#he just stood there cracking up about how he scared me for like 5 minutes while I just stood there

[kishibe-kisser]

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader (nsfw)

You play a game of hide & seek with Toji and only God can save you if you get caught

Tags: fear kink, manhandling kink, oral (fem receiving), spitting, rough sex, crying

The closet felt so stuffy, dust particles sparkling in the cracks of light seeping into the closet's opening. While clasping a hand over your mouth, you made a mental note to clean the closet when all of this was over.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you tried to calm your breathing, listening intently for the heavy footsteps that would be approaching surely any second. You may have made the bet that Toji wouldn't be able to find you, but you knew deep in the back of your mind that he was more than capable of doing so. That was partially why you proposed it even though you were terrified now... of what he'd do when he found you. 5 minutes had passed and you found yourself getting comfortable, which you knew was a bad move.

He got off on this, knowing you were scared of him, knowing you were somewhere in the house with your heart pounding and cunt throbbing. Toji knew exactly where you were, but there was no fun in storming the second your head start was up. He wanted you to feel at ease for a moment before he ripped it all away. He even wandered over to the fridge and poured himself a drink, sighing heavily as he savoured the last drop.

You loved pushing his buttons, that was clear. Suggesting a silly game like this, questioning what he was capable of? Amusing to say the least. Looking at the clock on the wall, 10 minutes had passed and Toji decided to put an end to this.

It felt like so much time had passed and you were beginning to wonder if he was looking for you at all. Still sitting on the floor of the closet with your hand over your mouth, you had to hold back a small scream when a shadow blocked the few rays of light. You hadn't even heard his footsteps, not once. Toji pulled the closet door open and sunk to his knees, getting to your level.

He looked deranged, disheveled hair and eyes dark, his compression shirt doing nothing to hide the way his chest was heaving. A strong hand wrapped around your bare ankle, pulling you across the ground and out of the closet. A shriek left your lips and he ran his tongue over his own, making you instinctively want to shut your thighs for some friction.

"Never-" He started, the hand on your ankle lifting your leg and placing it over his shoulder. Mimicking the action with your other leg, he raised your hips in the air so his face was eye level with your panty covered cunt and your dress bunched up at your hips. "Underestimate me." He finished, ripping the fabric to the side as he crouched on his knees and gripped at your hips.

He loved seeing just how soaked you were, cunt drooling at the fear you felt while waiting for him. You could feel his breath fanning over your folds and you tried bucking your hips, not being able to even wiggle under his strong arms.

"Toji." You whined, your nails scratching at the wooden floor in anticipation. This was such a sight to him, not being able to stop the damn near evil smirk pulling over his scarred lips. He warned you about what would happen if he found you.

His lips attached himself to your cunt, tongue swirling over your folds. His nails dug into your hips, keeping them raised in the air as you cried out. You felt helpless, terrified, and the most turned on you had ever been. You loved it when he manhandled you, made sure you had no way of escaping his grip.

You almost came instantly as he pulled away from your cunt, lips and chin glistening as he smirked. While you were dripping wet, you weren't wet enough to him for what he had in store. Spitting on your cunt, the rough pads of his fingers swirled it around before pulling away from you fully. He allowed your legs to drop and wrap around his waist. Before you could even raise an eyebrow at him or whine for your loss of orgasm, he stood up and lifted you with him.

You hadn't noticed that he pulled his sweatpants down just under his cock, until you felt it prodding at your entrance. Your eyes locked with Toji's, a small wave of fear travelling through your body and making you walls clench. He looked even more feral than before, now that your forehead was pressing against his. All of your body weight resting in his arms as he sunk into you.

The stretch made you scream out, nails biting into his large clothed shoulders. This was alot for the minimal amount of prep that you had, tears pooling in your eyes. Everything about Toji was large, his cock was no exception and the sting it left behind was something you could never get used to.

He moved you up and down his cock, using you like a toy to get himself off and that made you squeeze him even tighter. A tear slipped down your cheek as your stomach tightened, getting closer to cumming with each slam of his hips. "You didn't stand a chance." He grumbled, enjoying the sight of the tear. "I knew where you were the second we entered the house." Your heart dropped at his words as your cunt cried for him, cumming so hard your legs shook around his waist.

"God, you look so pretty when you're scared."

This was the punishment for losing the game and you couldn't see it ending any time soon.

A/N: One hell of a post to ring in the new blog. But this thought was absolutely plaguing my mind and it just fits Toji so well. I was reading a dark romance book and something similar to this happened and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

[foreverinadais]

ex: m.s

summary: you see your ex in the grocery store. 

warnings: angst (with a sad ending) only slight fluff, awkwardness

pairings: predominantly marc x reader but jake and steven are mentioned 

word count: 2.7k :)

ex! mk series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

It was Marc.

