#YOU REALLY DID SUCH A GOOD JOB. THIS WAS EVEN BETTER THAN I FIST IMAGINE IT AOOUGUH

[beeholyshit]

"She's a Killer Queen Gunpowder, gelatine Dynamite with a laser beam"

BEAUTIFUL ART MADE BY @jils-things THANK YOU GIRL 🩷

[lambertdiary]

NSFW!! if i can make my request could you write somthing about mike and reader being in a relationship and she takes care of abby when he's working and one day he comes back sad and upset cuz he's been fired and she comforts him?? and yk i feel like he might be a little sub when it comes to doing it

A/N: Hey!! This is my first time writing for this lovely character, so please let me know what you think of this! Also thank you so much for your request, please keep them coming

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: NSFW, smut, brief hand job, blowjob, sub!mike x dom!reader, praise kink, unprotected sex, FNAF movie spoilers

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

After A Bad Day

Mike was driving back home from the mall, his hands gripping the wheel a little tighter than usual. He had just been fired from his job, again. He needed that job if he wanted to keep custody of his sister, he needed to look good on paper since he didn’t think a judge would want Abby to live with his unemployed brother. 

The incident that caused him his job was something he wasn’t proud of, but if he was being completely honest it wasn’t even his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right, but his boss did not like that explanation.

He got out of the car as he held his belongings, taking a deep breath as he opened the front door. There was only one thing worse than getting fired, and that was having to tell his girlfriend about it.

“Hey” She greeted him as soon as he walked through the door.

“Hi” He greeted her back, but walked straight to the kitchen counter to drop off the stuff he was holding. It had been a long day and he didn’t wanna have to face her after losing his job, not yet.

“How was your day?” “It was good” He simply said, his short response giving her a heads up that something was off “Yours?”

“Really good actually, I managed to bond with Abby a little better during dinner. I think I’m in one of her drawings but she won’t tell me”

“I can imagine”

She left the couch and tried to approach him without coming off too strong, if something was off then she didn’t want to overwhelm him, so she stopped when she was close enough “I made spaghetti if you’re hungry”

“Thanks. Where’s Abby?”

“She went to her room a while ago, I’m pretty sure she’s sleeping now”

“Did she eat her dinner?”

“I tried my best but you know her”

“Yeah” He turned around to face her, revealing his injured fists.

“What happened to you? Are you okay?” Y/N approached him completely, her hands going straight to his.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna go take a shower” He freed himself from her grip as he started to make his way to his bathroom.

“Mike…” She stopped him, her glance asking for an explanation when he turned to meet her gaze.

“It was stupid, don’t worry about it”

“What happened?”

Mike stayed silent for a moment, struggling to spit the words out “I uh- I got fired”

“Oh my god Mike, I’m sorry” She could see the disappointment in his face. She knew it was hard for him and she wanted to help, but sometimes he would lock himself up and not let her in “What happened?”

“It was a misunderstanding”

“How?” He simply shook his head, his eyes falling to the ground “What did you do?”

“It doesn’t matter… Look, we can talk about it later, okay? I just need to get my mind off things and take a shower”

She nodded and slowly closed the distance between their bodies, her arms going around his neck “Why don’t you get the shower started while I check on Abby? And I can join you if you want” Her words lingered in the air for a moment as Mike gathered his thoughts. There was a lot going on in his mind. Getting fired, having to look for a new job, the possibility of losing custody of his sister, but it all faded slowly when he was with her “Still there?” She asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“So you’re not mad at me? You wanna join me in the shower?” 

“Of course I’m not mad at you, and I think that you need to relax. You’re right, get your mind off things and we can talk about it later” She guided him to the couch, sitting next to him as one of her hands fell on his knee, tracing small circles on it “Does that sound good?”

“Y- yeah”

“Are you having a stressful day, baby?” He nodded softly, his tongue wetting his lips quickly “You know, I can help with that” Her hand started to rise up his leg, getting closer and closer to his crotch area.

He swallowed hard as he watched her hand, his trousers getting tighter by the second. She was taking her sweet time, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as her amusement grew watching him get desperate for contact.

She fell to her knees in front of him, her hands spreading his legs to make enough space for her between them “Wanna get rid of these?” She asked, tugging at his bottoms and he just nodded.

He watched and he patiently waited. She imagined him enjoying the tension of anticipation as she hooked her fingers around the sides of his trousers and slowly, slowly, agonisingly slowly worked them down his legs until they pooled around his ankles. She decided to tease him a bit longer, so she admired his cock covered only by the thick black cotton of his boxers that was just a few centimetres away from her face. She dragged her palm over the lump and watched his eyes widen. He breathed a sigh at the contact, the pressure in his stomach releasing just the smallest bit at the relief. She didn’t break eye contact once, she loved to see the effect she had on him.

After just a moment, her hand slid under the waistband of his boxers, her cold hands against his hot skin caused a hiss to leave his mouth as she curled her fingers around his thickness. She laid her cheek on his thigh, watching each pass of her own hand over his cock.

“Do you want me to take you?” She asked him, expecting an obvious answer from him, but she repeated her question when she didn’t hear a single word fall from his mouth “Mhm, do you?”

“Yes, please” He replied in a desperate tone.

A smile appeared on her face. She sat up straight and positioned herself better between his legs, her mouth slowly approaching his cock as he completely got rid of his pants and boxers. She took the base and her fingers barely connected around his cock, a sight that made him moan on his own.

He was looking down at her with his eyes begging for more, his breath staining when he felt the spit she had collected in her mouth go down his cock. She pressed her soft lips against his head, opening her mouth a little wider when she started to slide down his prick. 

A choked moan left his throat at the feeling. She stopped immediately and looked up at him “You have to be quiet, we don’t wanna wake Abby up, do we?” He shook his head, his mouth slightly open “Good boy”

She went back and took him again, hollowing her cheeks around him and her head bobbing painfully slowly. She repeated the motions a few more times but never fully pulled back, and he could feel her warm tongue at different spots and his cum glossing over her lips.

The entire time he was trying his best to stay quiet, he knew he had to, but he couldn’t help himself with how good she was making him feel. He let out a soft moan as her head continued to pump his base to meet with her lips, and as her pace began to quicken the more desperate he was getting for a release. 

It was taking everything in him to keep it together right now, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to try and calm his urges. He let out a long breath, he needed more but he knew he had to be patient, but a particularly good suck made him involuntarily buck his hips up a bit. His eyes shot open as her hand lightly smacked the side of his thigh, warning him.

“Sorry, sorry, I- I’m sorry”

She continued to take him, and he was repeating in his mind he had to be more careful, but it was hard with the sight of his cock disappearing between her lips and her spit coating in his cock.

He was thankful when she started to go faster and deeper, she was sucking and licking repeatedly, her tongue tracing the vein along his cock as the weight laid heavy in her mouth. The pressure in his stomach was tightening with each pass of her mouth, letting both of them know he was close. He almost begged her to keep going, but the words ‘Don’t stop’ got stuck in his throat and a soft whimper replaced them. She had done that before, taking away the pleasure just moments before his release, but she wasn’t planning on doing that today, not when he was already having a hard day.

One of fists was taking a handful of the couch and the other was placed over his thigh, his nails digging his skin every time he felt his tip brush the back of her throat. The feeling of her spit drooling down onto his balls was what pushed him over the edge, and there was nothing he could do about it but cum.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming” He moaned as quiet as he could. 

Her thumb circling his hand gave him the permission he was waiting for. It only took a couple more passes of her soft lips before he was shooting his release down her throat, his eyes screwing shut as he tried hard to keep every sound as low as possible.

She was working him through his orgasm, licking and swallowing every single drop of cum he was giving her. Once she took all of it, she pulled back, the smallest lick of her pink tongue rolling over his head to collect the last drop of release that was still there and a thin line of spit and cum was connecting his cock and her lips before breaking and falling over her chin.

Her gaze was glassy, her lips swollen and her hair a bit of a mess, but he swore that it was the most beautiful sight he had ever laid eyes on.

“Do you feel better, baby?” Her voice was as soft and innocent as ever, only adding to the filthy scene.

He swallowed hard before answering “Yes” 

“Good. Are you gonna join me in the shower then?”

He watched her as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, his eyes following her. He wanted to get up and run to the bathroom, but he was still recovering from his orgasm.

“Mike” She whispered when she made it there, waiting for him to follow her “I’ll be waiting for you”

She entered completely and Mike heard the water running so he immediately got up, bursted into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. She smiled when she saw him, the bottom part of his outfit still gone.

Y/N let her sweats fall to the floor, her top joining shortly after. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath and she could almost hear him willing her to turn around to let him see more than just her naked back.

He decided to get rid of the rest of his clothes when she stepped into the shower. He joined her and he secretly admired her naked body. 

She finally turned around, giving him a full view of her front, and her lips found his right away, he could taste the traces of his cum still on her lips. His hands travelled up and down her back as her hands landed on his hair. She lightly pulled his head back to give her more neck space, kissing and softly biting down his neck.

With the water muffling any sounds, he allowed himself to let out a moan slip past his lips “It’s my turn to come, yeah?” She whispered as her hand went down his body, finding his hardening cock.

He nodded frantically as his hips betrayed him again with a buck against her hand, but she let it slide this time. He rolled his head back to feel the water run down his face, taking a deep breath before grabbing her hips and lifting her up, holding her with her back against the wall. 

They started kissing again, this time more desperate for each other, but especially Y/N who had been getting uncomfortably and painfully wet between her legs the moment she went down on him. Her front was pressed against his and she could feel his hard pressing against her tummy.

“Go on baby, I want you inside me” His response was a low grunt, so he positioned himself and slid his aching cock inside her, slowly moving in and out until she asked for more. He was going deeper with each thrust, and her eyes began welling up with tears at the complete ecstasy coursing through her veins. He went even deeper, hitting her special spot just right. Her walls began to tighten around every inch of him as his brows furrowed in pleasure.

“Faster” She whimpered and he happily obliged.

He quickly picked up a faster pace, her breathing becoming stained at the motions as her nails scratched down his back.

“Play with my clit baby, I know you can handle it” Her words made him moan but he did as she said. He positioned his left arm better to be able to hold her with it alone while his right hand found her clit between their bodies, the immediate feeling of pressure making her head fuzzy.

He motioned slightly faster, this time making small circles around it. The pressure had her crumbling against him almost instantly, as soon as he felt her legs begin to shake against him he started to thrust deeper into her. 

By the way her eyes squeezed shut he knew she was close, and so was he, but he had to wait a little longer this time. Finally, that familiar feeling was coming closer and closer, the edge of her climax making her walls tighten around him and her mouth hanging open as moans of his pretty name fell repeatedly from her lips.

“You’re doing so good, baby” She breathed, the praise making him go deeper “Just a little more, I’m almost there”

Just a few seconds after that, the knot in the pit of her stomach became tighter and tighter, her soft moans flowing out of her mouth even more as the pressure sent her into complete bliss. Her entire body twitched against his, her head rolled back in pleasure. 

His second orgasm followed shortly after, this time his cum staining her walls as his thrust became sloppy. He fucked himself through his overwhelming orgasm, prolonging hers.

When they were both done, he let her down gently, pinning her against the wall with one arm above her shoulder and his head pressed against the wall as he looked down at her body. 

“Good job” She whispered into his ear.

[uplatterme]

“Say my name.”

—happy birthday to xiao! this is my first time writing for him? i hope it is okay :D

—sub!xiao/softdom!reader, gn!reader | nipple play, handjob, rimming (all xiao!receiving)

Xiao doesn’t really care for what mortals think of him. 

That’s what he tells himself, at least. He doesn’t care whether humans are put off by him as long as he does his job well as a protector of Liyue. 

He doesn’t care if his ways of punishing monsters are to be considered savage or brutal by others.

Most of all, he doesn’t care if you’ve never cared to call him by his name.

The yaksha snaps his chopsticks just thinking about it.

He sighs, wondering if he has said something that you may have misinterpreted. Sure, he knows that his words aren’t the nicest unlike the other adepti but there’s not a specific situation that comes to mind.

Perhaps he’s overthinking it…

“Thank you so much again, Sir Adepti!” Your voice is nothing but praise. There’s no hint of aggressiveness at all.

Yet the thought of his name actually being said out loud by that voice seems so unreachable.

So this time it’s “Sir Adepti”, huh?

He supposes that’s better than the time you called him “Mr. Conqueror of Demons”.

“It’s no problem.” He replies, seeing the last hilichurl fade away.

Xiao finds it impressive that you manage to spot him whenever you’re in trouble despite not really stating his name yourself. He thinks about the possibility that you’re actually capable of defending yourself if needed, even if there’s no basis for such thought.

“As swift as ever,”

He tenses up at the compliment. It’s just a simple observation but he clenches his fist at the way you say it. Pure genuinity. 

You’re not saying it just because you want to be on his good side (even if you already are), you mean it and that idea brings unwanted emotions that certainly keep him distracted even if he doesn’t want to be.

“I apologize, what was it that you were saying?” He asks, seeing the way your lips move but not truly hearing it.

You chuckle, covering your mouth and uttering apologies that sound sweeter than dreams.

“A mora for your thoughts?”

“I have no need for mora, I helped you out because I wished to do so.” He completely diminishes the joke, instantly flying over his head. You didn’t speak much of it however, preferring to focus on what he said instead.

“Is that so? That’s interesting, I thought you did it because it’s your obligation.” You tease.

The reply catches him off-guard.

“You…are twisting my words.” He says, a much quieter tone than his stern ones earlier when he was warning you about the dangers of being out this late.

“Am I, Dearest Yaksha?”

There proceeds another title.

“I—You are aware that I’m the only active Yaksha? That title is not something I should be benefiting from.” He clears up. How longer were you going to play this game of yours? Is saying his name really that much trouble for you?

Your laugh surrounds the air once again, “It’s a wonder how you aren’t surrounded by fans all day with the way you are.”

He shrinks at the imagined situation. He would never, never allow himself to be near a large number of people just for reputation’s sake.

“I do what I do not for the people’s idea of me.” Xiao states.

“I know.”

He watches you look fondly at him before speaking up. “You need to loosen up a bit more, especially today. Don’t you think so?”

But before he can even ask for you to expand on what you meant, you had already walked far enough, and all he could do was stare at your back, his hands reaching out for something that’s already gone.

The feeling isn’t something new to him.

He returns to Wangshu Inn troubled, ready to sit down and ponder alone when Verr Goldet greets him with a smile.

“How did your patrol go?” She stands by the counter, getting something from under the desk while she awaits his answer.

“Nothing unusual.” 

