ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures the future may hold for your blossoming partnership.

The next day unfolds with a golden hue, promising another beautiful day in Jackson. As you prepare for the day ahead, a sense of excitement tingles in the air knowing that you'll be mentoring Ellie, your newfound flower assistant. Ellie arrives earlier than you expected, her eyes oozing with sleep.

"Good morning, Ellie," you greet her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Ready for your first day?"

Ellie grins back, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I’m just not used to waking up so early."

With a chuckle, you lead her to the work table, where several potted plants await repotting. However, before diving into the day's tasks, Ellie's curiosity gets the better of her.

"How do you find all these flowers?" she asks. "I mean, with the infected and everything, it must be hard."

"I have a few spots outside of Jackson where I like to go to collect flowers. There's a field not too far from here that's brimming with all sorts of blooms."

Ellie's eyes widen and you can tell she's intrigued by the idea of venturing beyond the safety of the town's walls. "That sounds amazing," she breathes, her voice filled with wonder. "Do you go there often?"

You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips as you recall the countless trips you've taken to the flower field. "Yes, whenever I need to restock or find something special," you reply. "But I've also started growing some flowers myself. It's a work in progress, but it's been rewarding to see them bloom."

"That's so cool," she exclaims. "I'd love to see the field sometime, if you're up for it."

With a grin, you nod, "I'd be happy to take you," you reply. "But for now, let's focus on getting these plants repotted. We'll save the field trip for another day."

As if on cue, the shop door swings open, and a customer steps inside, a worn backpack slung over their shoulder. They approach the counter with a friendly smile, their eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display.

"Good morning," you greet them with a smile, your attention shifting to the customer. "How can I help you today?"

The customer returns your smile, reaching into their backpack to retrieve a small item wrapped in cloth. "I have something to trade," they explain, placing the item on the counter before you.

You unwrap the cloth to reveal a delicate piece of jewelry, a handmade necklace adorned with intricate beads and charms. It's a beautiful piece, clearly crafted with care and attention to detail.

Ellie watches with interest as you examine the necklace, her curiosity piqued by the exchange taking place before her eyes. "What are you trading for?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

You glance at Ellie with a smile, impressed by her keen observation. "Well, Ellie, sometimes customers trade items in exchange for flowers," you explain, turning back to the customer. "It's a way for them to get something they need while also supporting the shop. As for how I decide what the flowers are worth, it's based on a few factors—like the rarity of the flowers, the time and effort it took to grow them, and of course, their beauty."

With a nod, you accept the necklace, carefully placing it aside before selecting a beautiful bouquet of flowers to offer in exchange. As the customer leaves the shop, their smile brighter than before, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've made another person's day a little bit brighter.

“Ellie, I’m not sure me bargin’ into your new workplace is the best introduction,” Joel says.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, dragging Joel by the arm. “Besides, weren’t you the one grumbling about not liking me spending all my time with a stranger? What else was I fucking supposed to do?”

Joel lets out an elongated sigh. “Language.”

He can’t see it, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. The tiny, rundown flower shop soon comes into view and Joel can’t help but think of all the improvements he could make: the crooked step, the splintered door, the moss growing from the bottom of the woody exterior—

This shop won’t last next winter, he thinks with furrowed brows. And even though he’s been skeptical about Ellie spending all of her time here, he’s seen the improvement in her mood. Things just haven’t been the same since their return from the hospital, he couldn’t shake the distant feeling between him and her no matter how hard he tried. It had become something even he couldn’t fix.

But then, one day, she’d come home with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen, with a wide smile plastered across her young face. Then she mentioned the keeper of the shop. Ever since then, his interest had been piqued.

Approaching the shop, he notices a figure outside arranging flowers, your silhouette bathed in the warm morning sun. You appear younger than he anticipated, your beauty catching him off guard. The way your dress contours your curves adds to your allure, a sight unexpected yet captivating. A gentle breeze tousles your hair as you work, momentarily leaving him speechless.

Contrasting his hesitation, you bound up to the shop with your usual cheerfulness. "Hey there!" Ellie calls out. The woman turns at her greeting, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she sets down the flowers. "Good morning!" 

He hangs back, observing as Ellie effortlessly initiates a conversation with you. Your interaction flows with ease, suggesting a familiarity beyond your brief acquaintance.

While you chat, an unsettling feeling settles within him. There's an inexplicable pull towards the shop owner, despite his attempts to resist. Watching Ellie interact with you stirs a strange longing within him, leaving him more unsettled than before.

Before he can dwell on his thoughts further, Ellie snaps him out of it. "Joel, don’t be a stranger! Introduce yourself, she's the one I've been telling you about."

With a sigh, he steps forward, his approach cautious. As your eyes meet, a peculiar sense of recognition passes between you, as if you've crossed paths in another life.

"Hi," he manages to say, his voice gruff yet not devoid of warmth. "I'm Joel."

As he clasps your hand, a spark ignites between you, a connection unfurling with each passing moment.

“Joel?” you say slowly, as if tasting his name in your mouth. “Joel as in Tommy Miller’s brother?”

Your hand feels soft and delicate as it clasps his own, and he can't help but notice the subtle tremor in your fingers. It's a small detail, but it speaks volumes, hinting at a vulnerability that he hadn't expected from this beautiful stranger.

"Yeah, that's me," he responds with a nod, offering a friendly smile in return. "Tommy's my brother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joel. Ellie speaks very highly of you."

As you exchange pleasantries, he finds himself drawn to the warmth in your gaze, a warmth that seems to seep into his very soul. There's an openness about you, a genuineness that he finds both refreshing and disarming.

While you talk, he can't help but be captivated by the way your lips move, the gentle cadence of your voice. It's a strange sensation, this sudden fascination with a woman he's just met, but he finds himself unable to look away.

Your conversation is interrupted by Ellie's playful interruption, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from you, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving your side. But as they follow Ellie into the shop, he can't shake the feeling that meeting you has stirred something within him, something that he can't quite articulate.

Entering the shop, he can't help but notice even more things wrong– the creaky floorboards, the peeling paint, the flickering lights overhead. It's evident that the place is in dire need of renovations.

Despite the less-than-ideal surroundings, Ellie's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting swept up in the moment. She points out various flowers, their vibrant hues and delicate petals bringing a welcome burst of color to the dreary environment.

"These lilies are my absolute favorite," Ellie exclaims, thrusting a handful of flowers towards him with a mischievous grin.

He can't suppress a surprised sneeze as the pollen tickles his nose, and they both dissolve into laughter,and momentarily, all his concerns seem to fade away.

But just as they're catching their breath, you enter the room, your presence once again capturing his attention. There's something about you that intrigues him, a warmth and kindness that draws him in effortlessly.

A sheepish smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. You return the smile, your gaze gentle and understanding, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though you're the only two people in the room.

“Who helped you fix the place up?” Joel asks you as Ellie runs off to change the water of the vases. “

"Tommy actually," you explain. "He's been a tremendous help, especially with all the repairs."

Joel’s brows knit together and he ignores the way your smile falters as he speaks, “Well, leave it to my brother to do a shit job. This shop won’t last next winter.”

“O–Oh. . .” you hug yourself, thumbs moving along the contours of your arms. His heart sinks in, leave it to him to make someone feel bad.

“Not to say it can’t be fixed,” he continues abruptly. “I can help you out. Wouldn’t want Ellie’s new favorite spot to get buried under the snow.”

“Really?” you gasp, smile returning. “You would do that?”

“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just. . . I just wasn’t expecting such an offer thank you. It means the world to me.”

Suddenly Joel feels stiff from how deeply you stare at him, and then he realizes how close they are, only a breath away between their lips. He turns his head, grunting, “Don’t mention it,” a stuttered breath leaves him. “Really. Don’t.”

Your growing smile surprises him, as does your not backing away.

“You got it, Mr. Miller.”

Watching Joel work on fixing the roof of the shop, you can't help but feel a flutter of warmth stir within you. His muscles ripple with each movement, his arms bulging with strength as he lifts heavy beams and hammers nails into place. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, catching the sunlight and creating a halo of light around him.

You find yourself mesmerized by the sight, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him. His white tank top clings to his chest, damp with sweat, and the short-sleeved flannel he wears hangs open, exposing the tank top underneath. Every movement sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to your cheeks.

The sound of his grunts fills the air, low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through you that you can't quite explain. There's something primal about the way he works, a raw energy that draws you in and leaves you feeling breathless.

You watch as he reaches up to adjust a beam, his muscles flexing with the effort, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to run your hands over his warm, sweaty skin. The thought sends a shudder coursing through you, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered and embarrassed by the intensity of your thoughts.

But no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your gaze keeps drifting back to Joel, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And as you watch him work, you can't help but feel a strange sense of longing stir within.

But for now, all you can do is watch and admire from afar, content to bask in the warmth of Joel's presence as he works tirelessly to repair the roof of the shop. And as you watch him, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself with determination as you clutch the bowl of freshly picked black mulberries and raspberries in your hands. With a quick glance up at Joel, who is perched precariously on the ladder, you gather your courage and make your way outside.

"Hey, Joel!" you call out, your voice tinged with nervousness as you approach the ladder. "I brought you some fruit and iced tea. Thought you could use a break."

Joel looks down at you with a grateful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks. That sounds great."

As he descends the ladder, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. With each step he takes, you steal glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him.

But it's when he reaches the bottom of the ladder and stretches upwards to take the bowl of fruit from your hands that you feel your breath catch in your throat. The movement causes his tank top to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and you swallow thickly at the sight.

As Joel settles down to enjoy the fruit and iced tea, you find yourself drawn to the empty spot next to him on the porch. With a nervous glance in his direction, you take a seat beside him.

The warmth of the wooden porch beneath you contrasts with the cool breeze that sweeps through, and you can't help but feel a sense of calm settle over you as you sit beside Joel. The silence between you is comfortable, broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Lovely day, ain’t it,” Joel takes a bite of the freshly picked black mulberries, the deep purple juice stains his lips, a stark contrast against the ruggedness of his features, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

The juice glistens in the fading sunlight, tracing a vivid trail along his lips as he savors the sweetness of the fruit. Each movement of his jaw seems deliberate, each bite a study in pleasure as he indulges in the simple pleasure of the moment.

A soft breeze rustles through the trees, lifting strands of his hair and sending them dancing in the golden light. But your gaze remains fixed on his lips.

The silence and sight makes you light-headed and eager to say anything, no matter how idiotic it might be. 

“Aren't you a little old to be doing this much heavy lifting?” 

“Aren't you a little too young to be lookin’ at me like that?” 

Your shoulders rise, blood rushing to your head as you look down. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. Butterflies flutter madly within you, the wings tickling the insides of your stomach. You only swallow. “Your lips are stained from the mulberry.” 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

He takes another one, biting down with his lips, he finds your gaze. You watch a tiny drop go down his chin. The two of you are close. So incredibly close. It’s been like this since he started working on the shop. A pull that is too hard to ignore. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence. “Better finish up before the sun sets.” 

Joel stands and your heart breaks a little. You blink from where you’re sat, staring at him, yearning for him. 

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want you trying to find your way home in the dark.” 

“You know, I could’ve come here on my own. I always do.” 

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you have someone lookin’ after you.” 

“For someone to be known as a grump, you’re quite a softie.” 

“I’m leavin’.” 

“No—!”

Your fingers close around his arm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you find yourself frozen in place, your pulse quickening as you realize just how close you are to him.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart race even faster. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze. You notice the hints of a fading smile, “You were joking,” you say slowly, letting go of him. 

“That I was, wildflower,” he doesn’t move away and neither do you. Your breath catches within your throat, the moment stretching between your two like rubber. Before you can say anything Joel’s eyes flicker to something behind you and he smiles. “I think we’re here.” 

As you turn around, your heart skips a beat. The field of flowers stretches out endlessly, a sea of color and beauty that seems to go on forever. The grass has grown taller since the last time you were here, swaying gently in the breeze and creating a soft, rhythmic rustle that fills the air.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape and setting the flowers ablaze with color. Reds and yellows, blues and purples, a riot of hues that dance and swirl in the gentle breeze.

You take a step forward, the grass crunching beneath your feet as you walk further into the field. The scent of poppies and blue hyacinths fills your nostrils, sweet and intoxicating, and you can't help but close your eyes and breathe it in.

The wind sweeps across the field, sending waves of grass rippling in its wake. The sound is soothing, a gentle whisper that seems to carry you away on a tide of tranquility.

For a moment, you forget about everything else – the worries and the doubts, the uncertainties and the fears. All that matters is the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this place, and the beauty of being here with Joel. 

With a rush of emotion swirling within you, you turn to Joel, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. He's still standing close, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you lean forward and press your lips to his. At first, Joel is taken aback, his body stiffening in surprise. But then, he caves, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender rhythm.

His hands come up to cradle your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and open up for him eagerly, the taste of him feels like electricity shooting through you. Heat pools between your legs, Your breasts tingle with the mere thought of having his hands on them, nipples aching and hard. 

Joel breaks away briefly, then closes the distance again. Small hisses against your swollen lips over and over until neither of you can breathe. He hungers for it almost. And so do you. “Joel,” you whisper, eyes cloudy. “Please.” 

“Is that what you want, wildflower?” he drags his nose down the side of your cheek, facial hair scratching delightfully against the sensitive skin of your neck. “For me to fuck you here? Right out in the open?” his voice trembles. “Like animals?” 

“God, yes—” your insides clench. “I would want nothing more. Been thinking about you since the day I met you, your hands, your mouth, you as a whole.” 

His hands drop to your ass and he gives the tender flesh a strong squeeze, “You want me?” 

“I do.” 

You suddenly find yourself on the ground, the grass tickling your exposed legs and arms, the skirt of your dress rolled up to your waist. Joel’s weight is a welcoming comfort on top of you, another gust of warm wind blows. With a groan, he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress, exposing both your breasts. While holding one, he kisses the other, drawing the stiff nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, your body jolting with pleasure. The soaking mess between your legs grows. 