“I’m pretty sure that Liyue would have been alright without your attendance for today.” She adds, giving him a small envelope that seemed to contain some letters.

“Some letters from everyone. Do read it when you have the time.”

He reads through the names on the letters. A few are from the residents of the inn themselves, some from the other adepti (which is surprising considering their reserved attitude), some from the townspeople of Liyue…

But what garners his attention is the last letter in the envelope stuck with a qingxin, a name that’s all too familiar to Xiao.

He places the other letters on the desk beside his bed, wanting to read what it is that you’ve said to him.

He reads through the content easily, and the way it’s worded easily strikes through his heart. In his private room, he flushes a deep red while reciting the words under his breath as if saying it will free him from the pounding in his chest.

Xiao reads out the last sentence, 

“Call out my name, Xiao.”

There’s no hesitation when he finally does.

He notices the presence on his balcony and he decides to see who the intruder is at this hour, only to find out that it’s you.

How long had you been out there?

“Happy Birthday. I hope you appreciate those letters because I cooked multiple batches of Adepti’s Temptation just to get an actual written letter—”

Xiao cuts you off as he jumps into your arms, hugging you tightly as if you’re going to perish any second now.

He doesn’t say anything, just continuing to hold onto your warmth and not knowing what to do next.

“My, which letter got to you? Was it the—”

“No.” Xiao boldy says.

“No?”

“Say my name, please.”

You pull him away from you and stare into his eyes, wiping away the few drops of tears that have somehow escaped his tough shell.

The feeling of relief, warmth, and caring that he experiences when your voice finally says what he’s been wanting to for so long breaks Xiao. You didn’t need to confess your feelings in any other way, that was enough for him to know that you reciprocate his own.

He hugs you once more, burying his head onto your body.

“Thank you.”

Xiao had never thought he’d be caught actually using his bed for resting. Well, if what’s happening right now actually counts as “resting”.

He writhes at the feeling of your tongue through the thin cloth of his top, him being pinned down by your left hand gripping his wrists.

He has never thought that his chest would be so sensitive, but the way your lips pinch his nipples has his legs moving more than they should, no matter if he wants his body to stay still.

Keeping himself composed when it comes to pain is easy. Unfortunately, the opposite could be said with pleasure, since he is now instinctively grinding himself on your leg while you play with his erect nipples.

“Hnn—Aah. Please…”

He wants more. He bites his lip at the thought of being greedy, a needy whine escaping his throat despite that.

“Speak up, Xiao.”

The embarrassing noise that slips out of him when you call his name sends him flushing. Perhaps it’s because you’ve deprived him of such pleasure for so long that it causes cute spurts of precum out of his dick.

Your finger traces on the green markings on his lower region, slightly glowing with the way the light in the room is slightly dimmed.

“W-Want more…” The plead easily comes out of his mouth due to him being in such a dreamy state, it only registers to Xiao what he says when he feels you separating his legs away from each other.

It’s such a sight to see the adepti’s hole clenching and unclenching, his cum that leaked down from earlier beautifully surrounding it.

Xiao’s figure is quite small but that doesn’t take away from how his ass is nicely shaped, with a few scars on the side of his thighs from the battles that he’s suffered through.

Your gentle caressing of his cheeks makes his dick twitch slightly.

“N-No, you don’t have to…!”

It’s a strange sensation to have himself licked with such enjoyment, he feels a bit guilty enjoying this so much already but when he observes you devouring him with such hunger, the resistance falls flat on his tongue, easily replaced with soft whimpering.

“Xiao.”

You call for him once again but before he could even reply with something coherent, your tongue slips inside of him.

He struggles to lay flat on his back, his lower body inching towards your face.

The texture of your tongue against his rim has him breathing deeply and quickly, your hands spreading his ass apart so you could easily eat him out.

The soft kisses that you plant in between, the way your fingers dig into his soft skin…it’s ungodly.

And if that wasn’t already hypnotizing enough, your other hand slowly makes its way from his thigh to the base of his cock, just circling it with your fingers and squeezing softly.

Xiao grinds even more on your tongue but immediately apologizes when he notices how closer that brought him. He tries to move away but is immediately pulled back down, shivering from how your tongue enters him once again, stretching him out.

He bites his teeth together at that, his head hitting the soft pillow when your hand that’s only been gripping him has now started to stroke his length, never reaching his tip and only keeping your hand on his shaft.

“Wait…I—”

Xiao doesn’t know where to focus, his eyes meeting the ceiling of his room. He’d be lucky if the residents of the inn were to not hear of the noises he’s making right now, though he finds that to be impossible.

He moans your name, begging you to let him take a break at least but also wanting more at the same time. He’s too confused on whether he should be enjoying it this much.

When you told him to loosen up, he didn’t realize you’d take it literally.

He feels his muscles tightening, his knee gently hitting the side of your body. He won’t—can’t last long.

Xiao fumbles with his words, he should warn you, shouldn’t he? If he orgasms like this, surely his cum would be a mess for you to clean up, right?

He tries, he really does. However, what comes out of his mouth are completely incomprehensible, just soft but loud moans. “Ah, uh! Hah—Can’t!”

He doesn’t miss the way your hand seems to be stroking him even roughly, using the leaking cum out of him as lubrication. The way his cum falls on your tongue, acting like that’s no bother for you as you continue to eat him out.

Soon enough, it takes everything in him to hold onto nothing, clenching his fists empty as he knows that he’ll end up ripping the sheets if he does that instead.

His cum splatters everywhere but mostly around his stomach and your face, the scream that erupts from him is humiliating and he only hopes that no one can tell that it’s him who’s the owner.

Xiao’s entire body, especially his legs, quiver.

He lays there weak on the bed, letting you go on top of him as you press your lips against his, the taste of his own cum turning him on.

He’s still breathing heavily, panting and moaning into your mouth. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you down and deeper into the kiss.

Once you two separate, a trail of saliva follows and gets left on the side of Xiao's mouth. 

The grin that appears on your face right after flusters Xiao and he looks away, only to have his face be grabbed by your fingers, turning his head towards yours for a quick peck.

“Happy Birthday, Xiao.”

[evilminji]

We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

[sopebubbles]

Two

Masterlist

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: the boys try to find your pack and face some painful truths.

Warnings: I feel like I should warn you that mc does not appear on screen at all for this whole chapter, language, honestly it's just pretty fuckin angsty.

Wc: 4k

The ride through the kaleidoscope of traffic lights and street lamps passed in near silence as they got closer to your address. Jungkook didn't notice, as caught up as he was in his own head, but for Yoongi the tension was excruciating. With one hand still on the wheel he stretched the other out to grip Jungkook's arm.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Jungkook turned slowly to look at the other. "Talk about what?"

With a knowing smile that wasn't truly happy at all, Yoongi slid his hand down to grasp Jungkook's fist, which had been clenched to trembling on his thigh.

"Whatever is bothering you."

Jungkook rubbed his forehead and sighed, consciously unclenching his fist to let his fingers slot between Yoongi's and take the comfort the alpha's large, warm hands offered. He wouldn't really know where to begin. He'd seen so much shit today, the worst parts of society, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. When he first became a cop less than a year ago, he thought he could make a difference, make this world a safer place for everyone in it. But he'd quickly learned that more often than not he was merely a witness, someone who gathered the pieces to say this is what happened when something terrible occurred and to pray for justice that would likely never come. Sometimes it was just a bit too much to handle or to speak of.

Yoongi knew that all too well. And Jungkook knew the offer to talk was just that, an offer, not a demand. Like Jungkook and Jimin, Yoongi saw horror on a daily basis, and he knew there were times that there weren't words to speak. All the pack knew there was an overwhelming amount of injustice all around them. Jin saw so much evidence of it in his office where he worked within the legal system to try and make a difference. But none of them saw it as viscerally each and every day the way the three of them did.

"I can't stop thinking about the phone call with that woman. The way she sounded…not just disgusted but shocked. She really had no idea that Y/N isn't Sap. How is that even possible?"

Yoongi shrugged. "It's not uncommon for Lykos to try to pass for Sapiens in the workplace. It's usually only betas who can get away with it but," he shrugged again. "You said it was a bar right? Between scent blockers and so many other people, maybe it's easy to hide. She gets better wages, better tips. Even though lots of professions aren't required to disclose a second gender, there are plenty of assholes out there that won't hire an omega. Or an alpha for that matter," Yoongi added.

Jungkook sneered. "I still can't believe there are betas out there who honestly think it's better for them to pretend to be Saps. I could never imagine doing that. To just disown your entire heritage like that?" He shook his head and stared out the window.

Yoongi just pursed his lips. He didn't think he could explain it to Jungkook, nor did he think it would matter at the moment. It was good that Jungkook was a proud Lykos, that he was proud of his family and his pack. But Yoongi knew from experience that it wasn't so easy for everyone. Passing for Sapien was, in most cases, a uniquely beta privilege. It was probably even harder for alphas than omegas in Yoongi's opinion. If Yoongi could have passed for Sapien or if alphas weren't so strongly discriminated against, he might have gone to med school and become a doctor. Not that Yoongi was complaining. He was proud to do his job most of the time, even if it wasn't everything he had once dreamed. Luckily, Yoongi didn't have to continue the conversation because the GPS on his phone told them they had arrived.

The building they were looking at was a dingy, dilapidated brown that hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in several decades. Just as well. The building would probably be better off torn down than renovated.

"Jesus," Yoongi muttered under his breath. Jungkook unbuckled his seat belt. "Wait, let's have a plan. You wanna do good cop, bad cop?" Yoongi asked, gesturing first to his partner and then to himself.

Jungkook shook his head but there was a smile on his lips. "How about a cop and a concerned citizen."

Yoongi sighed. "Sounds lame, but okay."

The pair exited the vehicle and walked briskly up to the front door. The external entrance to the building didn't appear to have any functional lock, and Yoongi's alpha growled in his head at the lack of security as they walked right in the door. Inside, they could hear several TVs playing loudly, probably trying and failing to drown out the sound of the couple fighting on the second floor who they heard as Jungkook navigated them to the unit printed on your license. The mixture of scents in the building was just as loud. Everyone living in the building must be Lykos. When they arrived at #23–only the gold 2 was still present on the door while the 3 was outlined by peeling brown paint–Jungkook rapped on the door with three firm, decisive knocks. Yoongi could practically hear every asshole in the building clench at the sound of what could only be a cop's knock. He had to suppress a chuckle.

After a few seconds, they heard the sound of a chain and several deadbolts make way so that a young Lykos could open the door a few inches. By the smell of her, Yoongi would guess she was a beta.

"Good evening, ma'am. We're sorry to bother you. We're looking for the home of a woman named Y/N Y/L/N. Does she live here?"

"No, sir. She doesn't live here." The woman replied mechanically. Jungkook couldn't read her expression from behind the door.

"Please, we need to get in touch with her family. If you have any information about her," Jungkook pressed.

The woman hesitated a moment before speaking again. "Wait just a moment."

She closed the door on them and Jungkook and Yoongi shared a look of raised eyebrows. The former hoped to hear the slide of the last chain, but seconds ticked by and when she returned the door remained blocked. The woman passed several envelopes through the small space.

"I think she must have been that sad omega that lived here before me. I've been collecting these. Meant to take them to be returned to sender but I keep forgetting. Maybe you can get them to her."

Jungkook took the envelopes, not knowing what else he could do. He cleared his throat. "Thanks."

The beta closed the door once again without another word.

Jungkook heaved a defeated sigh and turned back to Yoongi. He flipped through the various envelopes he had been given. Past dues and final notices in among the junk. Just as they were about to walk toward the exit, a door on the opposite side of the hall opened, and a man stood against the door jam with his arms crossed.

"You looking for that little omega girl?" The tall man asked. Yoongi didn't need to smell him to know he was an alpha. He didn't want to smell him.

"Maybe. You know anything about her?" Jungkook replied vaguely.

"Y/N, right?" Jungkook gave a curt nod. "She lived across the hall for a year and a half. Three weeks ago she was evicted," the alpha informed him. Jungkook looked down at the late bills in his hand. That made sense.

"Any idea where she lives now? Or how to get in touch with her pack?" Yoongi chimed in.

The man gave an amused smile and shook his head. "This is not a place for people with packs," he answered with a gesture toward the general state of the place. "People in this building are usually lone wolves," he added. "Not that I didn't offer to help her with her heats, you know? I'm a helpful guy, especially for a pretty little omega like that."

Jungkook swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat while Yoongi merely stared the man down with a stoney look usually reserved for people who walked a little too close to Hoseok.

"Yeah, thanks for your help," Jungkook muttered as he walked past the man's door and down the hall toward the exit. Yoongi held his stance until Jungkook was a few paces ahead and then fell in line.

The drive back home was even more silent than before, and when they finally arrived they were surprised to find the house just as quiet. All five of their pack members were still awake, but no one spoke as Hoseok sat at the entrance to the hallway and stared down Namjoon and Taehyung. Jin cradled Jimin in his lap with his face buried in Jimin's scent gland. Or maybe it was Jimin that was holding him down.

"What's going on here?" Yoongi chuckled as he dropped his keys into the communal dish.

"These spoiled little alpha fucks have forgotten what the word no means," Hoseok replied, arms flexing as the crossed tightly over his chest.

"Is that so?" Yoongi asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, and just in case you've forgotten too: it means you cannot mount strange omegas without their consent, and consent cannot be given in the middle of heat," Hoseok said tightly.

"Jesus, did you jump her?" Jungkook asked, looking at his mates.

"No. We did not jump her!" Namjoon insisted just a little too forcefully.

"But you would have!" Hoseok fired back. "Alpha scum."

"You're acting like we're pigs or something," Taehyung grumbled.

"You are pigs," Jimin offered from behind him.

"You guys don't get it," Jin finally broke in, showing his face for the first time. "It's not like we want to fuck her. It's just a need. We are alphas, it's our duty to breed an omega in heat."

Yoongi shook his head as he joined his fellow alphas on the couch, squeezing in between Jin and Taehyung before pulling Jimin half-way into his lap to get a sniff because yeah, your scent had saturated every molecule of air inside the house. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna fly this time, Jin."

"Look, we are doing our best to control ourselves here. Can you give us some credit?" Namjoon asked, but he only met with Hoseok's stony glare.

"Do you think her actual alphas will be thanking you for your bare minimum decency?" He turned his head to Jungkook. "Speaking of which, did you find them?"

Jungkook sat down near Hoseok and for once made an effort not to let his scent spread out, not until he could level himself out. The omega was on high alert, and didn't miss the pungent edge of mildew coming from him. Hoseok grabbed his sleeve and tugged until the beta scooted closer.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He urged as he ran fingers through Jungkook's hair.

The youngest sighed. "She doesn't live there but she used to. An old neighbor said she got evicted a few weeks back."

"No forwarding address?" Jin asked, fighting to keep his clarity.

"Neighbor said she was a 'lone wolf,'" Yoongi added, voice muffled by Jimin.

"Alone?" Someone echoed as Jungkook rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"That place…it was awful. Even though I see it all the time—I don't think. I come home every night and I let myself forget that there are people out there with no pack, who are struggling just to survive."

"Kookie," Hoseok cooed, rubbing a hand up and down his mate's back.

"We're very lucky," Jin agreed.

"There are so many loners these days. We're trying so hard to get kids into good packs, but it can be tough to find the right fit. And so many of them have trust issues or have never had a pack…they don't know what they're getting into at all. It scares me to think that could have been me," Jimin reflected. It was only a handful of years ago that a chance meeting with Yoongi had led him to his home. Jimin's light scent and lack of a family history often excluded him from groups and from forming proper bonds with other Lykos. He was the last to join their pack, but it was always a blessing.

The sadness filling the room and his mates caused panic to rise in Hoseok's chest. His fingers curled into Jungkook's shirt. "Maybe the neighbor was wrong. Maybe she moved out to move in with a pack!" He suggested with forced cheerfulness. "Did you find any other leads in her bag?"

Jungkook shook his head. "I didn't have a chance."

Hoseok popped to his feet. "I'll go get it from the room!" He paused as he turned. "Keep your eyes on those four," he added before padding to your door and closing it behind him in a futile attempt to keep your heavy scent inside.

"I was just reading an article today about how pack life is healthier for people. Omegas live 8 years longer on average as part of a pack than alone," Namjoon told them just to fill the silence. He was one of the lucky ones, like Jin, Hoseok, Tae and Jungkook, who had only ever known pack life. For them any other way seemed inconceivable. They'd gone from pups to their own mature pack without ever living one night on their own, but even the thought of it ached with unbearable loneliness. Lykos were not meant to be alone.

Hoseok returned a moment later, large black purse in hand.

"How is she?" Yoongi asked.

Hoseok gave a dramatic eye roll. "She's fine."

"Hyung," Tae whined.

"She's so fucking out of it she doesn't know where she is right now, Taehyung."

That did not soothe any of the alphas fraying nerves.

"Maybe we could just cuddle–"

"No." Hoseok cut Namjoon off. "You are not going in there for anything. End of discussion."

He dropped the bag on the floor in front of Jungkook, who opened it and began to carefully sort through your belongings. At the top of the bag was a change of clothes that he couldn't stop himself from taking a sniff of, catching your normal crisp apple scent instead of the gooey apple pie you were giving off tonight. The trace on the shirt was so faint it was almost drowned out among the other smells in the house.

"Let me smell it," Namjoon chirped before he could stop himself.

"Don't you feel embarrassed?" Hoseok returned quickly and harshly, and Namjoon cowed his head because he did.

Jungkook merely set the clothes to the side and continued to search. Next he pulled out two boxes of extra strength scent blockers, the kind that go inside your nose so you don't smell anyone around you, and then a bottle of scent spray that you bought at a Sap store. It smelled similar to your apple, but more artificial and layered with other scents.

"I guess this is how she passes," Jungkook mumbled as he set the items in front of Hoseok, who picked up the bottle and sniffed its top, wrinkling his nose at the chemical smell. Your scent was much nicer than that.

The pack's attention was drawn to a rattling sound before Jungkook pulled out a large plastic medicine bottle. He looked briefly at the label before shaking the bottle and then handed it to Hoseok.

"If she had a full bottle of heat suppressants, why did she go down like that?" Jungkook wondered aloud.

The omega beside him unscrewed the cap and shook a single pill into his hand. "Holy fuck! I didn't know they were this big! How does anyone swallow that?"

"Let me see?" Jimin asked. He was probably more familiar with heat suppressants than any other pack member because they were required in order to stay in pretty much any mixed-gender shelter, and even in many single-gender ones. Hoseok replaced the cap and tossed the bottle across the room. Jimin picked it out of the air with one hand and brought it down in front of him and Yoongi. "Where the fuck did she get these?" Jimin asked after reading the label.

"What is it?" Jungkook asked. It wasn't something he was particularly well-versed in since Hobi had never taken any. And he'd never had any other omega.

"I've only ever heard about these," Yoongi said, taking the bottle from Jimin. "Some omega activists are trying to get these banned. They have mega doses of hormones to stop heats, but they can cause permanent damage to an omega's reproductive system. I've also heard that most omegas don't like to take them unless they have to because the side effects are really harsh."

"I've heard rumors that some of the shelters give them out to omegas who want to stay," Jimin added.

"Is this one of them?" Jungkook asked when he found a crumpled flier in your bag. The paper showed a posed group of people wearing smiles outside a generic looking building in the downtown area. It also stated the hours of operation and contact information. Jimin held out a hand and Jungkook passed it through the alphas to him.

Jimin gasped quietly. "This is the worst shelter in town. The people who run this are fundamentalists who think that Lykos are abominations. They preach that we are unnatural and against god. Kids sometimes come to us from there and have said they were prevented from nesting or sharing beds with others. I'm sure they gave her these before letting her in but-" That didn't answer how you had ended up in your current state.

Jungkook thought he was going to be sick, and he wasn't alone.

"Why would anyone go to an organization like that?" Taehyung wondered, his hand sliding into Namjoon's.

"Some people don't have any choice," Jimin answered.

Everyone sat in quiet thought for a moment until the sound of Jungkook's sob broke from his chest. Six heads snapped in his direction, but only one spoke up.

"Jungkook, come here, baby," Jin said with arms held open. Jimin moved down to sit over Namjoon and Taehyung while Yoongi squeezed to make room for Jungkook. In spite of being a beta, Jungkook was just a little too large to sit comfortably in the pack alpha's lap, but he sat down and let Jin pull his legs over his lap and snuggled into his chest. "Tell alpha what's going on," Jin cooed.

Jungkook tried to calm his sobs, which got easier when Yoongi pressed himself against the beta's back. It took a minute before he was able to speak, but no one rushed him.

"I saw an omega get killed today," he finally said in a watery voice. "He was just a couple years younger than Y/N. He was alone and he was shot by some hateful Sap, for no reason. And all I could think at the time was where is his pack? Why didn't they protect him? But he didn't have a pack. There wasn't anyone to call. And then we found Y/N. And I just…why isn't there anyone to call?"

Jin hugged the man tighter to his chest and let him cry. "It's okay, Kook. Let it out. It's okay. There are four good alphas here and no one is going to get hurt," he assured in a soft voice.

Jungkook sucked in the deepest breath he could before he pulled away and leaned into Yoongi. "Sorry, it was kind of a fucked up day," he said as he wiped his eyes.

Yoongi gave his arm a squeeze, one that said he was sorry there were so many fucked up days, because Yoongi always knew more about them than the others, because sometimes Yoongi and Jungkook would lay in the nest in the spare room and whisper the things that haunted them before they could go to sleep.

"You should have told me before we went out, Kookie. We didn't have to go." Jimin reached a hand out across the alphas and Jungkook took it.

"I'm glad we did though." He didn't want to think what it would be like otherwise.

"Pup, you need to tell us when things are weighing on you like that," Hoseok chided, still rooted to his spot on the floor.

"I honestly can't bring that to you all the time," Jungkook admitted.

"We’re your pack, Jungkook-ah," Jin reminded him. "It's our job to share your burden, especially when it's too hard."

"I'll try."

Hoseok sighed. "It's late. Everyone, go to bed. We can decide what to do next in the morning."

No one argued with the omega. The tone of the conversation had dampened their yearning for you in the other room.

"Are you coming, my love?" Jin asked with an arm outstretched to pull him up.

Hoseok shook his head. "You all go on."

"Honey, you can't sit here all night."

"I'll get some things settled for her and then I'll sleep on the couch. No one will get past me."

Jin pouted. "But it won't be the same in the nest without you. You haven't even gotten a chance to build it up yet. How can we sleep there?" Seokjin always became so codependent when he was sleepy.

Hoseok's resolve cracked just a little.

"Hobi, you go up. I'll stay down here. I think I'd be more relaxed that way anyway," Jungkook suggested. It would be easier to rest if he knew you were safe from danger. Is this what it felt like to be an alpha all the time?

Hoseok grumbled but he was already giving in. "I can't let you go to sleep smelling like that."

With a wave of the omega's hand, all of his packmates gathered around Jungkook and marked wherever they could reach until he smelled like the unique blend of scents that to him smelled like home. When they finally backed away, Jungkook wore a dopey, scent-high smile, and Hoseok could go upstairs to his nest with one fewer worry.

Once they had all gone up to bed, Jungkook took a thick blanket from the hall closet that was too thick to use this time of year and laid it out on the floor in front of your door along with a pillow from the couch. He thought briefly about going in to check on you, but he honestly wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from climbing in the nest to cuddle you. He couldn't stop thinking about the way they wouldn't let you sleep with others in the shelter, or how you had probably slept alone for at least a year and a half prior to that. But Hoseok was right about boundaries and consent, and he could be good if he just stayed on this side of the door. If you couldn't be comforted, you could at least be safe.

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[lifeiskentastic]

are you still making requests for ryan gosling characters? Cause I have a request for Luke and Dan dunne, I really have a soft spot for those two. Maybe Luke meets a reader who works as a waitress, and they get all flirty with each other

Thanks for the request <33 really, these two are totally deserve a special spot

Flirting Luke and gn!Reader

Gif by @crazy-about-ryan

A/N: Next post will be about Dan because I'm having a sudden creative epiphany lol;

Summary: "Come back again" is not the only thing a waiter can say to an attractive customer;

Word count: 609 words;

Btw, my requests are still open!

"Coffee and a bacon sandwich. A very extraordinary choice."

The customer looks up at you as if he have just learned that humans can talk.

"Hmm. I guess."

Having received an equally extraordinary answer, you hurriedly smiled and turned around in the opposite direction from the visitor, while simultaneously managing to reprimand yourself for your own stupidity. Seriously? "A very extraordinary choice"? My God, when did you forget how to flirt (or maybe you never even knew how to flirt)?

And this embarrassment only multiplied when, after those words, you also had to take the order to him.

"I'm Luke, by the way. I hope that's extraordinary enough for you."

You sighed, but rather in a calm manner. Phew, the main thing is that this man is not offended or anything like that.

"I'm Y/N." A relaxed smile bloomed on your face, but your tongue took over again. Of course, it had only been a few minutes since the last time. "And, in fact, the only thing extraordinary about you is your biker clothes."

You could see a truly fascinating picture of a slight smile touching his handsome face and him trying to hide it behind a cup of coffee.

"In fact, the only thing in you is your waiter's uniform. It suits you. In a very extraordinary way."

This phrase made you chuckle into your fist, which defused the atmosphere between you and Luke in a strange way. In a very extraordinary way.

"Oh, you know, I look good in a lot of different uniforms, in fact." You leaned against Luke's desk, moving closer to his still pleasantly smiling face. "I could even show you." You gave him a playful wink, and it was like the last straw. Luke couldn't help but giggle quietly, still trying to hide his too obvious mirth behind that cup.

"Ah... then I'm looking forward to that moment."

Your uncontrollable laughter quickly joined Luke's in unison.

It was supposed to be a romantic and private flirtation between strangers, but instead you looked like two fools who couldn't control their emotions in the middle of the day in a café.

And, honestly, that's even better than any seductive flirt you could have imagined.

Especially with this particular client. Luke. You wonder if it would be inappropriate to ask him out right now. Although, you've already said even more explicit things to him in public, so you both have no choice now.

When you finally wiped away the last tear of your laughter and looked directly into Luke's bright, cheerful eyes, you felt a kind of inexplicable confidence.

You opened your mouth to ask a decisive question, not even realizing that Luke had done exactly the same thing…

"Will you go on a date with me?"

You blinked. Did you hear Luke ask the same question in a chorus with you?

Well, judging by another fit of laughter from him, it was.

"Hmm, so... so you agree?"

You looked at Luke with mock thoughtfulness, whose tone became just a little worried as he seemed to consider the possibility of a no. But he had absolutely nothing to worry about. After all, you knew your exact answer the moment you saw his blond, disheveled hair in the doorway of the café.

"Sure."

Luke's relieved look made you admire him for one more beautiful moment before your angry coworkers surrounded you and dragged you back to your boring job. But that's okay, because you managed to shout after him: "Tomorrow at the cafe?" and get his confident nod.

Everything was just beginning.

[dreorig]

Taiju Shiba — headcanons ;

[ nsfw | sub bottom taiju x top dom male reader | reader is said to be as strong as taiju | ive had this idea for a while now heheh i need to rail him so bad it's not even funny anymore ]

Taiju is a total brat.

In front of the others he acts like he doesn't give a shit about you or like he wants you dead (depends on his mood) but he's actually very jealous and possessive.

Humiliation kink. Call him the dirtiest names you can think of and he'll sob while dripping wet.

Taiju loves punishments, seriously. He'll do the exact opposite of what you told him to just so you'll spank him.

He talks back to you because he actually values his pride but a few minutes later he'll be whimpering and behaving nicely to get what he wants. 

Taiju blushes more during aftercare than when you're degrading him and that's because he's not used to being taken care of. He secretly longs for it every time you have sex.

It might sound weird, but submitting helps him to slowly change into a better person — who would ever think he would apologise for misbehaving?

Is he stressed? Dumbify him until he's nothing but an incoherent moaning mess.

If you put a collar on his neck and tug on the leash, he'll be on his knees to suck you within seconds.

At first he thought you were dumb for reassuring him and apologising for degrading him, but he began to appreciate it as he slowly realised that's how you showed you considered him more than a sex toy.

"Imagine what people would think if they saw you like this. How would they react to the fact that you're nothing but a dirty whore? Um? To think you act so high and mighty yet you cry because the way I fuck you is just too good. Tsk. Don't you feel ashamed?"

Taiju held back a moan. "Fuck you."

You grabbed his face and made him look at you. "Who do you think you're talking to?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" he snarled back, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

For fuck's sake, you really loved him.

You slapped his face, leaving a big handprint on his pretty face, and immediately he let go of your hair. "Don’t you fucking dare to talk back to me, slut. The only things you should do with this mouth of yours are moaning and sucking my dick, because that's all you're good for."

You pounded him harder, making every word he could think of die on the tip of his tongue. Taiju, like the little shit he was, tried to keep any sounds from leaving his lips but he just couldn't do it anymore when you leaned down to suck and grab on his chest with your free hand, still hitting his prostate like your life depended on it. Taiju closed his eyes and threw his head back on the pillow, exposing his neck full of love bites, then proceeded to let out higher moans, which at this point you already knew meant his orgasm was getting closer and closer.