“Joel,” you moan, back arching. “Fuck—” 

He swirls the tip of his tongue around the nipple and grazes his teeth against it. Calloused fingers play with the other. Your mind is swimming in pleasure. He brings the skirt of your dress further up and traces his lips down the fabric, when you look down, you see him between your legs, his eyes darker than normal as he stares into your soul. The tips of his fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, asking for permission. 

You breathe out a yes, barely audible, but he nods and tugs the fabric down. When he latches his mouth on to you, the world stops. His mouth feels divine. His tongue delves between your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit. You shudder against him and he moans into you. The reverberations of the sound force a gasp out of you and you swear you feel him smiling. 

His fingers trace patterns along your thighs, teasing and stroking as his mouth works wonders between your legs. You're on the edge, the pleasure building up with each flick of his tongue. You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him where you need him the most.

Joel picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster, his fingers slipping inside of you. You can feel your body starting to tighten, the coil in your stomach about to unravel. You grip onto him tighter, your hips bucking against his mouth, and with one final flick of his tongue, you come undone.

You cry out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Joel continues to lightly lick and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're completely spent. He makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you deeply as you both catch your breath.

“That was…” you trail off, unable to find the right words for the mind-blowing experience you just had.

“Amazin’,” Joel finishes for you.

You nod, still a little breathless. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body against his. Joel's hands roam over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and you know that he needs release just as much as you do.

“Been so long since I’ve tasted somethin’ this sweet,” he rasps. “Thank you.” 

You hear the blood rushing in your ears, “You’re the sweet one,” you mumble, tenderly touching the scratchy surface of his cheek. “So sweet.” 

He smiles and as he kisses the curve of your palm, shuffles above you, starting to get up. A deep frown forms between your brows. “And where are you going?” you pout, wrapping your arms around him. You feel the outline of his length as he lowers himself once more, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.

“I thought you wanted to gather some flowers.” 

“Not yet,” you murmur, eyes glazed. “At least, not before feeling you inside me.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a whimpering breath, grinding himself against your bare cunt. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 

“Prove it.” 

His eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite describe. His breath stutters, then, without even looking, he unbuckles himself, never breaking eye contact. Joel’s hair ruffles with the wind, yet he doesn’t even blink. The head of his cock catches against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat. He fills you with one sloppy thrust, the length of him stretching you enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

“Joel—Oh my god—” 

“That’s it, good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Feels good?” 

Slack-jawed, you nod. He goes deeper. “Want you to feel me for weeks, wildflower. And I want you to think of me every time you come to this god—” thrust. “—damn” thrust. “—field.” 

You can only moan at his words, his hands grip your lovehandles, squeezing and pulling you closer to him every time he rocks forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin, he sucks. Your body convulses, shaking against him. 

Sparks ricochet through every limb of your body as you feel the heat pooling in your core. Joel moves his hand from your lower back to cup your breast, his fingers teasing and plucking at your nipple. The pleasure ricochets through your body, making you feel like you're on fire.

“Come for me, darlin’.” Joel growls into your ear, his voice rough and primal. “Come on my cock.”

His words send you over the edge, your body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly. The world blurs around you, all your senses consumed by the feeling of Joel's body against yours.

"Joel—" you moan, your voice lost in the wind as you reach your peak. 

He groans in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. After one final, deep thrust, he pulls out and spills over your stomach, his body shaking against yours. You both ride out the waves of pleasure until finally, you collapse against each other, panting and spent.

You lay in the flower field, a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty bodies. Joel's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Joel lifts his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "Me neither, wildflower. Me neither."

As the sun begins to set, you both lay there, entwined in each other's arms. The field has become a symbol of something more than beauty. And as long as those flowers bloom, you know your love for each other will continue to grow.

A week. 

A week without hearing from him, seeing him, touching him. 

A painful week. 

It’s almost as if he never existed. As if the moment in your favorite field was nothing but your imagination. The only reason why you know it's real is because Ellie still comes by every day, and despite knowing it’s impossible, you still feel him deep inside. It only heightens whenever you have to travel back to the field to gather flowers for the shop. 

You watch as Ellie places more daisies into a vase. She’s been her usual self, joking around, telling you about all the details of her life. It’s hard not to ask her about Joel and how he’s been. 

Some nasty part of your mind whispers words of discouragement, telling you he only wanted you for your body, for your charm, and got what he wanted. Your heart clenches. It might be true. You were young after all, emotional, broken. He’d already gone through all that, killed to stay alive, for loved ones, gone through grief—why would he want to take on another’s problems as well? 

“Hey, Ellie?” 

She turns to you, eyes slightly wide due to the rasp of your voice, “Yeah boss?” 

“Can you watch the shop for a second, I have something I need to do that I forgot about.” 

You don't wait for her nod as you exit the shop. You know he’s home. He has to be. 

Luckily it doesn’t take you long to reach their house, your knock is loud and swift. You know you’ve taken him by surprise by the expression when he opens the door. His mouth is slightly ajar, his brows knit together. 

“What are you—” 

“I came to talk,” you brush past him, heading inside. Joel lingers at the door but soon after follows you inside anyway. 

He sighs, “What do you want to talk about?” 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Us," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I need to know what happened, Joel. Why you've been avoiding me."

Joel's jaw clenches at your words, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I ain't good for you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You deserve better than someone like me."

You feel a surge of anger rising within you at his words, frustration bubbling up to the surface. "That's for me to decide, Joel," you say, your voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not some fragile flower that needs to be protected. I can make my own choices, and right now, I choose you."

Joel's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You don't know what you're saying," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a mess, a broken man with too much blood on his hands. You deserve someone who can give you the world, not someone who can barely keep himself together. You’re young. You still have so much ahead of you—"

“No! That’s not what I want. I want you, you’re the only person who’s made me feel like. . . like myself. . .before. And wanted.” 

Your voice begins to shake, you see the hesitation within his body, hod his hand slightly moves forward to hold you, to touch you, but he doesn’t. 

“I can’t do this to you,” his hands slide into his pockets, he gestures to the door. “Get out.” 

The blood freezes in your veins, your eyes grow wide, your chest constricts, “What?” 

“I said to get out,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Get out, please.” 

And you do. 

“You need to get your shit together.” 

“Language, Ellie, dammit.” 

She glares at him from across the table. It’s an early morning, earlier than he’d liked. He’s been feeling hallowed out ever since your visit. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the betrayal. He knew that he’d broken something when avoiding you, something tender and not so easily fixable. 

But what was he supposed to do? You were young, he didn’t want to trap you, didn’t want you to throw the best years of your life for an old man like him. 

Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head hurts. All he can think about is you, your body, how eager it was to take him, the delectable curves he couldn’t get enough of. 

He misses your taste on his tongue. 

“She’s miserable too, you know.” 

Joel’s eye snap wide open. “Who?” 

“You know who,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s definitely upset and so are you—Just fix it. Don’t be an asshole” 

He let’s out a sigh, she’s right. He needs to fix this somehow. Joel stares at Ellie, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn't realized just how much his actions had affected not only you but also Ellie. The weight of his own guilt settles heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the mess he's made.

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

He runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles making every movement feel heavy and strained. He knows he needs to make things right, to somehow find a way to mend the rift he's created between you and him.

But how? How could he possibly make things right after everything that's happened?

"I'll talk to her," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it."

Ellie nods in approval, her expression softening slightly as she looks at him. "Good," she says, her tone gentle. "Because I don't want to see either of you hurting anymore."

She was right and he knew it. 

“The shop’s closed today,” Ellie says as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know where she is.” 

But he did. He knew exactly where you would be. The place he tasted you, the place he felt your body against him. 

Joel's heart sinks as he approaches the flower field and sees you sitting there, your shoulders hunched over as you hug your knees to your chest. He can hear your sobs from a distance, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do or say. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pushes aside his doubts and makes his way towards you.

As he draws closer, he can see your whole body trembling with the force of your emotions. His heart aches at the sight, knowing that he's the cause of your pain. He kneels infront of you, gently touching your wrists.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Joel."

You startle at the sound of his voice, lifting your head to look at him with tear-streaked eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of surprise in your gaze, followed by a wave of raw emotion.

"Joel?" you choke out, your voice thick with tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't stand the thought of you hurtin’ like this."

"I thought... I thought you didn't care," You sniffle, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. 

Joel reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. "I care more than you know," he says. "I made a mistake, a big one, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to. .  .I didn’t think I deserved someone like you."

"I missed you," you admit softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Joel's heart clenches at your words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bury your face against his chest.

"I missed you too, wildflower," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

He hears the smile in your voice. 

“You already do.” 

[gtgbabie0]

Helloo can I request a sweet smut with aegon x reader where they've been apart for some time due to work and when they come together they just want to be intimate with one another

-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

{Aegon’s patience has been wearing thin, he soon reaches a breaking point}

!!-18//MDNI-!! Sorry this took so long I simply cannot catch a break, enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

Since the moment Aegon sat down on his council chair he wanted to leave, to abandon the whole damned meeting and let the fools figure it out for themselves. What was the point of even being there if they overlooked everything he said?— if they did not take him seriously?

It angered him beyond belief, the way they looked at him, the snide remarks that left a stupid pain in his chest no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He sits there bored and pissed off, spinning the marble against the wooden table as their words blend into one another making one big dull noise.

He feels silly, ignored, and he doesn’t enjoy it— so he leaves, slamming his fist onto the table so hard that it causes each of the council members to jump in their seats. The marble rolls off of the table, smashing onto the stone floor as the door shuts behind him with a loud thud.

Aegon bites the inside of his cheek, trying to cool his temper down before entering your bedchambers- the last thing he wanted to do was sour your day with his mood, but it doesn’t work he can’t seem to quell the frustration that coils around his already tense body.

It's your laugh. The sound of your laughter, light and merry calms him. It clashes so greatly with the heavy weight of his heart, with the turbulence in his mind. He stands there for a moment, just outside your shared bedchambers, his anger evaporating as he listens to the heavenly sound.

With a deep breath, he opens the door entering with a relieved sigh. His lilac eyes meet your own with a tender expression that softens his features, watching your dressers ready you for bed, taking your necklace and earrings off with great care.

“You’re dismissed… leave us.” Aegon commands, waving a dismissive hand to the two ladies. They both bow courtly before leaving the room with knowing smirks gracing their lips.

You stand there however with furrowed brows, tilting your head in confusion as he draws closer to you. “I’m still in my day clothes?” You state only receiving a chuckle in return.

“I’m aware.” He smirks, admiring the way the silk of your dress hugs your curves. It drives him to madness and he can’t help but grasp at your hips as he continues to drink in the sight of you. "You don't need your dressers to get you ready for bed... I can take care of that for you."

The realisation hits all so suddenly, taking your breath away and the only response you can give him is a small ‘Oh’ which only makes him chuckle once more against the soft skin of your shoulder.

It had been far too long since he had taken you, all the interrupted moments and the long busy days had caused a searing ache between your thighs that you had tried to sate with your fingers, but nothing could compare to Aegon— he knew you like the back of his hand, he filled the spaces you couldn’t.

“What has spurred this one?” You ask, tone hushed and breathless as he leaves a trail of warm kisses along your neck and the dip of your shoulder. It wasn’t a complaint, far from it, you just wanted to know whether or not he burned for you the way you did for him.

And gods did he. Aegon's fingers work at the laces of your dress with practised ease, his touch feather-light and yet exhilarating. He watches you through the reflection of the mirror, the way the silk of your dress ripples down your body like a waterfall until it pools around your feet leaving you vulnerable to him.

“Do I need an excuse to want to touch you like this?” He whispers, lips grazing against the curve of your jaw. It’s all so dizzying in such an embarrassing way.

You lean back against him, enjoying the way his fingers trace along your waist causing your skin to break out in gooseflesh. He mumbles something about how ‘sensitive you are’ into the crook of your neck and you can feel the smirk that teeters on his lips when a breathless moan escapes you.

“No of course not— I’ve missed you.” You sigh, leaning your head to expose more of your neck to him as your fingers find his hair.

He nuzzles his nose against the underside of your jaw, humming in contentment as your sweet flowery scent surrounds him. “I’ve missed you— so much.” He breathes.

Aegon cups your jaw, tilting your head slightly to the side so he can kiss you. So slow and yet full of passion that has only been building up for the past few weeks. He groans into your eager mouth the taste of your tongue against his own going straight to his cock.

His arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you closer to him. He press his growing erection against the curve of your ass and he can’t help but rut against you slightly. He was more pent up than he realised.

He breaks the messy kiss momentarily, his breath warm against your skin. "You taste... incredible..." he whispers, his voice a low rumble, before kissing you once again.

“The wine perhaps.” The words are hushed through a small giggle. Once again his lips find yours, not breaking as you turn around in his embrace, one of his hands reaching up to caress your warm cheek.

"No," he murmurs, pulling back to admire you with a hungry look and a lazy grin. "It's not the wine." He leans back in. "It's... you," the kiss is much greedier, and his hands trace a path down your spine, resting against the small of your back, drawing you closer to his body.

You gasp, hands flying to grab his forearms as he suddenly begins to guide you backwards over to your shared bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress as you collide with the softness of the bedsheets, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Where did your manners go?” You tease him lightly, propping yourself up on your elbows, watching him with desire in your eyes as he lifts his tunic over his head, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

He smirks, leaning over you, trailing his lips along your collarbones— a clash of teeth and tongue. His hips lay flush over your own as he slowly grinds himself down onto you, relishing in the sweet sounds that you make.

"My manners?" he murmurs against your chest, his eyes meeting your own with a glint of playfulness flashes through them. "They flew out the window the moment I took that dress off of you."