“Woah,” you chuckled. “To shut you up all it takes is a slap? I bet everyone’s gonna love it when I tell them.”

Of course you'd never tell anyone but was it even sex if you didn't tease him?

 “I’m— fuck — I'm gonna kill you, asshole.”

You immediately stopped everything and just looked down at him with a bored expression. Took Taiju only a few seconds to open his eyes and protest, “Why did you stop?”

"Why the hell would I keep pleasuring a cheap whore who can't even respect his Master?"

Taiju was totally outraged, "But I was almost there!”

“Too bad, I guess.”

“C’mon, stop bitching and finish the job.”

“Keep talking like that and I'll just leave you like this. I’ll be fine if I just jerk off to some pics I took of you, although I can't say the same about you. So what do you say now?"

“Asshole.”

You loved Taiju, truly. He was such a brat, there was no way you couldn't love him. To see all his stubbornness slowly reduced to nothing but pure obedience because he just wanted you to rail him was a holy, privileged experience.

“That's not what I want to hear.”

Taiju tried to push down his hips in an attempt to feel at least something, but you were quick to hold his hips in place. Although he was the Taiju Shiba, one of the strongest men you've ever met, you matched his strength and he was too needy to try anything. Taiju was completely helpless under your grip.

You clicked your tongue. “I don't have all night, Taiju. Better decide what you want before I just leave you on your own.”

Took nearly an extra minute before Taiju’s deadly glare turned into the soft expression you always longed for. Reluctantly, he wet his lips before speaking, "Please, forgive me, Master."

A smirk quickly appeared on your face as you cupped his face and pecked his lips. “Such a good slut for me.”

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Ohhh please do 37. Do you think they could have loved me? Extra points if you make it sad but sweet/give it a positive ending ✨ I love ur writing btw!

Thank you so much for the prompt and for your kind words! I'm sorry for taking so long, but I hope the positive ending makes up for the wait!

Steve doesn't talk about his parents often. Scratch that, he doesn't talk about them at all, but that doesn't mean their presence doesn't loom over him, casting prolonged shadows over everything he does, everything he is. He knows they are disappointed in his failures, his choices, only suffering his presence in their home because they know they would be judged. Public opinion matters to them more than their only son.

And Steve seems to believe everything they say about him, just takes it when they call once every few months and berate him for not utilizing his talents, not securing a sports scholarship ("we paid for your hobbies, Steven, all the equipment, and there is zero return. We really hoped you'd amount to something"), not doing what he's supposed to be good at. If someone calls him a failure, a washed-out ex-jock who peaked in high school, he just shrugs and never tries to refute it. Eddie sometimes wants to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, yell at him to believe in himself more. And if that isn't ridiculous, the master of self-deprecation lecturing the former king on self-esteem. But that's what friends do and Eddie wants to be a good friend to Steve. Maybe more, but that's not on the menu and Eddie will gladly accept any Steve-shaped dish he's offered.

So when the letter comes one week before his twentieth birthday, Steve isn't surprised. He skims over the precise, thin lines, his lips moving as he reads that he's on his own. His parents are starting over somewhere else and graciously left him the house (or what's left of it after the earthquake, even though Steve and all his friends did their best to fix it up). They say they'll gladly hear from him if he gets his life back on track, but until then he should think hard and long about what he wants and what he sacrifices by the company he keeps, the dead end jobs, his unsatisfactory choices. Eddie doesn't read the letter directly but sees Steve's expression, reads his lips, and even when Steve offers a small smile, saying that it had been long time coming, Eddie can't help but notice his trembling fingers and glassiness of his eyes. He wishes he could say something to make Steve feel better, but there is nothing, no hollow reassurances to make the hurt go away. He just offers to share a joint and lets Steve sag against him, lost in thoughts.

Eddie suspects that Steve must have fallen asleep, but then he hears that sentence and his heart skips a beat.

"Do you think they could have loved me?" Steve whispers against Eddie's shoulder.

He swallows, breath catching in his throat. "What...what do you mean, Steve?"

Maybe it's just his imagination, but doesn't his t-shirt feel a bit wet? "It's just...I wonder if I could have done something differently. I'm not smart, but I could have tried more. Maybe start in dad's company, prove him wrong. I've always thought they don't want to be around because I failed them, but...I wonder. I wonder if I tried more, if they'd still be around. If they could have loved me if I was who they wanted as a son."

Steve's voice is weak, defeated, and Eddie burns with rage, tightening his fingers into a fist. There were so many things he wants to do to those assholes and he marvels at the image of his rings tearing Harrington senior's stern face into shreds. He reaches behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders, pulls him into a clumsy hug. "I don't think they could have loved anyone, Steve," he mutters against Steve's hair. "No one but themselves."

And Steve seems to accept that, his breathing becomes more even and when they eventually say good night, he's smiling again. As Eddie climbs into his van and drives back to the tiny house government kindly provided for him and Wayne, he starts thinking. The next morning, he makes several calls.

Twenty years from the day Steve was born, Robin throws Steve a huge birthday party - in his own Frankenhouse, she had Dustin drag Steve away for the whole day and the excuses the young man comes up with are absurd, but Steve follows him, not questioning anything. He just enjoys Dustin's company. Dustin rambles about finding a perfect gift for Suzie for their anniversary (and when Steve points out that their anniversary was three months ago, Dustin scrambles up an excuse that it's actually for their half anniversary and he wants to customize the gift a bit, plus Steve is the only one he trusts with dating advice, so really he can't ditch him before they find the perfect thing, maybe they can stop for a lunch in the meantime, and does Steve want to be invited for a coffee or something for his birthday? Steve's eyes tear up a little at that because Dustin remembered what day it was and if that didn't make the younger man swear to all gods that the party had to be the best thing Steve ever experienced.

In the meantime, Robin, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and the whole party minus the distraction do their best to make that prayer come true. They decorate the house, build an improvised pyramid of presents and bake a cake - there might have been a small fight over how to decorate and El wins by suggesting they should shape seven small figures representing them and a spiked bat from marzipan. The results are...questionable, but recognizable.

Eddie might have pushed them to go a bit overboard, gathered a crew of teenage boys to paint Steve's living room since its owner always complained about the peeling paint and impersonal taste of his parents. They create a surprisingly seamless gradient of yellow and orange, brightening the room and splashing the ugly couch in the process. When Mike sees the drops, he remembers that Steve really disliked this piece of furniture ("it's like sitting in a hospital", he used to say) and promptly writes FUCK THIS COUCH, YOU DESERVE A BETTER ONE, STEVE on the uncomfortable surface.

When they radio Dustin that it's safe to come back, Dustin basically shoves Steve inside and there is shared concern when Steve freezes as he takes in the new wall, the presents, the cake and a handmade banner saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE BABYSITTER/DINGUS. Then, to the surprise of everyone, he lets out a huge sob and collapses against the door. Eddie and Robin rush to him, removing his hands from his face, but he's beaming at them through the tears, pulling them into a clumsy hug. In the end, Argyle yells for a hug pile and Steve is suddenly squished by seven kids and five adults. He can't even bring himself to scold them for disregarding their safety.

As they pull him up and slowly disperse to bring over plates and drinks, Eddie adjusts Steve's hair to its usual perfection. "Now, you asked me something a few days back, Steve," he says quietly so only Steve can hear. "And I didn't have a good answer. But I have one now. Because those jerks not loving you has nothing to do with you, they're just damaged sorry excuses for human beings. So no, they couldn't have loved you no matter how hard you tried and for that they suck, so fucking much. But all of us," he gestures towards the people who gathered in his house for him, for Steve Harrington, "happen to agree they have a single redeeming quality. They gave us the most selfless and metal guy we've ever had the pleasure to know."

"Eddie-!" Steve gasps and he looks as if he's about to cry again, and well, screw respectful distance. Eddie touches his face and wipes the residual tears away, taking care of the new ones too in the process.

"Shh, big boy," he soothes him and grabs his hand, leading him into the kitchen, the living room still smelling too much like paint to spend the whole evening there.

Steve looks around and watches his friends, his loved ones. He sees Erica bringing disconcertingly large knives to cut up the cake, El floating confetti with her powers and Mike and Will quickly scribbling an additional gift for Steve - a promise from Will to paint Steve a mural of his choice on the new wall, Mike joining in to mix paint and provide snacks. He sees Argyle and Jonathan blowing up party baloons and playing with static electricity, making their hair stick up in the weirdest ways possible, Robin and Nancy giggling at them and betting who can get the wildest hairstyle. He sees Max and Lucas arguing in hushed voices about which present Steve's going to like the best. And of course he sees Dustin who sneaks past Eddie, steals his lighter and starts lighting the candles on his cake.

They all gather around him, smiling, even Max has a grin on her usually stoic face. The metalhead beams at Steve and theatrically grabs a glass and a spoon, ringing them for attention. When everyone goes quiet, he climbs on top of a chair and clears his throat. "I will keep this short, we're all tired and your cake looks delicious, sue me. Ahem. From all of us who happen to love you, Steve Harrington, with all your pretty much non-existent flaws except for outshining all of our hair and not caring enough about the best tabletop game in the world - happy birthday. We're all fucking glad you were born."

As everyone claps and cheers, Eddie jumps down and pushes Steve into the circle of his friends, towards the cake.

Robin hugs him and tells him to blow the candles. "Wish for something, dingus."

Steve snorts, leans over the cake and thinks hard, as his parents told him, thinks about what he wants. His eyes still linger on his friends. "I can't think of a single thing," he admits with a huff.

"Aww, isn't he cute," teases Eddie, nudging Dustin's side.

Steve's eyes stay on Eddie for long, stretching seconds. "Well, maybe one thing." As he blows out the candles, he maintains eye contact with Eddie and well, doesn't the dungeon master have the prettiest blush he's ever seen.

And maybe it's birthday magic, maybe it's the universe trying to restore some balance into Steve's shitty life, but in this particular case wishes do come true. They come true on the same evening when Steve sneaks out with Eddie to share a cigarette, it involves a rogue drop of cake cream on Eddie's lips and who are they to waste such a great dessert?

Steve's parents could have never loved him, it's a simple fact. But for the first time in his life, he doesn't care a single bit.

(also, Steve does keep the couch, refusing to get it cleaned no matter what. He considers it a staple piece in his living room and Mike feels ridiculously proud whenever he sees it)

[thornofthelily]

Based on @raccooncass 's headcanon on hearing loss across the various Redacted characters, definitely not all projecting my own hearing loss struggles into this.

Starts off with some angst about sensory loss but quickly gets more affirmative and positive. (Obviously yes these are my own perspectives and I'm only a little hoh your mileage may vary etc etc)

Anyway mini fic under the cut!

"Sweetheart, you okay?" Milo called as he let himself in their apartment front door. "I tried to call and see if you wanted any take out, but…" 

He stopped when he saw his partner pace past the doorway, a frustrated scowl on their features. "Sweetheart?" He called again, a little louder, but tentative. 

When they answered, their voice was strained. "I heard it, I know I did, but I can't find the damn thing. Can you call it again?" 

A discomfort settled in Milo's stomach. He wished it was from the fast food he'd planned to share with them instead of this. "Uh, sure thing. But do you still have it on vibrate…?"

They shot him a look, and he just sighed and shrugged one shoulder as he fished out his cell. Only a few taps were needed before he heard the soft buzzing from somewhere in the office. But they weren't looking towards the sound—his partner's eyes were locked on his. 

"You can hear it, right?" The tough Department investigator who was chomping at the bit to take out a Shade just a few weeks ago, who snuck their way into his own apartment to interrogate him, who gave him shit with a wry grin while they healed him after taking out their target, now looked and sounded on the verge of tears. 

"Yeah, well I'm a wolf. I got better hearing than you anyway."

"It's not that much in human form though, is it? My hearing really is just like this now."

He almost said it's only the one ear though, right? before catching himself and biting his tongue. Ever since they fought off the Shade together, his Sweetheart's been unable to hear out of their right ear. Healers took a look and said it might recover with time, but there was nothing more they could do. It's been nearly two weeks since then, though, and nothing has improved. 

"Hey, hey it's alright," Milo soothed, as the call went to voice-mail and the phone went silent. 

"No, it's not," they bit back, bitter and angry. "Milo, I'm a damn investigator, what am I supposed to investigate if I can't fucking hear? I'm a Stealth, I'm supposed to be good at infiltrating, getting information, not getting caught, but I know I'm talking louder than I used to, and… and I can't even hear my own damn phone ring!" They pressed their fists into their eyes, trying to physically hold back the tears. 

Milo wrapped his arms around them, crushing them close against his chest. "You'll adjust," he promised, using the words the healers offered back then. "I know it's tough now, baby, I know it sucks to lose this part of yourself, but your body will adapt. You can still be the damn finest Investigator that Department has, no matter your ability."

They sniffled into his shoulder, arms tight around his waist. He could feel them nod even as they snuggled in closer, squeezed tighter. But it took longer before the subtle shuddering of their body slowly subsided. When they were ready, they took a deep breath and stepped away. "Okay. Try it again. Let me figure this shit out."

It took two calls before they picked up on the buzzing noise, but they kept walking away from it, wrinkling their nose when they'd lose the trail. Milo tried to chime in with assistance but they hushed him each time. When Milo called a third time, they closed their eyes and focused, not moving for the entirety of the incessant buzzing. Then, without warning, they disappeared from sight as they cloaked. If Milo hadn't gotten used to this sort of thing by now, he'd have imagined they just vanished. He could only barely sense their aura as they moved into the office, and this time he heard the ringing on his end stop.

"Good job, Sweetheart," he said into the receiver. 

"I can't tell where sounds are coming from," they replied in a tone so quiet he could only hear it on the phone, not even where their voice should be carrying from the room over. "That's what's fucking me up, you know?"

"Whaddya mean? You can hear where it is outta your good ear, right?"

"It's the fact I only have the one ear." They said, but their voice sounded kind of excited, like it did whenever they got a lead. Milo smiled despite himself. They still had such a shitty poker face. "The way we can locate objects by sound is because we have two ears—your brain picks up the sound from two different inputs, and it can triangulate the direction based on where it sounds louder. But since I'm down to one, it's harder to tell where the sound is coming from. I can't track it as good. But you know what that means?"

Milo's heart bloomed with something deeper than admiration, stronger than affection. "Yeah? What is it, Sweetheart?"

"It just means I gotta get better."

— 

Gym time together was always a lot of fun. Not only was it a good way to spend some quiet time together, even if they couldn't talk much, but Milo also got to see some sweet eye candy of his Sweetheart. While he worked on his deadlifts, his eyes always wandered back to them on the leg press machine. And thank his lucky stars for the angle, he could see them partially reclined back, face pinched in concentration. The strain of each breath as they extended their legs, the wash of relief when they gently clacked the weights back together, it reminded him a little of more private times, alone in their bedroom. Yeah, working out together was always real nice.

At the end of their set, they took a deep steadying breath and adjusted their earbuds, just visible in both ears. Milo had asked why they wear two when they can only hear one, but they said it feels weird and off balance to wear them any other way. But as he set down his weights, intent on walking over and asking if they wanted to… you know… get out of there… some other guy interrupted them wiping down the equipment. 

At first, Milo saw them take out both earbuds, genuinely listening to whatever the guy was asking. But it clearly wasn't just a simple request to use the machine next, because Milo saw how his mate's eyes glazed over in annoyance, their mouth tugging in a frown. They popped their left earbud back in and kept cleaning, occasionally nodding and pursing their lips to mmm in acknowledgement. Milo couldn't help but laugh and watch the scene as the guy got increasingly exasperated before leaving, and that was when Milo walked over. 

"Have fun chasing off your admirer?" He teased. He could feel the freshly minted mate bond pulse when they smiled at him, fully removing both earbuds and tucking them in the arm band that held their phone. 

"Is that what he was? I couldn't hear a thing," they shot back, comfort and calm pouring from their usually quiet, soft aura. Was this was being mated felt like? Like everything was right and true when you look at each other? Not even thinking about being jealous because you are so sure, so solid, so confident that this is the person for you?

"I love you, Sweetheart," Milo laughed, looping an arm around their waist and kissing them once, light and soft. "Let's get home."

-

Milo always secretly loved any occasion to dress up, though today his excitement was a little dampened by his mate's obvious discomfort with the whole thing. It was some work party held by the Department, and they were expected to make an appearance. In addition to the general discomfort and anxiety their job could inspire on a typical day, today was worsened by the choice of venue—a loud, small, crowded restaurant. 

While their hearing comprehension adjusted years ago for an average conversion, busy, noisy places still made them anxious, the overwhelming noise jarring to process and hard focus on any one conversation. Milo slid up against their good left side, speaking low but clear in their ear: "Hey, Sweetheart, you holding up okay?"

They managed a thin smile but their hands moved quick and fast, signing out, "No," quick and simply. 

Milo rubbed their back, biting his lip. They both started taking sign classes as a backup just for situations like this. At first, he'd wondered if maybe they should try some telepathy classes at DAMN and learn some basic mind-to-mind communication, but for one, he wasn't sure how far he could manage with his weaker Shifter magic, and two, sign seemed more… comfortable. On the down low. A lot of empowered people learned some telepathy to make up for communication shortfalls, but sometimes the unempowered get it right. It felt more personal, more them, and his mate liked the idea it might not be something their peers were as familiar with. Trust a Stealth to like being a little secretive for fun. Now signing when they couldn't hear real well became a sort of grounding tactic for them, an easy way to communicate and not need to strain to pick out one voice in a crowd of dozens. 

"Do you think they'd notice if you leave now?" He signed.

Their grin widened to a wry smirk. "We only just got here, babe. Of course they would."

"You're a Stealth," he replied with a laugh. "Tell them you were cloaked." 

That got a chuckle out of them, a full-on adorable face-wrinkling chuckle that wrung some of the stress from their eyes. "Tried that before," they signed sheepishly, hands close to their chest. "Didn't work."

That made Milo laugh too. "Can I kiss you?" He signed, while smiling and looking deep in their beautiful eyes. 

In response, they hooked one finger under the knot of his tie and pulled him close, giving him a warm, deep, but brief kiss. Tonight might suck, but afterward, they can go home and relax in peace and quiet, there for each other like they will for the rest of their lives. 

[chinchillinator]

@olivepdf made a gorgeous little bingo card for joe and nicky bc we lost the sun/moon bracket this fandom needed some good mobilizing in these trying times (no new set photos or announcements) so i sat myself down n made a little thing for it.

for ‘meant to find each other’

“Why do you always come back to me?”

Joe hasn’t even looked from scrubbing at a spot on his counter, but he senses Nicky freeze. He adds hastily, “Not that I mind. Just, I’m sure Andy or Nile would love to see you. Booker maybe not so much, you did traumatize him that one time.”

“Well he shouldn’t have fought me,” Nicky says. Joe smiles.

Something heavy gets set gently on the floor and a chair at the kitchen table scrapes over the tile. Nicky always lets out a quiet, involuntary sigh when he sits, as if he hasn’t been able to for a very long time. Joe wonders if he knows that about himself.

“You’re easier to find, for one,” Nicky finally answers, once Joe’s nearly forgotten his initial question, content to enjoy Nicky’s silent presence. Joe gives up on cleaning away what must just be a discoloration of his countertop and turns to look at his guest.

Nicky always goes transparent in the moonlight. The beams from the window are cut up by Joe’s curtains and one side of Nicky’s face and his entire right arm is nearly invisible. The rest of him is solid enough that Joe wants to reach out and touch him. Which he knows better than to do.

“Well that’s a little disheartening,” he says, tamping down his worst, most self-destructive impulse. Nicky smiles.

“Yes, you really should get better at hiding from the non-human entities that visit you from beyond the veil,” he says. Joe laughs. Nicky leans toward him ever so slightly, unnoticeable except for the way his face has suddenly lost just a little more definition.

“I’ll work on that,” Joe says.

“Not that you would be able to hide from me,” Nicky says, in a tone that Joe thinks might be trying toward smug, though it doesn’t quite reach.

“That’s what you th—” Joe barely starts before Nicky cuts in.

“You’re like a beacon. Like the sun, if I’m imagining it correctly, brighter and warmer the closer I get.” Joe braces both hands on the counter behind him just to keep from reaching for Nicky. Nicky turns his head a little, cutting off that much more of himself.

“You’re imagining it correctly,” Joe says after a minute. His voice has gone soft without conscious thought and he clears his throat a little. “Is that true of all the souls that come back?”

Nicky looks at him again and cocks his head to the side, bringing more of his face back into the shadows for Joe to see it. There’s genuine confusion in his expression, likely because he did technically answer this question already, but also something fond and amused and affectionate.

“Funnily enough, I haven’t really got much data on that front,” he says. Joe scoffs and turns away to pick up the counter sponge and rinse it properly, hiding his smile at Nicky’s tease. “Most of the souls I touch tend to, you know, stay dead. Otherwise I’d be really bad at my job.” Joe shakes his head.

“Ha ha,” he says, deadpan. He’s still smiling. “So why do you think I get the special reaper-summoning powers?”

“I don’t know,” Nicky says. His voice ticks up half a pitch. Joe’s heart ticks up half a beat. He puts the sponge away and turns back.

Nicky’s hiding in the moonlight and Joe wants to drag his chair back from the table so he can see his face. Whatever expression he has that’s making him hide. How many more centuries will he live wishing to reach for the thing that could kill him.

“Nicky.”

He sees the shape of Nicky’s head turn, though, moments before the name passes his lips. The one hand he can see tightens into a fist on Nicky’s thigh. Joe wants to tell him not to go. Badly.

“I have to—” Nicky starts.

“What’s the other thing?” Joe interrupts, taking a step toward him

“The other?” Nicky asks, staying in his seat though the edges of his form are starting to blur.

“You said ‘for one,’” Joe says desperately. “What's the other thing?”

Nicky bends down to lift his scythe and for a moment his entire body is visible. For a moment, Joe can see the resigned sadness on Nicky’s face.

“Stay out of trouble, Joe,” he says. Like he does every time. Since the first, last, only time he whispered, I cannot keep coming for your soul.

It’s always the last thing he says, always the last word because he’s just a bastard like that, and he’s gone before he’s even finished standing. Joe stares at the empty chair, blinking through sudden tears, imagining that he can still see the faint outline of Nicky’s moonlit form.

There’s never enough time. For two immortal beings, they never have enough time. Joe wonders what’s worse. Seeing the wretched look on Nicky’s face when he has to collect Joe’s soul for however long his death lasts. Or feeling the wretched pull of his own heart every time he has to watch Nicky disappear.

Walking over to push the chair back into its place at the table, Joe takes a steadying breath and consoles himself the same way he always does. Always has for centuries. Nicky will be back. At the very least, Nicky will be back.

After all, Joe's very easy to find.

[isnovelman]

Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 8

***

'Hmm. By the way, Michelle Granbert is more than a princess's friend... .'

I feel like an ardent believer.

During the battle with the Warlock, I lent her a joint doll to serve as a bait, so I thought she was pretty close to the princess, but Michelle's condition was a little different from being a friend.

“Wow, Princess. Doesn't my face look weird now? I’m so nervous.”

Michelle asked me about her condition with a pale face. Her clenched fists were trembling with tension from before.

“Originally, you’re on the white side, so you don’t look much different from usual. But, are you so nervous? ”

After all, Deborah is the saint who saved the empire.

The other day, there weren't many people who recognized her true worth, and she was with the devil, but after the battle, it was definitely felt that her followers increased.

“I really can't believe it. I didn't expect it, actually, I prayed, but I wasn't very lucky, so I never dreamed that I would be invited to this event. It is such an honor and thank you again, Princess.”

Michel Granbert, who was invited to this tea party due to the whim of the princess, had trouble sleeping from the day she was invited.

Everyone was envious of themselves attending a tea party with two celebrities from the Empire... . I never liked her because she was a saint!

Michelle took great pride in not being late.

'The owner of Armand, whom I had only vaguely imagined, was Princess Deborah! She even had a sublime side job of being a saint.'

Tea time with the person whom I admired enough to prepare a tribute to the doll to secretly present and even write an analysis thesis!

“You are a very successful person. It was good to be alive.”

Michelle was thrilled.

“But I didn’t know that you would be in front of the imperial family since dawn. Damn I came out early.”

“If you are late for even one second, it is a big deal. So, it is more comfortable to wait in the morning.”

“Huh, yes, that aside, I’ve been concerned about it since a while ago, but what did you have in your hand?”

“It's a script...”

“I don’t know why I need a script for the tea party, but I’m skipping this one, so what did I write down?”

The 5 princesses showed curiosity as they looked at the paper note that Michelle had been holding like a lifeline before.

“… Listen to what I have to say when we meet. this and that.”

“Can I see her?”

While Michelle was hesitating, the news came that the princess had just arrived in front of the Imperial Palace.

“Princess, I suddenly feel dizzy with my tongue…”

Suddenly, Michelle staggered and touched her forehead.

“Wake. You've been waiting since dawn If you fall down like this, you won't be able to see for even a second. ”

“I'll hold out.”

Michelle clenched her teeth and nodded her head resolutely.

Soon after, Princess Deborah appeared through the door, and Michelle managed to suppress the scream.

“How have you been, Princess?”

Princess Deborah greeted her with her characteristic cold expression. However, Princess 5 could now read the warmth in her eyes.

“Thanks to you.”

The two made eye contact and shook hands lightly.

“Did the princess do well too?”

“Yeah, thanks to the princess, I’ve been able to rest and have a good time.”

“But we decided to call each other names, Deborah.”

“It is, Vivienne.”

Seeing the two of them calling their names affectionately, Michelle rolls her feet and wanted to strengthen her feet.

'I'm so envious of you, Princess. I want to ask you to call my name so friendly! '

Although she was yelling out violently inside, Michelle, like a high-ranking nobleman, was adept at hiding her emotions.

“My Michelle, it’s been a while.”

Deborah greeted her, hiding her inner awkwardness.

In front of the company who wrote an analysis thesis about Armand and even promoted it as a five-star restaurant, I was a bit pricked in conscience because I pretended to know nothing about it and was hiding my identity.

In addition, to lure the 3rd Prince by boat, Michelle borrowed what he had, but he dropped the doll in the water and was unable to return it.

'I said in the first place that I don't have to give it back, but... .'

Since she's Princess Seymour, maybe she couldn't ask for the money back.

Deborah glanced at her, and Michelle barely raised her voice, her pupils trembling.

“Princess, it’s been a while.”

“Last time I suddenly asked you to borrow a doll for the boat, thank you for willingly allowing me.”

'It's just an honor for the princess to remember and even use my doll to do something big! Another honor! So there's no need to thank you with such a gracious attitude... Sobbing.'

However, Michelle could not utter the sentences that quickly passed through her head. It was because she was so crazy that her eyes became white as she got entangled with the lines of the script she had written in advance.

‘Just don’t prepare anything. '

“Michelle?”

The 5 princesses lightly called out to Michelle, who seemed to have forgotten how to breathe.

'I guess I'm a little uncomfortable.'

Deborah opened her mouth with a humble face, thinking that Michelle was having a hard time with her face just looking at her face.

“Seymour will surely pay you back. It will not be easy to find a work worth as much as a doll that you made, but I want to reward it.”

'uh? Wait, I guess it's time to spit out those lines?'

Michelle, who suddenly remembered a line from the script, managed to tear her lips apart.

“It’s a reward. Don't say that. I can feel the wall from the princess.”

“At first, my face was a little cold… .”

“...perfect”

“.....”

“.....”

The 5 princesses, who had been silent for a while in the difficult atmosphere, muttered painstakingly.

“Aha, perfection is a barrier.”

“… I'm just going home sorry!”

Michelle jumped up, dyeing her pale face like a ripe apple.

“hey!”

When she couldn't stand the shame and tried to run away, the silent princess suddenly covered her mouth and shook her shoulders.

Seeing her smile for the first time, Michelle relaxed her legs and sat down.

“ where is the handkerchief?”

Michelle mumbled gibberish.

“Why, you said you were getting dizzy from excitement earlier, but this time you look like you’re going to have a nosebleed?”

“no. Princess Deborah smiled, so the juice was splashing all the way here.”

“.....”

laughter means as fresh as fruit.

“You have to wipe… . ”

“… Would you like some tea?”

“Yes. sorry.”

“Until I’m sorry. It's just the head of the empire's best puppeteer... Hmmm, the sense of humor is just amazing. Every time you say something like a gem, it feels like you're facing the wall of another world. Absolutely perfect. ”

It didn't seem like a compliment for some reason, but Michelle was satisfied.

'I'm embarrassed, but it's okay because the princess smiled.'

Anyway, it was the script produced by this vain greed to spit out the memorable lines of the person I admire, but it worked.

'I got on.'

While Michelle dies inside, Princess Deborah raises the teacup with a smile on her face.

“The tea smells really good.”

“Yes, it is very good. ha… .”