His gaze roams over your body, drinking in the sight of you laid out beneath him bare— hips writhing desperately. You gasp against the pillows as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak whilst his other hand cups your unattended breast, thumbing over the nub.

“Aegon— please.” The words are a struggle to get out as he’s rendered you completely breathless, but the way your hips lift up to try and press against his, desperate for attention, tells him everything he needs to know.

He hums in understanding, leaving a trail of kisses along your breasts. “I’ll get there, my love… I’ll get there.” He coos softly, his hand falling to your restless hips as his thumb rubs over the curve and dips whilst his mouth ravishes your chest in wet kisses and small licks.

Aegon slips his hand in between your thighs, watching your face intently as his fingers part your slick folds, running along the sensitive flesh before catching your clit, rubbing slow circles over the bud. He’s completely taken with the way you arch up into his touch, how your lips part, the sounds you make. All of it— all of you—causes his cock to throb.

You mewl, hips bucking against his hand as he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them. “Mhm… you’re so beautiful with my fingers buried in your cunt,” He smirks, enjoying the fact he isn’t the only one who has been pent up. “So wet…” the words are muffled against your lips, your slickness coating his digits.

You brush your fingers through his hair, pulling him into a kiss as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Your free hand works deftly to unlace his breeches, the fabric falls mid-thigh letting his cock spring free, begging for attention.

Aegon hisses sharply into your ear, burying his face against your shoulder as your hand wraps around his length. “I want your cock inside me, please…” you beg him, voice strained with pleasure. The deep desire to feel him as close to you as humanly possible completely drowns out everything else in your mind, your thoughts now are only of him.

He nods his head in compliance, not having the strength the refrain himself any longer than he already has. Sliding his fingers out of your cunt, he coats your slickness around the tip of his thick shaft, the feeling sends a tingle down his spine, his skin hot to the touch.

Aegon swats your hand away gently as he guides the head of his cock between your folds, nudging the tip against your clit over and over again basking in the way his name sounds coming from you all whiny, laced with such wanton passion.

He groans as he lines himself up to your entrance before sinking into you slowly, whispering soft lovely words of encouragement against your jaw. The way you take him with ease, how your slick walls clamp around him it’s all so maddening— so mind-numbing and all he can do is huff and moan against your skin.

The stretch of him is so achingly good, the drag of his cock along your walls as he thrusts his hips against your own sends a searing heat through your abdomen. Aegon mutters on about how ‘good you feel’ and how ‘well you take him’ like some sort of crazed man, completely drunk off of your body.

His movements soon become sloppy, trying so hard to keep himself from spilling too early but the sounds of wet flesh and your moans coupled with the way your cunt squeezes around him makes it nearly impossible as he teeters closer to the edge.

“Fuck— I can’t— it’s been too long I— I won’t last.” He whimpers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. His hands pin your hips down to the bedsheets as he continues to fuck himself into you, moaning hotly against your flushed skin as you wrap your thighs around his waist to hold him closer.

“I- I’m close… don’t worry.” You reassure him, your hand grasping at his white hair. The tightness deep inside him eventually snaps, spilling his warm seed inside you with a broken cry of pleasure, panting and whining into the crook of your neck as apologies fly from his lips. You grab his face, kissing him greedily as you come around cock, milking him practically dry.

The pair of you go boneless against the comfort of the pillows, catching your breaths with dazed expressions. Aegon’s fingers trace a soothing line along your spine as you instinctively seek out the warmth of his arms.

“Sorry-” He rasps with a lazy grin, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek. "It's been too long"

“Mm… don't apologise, we'll never go that long apart again.” You reply earning a weak nod and a hum of agreement from him. You rest your cheek against his chest, allowing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm your own erratic one.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

[bunnys-kisses]

cum stained logos

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, the 2024 red bull driving uniform, uniform kink, oral sex

bunny says: reblogs & comments are greatly appreciated! I love feedback!! i am looking (dis)respectfully mr. verstappen, been thinkin about this image.

the driving uniform was a core feature of formula one, it was a showcase of sponsors while also being a protector for the driver. there was a reason why technically the uniform was in two layers.

max was proud to wear red bull, even off the track he wore is quite frequently. you once made a comment asking if he got this stuff for free and that was why there was so much of it in his closet.

"you like it." he responded as he placed his hands on your shoulders and went in for a kiss on your cheek from behind, "i know how you look at me after a race. red bull across my chest."

you looked behind yourself to him and made a face, "i love a man in uniform so." you shrugged.

the idea buried itself in max's brain like a seed. it soon grew into a hefty idea to make you squirm.

for max it wasn't hard to get his driving suit into his bag and back to his home. everyone assumed he was just very dedicated to racing (which was a correct assumption), but max verstappen would never do anything nefarious with it. to ruin the red bull legacy and brand.

so the look on your face when you went into the bathroom and saw him zipping up the dark blue uniform was a nice surprise. he looked over at you and smiled, "like what you see?"

you swallowed, "how did you even-"

he turned around, it was still partially unzipped giving you a clear view that he was not wearing the fire proof protection underneath. he had no reason to really wear it, while sex with you was hot. it was no fire hazard.

you adverted your eyes and swallowed, "max... how?"

he chuckled and went up to you. he placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned in for a kiss. when he pulled away soon after he said, "i want to show the integrity of the red bull brand.

he then laughed, "i'm joking. i wanted you to suck my cock while i wore it. after all, you liked men in uniform."

your eyes went wide for a moment, "every day you surprise me, max." then your hand was taken by your boyfriend and led back to the bedroom.

he looked over his shoulder as he led you and said, "well, you have a whole lifetime of surprises then." he got on the bed, with his back up against the headboard. he patted his thigh and you got between his legs.

"sometimes i forget how hot you are." you admitted.

he raised an eyebrow, "well, i guess i have to remind you then." then gestured for you to unzip the suit. he watched you careful eyes as you slowly unzipped it.

you felt your hand shake from anticipation as you zipped it all the way down, exposed his toned torso to you. you swallowed when you eyes trailed to his cock which was clothed by a pair of briefs. you noticed the bulge in them.

"like it?" he asked.

you looked up at him, "max, the first time i saw it on accident my jaw hit the floor. remember what i asked you?"

he scratched his jaw a little flustered, "you asked me if when i get hard if i lose all the blood in my head."

you nodded and reached for the waistband of his briefs. you pulled his cock out and without thinking licking your lips. you felt a shudder in your heart. you kissed the leaky tip and sighed contently.

this entire situation was hot. he looked good in the driver's suit. he looked good with red bull and the other branding across his body. he was a good racer and got good sponsors. he also had an impressive cock that fit nicely in your throat.

it was hefty and big, but not terrifying. it was a snug fit, but not a painful stretch. it was perfect just like the rest of him. you heard him relax further against the headboard and his large hand found the back of your head.

"ik had dit eerder moeten doen. als ik het had geweten, fuck." he shifted on the bed and let you take all of him in his mouth. as much as you threw around that max was a kinky man, you were almost toe to toe with him.

he knew you tried to act surprised, but he knew that you ate up any chance at exploring aspects of sex. and sometimes that meant him stealing his driving suit and letting you suck him off.

you held onto his thighs for support, the fabric under his fingers grounded you as you sucked him off. your eyes fluttered closed as you bobbed your head up and down.

your mouth felt like a dream. he held onto you and rocked up a little against your mouth.

"you feel so good." he panted as he felt the heat in his body. his heart was a loud thump in his ears as he stroked your hair. you looked so good laid out between his legs with his cock in your throat.

it was so painfully dirty that it lit a fire in max's stomach. he softly met your pace and pushed his cock a little further into your throat. he exhaled deeply as you just took him so well.

"do you like the uniform?" he asked, "maybe next time i'll fuck you while you're wearing it. " he chuckled a little.

you got your mouth off of him and stroked his cock quickly, "don't get cocky." you raised your eyebrows then leaned in to lick the swollen head, "not a good look on you."

he gripped your hair a little tighter and replied, "but you love it." then guided your mouth back onto his cock. he set the pace a little bit as he moved your head up and down his cock.

you got it slick all the way to his balls. his cock felt good on your tongue as you felt the heat curl in your stomach. the heat throbbed in your head.

you two continued to work together. the soft noises and the sounds of your mouth on his cock were in the air. the soft curses and heavy pants. the shifts on the bed.

max was deeply in love with you, not that it was something that you questioned. but when you were sucking the soul of out him, he felt a big swell of pride in his chest that you were his.

"shit, i'm close." he groaned, the sweat caused the suit to stick to his back. it felt good, but he was reaching his peak.

you pulled your mouth away from his cock and hastily jerked him off. you were both panting with an intense head rush. max ran his fingers through his hair once more before he tensed up and climaxed.

ropes of hot cum reached across his chest and splattered onto a few of the logos on the uniform. but he couldn't care in that moment. he did wish that he got to finish all over those cute cheeks of yours.

no time like the present for that dream as he reached down and pulled your mouth up against his still erect cock. between heavy pants he said, "keep it in your mouth next time. clean me up.'

you looked back up at him before you started to lick his cock. your core throbbed, you'd get yours soon enough. but your driver boyfriend wasn't done yet. <3

[reiderwriter]

In Case I'm Mistaken

Chapter Five of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Your first run-in with Spencer Reid since he left you so spectacularly is fraught with tension. Sexual and otherwise.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI pregnancy symptoms, morning sickness/ throwing up, fingering, rough sex, semi-public sex, penetrative sex, choking, slapping, creampie but she's pregnant already, mild case details, etc.

A/N: We're halfway through! I sincerely hope everyone enjoys how stupid and oblivious Spencer is being because I can't promise he'll wise up anytime soon lmao. If you're enjoying the series, let me know in the comments ♡

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

When you left Spencer's apartment, you expected a call or a text or an email in the next three days. Penelope told you that's most likely when they'd wrap the case and when he'd be back at his apartment to see the stunt you had pulled. 

You tried to force yourself back to work in the meantime, and it almost worked. Until you had to spend three hours a day crouched over a toilet bowl, emptying your stomach lining again and again. You had spent almost a full month like that before you realised you hadn't heard from him. 

First, it was cases, then it was casework, and then it was cases again, but if probed, Spencer truly would have no idea you'd tried to get in contact with him at all. And it seemed he didn't care in the slightest.

He'd been home, but he hadn't been looking for anything out of place, so he hadn't seen anything out of place. Certainly not a bookshelf spelling out “CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THIS.” It was your choice to leave the cryptic message though, and you hadn't exactly left him any notes to say that you'd dropped by. 

But finding out you were pregnant on a night you'd half-expected to throttle the man who'd impregnated you (verbally) and then having cried on his couch with one of his very close female friends? Yeah, you were confused and lost, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. 

With emotions and hormones running high, you couldn't even tell if Spencer was purposefully ignoring you or not. 

The only saving grace in that month was your promotion. 

It literally could not have come at a better time, and you'd enjoyed signing the papers greatly knowing you'd be blindsiding your boss with a pregnancy announcement in the next three months, should you be able to carry the baby successfully to that point. 

You'd had your first check-up without a call from Spencer. You'd picked out your first baby outfit without a call from Spencer. You were pretty confident that you'd give birth to the goddamn baby without a call from Spencer. 

Which is why when you found him in your office a month later, you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck and slowly choke the life out of him. 

Between classes, you'd taken to running to the bathroom to hang your head in shame, not over morning sickness at all yet. You'd taken to keeping cereal bars and pregnancy safe snacks in your office in case you needed something else to help you power through the morning. 

That morning was worse than others, with less than half your students in attendance and still two hours to waste standing up in front of a podium - department rules. 

You'd thought you were going to expire in front of that toilet bowl, sending up your prayers as you checked your watch and realised you'd have a class again in an hour or two that you weren't fully prepped for. 

So you slinked back to your office and tried to throw yourself onto the sofa, but unfortunately for you, a large man was blocking your way. 

“Can I help you?” You eked out, voice weak but still able to convey all the annoyance you felt at the door. 

“Sorry, sorry, this is your…?" The man said, smiling down at you. You had to give it to him, the man was good looking but you just waited for him to stand aside again. 

“Do you mind?” You said, gesturing to the door you now knew the man was blocking. He wasn't letting you in for some reason, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why. It was your goddamn office for christ's sake. Your snacks were inside. 

“Sorry, following orders.”

“Right, and whose orders would those be Mr…”

“SSA Luke Alvez,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

You'd have introduced yourself politely under any other circumstances but in reaching out his hand and giving his title, you'd seen the flash of his FBI badge on his hip and knew exactly who was behind this. 

“Son of a bitch,” you muttered, ducking under the man's arms and slamming the door to your office open to find Doctor Spencer Reid huddled over some files, two women flanking him on either side. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

The two women looked taken aback, straightening immediately as they looked between you and Spencer. He was slow to take his eyes off whatever it was they were working on, as if playing with you once again. 

You really regretted keeping his desk around, seeing how comfortable he looked there, how normal it was for you to see him there.

“Doctor Y/N. Nice to see you again.” 

“Nice to-?” You scoffed and slammed the door once more. “Yeah. Okay.” 

One of the women quickly excused herself from the situation, almost as soon as she realised that once you'd finally locked eyes with Spencer, neither of you looked away. 

“I'm sorry to intrude, my name is Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, I'm the Unit Chief of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit. We really wouldn't be here if it weren't an emergency.” 

You had to give it to the woman, but she caught on quickly and stepped between the two of you, breaking eye contact and forcing your attention onto her. You introduced yourself quickly. 

“Doctor Y/N Y/L/N. I trudt that if you're here, something bad has happened.” 

You noticed a flash of something as Emily shook your hand, hearing your name. It was subtle, and it was quick, but you saw her eyes flick to your stomach and then back up, and you froze. 

She knew. Penelope hadn't exactly broken your trust - you never told her to keep a secret from anyone but Spencer - but you felt your guard go back up twofold. 