“I brought the tea leaves my father loved, especially for you. If there is a wall that has remained for each other, even tear it down and sleep. Of course, it's not perfect. haha.”

“… I will never do that again... .”

“why? It’s fun.”

'They're both having a good time.'

The awkward spot was warmed up by Michelle's jokes, and Deborah sipping tea while listening to their chatter among her peers.

“Ah, princess. do you know that There is no purple amethyst these days, so I can't sell it. ”

“Purple silk and yarn are also trendy. I tried to wear all the dolls I own, but some were out of stock.”

“I am thinking of suggesting that sooner or later, the color of the imperial emblem should be changed to purple instead of blue sky.”

“What the hell… .”

Deborah was smirking inwardly, but, as always, her expression didn't show it well. And it gave the impression of being detached from popularity.

“cool.”

Michelle said first.

“Then, of course not. You are my girl.”

“......”

'They are really close friends.'

Deborah tried to ignore the twinkling gazes of the two of them, while involuntarily fiddling with her sweaty ring fingers. It was a habit that I suddenly developed as I recently wore my engagement ring every day.

And their eyes naturally stayed in the ring.

“Hmm. I heard that she was engaged to Princess Deborah and the Duke of Visconti. congratulations.”

“thanks.”

“I, that, by the way.”

Michelle shyly curled her lips and bit, then pulled it off.

“At the wedding, the… May I be your bridesmaid? huh, if there are any seats left.”

In Asteia, on the day of the wedding, four or five friends of the bride stood next to the bride holding flowers. It was one of the traditions that stemmed from the custom of protecting the bride from outsiders.

“I am unconditionally sitting next to the princess. Don't look too far, Michelle.”

“Still, the left side is empty.”

Deborah felt a strange feeling as she looked at the two of them fighting. She once said that she was the object of fear, and she didn't even have a young girl who made proper eye contact with herself... .

In addition to the two of them, Margaret and Arin came to me saying they wanted to have another bridesmaid. I've been busy with my life, but when I woke up, I was really surprised and happy that there were so many people congratulating me on my marriage.

The princess smiled softly as she slightly curved her sharp eyebrows.

'Ugh.'

His eyes were dazzled for a moment, and Michelle looked around his eyes... .

‘Isidor, you envious child. '

5 The princess seriously went to Isidor with the latest offensive magic tool collection and almost had a political battle.

Keep supporting me with like, comments & share. Your support encourage me to upload next chapter faster. Thank you.

[lightphieric]

Virtue's Last Record: Truancy

Would Quark have been happier living in the past? Title from the Evergate OST CWs: None AO3

Grandpa showed Quark how to read and write. Starting when he was six, with a little bit of practice every week, it took almost four years for Quark to be any good at it. And that was mostly because Grandpa got frustrated.

“That’s a B, not a D!”

“What are you saying? Have you ever heard someone make that sound while speaking English?”

“God, why are you so –”

He would stop himself and go mutter in his chair for a long time, a balled fist pressed against his forehead. Then, he would grab a bottle of alcohol from the shelf. When Quark went over to apologize for being so stupid, Grandpa would shake his head.

“I should be the one saying sorry, buddy,” he said once. “I don’t know how to do this. I never studied how to work with kids.”

“That’s something you have to study for?” Quark said, tilting his head in confusion.

Grandpa nodded. “Back in my day, there were experts in this kind of thing. Teachers. It was their entire job to just sit with kids in a room all day and show them how to do things, because they knew how kids worked better than anybody.”

Quark’s eyes widened. “And that’s what the kids would do? Sit in a room and learn how to read and write?”

“Not just that,” said Grandpa. “They’d learn about science, history, math – you know how to add and subtract, but there’s so much more to it that I can’t even remember. We’d get time to run around in PE, and in some grades we even learned how to take care of animals.” Grandpa’s look turned wistful. Quark knew that meant he was thinking about Miss Akane. “School was where we socialized. It was where we met most of our friends.”

“And that’s why I don’t have any!”

Grandpa snapped back to attention in shock. “No, Quark, that’s not…” He stumbled over his words as he tried to reassure him, like he thought Quark was upset.

He wasn’t, though. He’d just come up with an amazing idea. Since they didn’t have these “teachers,” he was probably the only kid in the neighborhood who actually knew how to read and write at all. He could show off to the others and they’d be so impressed that they’d have to be his friend.

The next day, he scribbled out a note to Alton. The other boy received it and turned up his nose.

“I can read this, you know. My mother taught me. Your handwriting is terrible.” He laughed in Quark’s face and bounded off to play with his other cronies.

Slightly bruised but used to it, Quark came home frowning. That worried Grandpa more than it usually did, and when Quark explained what happened, he got angry. Before, Quark might have retreated and cried and started apologizing. But recently, he’d figured out that Grandpa had two kinds of anger. When he was mad at Quark, he would never clench his fists or storm off to get a drink. Those things meant that Grandpa was mad at himself.

What Quark hadn’t figured out was what he was supposed to do in these moments. Now, he just sat there at the table, smoothing out and recrumpling the note that Alton had thrown back in his face. He waited, until Grandpa marched back over to him.

“School was awful, Quark,” he said determinedly. “There were friends there, but there were just as many bullies like Alton. Maybe more. The days were long and boring, and most of what they taught us ended up being useless. And I thought it was bad in Japan. If you were born here, in America… Quark, you can’t even imagine the bullet you dodged.”

Quark frowned and knit his eyebrows. “Was it really that bad for you, Grandpa?”

“I shouldn’t have told you all that stuff in the first place,” Grandpa muttered. Quark wasn’t sure if he even wanted him to hear. “I don’t want you to feel like you missed out on life before. You might start to think that this world isn’t worth living in, and…” He collapsed into the chair next to Quark, a fist to his forehead. Quark wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but he hesitated.

“Are you going to stop teaching me, then?” he said instead. He tried to hide his disappointment, but from the concern on Grandpa’s face, it didn’t seem like he did a good job.

“You don’t really want me to…?”

“Grandpa, you know so much stuff that I don’t know,” said Quark shyly. “I know you didn’t study to teach kids, but I really liked that you were sharing that stuff with me.” He worried that maybe he was saying this selfishly. Maybe all he really wanted was to keep up with Alton and his mother so he wouldn’t feel stupid in front of them again. He reassured himself that he was telling the truth.

Grandpa laughed. It was a sad sort of laugh. “Dammit,” he said. “I can’t help it if you’re so curious.”

Quark worried again that he had done something wrong, but then Grandpa put an affectionate hand on the top of his head. It felt like a promise.

[am-3-thyst]

using you

shouta aizawa x fem!reader 

 “we’re such a mess together, you make me lose my temper.”

word count: 0.9k

summary: after she left, he only then realised what he lost. It was so difficult to get over her, but for her it seemed otherwise

warnings: neglect, angst, anxiety, slight mention of not eating

request from @potofpatterns

part 2 of runaway runaway

He was restless. At night he felt himself crumble, bed empty, the house quiet. Mornings unfulfilled without the humming coming from the bathroom, or the smell of tea that brewed on the counter. Black specifically, with a tablespoon of honey. It was rough, coming home from a long day, not receiving her embrace, as she would rub the tension out of his back, or comb his hair thoroughly as he talked about his night. Where did it all go wrong?

Oh. 

It occurs to him, whilst he lays down in his bed, staring at the ceiling or the moonlight that peeked through the windows. Of course it was him at fault, because he couldn’t deal with his own shit. He expected himself to be more organised but of course he couldn’t make up his damn mind, he had no control. 

He felt stupid, really. As great as it was to reminisce on back in the days, when they constantly talked about their future. A happy, married future, adopting a cat or two, white picket fence and who knows, someday a family. But no, his actions changed all that. 

Constantly making lazy excuses for his own behaviour, for him lashing out, neglecting and ghosting her when the sun went down. It’s not like they spoke in the morning, both in hardworking jobs, especially due to him having to wake up earlier than her, it created distance between the two.

You’re the only one, who’s making me come to my sinful senses

Her smell still lingered in their, well, his apartment. He could only worry, is she okay? Is she safe? He could still imagine her body in his arms when he would embrace her late in the night. “Fuck.” He muttered, why would he let their relationship turn out this way? He could scoff in astonishment in himself, although he felt his throat grow dry. The fact that he was the one that chased her off was unbearable. 

He grunted, running his rough fingers through his ragged, black hair, already feeling the eye bags underneath his eyes grow heavier by the second. He had to do something, but where could she be? He was unsure. What happens if she sees me and I make everything so much worse? Throwing his fist against his bed, he dragged the covers over his shoulders.

This could wait ‘til morning.

—

He hooked a finger around the collar of his turtleneck nervously, a long black coat enveloped his figure as he stared into the reflection of a bakery window. He saw her there, on a park bench specifically. She still looked radiant as ever, but she had been speaking with a man he did not recognise. Her smile gleamed, but his had faltered. Were he to go speak with her? Wait until the man had left? Thoughts swirled and spiraled in his mind, unsure on how he should approach his fiance. Could he even still call her that? She hadn’t taken off the ring. That must have been a good sign.

Right?

He span around, she was waving bye to him, as he had walked off. His chance had come. So he coughed, and started walking up to her. 

I’ll never love anyone the same

It was when their eyes met, she had frozen. Worry burying in her stomach, a bad taste left in her mouth. He gave her a wave, unsure where to start. “I missed you, its- it makes me feel rotten when you aren’t home. You know I love you, and I miss having you around, in bed next to me every damn night, waiting for me at the latest of hours. I miss you getting on my ass whenever I haven’t eaten properly. You mean the world to me.” He huffed nervously. “Can we end this little feud between us, I can change for the better. Im sorry for how I’ve been, you didn’t deserve this – But I promise you we can go back to normal! I swear.”

  I’ll never feel ashamed of using you for pleasure.

She scoffed, eyebrows furrowing at her desperate ‘fiance’, who’s hands clambered in her presence. “You’re joking, right?” She shook her head in disbelief. “Shouta, I’ve dealt with you for months on end. All because I loved you, I stayed even while you had a stick up your ass. It only took me leaving for you to realise I didn’t deserve that treatment? Where is your common sense?” She stood up, face forward. “You truly are arrogant, We’ve been together for so long, Shouta. The man I fell in love with is gone, heck, every damn time I talked about our wedding, not once did you show enthusiasm!” 

She clenched the bag sitting on her shoulder. “You only want me once you realise what you have and will lose. After all the things I’ve done for you, I’d like you to even try to list the affection and attention you’ve given me.” 

He winced, her words hitting him like stones. 

“You’re an excuse of a man. the nerve to react like this, only to say you’ll change?” She was right, he thought. 

On so many occasions, he told her he would change, and a small spark of hope in her brain told her he was right. 

When now even he still hasn’t.

“I’m so damn exhausted, you act like I don't have a job too? Im uneasy every time I get home, my back aches and my migraines get so bad I need to sit down for a while. But you know what? I put it all aside for you.”

We’re such a mess together.

“God, you make me lose my temper!” 

 She exclaimed, fists clenched. “Especially after that ‘I’m not in love with you anymore’ bullshit? Really? As much as I hate to cause a scene, Shouta, you need to hear it. ‘Cause I’m done.” She wrapped her arms around her torso in an attempt to comfort and control herself. 

“Don’t do this to us, please, my girl.”

She scoffed, grabbing his palm. It felt so nice to receive touch from her, until she pulled the ring off her finger and placed it in his hand. 

“Don’t you see Shouta? You did this to yourself.”

[ink-flavored]

Kinktober2023 Day 18: Massaging + Rimming/Analingus

banner art by @/auroblaze

Knowing You contains: oral sex/rimming, hand-jobs, cis/trans, angel/demon Kinktober2023 Prompt List & Neocities Page Tips are appreciated!

Justice felt it as soon as he woke up. A crashing wave of loathing, guilt, rage, and regret, emanating from somewhere very close. He sighed up at the ceiling, chest crushed from more than the intense feeling alone, because this could mean only one thing. Pride was having a bad day.

In truth, Justice felt it all the time. Even in his best moments, a sliver of pain ran underneath Pride every day, so slight that Justice could almost ignore it. But there were also days like these—days where his pain was so encompassing, it was nearly tangible. A thick fog of suffering, hanging so heavy in the air, it wasn’t uncommon for Pride to stay locked in his room all day, stewing in it. Sometimes multiple days.

There was very little Justice could do for him. Offering him help outright was a lost cause, guaranteeing a venomous refusal. Pride didn’t want to be pitied, he didn’t want to admit he needed the help—because he did, no matter what he claimed. Justice had to get creative with his assistance to avoid Pride shutting down even harder. He whittled down a list, and discovered reliable three options that would help him feel better. And luckily for Justice, he could use one right now.

He pulled his locs out of his night cap and paced down the hall for breakfast. When he passed Pride’s room, the weight of his pain was almost overwhelming. Justice set his jaw and continued past, determined to brighten the day for him.

After a quick breakfast, he risked knocking on the bedroom door. No response, but that was typical. Justice pushed the door open, as quietly as he could.

The lights were off. The blinds on the windows were shut tightly, only the barest sliver of the morning able to creep in. A lump in the middle of the bed, buried under blankets and discarded clothes, was the most legible shape. Justice snuck inside, shutting the door behind him.

Pride didn’t move. Not when the door shut, not when Justice sat down on the bed, not even when he folded back the covers to see his face. He had his face crushed into a pillow, loose hair tangled up in an inky rat’s nest. Justice stroked his head anyway.

The thick cloud of pain hit him with even more potency, sitting right next to the source. It made him want to curl into a ball too, guilt and hatred crushing his ribs in an iron fist. At least Justice had the solace of knowing the feelings weren’t truly his—he couldn’t imagine how Pride felt.

“Hi,” Justice said, softly. “My Pride and joy.”

He didn’t move. Justice skipped ahead to the good part in case he came on too strong.

“It’s wash day today,” he continued. “If you’re out of bed when I get out of the shower, I would really appreciate your help.”

A heartbeat passed. Pride shifted on the pillow, poking one dull red eye out from his melancholy. Justice almost sighed in relief.

“The usual help, you know?”

Pride nodded slightly, rustling the pillowcase.

“Okay, I’ll look for you when I’m out.”

Justice leaned down to kiss his temple and stood up to leave. As he opened the door, he turned around like he’d forgotten something. “Oh, and I made too much for breakfast this morning. You can have the extra if you want.”

Pride didn’t respond, but the pillowcase rustled again. Justice slipped out, finally letting himself breathe deeply to release the tension. Then, he left for the shower, hoping the pain would lessen before he got out.