“Emily, can I talk privately with Y/N for a moment?” Spencer asked, and you resisted the urge to cradle yourself, to cover whatever it was she may have seen in your appearance or the way you held yourself that became your tell. 

You wanted to tell Spencer you were pregnant, sure, but you'd wanted to tell him a month ago. Now? Now you were pissed off. 

The older woman quietly bowed out, reminding Spencer to reconvene with her in another hour. She shut the door quietly after she went, and you listened carefully to the retreating murmurs of her and the other agent down the hall until you were confident you were more or less alone. 

And then you picked up the nearest book and threw it. 

“Y/N! Listen, I can explain-” 

You threw another book, and this one hit his arm. He winced and rubbed it quickly as he flinched away from you, picking up your third weapon. 

“Explain what? Explain why you've commandeered my office for secret FBI business? Explain why you left me behind like a discarded cum rag after we had sex? Maybe you-” 

“Y/N, I had a case, I didn't want to-” You threw another book, but he batted it away this time. 

“Can we just talk like adults, please?” He stepped forward and grabbed your wrist just as you reloaded with another book, forcing the tome from your grip in a few seconds. 

“The Norton Anthology? Really? You'd bludgeon me to death with that thing.”

“It has some interesting essays on psychoanalysis and literary theory. You should be honoured that I'd even think of throwing it at you.” 

He just scowled and sat you down on the couch, following you there to sit next to you. 

“Why are you still so frustrated? I thought we moved past this- this resentment?” 

For the last few weeks, you'd hoped that Spencer was just clueless about what you were going through. That he'd been swamped with work and hadn't seen your message. But getting the confirmation in real time was winding. 

The air was knocked from your lungs, and you had to fight to fill them again, refusing to let yourself be so downright pathetic.

“What resentment did we move past exactly, Spencer? Because I remember the sex, but I do not remember your apology.”

“Why should I apologise?” The sincerity in his voice had your fingers itching to knock his lights off for him.

“Well, gee, for a starter, maybe for finding my address online and showing up to my house uninvited and unannounced.” 

“I did announce it. You just blocked my number and email.” 

You scoffed and threw yourself back in your chair. 

“Number, yes. Email? No. You sent it from an unauthorised network email. All your emails sat in my spam folder until last month.” 

He furrowed his brows at the news, but you just crossed your arms and waited for whatever he'd say next to get out of taking responsibility. 

“I'm sorry.” 

To say you weren't expecting that was an understatement. You felt so uncomfortable with the words you fidgeted in your seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. 

“Yes, well…” 

Standing, you moved to your desk and grabbed the snacks you'd come here to find, slamming your desk draw shut and keeping the desk between you, sitting in your chair. 

“We're working a case.” 

“I can tell.” 

He leant over the desk and grabbed one of your snacks, opening a cereal bar quickly and taking a bite. 

“Three of the students in our faculty have gone missing in the last 30 days.” 

You nodded as you listened, but your eyes were on your snack, in his hand, in his mouth. The bastard. 

“I need to use the office for a few days. I won't disturb you, but we need some space as a base on campus, and this is our best option.”

“Not afraid I'll walk away with critical documents this time?” 

“This time, I have everything memorised. I've read all the documents. You can't ruin the case this time.”

You stood and grabbed your snack from his hand as he lifted it to take another bite, throwing it straight into the trash can. 

“What was that for?”

“For being a jerk.”

You stomped over to your bag and pulled out your headphones, putting them on as he attempted to keep talking to you. 

“Y/N, you're being immature-” 

“You just stole my snack like it's playtime at recess, Spencer. I'm not the immature one.” 

You turned the music on as he attempted to talk to you, but you didn't budge or take them off, returning to the couch to lay comfortably once more. 

Something about the infuriating, beautiful man had you wanting to act out, reaching new levels of immaturity. 

You felt the dip in the couch as he joined you there, felt him waving in front of your face. You smiled at his growing frustration as you heard him raise his voice just slightly. 

Then, your legs were pulled out from under you, and you squeaked in shock as Spencer Reid pulled you into his lap, making you straddle him. Your eyes blew open, and you grabbed at his shirt for balance, leaving you open to his attacks as he knocked the headphones off your head. 

“You're such a…a..” 

“Jackass? Okay, sure, but I'm a jackass you're going to listen to.”

“Make me.” 

The words were a dare, a challenge you didn't think he'd rise to. But his hands snaked around your neck, and he pulled your lips down to him, silencing you completely with another angry kiss.

Your lips parted immediately, all too happy to take in his wondering tongue as you battled for dominance. His hands trailed up and down your body, cupping your ass cheeks, squeezing your already sensitive breasts, pushing your skirt up so his hands could roam underneath. 

You squirmed in his lap, memories of the last night you'd seen him rushing back. His tongue, his hands, fuck, his cock. Pregnancy hormones or just plain old lust, you wanted it all over again, and you didn't stop to think about it for a second. Any second he was kissing you was a second he wasn't talking. 

You ground your hips into his as he worked a finger into your underwear, scraping against your clit as he pulled his head away, burying it in your neck as he began nipping and licking your skin, on a mission to taste every inch of you. 

“Spencer,” You gasped as he began rubbing your clit faster, your body providing all the juices he needed to make you feel good. 

“Spencer, we should- fuck!” It'd been only minutes, but he'd already pushed you over the edge, and you died your first little death cumming on his fingers. 

“We should fuck? Yes, yeah I can get behind that,” he said, laying you down again and slowly pulling down your damp underwear. 

“That's not what I was going to say, you bastard,” you said, grabbing his tie and pulling him in for another kiss. 

“I know, but this is much better, don't you think?” He pulled away and fumbled with his pants, pulling them down only far enough to free his cock before sliding into you. He sheathed Himself inside you, pushing inch by inch until he was at your limit, and then he stopped. 

He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your neck and collarbones, he took his time with each spot, making a line down your body, a record of every place he had possessed you without moving an inch. 

“Spencer, you can't- need to-” you whined, not minding sounding like a petulant child about to throw a tantrum when he was giving you a pretty great reason to do so. 

He had eaten your snacks and now he was just keeping his cock warm inside of you, not even bothering to rub your clit anymore, his hands more focused on keeping his weight up. 

“I need to do what, Y/N? Tell me, but be quiet about it. This office isn't soundproof, remember.” 

 “Shit, shit, shit, shit-” 

You tried to roll your hips under him, to take the pleasure you needed, but he stopped you, letting his hips press deeper into yours, making himself heavy. You tried another tactic. 

“Oh, come on Spencer, you can't even fuck me properly now? Pathetic.’

“Watch it-” he said, but you cut him off again.

“Watch what? You're not doing anything. Maybe I'll ask that little friend of yours outside for some help instead, I'm sure Agent Alvez would be more than happy to-” 

A short, soft slap to your face cut your words off as he spoke, the hand that hit you immediately pushing down to your neck and squeezing lightly. 

“You're. Mine,” he spat, and started immediately rolling his hips into you quickly. 

You wrapped your legs up and around him, your hands lifting to grab his wrist, keeping his hand in place around your throat.

He fucked you harder and your breaths became shallow, eyes locked with his as he panted and writhed above you. He didn't look away. You couldn't. You were drunk on his cock, completely unable to sober up and just waiting for your orgasm to strike you once again. 

You weren't two civilised people in that room, but animals, forcing one another to submit, to give in to temptation. 

His hand on your throat came loose as he came, chest falling down to yours as he flooded your insides with cum once again. To give him credit where credit was due, he kept his cock inside of you and rubbed your clit again to completion, swallowing your every moan and whimper with a kiss, enjoying the feeling of you convulsing on his cock. 

When you were both finally done, he let himself rest on top of you, burying his head in your neck and inhaling your scent as you both dropped back down into reality. 

“Get up,” you said first, pushing him up and watching him peel out of you as you reached back to the coffee table for the box of tissues there. 

“We need to clean up,” You said attempting to tidy the cum leaking out of you away, as if it were merely a spilt drink. 

He sat up, giving his cock a wipe down before putting his clothes back together. You both sat side by side, minding your own business, making yourselves look as inconspicuous as possible and ignoring the elephant in the room. 

He broke the silence first. 

“The girls, they're all our students. The only thing they share is that they all took both of our courses.” 

Your heart dropped as you remembered he wasn't here for you, that he had other jobs and responsibilities. You were merely a pleasurable afterthought. 

“Shit,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. You stretched out and stood, sore but still able to make your body work for you. 

“You're sure there's nothing else? No clubs, no extra curricular?” His jaw tightened as he ground his teeth together, unsure about how much to tell you. 

“They fit a basic profile which tells us the unsub is killing people as a scapegoat and…hasn't got to his intended target yet.” 

You nodded as you took in the information, standing and leading yourself back to your desk and grabbing your bag again. 

“Look, just… just use the room until you get your guy. I'll work from the library or a study room or something, just…” You ran another hand through your hair, exasperated. 

“Y/N, no, we don't need to out you out, we shared the office space before, we can-” 

“We can't. Five minutes alone in this room together today proved… that we can't. Don't get distracted.” 

You grabbed more books, turning away from him to avoid the guilty looks he was shooting you. 

You'd almost collected everything, hesitating as you grabbed your pregnancy vitamins from your draw, stuffing them quickly into your bag before moving closer to the door. 

It opened before you could open it, and Emily Prentiss made herself known again. 

“Good, you're already packed,” she said, grabbing your bag from your shoulder and slinging it over her own. 

“I didn't know you all wanted rid of me so badly,” you said, trying to keep your voice as even and pleasant as possible and greatly failing. 

“We don't want to get rid of you. Y/N, I'm afraid it's quite the opposite.” 

Your heart slowed to a stop, and your blood ran cold as she offered you a sympathetic glance. You must've stumbled a bit backwards because Spencer's hand was immediately on your lower back, his body curved protectively around you as you too wrapped your arms around yourself, around your baby. 

“We've had contact with the killer, and we think you're his intended target,” Emily explained in as even a tone as you'd ever heard someone give a death sentence. 

“We've contacted WitSec, but until then, we'll be taking you into protective custody ourselves. I have a spare room, and we'll grab some of your things before you move in, everything you need to feel comfortable. Do you understand?” 

“No,” you said, but it wasn't your voice. You felt grateful, though, because you didn't understand. There was someone trying to kill you, and you absolutely didn't understand. You'd just had sex with Spencer Reid again, and you hadn't told him you were pregnant with his child, and nothing made 6 there was someone trying to kill you. 

But it wasn't your voice saying no, so you stopped thinking and kistened. 

“No, she'll… she'll stay with me,” Spencer said, gripping you tighter and pulling you closer, nearly crushing you in his arms. 

“Spencer, it's not up to you,” Emily said, her voice a clear warning even to your buzzing ears. 

“Y/N? Y/N, listen to me, please,” he said, gripping your shoulders again and twisting you around so he was all you could see, ducking his head lower so you were directly in his eyeline. 

“Y/N, I'll keep you safe. Come and stay with me.” 

You thought about his apartment and the message you'd left. You thought about the month you spent waiting for him to call, and the month that you'd spent wanting to rip his throat out. You thought about his hands on your skin, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his cock buried inside of you. You thought, too, about the doctors appointments you'd have to reschedule. You thought about the baby clothes you'd have to leave behind. You thought about how you'd have to hide your morning sickness, and your growing baby bump, and your hormones, and all the supplements recommended by your Doctor because you already loved your baby and you wanted them to be healthy. 

You thought that if you went with him, you'd have to tell him and confront whatever decision he made regarding you and the baby.

You thought logically that you shouldn't do it. But his hand grabbed yours, fingers intertwined, and he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand, and you were nodding. 

“Yes,” you said when you should've gone with Emily. 

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead and immediately bundled you out of the office and out of your comfort zone. 

🔖@stillhere197 @understandingsunrise @mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @alondralolll @i_heart_mgg @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig @pisceslovrr @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @pleasantwitchgarden @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @flipsideoflife @spicyspirit @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @fabulouslynerdy @batrensworld @cattosmush @im-this-girl @sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere @lariclifford @daphnesutton

[obliviouscxnt]

His Shadow pt.2 Azriel x Reader

a/n: all the feedback from the last fic is insane! I can’t even express the joy all of the comments bring me, the kind words mean so much!!! I'm so happy this concept is liked, I definitely want to explore more with it:)) I hope you enjoy!! <333

1.8k words

synopsis: azriel makes a deal with himself to get his shadows back

Warnings: angst, fluff

pt.1

He’d gotten so used to you being there, so comfortable with the shadows that always surrounded him. 

Now that they were gone—now that you were gone—he was left with an inescapable feeling. Loss. 

It felt like lead in his body. It twisted, and turned, weighing itself down on his ribs. Aching at every little thing he began to notice, the little things you did for him. The things he’d taken for granted. 

He missed the way your darkness covered him like a protective blanket. Missed the ease it brought him. Without it, he felt bare. 

He missed your voice, your whispers. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough he could almost hear it. Almost. He’d never taken the time to memorize it. Never took the time to see beyond what was on the surface. Why hadn’t he? 

How did he disregard you?

You, the first to show him compassion, apart from his own mother. You, who suffered with him in that cold keep, locked away. Unable to grow, to learn, to live. 

You were there for him, with him. 

How could he have overlooked you?

He holds on to your words, the idea that you would answer if he called brought him only a fraction of the comfort you gave him daily. 

You weren’t really gone, he kept telling himself. He’d see you again. 

When it was necessary. 

No longer would you whisper a good morning to him when he woke, or a goodnight when he slept. No longer would you be there, just to be with him. Just to rest on his shoulders, or weave between his fingers. 

He’d used you, like a tool. Like you were just another weapon in his arsenal. 

The pain in his chest swelled, twinging as the image of misery on your breathtaking face invaded his mind. The awful things he’d said, the hateful accusation he’d made. 