It was a balancing act, trying to comfort Pride. He had to be coaxed into it. Justice had to let him feel like he was needed without directly saying so. Wash day was a perfect opportunity—if he needed Pride’s help with his hair, then he was important. If he was given something to do that made him feel significant, it was a near-immediate cure to any of his poor moods.

But again, he had to be careful. If Justice outright stated that he made Pride breakfast on purpose, instead of “accidentally” making extra, then he would feel coddled. Despite how much he wanted affection on an average day, showering Pride with unprompted adoration during one of these spells made him retreat deeper into his gloom. Justice learned that the hard way—when his hugs were slapped away and offers to help were refused on principle.

And as the hot water poured over his head, down his shoulders, and splattered on the floor, Justice fought the instinct to make all his previous mistakes. Pain radiated from beyond the bathroom walls, and all he wanted to do was hold Pride. To curl up in bed with him, kiss him dozens of times, and promise to love him to the end of the Earth. It crushed a piece of his heart every time he felt Pride suffering, and forced himself to hold back.

The only thing that soothed him was the knowledge that this was helping. That Pride needed him to be careful for a few hours, to hold off smothering him, so he could feel confident enough to ask for affection on his own again. And that was more important to him than indulging in his instincts.

Justice took a bit longer in the shower than usual, to give Pride a little more time. Once he was out, though, he dried his hair the quick way. After ten minutes with a microfiber towel and blow-drier, he was ready for the main event. Hopefully Pride was too.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and plucked two bottles from his half of the bathroom cabinets—jojoba oil and a rosewater moisturizing spray. The cool air of the outside world rushed against his warm body, and he padded into the living room with bated breath.

To his relief, Pride was there. He sat on the couch, picking his nails, hair still a mess, but he was out. Justice couldn’t help smiling, even as the cloud of pain struck him face-first.

“Thank you,” he said. “I really like having your help for this.”

“Sure,” Pride mumbled, rubbing his nose.

Justice handed him the bottles and sat down on the floor. Pride dabbed his palm with the oil, and smoothed it onto his locs one at a time. Minute after minute passed, Justice paying close attention to the haze in the air. Pride didn’t say a word the whole time, barely made a sound. But the anguish slowly fizzled, growing softer at the edges. It didn’t disappear, but Justice felt his chest lighten, no longer clouded with Pride’s pain as well as his own.

Once each loc had been oiled, Pride sprayed his head with a cloud of rosewater, then went over each one again with the oil to seal in the moisture. Then, as part of their routine, he dabbed some of the oil on Justice’s scalp and gave him a massage.

After a morning of worry, Justice let himself relax. He had no choice, really, Pride’s fingers soothing him whether he liked it or not. Firm circles loosened his scalp, releasing tightness he didn’t realize was there. He sighed involuntarily, savoring the feeling.

“I’m awesome at this,” Pride said.

“Yes,” Justice agreed. “You’re wonderful.”

“I bet I could do a full-body massage.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. How hard could it be if I’m already awesome at this kind?”

“It has to be more complicated than that.”

“All I’m doing right now is moving my fingers around and it rules. Why wouldn’t I be great at other kinds of massages too?”

Justice caught himself in the middle of a retort. This was an opportunity to use a second option to make Pride feel better.

“Do you want to prove it?” he asked.

Pride slowed to a stop. “Right now?”

“I’m already not wearing much. Besides, I’m curious now.”

Even in his subdued state, Pride got off the couch fast. He took the bottles with him, and Justice had to chase him down to put them away.

The second thing that reliably made Pride feel better was to let him win some kind of competition. Even if it was a fake contest, where the only prize was a feeling of correctness, or a manufactured argument about nonsense, he loved winning. Justice tried to avoid using this method as often as he could, because when Pride won at something, he got smug. In this case, even if Pride did end up proving he was as good at full-body massages as scalp massages, Justice might have to put up with his gloating, but he would also get a free massage. The pros outweighed the cons, this time.

They ended up in Justice’s room, with Pride brandishing a bottle of body lotion instead of haircare products. Justice laid face-down on the bed, hair tied up and off his back, and towel discarded for the sake of “authenticity.” He just rolled with it.

“Okay,” Pride said. He slapped his hands together wetly.

“Please don’t get lotion everywhere,” Justice told him.

“I got this, trust me.”

That sentence had never ended in anything but panic, but Justice swallowed his anecdotes. Pride slid lotion-y hands up his back, gliding over his clean skin. He dug his palms into his shoulders, and he grunted, muscle straining against the pressure. From there, Pride worked his way down, rubbing and sinking his hands into his back. Lower and lower, he massaged in small circles, all the way to his glutes.

“Watch it,” Justice warned, with absolutely no bite.

“It’s part of your body, isn’t it?” Pride responded, squeezing him there for something other than massage purposes.

Justice chuckled into his arms instead of responding, and Pride worked his way back up again. For a while, that’s all he did. Up and down, driving his palms and fingers into the soft skin and taut muscle, enough to make Justice grunt and breathe deep. The lotion made his hands smooth and frictionless, rolling over his back with ease.

There was a gap between Pride and a professional, surely, but Justice melted into the mattress under his touch. The gradual loosening of his muscles was proof of his efforts, turning his centuries-old battle-ready body into a pile of mush. Pride wandered farther down his back, giving his lower body the same attention his shoulders received. He released a breath into the pillow, eyes shut.

“’S nice,” he mumbled, giving Pride the win for this challenge.

Pride responded by crawling over to kiss his neck. “You’re nice too.”

Justice smiled a little. Maybe it was his lack of concentration, but the constant wave of suffering seemed to be gone now. Pride only radiated his usual sliver of discomfort. And though Justice wished he could alleviate every last drop, this was more than acceptable. His ideas worked to put Pride in a better mood, which was all that mattered.

Pride didn’t have any plans to stop. On the contrary, he dug in a bit more on his waist and glutes, soft caresses becoming firm grabs. Justice shifted in place, not uncomfortable, but wondering what he was up to. It was only when a slick tongue slipped between his ass did Justice remember the third option that never failed to cheer Pride up:

Sex. Having a lot of sex.

Justice pressed a shocked gasp into the pillow, tensing all his loosened muscles. Pride gripped and spread his ass licking a wide stripe up his crack.

“P-Pride?” he stammered.

He paused, kissing the inside of one of his cheeks. “You look really good right now. I want to.”

Justice whimpered a little. His body was mush, his mind buzzed, and he was way too hard to refuse. He nodded into the pillow and Pride promptly made him moan into it.

The tip of his tongue pressed against the edge of his hole, drawing tiny circles around the rim. His hands kneaded his ass while he licked, keeping up the illusion of a massage. Justice breathed hard, tingling all over. Pride pulled his ass apart, tugging with his thumbs, and licked him widely again. As badly as Justice wanted to muffle himself, he turned his head so Pride would be sure to hear him gasp.

Sex itself wasn’t the key to improving his mood. There were plenty of situations where he would refuse it. What the real solution was, why it really worked, was being wanted. As badly as Pride wanted to be important, Pride wanted to be wanted. Being desired was important to him. And Justice knew the best way to do that.

 “Pride?” he breathed, shuddering through his wandering tongue. “M-more?”

The bed shifted as Pride changed position. Justice lifted his hips when he tried to wiggle a hand underneath, and moaned when it grasped his cock. Pride tongued his hole and stroked him lightly, just enough to move his foreskin back and forth. Justice leaned on his arms to make sure he had room, shaking all the while.

Like the massage, Pride’s work melted him. He flushed hot from head to toe, panting and moaning breathily at everything that was done to him. Pride pressed his tongue in tighter and tighter circles, expanding back out when he couldn’t go any farther. The hand over his cock teased his tip, making him whine loud.

“Pride, I—” he managed. “I really, really feel s-so good.”

He responded by licking him widely again, and stroking him hard. Justice keened, faintly wishing he was better at non-scripted dirty talk, not that it seemed to matter. Pride rewarded him for every sound he made—wordless, broken, begging, anything. He gave until Justice squirmed, trying to rock against his tongue and into his hand at the same time.

“I’m c-close,” he gasped. “It’s—I’m g-gonna come for you—!”

Justice barely finished the sentence before he came, jerking forward and shuddering into the pillow. Pride kissed all over his ass, stroking him through his orgasm, until he was spent. Dizzy from the attention, Justice didn’t realize Pride left the room until he came back. He rolled Justice onto his back and kissed him, with a minty-fresh mouth.

“Hi,” he said. “You’re hot.”

Justice giggled weakly, kissing him back. When his eyes focused, he saw Pride had combed his hair, too, and tied it back in his usual style.

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

Pride softened, pressing their heads together. “Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

And that was all the reward Justice needed.

[brandstifter-sys]

Secrets Don't Make Boyfriends

@dukexietyweek 2024 - Day 2 - Swap + Secrets

Word count: 1347 (Ao3)

Rating: T

Characters: Remus, Virgil

Pairing: Dukexiety

Warnings: sex mention, mild horror, Anxiety!Remus, Dark Creativity!Virgil

Remus is anxiety, and he is stressed from everything, but especially an intrusive spider who's hiding something from him. Secrets don't make friends, or boyfriends!

---

It wasn't easy being anxiety. Remus could tell you that much. He hated worrying over the littlest things—like his deceptive brother lying himself into a corner, or Janus torching his own ego with his failed ideas. He didn't have to worry about Logic’s puns, or Morality’s long winded tangents, unless they did something stupid. But there was one person who drove him up a wall with worry—the Magician. 

Remus couldn't even count the number of times that bastard wormed his way into the conversation, how many times he cornered the mustachioed punk and tormented him for fun. Especially since he revealed himself to Thomas. If Remus couldn't tell that he was hiding something, he would have shut that bastard up with his mouth. Several times. 

It had been a stressful day of phone calls and work for Thomas, and Remus was feeling it. He was in the Imagination on Janus' side, taking out his frustrations in the gym Janus made for him after he was accepted. It was good to have a Creativity on his side. There was nothing better than exercise to channel the adrenaline. 

With his music blasting, Remus went to town on his favorite punching bag. He was in the zone, hands taped and slamming into the fabric with precision and force. He was bouncing on his feet, ready to strike anyone who got too close, not that anyone with sense would. They knew not to mess with someone in cargo shorts and chucks with a mean right hook. 

Well, most of them knew not to mess with him. 

As soon as “Five Cellars Below” started playing, a chill ran down Remus' spine. The shadows in the corners of his vision were suddenly darker, seemingly skittering away from him. 

Fan-fucking-tastic

He was on alert. 

Great. He was trying to get the anxious feelings out, not build them up! 

His fists met the bag with even more vigor. If that bastard was really there, he would jumpscare his way into the room. Remus was never ready for that!

BAM

Remus shrieked as a bloody face jumped out at him from the punching bag. He fell on his ass and then his back hit the floor. Of all the bullshit ways to scare him, that was the cheapest shot possible! 

He grumbled to himself and squeezed his eyes shut, just to keep his heart from beating out of his chest. 

“You know, you're pretty cute from this angle,” a cool voice purred. Remus immediately opened his eyes, just to come face to face with a menace. 

Virgil had him pinned down, with one hand running up his shirt. The smug bastard was smirking at him like he just captured the perfect prey. 

“Virgil!” Remus snapped and pushed him back. He got up before Virgil could complain. 

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me! You already gave me extra work to do—do you want me to have a heart attack?!” Remus huffed and dusted off his clothes. At least his Sum 41 shirt was still intact. 

“I like making your heart race,” Virgil said and got up. Remus hated that no matter what he did, Virgil could still look hot as hell. Maybe it was just the fact that he only had an open leather vest and shamelessly tight pants that made him look like a manwhore. 

“Find someone else to torment. Someone who isn't keeping Thomas from doing all the bullshit you keep suggesting!” 

“You know I have to go after the person blocking me left and right, Remus,” Virgil said, with a laugh. 

“It's part of the job description. We both know that,” Remus said and stretched his arms behind his back.

“You’re avoiding me,” Virgil said flatly. 

“Yeah, I don't really need my anxiety going nuts. You're hiding something from me and it's driving me nuts,” Remus grunted and stretched one arm across his chest. 

“If that were it, you would've avoided me before,” Virgil huffed and neared Remus menacingly. Remus swallowed thickly and backed away, at least until a wall got in the way. 

“Virgil—” Remus gawked as Virgil loomed over him. He was so close, so easy to shove aside. Remus couldn't bring himself to do anything. 

“Did those puffballs brainwash you?” Virgil growled and grabbed his jaw, “Or maybe you realized that you hate me just like everyone else.” 

“They didn't do anything, and I don't hate you,” Remus breathed, staring into those sad, tired eyes. For the first time in a long time, he could see how much Virgil was hurting. 

“Then why?” Virgil asked with tears brimming in his eyes. 

“Because you're close with Roman and I had to get away from him,” Remus responded and grabbed Virgil's wrist, “You know he would be happy to get me killed!” 

“He's a mean, lying bastard, but he's all I have. He's the only one who puts up with me anymore,” Virgil snarled before his voice dropped to a whisper, “I miss you.” 

“Virge, let go—” 

“I can't! I can't let you go! I tried to move on, but I still want you! I would be fine with being friends but you don't even want that—” 

“Virgil!” Remus said firmly, “Let go of my face!” 

Virgil stumbled back and freed his jaw. He said too much and Remus would hate him for real! 

Remus reached out and cupped Virgil's cheek. He was more concerned about the intrusive thot’s feelings than scared of his crush. Virgil leaned into the touch and averted his gaze, giving Remus a chance to breathe easy. 

“Virge, you okay?” 

“I know I'm a lot to handle, but I don't want you to hate me too. You're the only one who's ever genuinely nice to me, even if you don't like me,” Virgil grumbled. 

“I don't hate you,” Remus said softly, “If I knew that you felt like this, I would have done something sooner.” 

“Done what?” 

“Something,” Remus jeered and wiggled his mustache. 

“Being vague just gives me more opportunities to ruin things,” Virgil pouted. And then his eye twitched and his eyeshadow got darker. Oopsie! 

Remus giggled and leaned in so that their lips were brushing. His heart was hammering in his chest and he wanted to close the gap. But he would wait for Virgil to finish the job. 

Virgil grabbed his hair and kissed him like Remus would vanish if he didn't. Remus wrapped his arms around Virgil and pulled him closer, kissing back with far more passion than he thought possible. 

“Remus,” Virgil muttered when they pulled apart, “Am I dreaming again?” 

“That never happens,” Remus sighed, “Don't you only have nightmares?” 

“No, sometimes I have wet dreams,” Virgil shrugged, “and sometimes they're vanilla. But they always have you in them.” 

“Are you saying you have a crush on me? That's what you've been hiding for years? That's what was keeping me up at night?” 

“Yeah. I thought it would scare you away,” Virgil admitted shyly, “You get scared easily.”

“Of all the stupid shit,” Remus huffed and tackled him to the floor, “You really thought keeping it a secret wouldn't scare me?” 

“It might scare you less than the truth,” Virgil pouted up at him. 

“If you hate when I'm vague, don't you think I'd hate knowing you're hiding something?” Remus scoffed, “You're making it up to me, you jerkface!” 

“How? It takes forever to get out of these pants,” Virgil jeered and grabbed his butt with both hands. 

Remus barked out a laugh and shook his head. 

“You don't need to do that. You could just spar with me for an hour. Everyday.” 

“What if I just danced with you instead?” Virgil teased and gave his cute little butt a squeeze. 

“I don't think so, Spidey. I know what dancing means and I don't need an hour of that daily!” 

“You're right. It would take more than an hour. Maybe even all night,” Virgil jeered. 

“Take me on a date first, and we'll see,” Remus snickered. And then he kissed that sly spider again before he lost his nerve.

[stephaniebrownslover]

I would look at the sky and imagine we were our past selves until I remember what really happened[Part 1]

Alright pals, let's start this story.

And I decided divide chapters into 2 parts since most people won't prefer reading 7k-8k words.

Tim rubbed his eyes hard to see anything but darkness. Since this only caused him to see strange shapes in the dark, he soon stopped doing it. He needed to spend a little more time in the disturbing darkness that was gnawing at his soul inwardly, he could do it.

He wasn't one of those damn weaklings. He had spent most of his life in the dark, and he could bear it for a few more minutes. He could have done it.

He had to do it.

He took a few deep breaths. He clenched what he thought were his hands as well, they had probably taken the shape of a fist. He pressed the area he guessed to be his teeth together brutally, the slight creaking sound he heard made it obvious how hard he was squeezing.

And he just waited in the dark without doing anything.

He let his memories fade again one by one.

And he cursed his life for it. He cursed for his weakness, incompetence and, more importantly, himself.

The less he resisted this process, the less he would be hurt. And Tim had stopped fighting back a long time ago.

He had given up. He had given up and hated himself because of this decision.

He tried to calm himself, took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. Then he let out air which was heated by his body temperature. He repeated this step several times.

And now, the familiar ringing sound had also begun. That disgusting, static ringing sound makes you want to bang your head against the walls.

That meant the job was done.

Everything was fine, the memory check was over, and he would regain his eyesight soon.

Everything was fine.

Tim wanted to believe that the more he repeated a sentence, the more real it would become. But he had a lot of doubts about such beliefs like this. He knew it wasn't real.

If it was real, he had already gone to hell, which is a better place than here.

Everything was fine, everything is fine.

Here, he had already regained his eyesight.

"You may leave."

Tim was startled by the sound resembling a bone breaking sound he heard inside his head. Bo matter how many times he heard it, he would never get used to it.

His master was standing in front of him, looking at Tim, who was late to putting on his mask compared to the others.

Damn it.

Tim took a deep breath and pulled down his mask, which had been stripping off to the top of his head, with his trembling hands as quickly as possible, back to his face.

He knew the others were watching him. Everyone's eyes were on him, and they were waiting to slip his foot at the slightest mistake. He was relieved that his mistake was minor this time, but he had to be more careful for the next time. He lived among wolves and they were constantly looking for opportunities to destroy him.

He couldn't trust anyone, including himself.

When Masky saw the other proxies leaving their master's room, he made a move to leave after them.

"Not you, Masky."

When he heard this, he swallowed. Whatever he wanted him to stay for, it certainly couldn't be a good thing.

He watched the others leave one by one from under the eyeholes of his mask, like a poor animal waiting to be killed in fear.

And when Toby had left the room, he was left alone with his master.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

"I see that there has been a decrease in your performance recently."

He didn't say anything, he knew that answering would make him even more angry.

Instead, he bowed his head in shame, broke one knee, kneeling down in front of Slenderman.

"Fix the problem."

He spoke with an effort so that his voice did not tremble.

"Understood, sir."

"You can leave now."

At the word he heard, Masky raised his head in the air again and stood on his feet, supported by his knee. Without showing any desire to stay, he opened the door with almost running steps and left the room.

He sighed as he closed the door behind him.

It wasn't as bad as I thought.

"Why did he c-alled you, gol-den b-boy?"

Of course.

Of course Toby had expected him to come out to have a word.

Because the fucking kid had nothing better to do except mess with Masky.

"Shut up, ticcy."

Masky reflexively turned his hands into fists. Whenever he felt threatened, he squeezed his fingers, so now it had become natural for him.

He could guess that Toby, who heard this, was not happy. He couldn't see the damn kid's eyes or mouth, but he didn't need to, thanks to his extremely readable body language.

Noticing that Toby had also turned one hand into a fist, Hoodie placed his hand on Toby's shoulder.

"Hey hey, calm down."

Toby threw Hoodie's hand off his shoulder with shaking his arms. Masky was pleased that he chose Toby to put his hand on because he didn't want to hurt the only person he could stand in an argument or a similar incident.

At least for no reason.

He was only going to hurt Hoodie when he betrayed him.

"W-what-ever. Take c-care of m-mask fa-ce."

Toby's stuttering had increased. Masky realized that his behavior made him really angry. He had already regretted it but he could not undo his behavior, he would not.

This would only cause him to lose the impression he had in the eyes of others. They would think he was soft.

And if they would think he was soft, they wouldn't even hesitate to kill him.

He could not stay under these words, he had to say another sentence that would hurt him. It must have been so painful that he should not have dared to oppose himself again, and-

"Everyone needs to mind their own business."

Toby made no move.

Hoodie crossed his arms. Although it was not obvious from under his black mask, he wore an expression that Masky guessed was quite harsh.

"So get lost, Toby."

"Pff. Y-you're a-alre-ady too b-bori-ng."

Toby shook his head with a sudden tic. He seemed like he wanted to say something but instead, he took slow steps and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.

"Didn't need babysitting."

Masky put his hand in his pockets and leaned against the wall, which was discolored because reflected light from the room was not enough on its own.

''I know."

"Then what! Why the hell you treating me like this!"

"One day, you'll get yourself killed. You know that, do you?"

In response, Hoodie just leaned against the wall, next to the Masky. He was somehow managing to maintain his usual calm demeanor, including this situation. Masky really envied this.

But when it was done to him in such situations, he get on his nerves.

"You think I don't know? Look around, we're all gonna die!"

He pulled away from the wall which he was leaning against, he could feel his anger starting to take control.

Tim hated Masky.

And their feelings were mutual.

"And why can't we delay it?"

"The fuck you telling me?"

Sarcasm flowed from Masky's voice.

"Gonna say this once. You're too good to die."

After hearing this, his reaction was to speak using a tone of voice, as if Hoodie had made a ridiculous joke.

"What?"

Hoodie looked serious despite what he said.

He must have been joking.

He must have been making fun of him.

He had finally started his plans to end his life, finally the real face of that oh so mysterious Hoodie was revealed, and hid purpose to kill Masky-

"I've been observing you for some time. You're the most useful and bearable person in this hellhole."

Masky wasn't expecting this, he was really surprised, but he knew enough about expressing his reactions.

A short silence occurred between them. Even hearing this from a friend was strange, hearing it from a stranger was even more weird.

He leaned against the wall again, turned his head away from Hoodie and began to look at the dark side of the corridor in front of him.

He's lying to you.

Kill him.

Make him trust you and betray him.

Just like he planned to do to you.

"The fuck you waiting me to say?"

"A thank you wouldn't be that bad."

"Fuck off."

"This'll do, too."

After saying that, Hoodie was pulled off the wall. Without feeling the need to turn around, he disappeared out of sight in the dark area of the corridor. His voice was ringing in Masky's ears.

"You know where to find me when you come to your senses."

And Brian left behind only Tim, who was watching him in a confused expression.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Jack put on an extremely emotionless expression; he continued to walk by pressing on the leaves, ignoring the cold that wanted to freeze him. After all, he didn't get cold. Since he was no longer a human being, he could not have the right to feel the cold.

The dead leaves crushed under his feet were crunching, the icy winter wind was blowing as if it wanted to freeze him. He was walking alone in the cemetery, which had an even more gloomy air because of the closed sky.

Even he had not the slightest idea why he was here. The only thing he knew was that he found himself in this cemetery before he had a chance to think.

Who knows, maybe he wanted to remind himself of his past stupidity so that he wouldn't make the mistake of making the same mistake again.

Or he wanted to punish his own stupidity in the most severe way.

He knew he was getting close to the position etched in his muscle memory.

And there it was.

It's contaminated.

He had already arrived to his own grave.

Now that he saw his target, he slowed down even more, while he should have been quickening his steps.

He did not want to go there.

He already knew how stupid he was, he remembered it every second he took a breath. Not while living, but while breathing.

Because Jack was no longer alive.

And the hard concrete stone standing in front of him was one of the greatest proofs of this.

Jack was a dead man, he was dead, and his soul was buried. However, his body was still living.

Without having a soul to warm it.

Stupid.

1889-2012

Here lies Jack Nichols

–A good friend, son and human–

The things that were written were just nonsense.

He was not a good person.

Moreover, he was not a good son at all.

If he had been a good son, his family would not have left him.

His head was already starting to ache.

When he came exactly in front of the grave, he knelt down slowly. He hadn't found a reason for doing this, it was just some kind of instinct that came from inside. Perhaps he was afraid that his legs would not agree to carry him any further. And more importantly, his instincts had been the only thing that had not misled him.

He moved slightly without standing up, and sat down on top of the part where his coffin should have been. Knowing that he was sitting on top of a hollow coffin, meters below the ground, was enough to chill his icy heart.

You're stupid.

Jack rested his back against the cold stone made of concrete and gently pulled his legs towards him. His legs weren't exactly on his stomach, but they weren't straight either.

For a while, he sat doing nothing, ignoring the winter cold. He had no idea how long he had been sitting for, he didn't say anything.

You deserve to be here like this, you idiot.

You could never be a doctor anyway.

Hah, you're really pathetic.

It hurt him as his own thoughts flew through his mind.

It was interesting, he didn't know that monsters could hurt. In all the stories he knew, they had depicted monsters like himself as cruel, bloodthirsty and never harmed beings.

Jack was a cruel monster too, but why did he get hurt every damn day?

He loosened his hands, which he had unwittingly formed into fists because of his thoughts, at the sound he heard in the middle of the cemetery.

It was a bird's voice.

A small, blue-feathered bird was leaning its body against one of Jack's hands, which he had formed into a fist. And when Jack opened his hands, it was in the palm of his hand. It was making cheerful noises with the happiness of having found a warmer place than outside.

Jack didn't understand what was happening at first.

A bird, a real bird, was showing him love. It wasn't attacking him. It wasn't trying to hurt him or run away from him.

It trusts me...

Jack did not know what to do as the little bird rubbed its head against his gray-colored palm. He was surprised. And he was more surprised than he had ever been in his new life. He did not know what he should do.

But he was sure of one thing; he did not want to hurt it.

He closed his palm with an attitude that showed he was caring to not to harm the little creature, and put his right hand under the bird to get a better view of the bird. Although the blue-feathered bird made a squealing-like sound at first, it didn't do anything when he released his palm. It just started walking, using his big right hand as a kind of base.

Jack carefully observed the little soul in his hand without even blinking an eye.

It doesn't use its right leg.

Since it was careful not to use one of its legs, it probably had a wound that hurt it. The fact that its leg was standing in a more bizarre position than usual also proved this thought.

It's hurt.

That was really interesting.

The bird was too injured to escape, and even in this state, it did trust Jack to not kill it?

When the bird was about to fall out of Jack's hands because it lost its balance, he grabbed it with his left hand. This time it turned its face to Jack while squealing with joy.

Jack did not know what to do when the bird started flapping its wings slightly and suddenly took off. Of course it was afraid of Jack. What was he thinking? It really liked him and trusted him or something-

Oh.

It didn't leave.

The bird was placed on his shoulder instead of going away.

Jack did not move for some time, fearing to hurt it. The only time he really moved was when the bird rubbed its face against his. It wasn't exactly touching his face, it was more that it touched his head to the area behind his mask and close to his hair, but since it still didn't pull its head, it must have liked it.

Trying very hard not to hurt the bird, he raised his finger in the air, placed it on top of the bird's head. He moved his finger back and forth with a fairly light movement.

The bird, who liked this, gently bit Jack's face while singing merrily again. This was not an attacking bite; more like a playful bite that showed the birds love towards their owner. He definitely wasn't hurt, he even liked it.

Neither had Jack himself noticed that his lips under his mask curled up for a slight smile.

In order to observe the bird more carefully, he gently grasped its delicate body and lowered it down from his shoulder. When he took it in his hands, he gently stroked its head so that it wouldn't be afraid. This kept it calm for a while and the little blue bird closed his eyes. Then, to understand the problem better, he turned it upside down and brought its leg, which was in the air, closer to himself.

Looks like it's broken.

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be anything too serious. If it had a problem that required surgery, there was a very high risk that it would not wake up due to anesthesia. Since birds are very sensitive animals, the anesthesia was heavy on their bodies. Although he is not a veterinarian, he learned this in medical school.

He raised his head to the sky with the wetness he felt in his hair.

As he had predicted, it had started to rain.

Because of the rain, which seemed to be getting heavier quickly, he was sure what his next step would be.

Without hurting the bird, he took it in the palm of his hand and closed his hands.

"I think you're coming with me."

He placed it in the top pocket of his jacket so that its body could stay warm. Then he got up and started walking with serial steps.

He turned his way from the cold cemetery to Slender Manor, realizing for the first time that he did not leave here with pessimistic feelings.

The bird tried to get out while singing in his pocket, but when Jack gently stroked its head, it calmed down and got back into the pocket.

You'll be fine.

I'll make you feel better.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

Slenderman was on his classic night patrol to make sure that no parasites were wandering around his forest. As he quietly stepped through the darkness, he did not neglect to pay attention to some of the oddities he saw in bis forest.

For example, he was quite sure that the tree standing in front of him should not have been cut down.

Or he knew that his own slaves weren't allowed to let intestines flow down from trees.

As he was stepping through the forest, more and more small details were starting to catch his eye. Moreover, the number of these abnormalities was increasing more and more every day.

He had not gone mad. At least not enough to not know the truth.

No, there's definitely been something weird going on in his forest lately.

And whatever the situation was, he was going to solve it.

I am coming for you.

He knew who his first suspect was. He led his long legs out of the forest.

I will make sure you regret it.

Other parts