You cared so greatly for him, for so long, only to receive cruelty in return. 

How had he ever thought your absence poetic? 

Being away from him was a physical struggle. The need to be there for him, to comfort him, to apologize, and to express your faith in him was undying. You were surprised you’d lasted a full day. 

No matter how he treated you, no matter how much it hurt, he’d always be everything. 

Yet you kept hearing his words. ‘Are you jealous? Is that it?’ Kept seeing that angry glare he’d aimed at you, and how it melted away when you’d taken form. ‘Because I don’t give you enough attention?’

You kept remembering the change in his eyes, in the way he looked at you. Like he’d just then realized you had a mind of your own, that he didn’t have to think for you. 

You’d thought it would make you happy. To have him really see you. 

It didn’t. 

You felt anger and sorrow. Angry you practically had to spell it out for him. Angry the most observant person in the Night Court, if not all of Prythian, had never spared you a second glance. Sad that you had to look like him to get his attention. 

You'd given him every opportunity, you'd shown him your capacity for emotions countless times. He ignored it every single time. No, ignore wasn't right.

Ignorant.

Ignorant was the better word.

Perhaps it was your fault for expecting more of him. 

In the beginning, his neglect hadn’t even mattered. You didn't realize he treated you any differently. That is until you saw him interact with Rhys and Cassian, and then eventually Mor and Amren. 

With them, he was… still distant, closed off in a way. But he smiled, he laughed, he joked. He empathized with them, got angry for them, or sad, or happy. He loved them.

With you, it was just, find me this… bring me here…  go listen to them… keep me hidden… 

He never smiled at you. 

It was your own fault for expecting him to think of you as anything other than a servant. 

That’s what you are, right?

The need to grovel at his feet came back. You felt ridiculous. You lived to serve him. Without him you wouldn’t even have a life. 

You were such a fool, living darkness throwing a fit over some hurt feelings.

He was the only reason you were able to feel anything at all. He gave you meaning. He was your purpose in life, not the other way around. He had no obligation to you, he didn't even have to call on you. The fact that he did was a gift in itself. Just like the pain you felt was a gift.

Without him, you’d just be a regular shadow. 

That should be enough for you. 

So when you heard his call, when you felt that irresistible tug on your soul, you answered. 

You answered though you knew he had no reason for it. He wasn’t in danger, he didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t need you to spy on anyone or find anything, he was just calling you. 

You answered because no matter what you said, no matter how you felt, he would always be everything. 

Azriel waits for you. Standing in the center of his room, shifting his balance from his right leg to his left. 

He couldn’t keep his hands still, they ran through his hair, adjusted his shirt, got stuffed in his pockets only to leave them a moment later and rub at his neck. His arms cross in an effort to keep them still. 

He was anxious, and restless, and nervous about messing up, but most of all he was angry at himself. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if you ignored his call, even though you said you couldn’t. You’d probably found a way, after all he’s done he wouldn’t blame you. 

It would hurt like hell, but he’d understand. Why would you bother giving him a second chance? 

He’d never even asked you for a name. 

Did you even have one? Do shadows need names? They obviously have a language, one he was able to speak and understand. Did you have a family? A people? Were you born or did you just appear one day? 

These were all things he should’ve known already. Things he should’ve had the mind to be curious about. 

He was too focused on himself and everyone else.

The lights dim, announcing your presence. 

His arms uncross, falling at his sides. You really came. 

Swirls of darkness slip into his room, slowly inching toward him. The way they move is lethargic. It makes him sick.

He speaks when you make it within a foot of him. Pushing past the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

The shadows stop. Gone was the mighty spymaster. All that remained was the boy who cried out to you on that cold night several centuries ago.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “You don’t have to accept my apology. I don't want you to. I know I haven’t earned it. I just want you to know that If I could go back and change everything I would.” The words were nothing but the truth. He wished more than anything to go back and treat you right. To erase all the hurt he put you through.

His heart jumps when you continue toward him, slithering up his body, encasing him in your energy. 

He feels you curl around his ear, and then he hears your voice. That airy tone reverberating through his head. A sound only he could hear. Only he could appreciate. One he hadn't until he knew what it was like to lose it. 

“I forgive you.”  

Azriel wanted to weep at those words. For you. For him. For what he’d done to the two of you. For what the two of you could’ve been if he’d just sacrificed a little of his time to be with you. Like you always had for him.

“No, you don’t,” He began, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” 

The lights flicker, once, twice, then he feels it. Your hand.

His gaze trails down to watch your smokey fingers lace with his. The feeling of your skin touching his had his heart racing for other reasons. Very different from the chill of your shadows.

He lets his hand curl around your own. Squeezing as he went on, hoping you could hear and feel every last drop of his sincerity. “I could apologize to you every day for the rest of our eternal lives and I still wouldn’t deserve it.” 

You step in front of him, meeting his stare. The emotion it held stitched something back together inside of you, something that'd gotten torn apart years ago.

“I will do everything in my power to change that. I promise.” His thumb rubs circles on your hand. “I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of you. That you chose right.”  He felt his body tingle with each word, the sensation traveling down his arms, his chest, and his back. Ink undoubtedly marking his skin with a visual reminder of the deal he’d just made with himself.

To strive to one day earn your forgiveness. Your loyalty. 

You reach out a hand resting it on his face, so faintly it barely even touched him. Afraid you were overstepping.

He leans into it, covering it with his own, holding it there.

Your mind drifts back to when you met him.

His small voice, crying out for anyone. 

The strength of the Gods couldn’t have kept you from him.  

You didn’t choose wrong. You knew that. It didn't matter if he believed it or not.

“I swear it.” He vows, bringing you back to the present. His hazel eyes so intense, so sure, burning into your own. You couldn't help yourself.  

You kissed him. 

His lips connect with yours and everything stops. Everything fades away until it’s just you and him.  

He knew he’d never stop chasing the feeling it gave him. Something so simple, so easy, like breathing or gravity. Something he couldn’t live without. Not now that he’d had a taste. 

One of his hands land on your waist, pulling you closer. The other leaves your hand to find purchase on the back of your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss. 

It was euphoric, he wanted to get lost in it, in you. 

You pull away when his tongue brushes over your bottom lip, needing a moment to breathe.

Your eyes remain shut for a moment, stuck in that feeling. When you finally pry them open you study his face, taking in every detail, committing every single bit to memory. 

He's breathing heavily, scanning you with a hunger you’ve never seen before. Eyes darting all over your face, repeatedly drifting back to your lips as if he too was struggling with restraint. 

Then he smiles. Pure elation on his beautiful face. 

The sight was divine. 

You copied the action, smiling wide. You didn’t care if it looked or felt unnatural. You were just happy. 

Happy to be his shadow. 

taglist <33: @sidthedollface2 @mischiefmanagers @theravenphoenix26 @leeknows-wife @fxckmiup

[00-jammy-00]

HI!

Could you do a reader deity who is basically forgotten but Yan finds them and worshippes the hell out of them? (Maybe to the point of having a cult if you're comfortable)

And if you're uncomfortable with the ask that's perfectly fine! I'll probably send another Idea then!

Also any chance I could be 🔪 anon?

Thank you and have a good day! :D

Yan!Worshipper HC’s

Yan!Worshipper x GN! Deity! Reader

Content warning - Yandere themes, obsession, murder, implied stalking, nsfw mentions, manipulation, cult themes, he’s really pathetic I won’t lie

A/N - One more day until my 1K follower special ends!

———————————————————————————————————

Yan!Worshipper who had stumbled upon you when he decided to listen to his dumbass boss and go hiking. He had fallen down the side of a hill, almost breaking his ankle in the process. Though, all of that pain was so worth it when he saw your old, ruined shrine.

Yan!Worshipper who began visiting once a week. When you noticed you had finally gotten a follower, you were excited so you showed yourself when he prayed. He saw stars. You were so gorgeous, so perfect. Just seeing you had his jaw dropped and his pants uncomfortably tight.

Yan!Worshipper whose schedule slightly changed. Visiting you once a week, once every three days, once a day, multiple times a day… It didn’t matter though! He quit his job because you blessed him with amazing luck. He fixed up your shrine but he still felt horrible, you were forgotten. He did the only thing he could think of doing and started to spread the word about you.

Yan!Worshipper who slowly developed a following for you, just a few people here and there…a few hundred. He was a devoted man okay?! Of course he led the cult, none of these fuckers were worthy. None of them were allowed to gaze upon you but him. Only he could bask in your presence, bathe you, dress you, watch you, follow you, fuck you.

Yan!Worshipper who snapped a few necks while attempting to keep this cult going. Some people were so ungrateful, didn’t see what you had to offer. He made sure to soothe you whenever you got too stressed about the disappearances too. “It’s okay, my love, they are apart of something bigger, now look at all the offerings you are getting!” He made sure these brainless drones donated a bunch to this fucking thing too, he couldn’t go broke while servicing you.

Yan!Worshipper who is attending to your every need constantly. He brought you the finest silks, the biggest bed, the ripest fruit and anything else you wanted, as long as you were pleased then he was happy. It made him even more happy when you let him service you in other ways.

Yan!Worshipper who pounds you like the world is ending tomorrow. He can’t help but constantly be touching you, admiring you. He drags his fingers down your body, memorising every single piece of you. You were all his! He didn’t care about his own pleasure when his god was sitting right there. He once came three times just from giving you head.

Yan!Worshipper who’ll never let the cult be shut down. He’s paid off police and government officials to turn a blind eye to the murders sacrifices that happen at the mountain. He couldn’t have his work taken away. God forbid you get taken away. You’re his now. You chose him.

———————————————————————————————————

Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated, requests are open <3

please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

[fatuismooches]

More Dottore and Fragile Reader voice lines, except it's your turn this time. A part two to this. Previous voice lines are here.

About Prime Dottore:

"Zandik. My one and only… words cannot express my tenderness and love toward him. I refuse to forget any moment I've spent with him. Not once has he given up on me, despite the times I’ve given up on myself. And he has always taken care of me, not once faltering in over four hundred years. I- I don’t know what to do sometimes when faced with that information. I wish I could be… less of a burden on him…”

About Omega:

"Omega, huh... he is the only segment where I always spend time with completely alone. See, he's not prone to sharing, just like Prime. I don't mind much, honestly, it's nice to get away from all of the noise and be with him. He always coaxes me to be more selfish too... is it a good or bad thing he's influencing me?"

About Alpha:

"Yes, the grumpy cutie I met all those years ago, the start of it all. He says that my presence is a hindrance and it only disrupts his work, but we both know that's false. Often, I like to sit by him as he writes his notes, pointing out all the errors caused by the atrocity of his handwriting... Sometimes, I feel bad using him as a reminder of the past."

About Beta:

"It always baffles me that Beta was once how Dottore acted. I mean, have you seen the difference between 'Mega and Beta? Anyway... he's always such a fun segment to hang around! Even when his assistants cower behind me in fear! Oh, and whenever he goes 'he-he-ho-ho', it always makes me giggle. Please don't tell him I did that impression of him though."

About Delta:

"Oh, Delta's... pretty mean. A really big meanie, if I do say so myself. He never laughs, never smiles, never entertains my shenanigans, always sees right through me... so rude. Huh? Don't worry about me, I'm allowed to talk about him like this. I still love him, after all."

About Zeta:

"Zeta's always so elusive! It was such a pain to track him down at first, he was always avoiding me. I thought he hated me... but once I got a hold of him, he is always so attentive to me! However, it greatly saddens me that he thinks he "failed" me... and yet he doesn't know how much it hurts me more that I've caused him to be like this."

About Zandy:

"Have you met my son? He's the sweetest little thing, isn't he? I remember how shy he was in the beginning, but he quickly grew to be such a dear. Always so excited and eager for attention. I can't help but wonder if Dottore's life could have been different if more people were kinder to him as a child."

About Pierro:

"I will always be indebted to him and Her Highness for taking me in. He is pretty scary to be around, but I feel sort of bad for him. I can't imagine how much responsibility he has... I once promised him I'd work for the Fatui once I'm better, but he didn't react much. Hmph, I'll show him how much I can boost Dottore's efficiency!"

About Capitano:

"The only thing I really know about him is that he's incredibly strong and well respected, at least from other people. The single time I met him, I also learned he was quite well liked by animals too, but it's hard to get any more information when he's so quiet..."

About Columbina:

"Bina is the best friend I've always wanted. I'm glad she's always there for me whenever things go bad. Although I can never predict what she's going to do or say, which is pretty strange, considering who I'm with, that makes her company all the more fun. Still, the amount of embarrassing situations she's tricked me into with Dottore... makes my head hurt."

About Arlecchino:

"I wish we could be closer, but I don't think it'll ever happen. I can't really blame her though, the relationship between her and Dottore is... not the greatest, for reasons I understand. I wonder what she thinks of me, the person who still stands by his side despite his sins?"

About Pulcinella:

"Oh... the little grandpa? I've always wondered how he's the fifth rank, but there's probably more to it than I know. Regardless, I didn't expect him to be so kind to me. I only see him once in a while, but every time he seems to know how I'm doing. And then, he proceeds to give me the best advice, exactly what I needed to hear at that moment, even when it has to do with Dottore. It's kind of scary..."

About Scaramouche:

"Ah yes... the Balladeer. He always wants to start up something with me whenever we cross paths, which is why my patience runs very thin around him. I hope the next time he goes into the Abyss, he gets stuck there."

About Wanderer:

"Who?"

About Sandrone:

"Her research sounds so cool! I've seen some of the things she can create, and it's completely fascinating. I too once had a love for machines back when I was a student. It's just a shame she never comes out of her lab... there are never any chances for me to talk with her. Well, I can always talk with Alpha and Beta about their research at least."

About La Signora:

"I've barely ever seen or spoken to her, but she has my respect. I heard what happened to her husband. If I ever lost Dottore, I'm not sure if I'd be able to go on... or at least be as half as strong as she is."

About Pantalone:

"Oh, Lone's one of my good friends! He always has such unique ideas for me to get back at Dottore, and listening to him talk about his theories quite reminds me of listening to Dottore. He's helped me a lot, dealing with this man. Still... as he does with everyone, I'm kept at arm's length. It doesn't bother me, but I wish I could help him in some way. But I know that'll never be possible."

About Childe:

"Despite being a Harbinger, he's a lot nicer than you'd think. Well, especially compared to the others in the Fatui. He's great at conversation, his family is the sweetest... and he always promises to spar with me once I'm no longer sick. Truly great company. Too bad Dottore's attitude toward him is... less than favorable."

About Furina:

"At first I hated her just like all the other Gods, but after learning the truth, I can't help but greatly respect her. To take on such a burden without having a single shoulder to lean on and succeed in the end... I think I've been through a lot of pain, but at least I've had Dottore and the others to ease it even just a bit. But she had no one, and I admire her will."

About Nahida:

"I try not to waste my time on things that upset me. It's not good for my health."

Sprint Start:

"No, no, I am not running at all. Look, if I get hurt and Dottore finds out it was your fault, you'll be the ones strapped to the table, not me. Hey... I wouldn't mind being in that position, actually."

Chat - Worry:

"I hope that one day he can make peace with himself."

Chat - Old Times:

"Sometimes I wish I was just a simple student again, having no worries other than my grades and pulling all-nighters with Dottore. Actually, that doesn't really sound relaxing, does it?"

Chat - Idling:

"If you're just going to stand here doing nothing, then I'm going to take a seat over there."

When it Snows:

"Would you be willing to distract Dottie so I can chuck a snowball at him? No? How boring."

When the Sun is Out:

"It's a perfect day to have a picnic and listen to him rant again."

In the Desert:

"... Omega, Beta, Delta, I don't care which one of you does it, get over here and make your hands completely ice cold before I faint."

Something to Share - Talent:

"If you ever need help writing something, you can ask me. I wrote some pretty good essays back in the day, you know. Dottore once said I should even write a book! I thought he was bullying me, but he was actually serious, for some reason. Maybe I should get Zandy to draw some pictures?"

Something to Share - Secret:

"Dottore actually has quite a sweet tooth. Well, this probably isn't much of a secret anymore because I accidentally spilled it to the agents, but it would do you good to keep this in mind."

Interesting Things - Foxttore:

"This little guy here? He'll do you no harm unless I say so, so don't worry. He was one of Dottie's failed experiments roaming the lab until he gifted the creature to me! These pufflings too, surprisingly they help me a lot more than you'd think. They're pretty strong, carrying all my things."

Favorite Pastimes - Meals:

"It's time to eat already? No need to worry about me, I'll just wait for a segment. See, it's best for both of us if I have company while I eat. My hands... aren't the most reliable."

Troubles:

"I am very happy that they have a good place to conduct all the research they want, but I wish they paid some more attention to me sometimes. Voicing this complaint over and over again, however, is too exhausting."

Amusement:

"Dottore's fan club never ceases to amuse me. I know every Harbinger has one but... it's completely hilarious. To go so far as creating a handbook about the two of us... well, I appreciate the dedication and the laughs, especially when I update Dottore on their activities. He may not care, but I support them!"

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi thank u for opening asks! Can I request headcanons for the male companions (and or gortash Raphael and the emperor) having a mute s/o either because they can’t talk or they’re very shy

A/N: Here ya go! Managed to get everyone to stay mostly in character. Please be warned there are hints of nsfw for each character, although nothing graphic in nature. And that the entries for Gortash and Raphael describe abusive relationships, so heed the trigger warnings below. 

🔇 Mute!Reader HC x BG3 Males: 🔇

TW: Domestic Abuse & Vaguely NSFW Content

(Abuse and Manipulation for the Gortash & Raphael ones. Also allusions to sex throughout each entry.)

Astarion: 

He’s suspicious of you at first. Even more so that you don’t talk. But if you prove you’re  not a threat in other ways, he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. He talks to you about the same. A good amount of what he says is either posturing or complaining- and that doesn't change just because you can’t talk back. If anything, he complains even more, knowing you wont tell him to shove off like the others. He greatly enjoys how dramatic he gets to be around you. He’ll lean against a city wall and dramatically lay the back of his hand over his face: ‘I tell you Darling, it’s like these people don’t notice me at all!’ You blink at his outburst, your expression unchanged, clearly unamused. 

Still says lots of witty comments under his breath, and subtly looks over at you to see if you’ve smirked or blushed in response. Gets really good at reading all the little reactions you make. He makes a mental catalog of every half smirk, every eye twitch, every shoulder shrug, so that he knows how you feel about something he or another has said.

Appreciates the fact that you’re unlikely to repeat anything he says to you, which makes him feel all the safer confiding in you about his condition and his past, knowing you can’t go sounding the alarm. 

Ends up going on tangents or rants about the others while you just sit there and kind of grimace, empathetically. He knows it can get annoying to just have to listen, but he’s extremely grateful for the outlet. Cazador certainly never cared what he was feeling. Nor did any of his ‘siblings’. But with you, he can bitch about his day only to turn around and find you still there, listening intently. 

Becomes a lot touchier. Like a lot. He switches from checking to verbal confirmation to physical confirmation. Takes your hand, or pulls you close, squeezes your shoulder- those sorts of things. 

Personally takes it as a challenge to see how loud he can get you to be when you’re intimate together ;) 

Gale: 

Doesn’t notice immediately lol. He’s too busy being overjoyed at the fact you don’t interrupt his long winded, pun-filled speeches to even consider it’s due to a disability or something similar on your part. He just thinks you’re the most wonderful listener. And of course, this makes him fall head over heels for you lol.

Once he does get it, he just sort of goes, ‘Oh.’ And lets that sit in the air. (He’s a bit awkward around you for a while, unsure of how to apologize, so you’d probably need to approach him and make your forgiveness known.) 

Once that misunderstanding is over, he immediately becomes occupied with finding spells to help you talk. If that’s something you want, you appreciate the effort, and let him know you’re in no rush. If that’s something you’re not interested in, you tell him as much. He’s a little disappointed and taken off guard. He explains he’s always used magic to solve his problems. You raise your brow and give him a look that says ‘And that’s been working well for you, has it?’ He relents after that. 

The two of you get really good at reading each other’s faces. And Gale takes it upon himself to talk less as well, even though you explain he doesn’t have to. He insists, saying he wants to understand what your life is like. He lasts like two days lol. 

Becomes mostly competent at understanding what you’re saying either via sign or body language, but occasionally Tera has to translate for you. Thank the gods for tressyms.

Wyll: 

Is momentarily taken aback, embarrassed by his concern he was being rude to you before, assuming you could talk to him but were choosing not to. Apologizes, profusely, for the misunderstanding on his part. 

Learns to communicate with you through other means, be it writing, or by whatever the Faerun equivalent of sign language is. He’s not the best at it, but he tries really hard to learn. Picks up basic phrases like greetings, and moods. Does request that you slow down if you’re fluent, to give his brain time to catch up. 

Doesn’t let anyone in the group make petty or passive aggressive comments while giving them a look or chewing them out. He’s very serious about it. The next time Astarion says something off the cuff, Wyll responds with, ‘Well, Astarion, I’d assume you of all people would be used to it being quiet. Having only the other rats of Baldurs Gate as friends for years.’ He’ll go for the jugular- he doesn't give af! No one gets to make you feel bad about it.

Considers going to Shadowheart or Halsin, or even Gale and asking them if there’s something they can do to help you/your condition, but that’s only with your blessing of course. He wants to help you, but doesn’t want to overstep. 

Comes to appreciate how honest you are in your other reactions- your eyes and your body language. Wyll is used to being deceived- by demons, humans, and the like- so he thinks it’s so special he can read you like a book. Whether you’re strolling through Baldur’s Gate, or enjoying your marital bed, it matters greatly to him how you truly feel and think. He’s glad he’s able to share your truth with him. 

Halsin: 

Catches on fairly quickly, although he doesn’t bring it up to you directly. He figures you will bring it up when you are ready to discuss it, and in the meantime, he would not want to pry. Listens intently when you tell him by checking in with your facial expression as he reads your writing. 

Tries to find ways to help you with what you can do. Suggests maybe enchanting a feather pen and scroll or some chalk and a small board to write out what you’re thinking so others can understand how it is you feel in real time. He offers his druid magic to do whatever you need. Hell, he even considers mentoring you to see if you feel nature’s calling. If you were a druid, perhaps you could develop a relationship with an animal companion, say a bird, or an awakened rat, or a giant eagle and get them to speak for you. 

Similar to Wyll, Halsin will try to learn sign language if that’s something you speak. However he isn’t the most adept at it. He’s very used to spellcasting, which requires at least one free hand, often his dominant hand. So he tries learning sign with his nondominant hand, but that makes it all the more difficult. He knows the alphabet, but that’s about it. You will have to slowly spell out your sentences word by word in order for him to get the gist. 

Makes sure you’re either safely hidden away at camp, or stay within his sight during a battle. He knows you cannot cry out for help, so he wants to make sure he can keep an eye on you throughout any conflict. 

Loves just being close to you. Swears he can hear the intention of your heart when the two of you are so close. He wants to assure you, your difference doesn’t make him love you any less. If anything, he is impressed with how much you continue to adapt to and overcome. He’ll say, ‘You need not speak for me to know your voice, my heart. One look in your eyes, and I know, it is an internal melody so beautiful, all of nature could not compare.’ He’ll place soft touches to your skin and face, and check your reaction before progressing any further. He thinks being intimate with you is the best way to express your emotions as a couple. After all, sex is the most ancient language of all.

Minsc: 

He doesn’t get it until Boo points it out to him lol. And even after being told, he still forgets from time to time. 

Minsc loves to talk. Well brag. And boast. And speak in the third-person. So he’s not thrown off by you having to refer to yourself with body language or with possessive pronouns in Common writings. 

He will ask you lots of questions, all throughout the day. Some are obvious and others are seemingly random, and difficult to explain with your words limited to being written down as fast as you can before Minsc’s mind wanders and changes the subject. It’s a workout for your wrists honestly. 

He will loudly announce that you’re mute every time you meet new people. ‘This is (Y/N), my dear love, she cannot speak. So (Y/N) will write her answers for Boo. And Boo will tell me. Then Minsc may tell you.’ You keep trying to tell him, the system doesn’t need Boo and him to interpret for you, especially if you’re already recording your answers in Common for others to read. 

He will never let you apologize for not being able to speak. He refuses to see it as a problem. ‘Minsc speaks loud enough for both of us, no?’ He thinks you’re the most wonderful person around. He could have his pick of the crop, and yet he chose you. Trust him, you’re the person he wants to be with more than anything. 

Gortash:

Actually kind of prefers lovers who don’t talk back, lol. He’s a very insecure man when it comes to his character. He’s cunning and wise, but clawed his way out of hell (quite literally) and the self-critical voice in his head never silences. So he’s oddly comforted that you can’t demean his temperament. 

He won’t try to fix it, nor will he allow you to try and change it in any sort of way. He doesn’t want you to go babbling on about his plans or how he is behind closed doors. That information cannot be getting out. So no, you will not be allowed any magic or spells to help you communicate. 

He will open up to you on occasion in private. The longer you’re together, the more safe he feels like confiding in you. If you feign sympathy, or if you are in fact sympathetic to his backstory, he’ll feel something akin to love for you. It’s not quite love. It’s much more logical, more calculating and pragmatic than that. But it’s about as close as you’d get with him. 

Likes how you have little to no choice other than to stay at his side and listen to him intently. He loves watching all your little apprehensive reactions when beckons you closer and pulls you into his lap. How your pulse races, how your breath quickens, he knows how his proximity makes you feel, even if you can’t open your mouth to speak the words. Besides, he’s very sure your mouth will be good for, let’s just say, other things. 

He will allow you to write him little notes here and there, but only in his office, and only when no one else is around. He’s rather paranoid that way. But he’s also rather pleased how it means you must keep seeking him out during his working hours. He’s under no false impression that he's the kindest lover. But you can’t leave him. You need him. He’s the only one who’s allowed to understand you. And he intends to keep it that way. 

Raphael: 

Like Gortash, Raphael feels a sort of sick satisfaction over the fact you can’t talk back to him. But then on the other hand, he feels a sort of sick disappointment that he can’t torture you into making all those sweet pathetic noises for him. So it’s 50/50 with him. 

He will consider giving you a voice via deviant magic if it means he can hear you beg. It drives him absolutely wild, and he refuses to go completely without it. Takes said voice away if you venture too far into brat territory, or you directly insult him. It’s a privilege for you to even look upon him, how dare you use the gift he gave you against him?

Has Harleep babysit you when he isn’t there. You can’t exactly call for help, and Raphael’s house isn’t safe for you to be wandering about unsupervised. 

Enjoys the look of pure frustration on your face when you try learning to write in Infernal, only to fail miserably. He thinks you’re adorable all revved up. He will read the notes you write in Common, he just doesn’t always respond to them. Despite his refusal to acknowledge most of them, you can tell he understands them, based on how large that vein on his forehead gets lol.

He will let you choose whether or not to have a voice during certain moments of pleasure; well, mostly pleasure. He loves the little gasps and moans you make, it fuels his lust for you even more. Then again, he doesn’t need to hear the sweet cries of your pretty voice to know whether he’s on the right track. ‘I can sense your heartbeat, little mouse,’ he'll whisper to you. Your body reveals to Raphael all there is to know, whether you want it to or not. 

The Emperor: 

It literally doesn’t matter. Dude’s telepathic lol. 

Wishes you’d become an illithid so you’d be telepathic too. Almost doesn’t take no for an answer on that one. 

Ultimately ends up relishing in the fact he alone can understand you- your wants, your needs, your dreams, and hopes. It makes him feel all the more powerful. 

Will give you the play-by-play about the Nether Brain and the Chosen Three because he’s been dying to tell someone, and he knows you can’t go running in the streets telling everyone and ruining his hopes of manipulation. Mainly because you don’t talk but also because he’s not letting you leave his realm lol, no way in hell. 

If you really don’t feel at home here, ‘You could always,’ he’ll suggest coyly, ‘Become one of us.’ You don’t even have to shake your head to tell him ‘no’. Your facial expression does all the talking for that one. 

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back. 

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both. 

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before. 

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend. 

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second. 

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him. 

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion. 

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!” 

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair. 

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.” 

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words. 

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!” 

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously. 

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him. 

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering. 

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters. 

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have. 

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches. 

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity. 

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs. 

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one. 

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet. 

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror. 

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.” 

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh. 

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.” 

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form. 

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort. 

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.” 

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it. 

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago. 

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama. 

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce. 

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas. 

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.” 

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat. 

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.” 

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.” 

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort. 

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap. 

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle. 

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff. 

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?” 

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement. 

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead. 

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect. 

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously. 

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face. 

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door. 

Eddie though, he starts chuckling. 

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more. 

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you. 

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.” 

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch. 

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.” 

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy. 

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers. 

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers. 

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything. 

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm. 

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music. 

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related. 

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face. 

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively. 

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.” 

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.” 

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks. 

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.” 

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen. 

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin. 

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard. 

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt. 

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else. 

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t. 

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was. 

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees. 

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first. 

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda. 

Steve chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you. 

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch. 

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face. 

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him. 

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling. 

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes. 

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.” 

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.” 

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask. 

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips. 

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it. 

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile. 

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you. 

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes. 

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!” 

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you. 

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again. 

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head. 

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance. 

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise. 

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder. 

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again. 

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan. 

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing. 

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum. 

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again. 

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side. 

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued. 

“I never got to taste it,” you pout. 

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either. 

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent. 

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum. 

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it. 

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp. 

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare. 

Got you. He thinks. 

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle. 

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy? 

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened. 

Because it was nothing… to him. 

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.” 

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?” 

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks. 

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not. 

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw. 

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear. 

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.” 

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again. 

He left you speechless. 

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.” 

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink. 

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face. 

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does. 

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other. 

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness. 

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have. 

You look down, frowning at your drink. 

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table. 

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him. 

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning. 

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly. 

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.  

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?” 

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.” 

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers. 

“Two sips.” 

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him. 

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you. 

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P. 

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm. 

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp. 

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you. 

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too. 

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously. 

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you? 

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little. 

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face. 

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question. 

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning. 

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington. 

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries. 

Joyce looks down in amusement. 

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike. 

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow. 

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face. 

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up. 

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table. 

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech. 

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand. 

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.” 

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little. 

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.” 

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.” 

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved. 

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again. 

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it. 

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you. 

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this. 

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.” 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. 

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness. 

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh. 

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?” 

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly. 

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!” 

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple. 

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes. 

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.” 

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be. 

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily. 

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!” 

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike. 

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle. 

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours. 

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you. 

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you. 

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans. 

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway. 

What the hell. 

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous. 

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve. 

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is. 

“Running away from me?” Steve asks. 

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights. 

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door. 

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time. 

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you. 

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?” 

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car. 

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.” 

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw. 

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car. 

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight. 

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word. 

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat. 

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it. 

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him. 

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’ 

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along. 

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something. 

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day. 

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers. 

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something. 

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him. 

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting. 

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long. 

He was guided by lust, not by interest. 

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you. 

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you. 

But it’s something that will never happen again. 

He swears, it will never happen again. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

[venerawrites]

For Gaara, shino, sai, neji

A cutesy girly s/o but really great at fist fighting and overall has great strength and durable in any mission.

Like she can literally lift a whole man who harassed her and shit (maybe snap his spine into two 😔✌️)

author's note: can I just say how excited I am to finally get a request involving Neji? Like, my boy is super underappreciated :/ anyway, writing this one was so fun and I do hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for requesting! <3

Gaara

Gaara liked you the first time he saw you.

You were so innocent and sweet looking, he was greatly surprised once you mentioned you were a shinobi.

Now, of course, he has met dozens of strong women who were excellent ninjas (such as Tsunade or Sakura), so it's not like he did not believe females could be good fighters.

But with your well-put outfit (that looked beautiful but highly impractical for fighting), soft skin, that looked free of any battle scars, and delicate hands, that seemed too gentle to be the hands of a warrior, he found it hard to believe you.

So during the Fourth Shinobi War, he gave a piece of his mind to the Hokage for letting you on the battlefield. You were supposed to be safe in the village, something he specifically asked his friends from the Leaf to ensure.

Naturally, he tried to keep an eye on you and protect you as much as he could during the battle...

But when he witnessed with his own two eyes the way you picked up one of the enemy's soldiers, lifted them over your head, and slammed them into the ground, thus resulting in their body being cracked in two, his jaw dropped.

And if possible, he found himself even more attracted to you!

So after the war it didn't take long for you two to develop a relationship, with him finding an excuse to travel to Konoha every two weeks before he asked you to move to Suna.

Now... Maybe a bit shocking, but both his siblings were definitely NOT fans when they first met you.

Temari thought you were too girly and shallow, and openly voiced her opinion that it is "ninja-wannabes" like you that give a bad name to female shinobi. Like how could you be a warrior if you are so into your looks?

Kankuro also shared her opinion, but his disapproval was based on his concern of how sincere you were about his brother. Like did you like him for HIM or did you just like his title?

Both quickly changed their opinion, once you managed to defeat Temari during a sparring match. Not only did you earn their respect that day, but it was also the beginning of two beautiful friendships.

Gaara, on the other hand, secretly loved the fact that instead of letting people's opinions get to you, you used their doubt to your advantage.

He is definitely the dominant half in your relationship - I imagine that no matter how strong you are, you enjoy being taken care of. Also, he is still a stronger ninja than you, so I don't really think he would be threatened by your strength in any way.

Gaara loves to treat you like a princess - he pampers you, buys you gifts, and lets you have anything you want.

I can't help but DO imagine him with someone who is very girly and feminine, maybe a little bit spoiled as well lol..

He would have great respect for you as a shinobi, but I feel he would still be worried about sending you on missions, so when he can he would try and send Kankuro with you.

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

Shino

To be honest, I don't really think he cares that much...

Like, in order to start dating in the first place, you need to know each other at least for a few years. By then he was well aware of your strength, so it was not really a surprise for him.

I think the shock element with Shino is actually falling in love with someone who is very girly and cute.

I feel he would naturally always be more attracted to tomboy-looking girls, who were quiet, reserved, and shared similar interests to him.

You were the complete opposite of that - not only your style was very feminine, but you were also loud, bubbly and were not particularly fond of anything related to insects or nature.

The fact that you were polar opposites, however, is what made you so compatible.

I imagine you would start hanging out after you were assigned a mission to retrieve some scrolls from the Hidden Stone Village.

Like I said, he would not be surprised by how strong you are, but seeing you in action during a fight would be a completely new experience for him.

He would be very impressed with your skills and would compliment them, making you blush crimson red.

I always imagined Shino as quite blunt guy, so I think he would be totally okay with sharing with you the fact that before being assigned to a mission together, he thought of you as a rather ignorant girl.

Do not get offended tho, boy just always speaks out loud his thoughts...

It would be a surprise for everyone to see you coming back from your mission hand in hand.

I feel out of all of the boys on the list, Shino would be the one who would rub his influence on you the most - after getting with him, you are more interested in joining him in his little expeditions of discovering new species rather than doing your usual Friday shopping routine.

He doesn't really like discussing work or anything relating to his missions with others, but after a drink or two on a night out, he WOULD boast about you and your abilities.

"She is both very beautiful and also an extremely skilful ninja... Of course, I feel lucky to have her, Kiba!"

His favourite thing is watching you deal with men that try to flirt with you... usually, it takes only 5 minutes, before they are laying flat on the ground. He wouldn't admit it, but he finds it rather funny.

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

Sai

LITERALLY the first thing he said to you after Naruto introduced you to each other was: "I find you very physically attractive and I would like to get to know you more."

You, usually pretty confident and self-assured individual, immediately started blushing, nervously twirling the ends of your hair.

What happened to "Hello?", "How are you?", "My name is.."??

He would compliment you a lot, about how cute you are, how he likes your style, and how you have to be the most beautiful girl in Konoha.

I totally see him as someone with 0 social awareness, so very probable to make you uncomfortable at the beginning.

When you got paired with Team 7 for a mission, he saw your true strength for the first time.

He always thought you were some type of sensory ninja or a medic... but definitely not a fighter. You were too sweet and innocent-looking to be a fighter.

Yet, here you were, punching rogue ninjas left and right, making them fly in the air from the impact.

Now, Naruto and Sakura pay you no mind - you have been training with them for years, and they know very well what are you capable of.

Sai, however, is utterly shocked and terrified.

Who were you and what happened to the sweet Y/N?

He would probably distance himself a bit, feeling scared that if he says or asks something inappropriate, you wouldn't hesitate to knock him out just like Sakura had done before.

You would have to be the one to seek him out, showing him that you are not a violent person and there is no reason for him to be scared of you.

After that, he would get back to his old ways of always complimenting you and showering you with gifts.

This guy is OBSESSED with you. Literally.

He would always make sketches of you, shyly giving them to you once they are finished.

He is also the only one who I see actively taking part in your hobbies, such as shopping, spa days or/and reading romantic books. Sai wants to get to know you as much as possible and he is not ashamed to be caught doing "girly" things with you.

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

Neji

Enemies to lovers type of story here...

While you were growing up, Neji thought that you were both very weak and annoying - probably the worst combination of traits for a person to have.

Constantly fixing your appearance and thinking more of having a cute outfit, rather than being safe, he would constantly give you side eyes and mutter degrading comments about you under his breath.

You, on the other hand, would think he was stuck up and rude, thus resulting in quite severe bickering between you two. At some point, it will get so bad, that they would have to keep your teams apart and with as little contact as possible.

For the next few years, you would have very minimal interactions with Neji (most of the time consisting of you passing each other on the street or somehow resulting in the same company during dinner).

One day you were both hanging out at Ichiraku Ramen, when a man decided to come next to you and start complimenting you. You politely accepted his first few compliments, but the more he kept going, the more uncomfortable you got.

Now Neji may dislike you, but he was raised as a gentleman and he was not about to let a lady be harassed.

He had just started walking toward you when the man tried to grab your arm and in response, you punched him so hard, that he literally flew through the wall.

Neji froze in his place, completely dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed.

You, on the other hand, just dusted your hands, fixed your hair, and joined your friends again.

He would not admit it, even way after you were already a couple, but this was the day when his opinion of you changed completely.

He started to join some of your training practices with Lee, always saying that he did not expect you to be there (he totally knew, that's the reason he was there in the first place).

He would soon start to train with you, impressed by how well you held yourself against him.

He would probably still win. Despite you being so strong, he was still the better strategist between you two.

Would totally enjoy pinning you down, forcing you to surrender though.

I imagine both of you would keep up the façade of pretending to hate each other till the tension gets too much and you just end up kissing after one of your fights.

He would totally still make fun of you for being so girly and cute looking, but now instead of mocking, it was more of a flirty teasing.

He would be very proud of you and would always watch in amazement at the way you were dealing with your enemies, but secretly, he would always be worried for you and would try to intervene in your fights and protect you.

Just like Gaara, I imagine that he would be the more dominant one in the relationship and would take his roles as your protector and provider very seriously.

His family totally loves you tbh, which would definitely boost his ego even more.

cc artwork: Joshua Raphael

[jazjelspen]

devil's spawn.

angel alastor w/ radio demon daughter reader

(notes: based off of the concept of my other story 'my angel baby' except alastor and his adopted daughter switch places and personalities. In Alastor's pov (?)in this chapter.)

(caution: RUSHED!! definitely rushed qwq so I greatly apologize. Not proofread in the slightest. Might have cringe parts am so sorriy qwq)

(Alastor is still in a way the angel version of 'the radio demon' except he's called 'the radio angel' by his fans, but he doesn't refer to himself as such since angel alastor is actually humble)

(I'm willing to make another part but considering Hs becoming more stressful and it blowing my brain up it'll definitely take time, but always willing to make more if wanted/needed)

It was another bright and fresh day in heaven, Alastor clinging the laundry up on the line while his mother, whom he managed to find in his decades inside the pearly gates, sat on a rocking chair reading a book as she usually would.

The bright heavenly lights making his halo shine, complimenting his wings, other neighborly 'winners' he would be acquainted with would walk by and greet him with a wave or a tip of their hats to him while he was outside fixing their clothes.

In this particular universe, Alastor is the complete opposite of his original counterpart. Where the original Alastor would hurt and destroy, this version of him would care and heal. He was selfless, kind, compassionate and sympathetic to which again is also a complete twist around compared his original self.

Alastor died out of an accidental kill, mistaken for a deer and shot through the head while he was out in the forest collecting his adoptive daughter's favorite flowers, at her favorite flower meadow on the day of her eighteenth birthday.

Unfortunately due to missing his baby girl's birthday and being taken away from her too soon for his liking he has been living in pure regret, panic, and pure sorrow form having to leave her too early and it pained him everyday.

He raised you all by himself while juggling his passion for radio hosting, finding comfort in your innocence and smiles when he first found you and as you grew up you gave him a reason to live and work.

That's the only thing that him and the original sadistic version Alastor have in common; the fatherly love for their daughters who are also their entire lives. Their love traverses across universes.

Eventually the more you grew up the more.. peculiar and unique you became.. your innocence would melt away with a sadistic fire in your eyes that he would notice at times but would try his best to lead you in the ways of love and compassion which you had for him but lacked for those around you..

Alastor was finishing up his morning chores for his mother's home before he would eventually go back inside and get a few necessities before leaving his home. His pearly coat, his shining microphone staff, fix his appearance in the mirror just a tad, and finally hugging his mother goodbye from the porch to head up and down the street towards the main part of the city.

Yes, he was still a radio host as well too.

Instead of broadcasting screams of pain and terror from sinners he instead would give voices to those who wished to express their passions, interview everyday folk and influential people on opinions and advice to those listening to his radio show and he even has good connections and acquaintances to the high Seraphims of heaven in order to get the latest news in the ruling of heaven.

He's just as famous as he was in life, maybe more considering how many people there are in heaven alone.

His polished shoes creating sounds on the pavement as he hummed a special tune that he adores, a tune he used to sing to you. Yet again still greeting passing by acquaintances and fans of his show with genuine glee and care.

Alastor waved off to an old friend while walking by, shining his taken cared for smile. "Good to see you again Roger, don't forget to tune in soon in a few hours! It'll be a real gas so don't miss i-- oh my!"

Alastor looked down as he seemed to bump into someone small, looking down at his feet he saw a young little girl. Another fellow 'winner' she seemed to have bumped into him with chocolate smeared around her mouth with a giddy yet apologetic smile on her face. And unfortunately smeared some chocolate on his pants.

"Hiya mister!" she waved, showing her dirtied little hand as well "Sorries! I didn't watch where I was going..!"

Alastor noticed the stain and his jaw hung slightly from surprise but then immediately laughed it off, petting the young girl on the head in understanding.

"Oh little one, don't worry about it at all! Here, so you can clean yourself up." He then took a white embroidered handkerchief for his chest pocket to give to the little girl who then wiped her face and her hands, seeing her struggle a bit Alastor graciously held her hands gently to wipe them off for her and her nose as well.

"Mary!" A voice exclaimed that approached, a woman than came into view, a winner as well. "Oh! Well if it isn't our most kind radio host! I deeply apologize about my daughter sir.." The mother would smile sheepishly and apologetically. "Thank you so much for helping my little girl, I apologize for her clumsiness! Could I perhaps offer you help of any kind?..”

Alastor shook his head as he would then neatly fold the handkerchief and saved it in his coat this time so that he could remember to wash it when he got back home. "Oh no no! No need ma'am, it's nothing a little magic can't cover up for the time being!" He smiled at the woman who now had her hands placed on her daughter's shoulders with a sigh slipping through her lips. He looked down at the girl as he gave her a pat on the head "On the other hand, are you okay dear? I do hope you didn't hit yourself too hard!.."

The little girl shook her head as well in reply, "Nu-uh mister! Thank you for helping me! I promise not to bump into anymore misters or any misseses!" Oh her messing up of words ringed a bell in his head

"How darling! Take care of yourself and your mother now, " He looked up at the woman to then lower his head slightly in respect before resuming his steps again "Apologies for the rush, just trying to see if I can get some special guests on my radio show tonight!"

The woman waved at him 'goodbye' with her young girl following suit "Oh I sure hope they agree! Good day to you Alastor!"

"Good day to you as well madame!" he waved back as he finally took enough steps away from them to now get a clearer view of the inside of the city.

He couldn't help but sigh in despair, he remembers when he used to have his own little girl.

Took care of her as if she was his own blood, as if they came form the same flesh and heritage.

And although you didn't, he never loved you any less.

His smile faltered slightly but picked it up quickly, rushing towards the next moving tram that he recognized to get to his destination: the middle of the city. Once he saw one and hopped on, he could feel his heart pump with blood he once had as red and now as gold as the tears of the elder angels.

If what he heard was right, he would try to get a segment with three special guests from hell.

Sure, he knew that they came from a place of bad and evil but that didn't deter him any less. From life to death he would give voices to everyone that needed to be heard and he would follow it no matter where someone came from.

The fresh breezes and the smell of bakeries, restaurants, the sounds of workers in mom and pop shops and independent growing businesses were like music. He could've sworn that even the laughter of children and the chattering of friends, couples, and families amongst each other turned into melodies in through his brain circuits.

Heaven was.. heaven.

But his only sin was not speaking out at heaven's hypocrisy or flaws at times. Many times he would but it turned into heaven setting restrictions on him.. silencing his own voice. He was never fond of that but apparently according to Sera and that blasphemous Adam, it was required. 'To avoid panic and prevent disturbances amongst the people of heaven' or so they'd say.

He was working on a way to go around that.. change their minds. But it was much harder than he anticipated.

Oh!-- The tram stopped with a loud hiss and ring.

Alastor snapped out of his thoughts would hop off the tram and finally start resuming his walk. He was now just a block away, the more he walked the less the voices and sounds of work distanced, entering a quieter part of the city. He was now in the smack middle of the entrance to heaven, where ice cream shops were laid in rows, cafes as well, people quietly chatting and drinking their beverages or eating their food.

Oh! And he could heard a familiar tune! It was that one.. welcome song that St. Peter would often sing..

Not a favorite song of his.. at all.. but he applauded them for effort!

Maybe a splash of swing or jazz would bring it to life.. but he assumed that was the old man in him talking.

For the time being he decided to watch some place nearby yet not too close since he knew that if he stayed where he was he would be caught up in the performance and he would have to sing with them..

Waiting at the side and hearing the singing come closer and close Alastor would make himself busy by polishing his microphone with his breathe and sleeve, fixing and dusting himself off as to not give any bad first impressions.

And thankfully he managed to remember his stain that the little girl left-- forgetting about it due to wanting to get to his destination on time and helping the poor thing. With a gentle swish of his staff pointed at the stained he then managed to cover it with his heaven-given magic.

Once the full group performance made his way towards his direction was when he stood up straight, chin high, shoulders fixed, looking good as always Alastor.

He heard Emily's voice among the performance, the youngest of the two Seraphims.

He's quite close with the two, at first only starting as something for business until one day he got closer to them and confessed his past, and his regrets.

Emily reminds him much of his daughter, the high angel having an enthusiasm and mentality of a late teenager or young woman, same age his daughter was when he last saw her.

He thought, wondered, pondered, dreamed-- what his little girl grew up into.

His eyes stared at his microphone, the shine of silver blinding him when he turned it for a spot of sunshine to burn his eyes slightly.

Did she grow up into an incredible woman? Did she ever find love? Settle down and have children? How has she matured? Does she resent him for leaving him so soon even if he never meant to? Does she look completely different? Did she ever change her name?

Were you even up here at all?

He hopes you were, looking and asking for you far and wide in heaven. Did you seclude yourself? Did you hide from him on purpose?

Or were you simply in hell..

No-- his little girl couldn't be in hell. Sure she had concerning hobbies, thoughts, ways of doing things but it didn't deserve her going to hell of all places.

You had to be up here, somewhere.. you had to.

A somber sigh escaped his lips as he stared at his reflection in the object between his palms and fingers. His heavy heart tugging and ripping itself apart.

'my little girl.. where are you?'

"Alastor!! Hey!"

A young voice shouted at him from afar, looking up he saw Emily wave and ushered him to head towards her way from afar.

He let go of his guilt for now, and shined his iconic smile as always.

"Why hello Emily, Sera," he lowered his head at the high angels in respect for them "How may I help you ladies today? I see we have new visitors!" His head moved to look at the other three ladies in front of him that came from below.

There was a young woman with eyes that shared the same enthusiasm as Emily's did, hair of sunshine and gold, fangs as sharp reminiscing those of a blood bat, small and thin frame and an outfit that successfully mimics casual sophistication.

Another young girl to her right was one that seemed more reminiscent of an angel, her long hair filled with silver and moon, a gaze as sharp as broken, stance serious and unapologetic, she seemed ready to protect the blonde girl beside her but also had eyes of worry and a sense of uncomfortability haunted her features and her almost slouched back.

The last one, really shook him up.

The next young woman to the left of the blonde girl was adorned in nothing but pure red with tones of a deep hot pink in her entire look. Her clothes were of an era he knew of very well, of course he'd recognize clothes from the 30s!.. except they had a few odd touches that more or so reminded him of the 40s or heck maybe even 50s.. a bit more ahead of his time. She had a large sharp smile that screamed of mischief and eyes that are waiting to do something-- anything sinister.

Despite all this, these characteristics weren’t the ones that shook him to his core.

She looked like someone he knew, that he missed.

"Everyone, this is Alastor. He's heaven's most famous and influential radio host! Giving voices to the voiceless when he was alive and even more up here, and of course due to his selfless acts when he was alive he was blessed to be let through the gates of heaven." spoke Sera, introducing the 'winner' as he chuckled sheepishly.

"Oh thank you Sera, but it's nothing really! Just had to do what was right."

Sera then lead his eyes back to the newcomers, having him face directly to the girl with hair of sunshine first. "Alastor, I present to you the Princess of Hell and heir to the throne, Charlie Morningstar. She's here to present a few ideas to the court the next day."

Alastor's eyes widened in surprise, "Princess! I didn't know royalty were to visit us today!" he bowed down towards the girl as to pay his respects, standing back straight once he finished. "A pleasure to meet you sweetheart quite the pleasure! Didn't expect our guests to be of royalty so apologies to any bad manners."

The princess shook her head with a large smile "Oh!-- don't worry you didn't give off any bad manners! It's nice to meet you too Mr...Alastor!.. it.. it's very admirable what you did before and what you do now! You seem to have earned your place here quite well!"

The man shook his head as well in reply "Oh like I said it's nothing! If anything I should thank my daughter, she was my reason and my motivation to be nothing but kind to others to present a good example! I continue to do so in her honor."

Charlie's eyes grew as a soft 'awwww' escaped her lips "You must love your daughter very much..!"

Alastor nodded, "Of course I do! As a father always should!"

Charlie opened her mouth again to speak, her eyes filled with a sense of bittersweetness until she was suddenly interrupted by the young woman dressed in red. She walked in between Alastor and Charlie with a sense of charm and enthusiasm, the spirit of a presenter or spokesperson shining in her body language and way of speaking.

"How delightful! The love of a parent transcends heaven and earth! Now that's poetry!" the girl's voice was glitched out and heavily amplified with a strong sound of static, as if her vocal cords came straight from a radio speaker. She held a staff much similar to his, except her's was shorter and more compact-able.

The girl with silver hair rolled her eyes in nothing but pure irritation, Charlie giggled nervously as she then pointed her way towards the one who spoke. "And this is ______! She's the founder and host of my hotel back in hell! She's helped me throughout everything and I dont think I would be able to get to this point if It weren't for her help as well!"

Ah,

He knew it.

______, anyone could have that name.

But you looked like his daughter, his pride and joy.

His face still shines with a smile but his eyes are baffled with the sudden hit of realization.

It couldn't be a coincidence-- you looked like her, your eyes had that spark he always used to see in his daughter before he left. The way of speaking, that stance-- more confident and mature but the way you spoke.. your vocals were a match to his daughter's just with a touch of years to it.

And you looked at him as if you knew as well, eyes narrowing with piqued interest. Sharp smile widening an-

wait..

what?..--

You seemed to have almost hopped right in front of him with your hand suddenly shaking his. "A real pleasure to meet you sir! Quite the pleasure!"

You mimicked his greeting yet somehow you spoke it so naturally, as if spoken a billion times before. He was stunned, if there weren't people around he would've slipped and broken down right here right now--

but he cannot, will not.

He will not worry others, he will not bother others with his emotions.

"Good to meet you Ms.."

"______. Simply call me ______." Your sinister grin only stretched, a sense of despair fell into the pit of his stomach,

His little girl in hell?

Did he.. fail at raising you?

Was dying too soon the reason why you let yourself fall?

Whatever the case, Alastor was nothing but stuck in a small limbo of his own guilt again

If he did this to you-- even indirectly,

he wouldn't ever forgive himself.

"Ms.. ______..."

'my little girl' he would've said, 'my daughter, how I've missed you. please forgive me for leaving you so soon... I'm so so sorry my darling..'

the words were stuck to his throat.

a small gust of air was the only thing that escaped from his cords.

Sera clapped her hands together once as a way to announce, "Well Princess Morningstar. I hope your stay here is nothing but comfortable, and I say that to your companions as well."

Sera looked at the 'winner' with confusion and a sense of concern but she knew she had to leave due to duties calling for her and Emily's presence.

Sera gently put her hand on his shoulder, "Alastor, would you perhaps show them where their hotel is and how to check in? It's going to be the one nearby."

'the one nearby' he thought, 'a block away.. '

"of course! anything to make our guests feel more welcomed!"

Sera nodded in 'thanks' before flying off with Emily on her side, herself also waving goodbye to all of you as well.

Alastor paused, before finally turning his head at the girls.

"Well, let's get you all to where you'll stay for the time being!.."

He will find out what happened to you, what went wrong, how he messed up.. he'll beg for forgiveness from you. for you were and still are his reason for who he is.

you were his one and only daughter, he will make it up to you.

"Follow me now! Time isn't going any slower!"

Little did he know, he wasn't at fault at all.

You were just born that way.

You knew what you were and you embraced it as a way to cope from him being taken away from you.

Of course you had to blend in and you took on the mantle of taking over your late father's radio show, eventually becoming as famous as he was and you were nothing but just as charming as he was on his show.

But then you killed, the power imbalance favoring you was nothing but amazing to you.

Years later, you enjoyed it. Killing was your life's purpose. Your crimes were never a subject for you to ever regret or feel guilt for.

You regret nothing.

You were a merciless killer then, and one now.

Through earth and hell, forevermore.