You could tell immediately by the slight quip in his eyebrow and the downturn of his mouth. He hated shopping, especially for groceries. You wondered how he drew the short straw. Perhaps the other two had forced him because they’d done it enough. Or maybe he liked it now. 

The thought of not quite knowing who he was anymore made your stomach churn in a way it hadn’t for months. He wasn’t your Marc anymore. The one who also seemed stoic. The one who always cracked unexpected jokes. The one who you shared every moment with. The one who hated grocery shopping.

You suddenly felt overwhelmed. Because there he was. So close yet so far.

You certainly hadn’t expected this when you left your flat this morning. It had been 4 months. 4 months of failed dates, 4 months of crappy rom coms, 4 months of Spotify’s best ‘break-up mixes’. You had only just felt the strength to say you were moving on, though how can anyone really move on from the loves of their life?

You hadn’t heard from him for those months. Steven had called you once at 2 am but no sooner than he had, you got a ‘sorry, accident’ message. You swore you’d seen Jake’s cab loitering in the midst of a busy street once but convinced yourself it was your brain playing tricks on you. 

Because they had moved on, too. You’d heard about Steven’s big promotion at work. You almost sent him a congratulations message, overcome with forgotten happiness at your boyfr- ex- boyfriend’s success but stopped yourself. He isn’t yours to congratulate anymore. 

Marc was the only one who was radio silent. You didn’t know anything about him now. But he was wearing the same jacket. The one you once stole off his back and wore all night on a memorable but blurry night in a London pub. Perhaps he wasn’t much different. The thought scared you even more. 

Maybe he didn’t need to move on because he didn’t need you. Not then, not now.

You jumped when your mind came back to the present and those eyes were boring into yours. You had almost forgotten that he could also see you, that you weren’t looking through binoculars to peek into his life, that he was here, now.

He wasn’t smiling. That didn’t surprise you. It was rare he’d smile in public, let alone doing something he hated. And though it wasn’t rare that he’d show you his smile, after everything, he certainly wouldn’t now. 

Should you say hi? Ask how he is? How they all are? 

You were stuck. Stuck staring at your past who you once thought was your future. 

How can you condense that feeling into words? You couldn’t. You were left with actions as you offered a small smile, going as far as a wave. Marc’s tough demeanour didn’t falter as he eventually gave a single nod of acknowledgment. Your stomach flipped, heart beating undoubtedly faster. 

Though it had felt like an eternity had passed, it had really been less than a minute. There was a bustle of people around you, surrounding the bubble you’d created in your mind, and time was moving on, just like it had been for all these months. 

“Excuse me,” You apologised to the lady who was trying to move by you, stepping into the space in front of you to allow her access in the aisle. You quickly realised you were closer to Marc, so close it almost made you jump when you looked back up to see him still stood there, zoned out, no doubt in deep conversation with his alters and you other ex’s. You could imagine the commotion; Steven panicking, Jake acting nonchalant. But Marc… Marc was near impossible to read, always had been.

You’d like to think you had mastered it. But now, staring at him, it was as if he was a stranger. A stranger with memories. 

“Hey.” The voice surprised you. Yes, this was the first time hearing it after radio silence but… you certainly didn’t anticipate him speaking first, if at all. You cleared your throat, once, twice, fearful words would fail. 

But they didn’t as you got out a small, “hi.” A small silence followed, both trying to look for words to say, anything that would be appropriate in a situation like this. “So, do you come here often?” You hadn’t meant to sound quite so awkward, and you quickly tried to add something to make it seem less so. “I mean like you, I figured Steven would do the food shopping more. I mean, no offence or anything.” 

Marc said nothing as you rambled, just rose an eyebrow like he always did when slightly bemused. “Was my turn. Your right, though, this isn’t my usual scene.” 

“Yeah, I remember.” The simple phrase felt heavy, a reminder of the love you once had together. And just like that, it all came flooding back; every touch, every kiss, every movie you’d watched together or walk you’d been on. But so did every argument, every cold shoulder, every reason you’d broken up in the first place. 

You remembered all too well the sound of the door slamming, the heat of the room after an argument, the flat feeling huge whilst you felt tiny, alone. But you also remembered the feeling of his soft kisses up your arm, the glide of his huge hands along your skin, the husky tone of his voice whispering apologies as your back hit the mattress.

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. As if your heart had remembered it’s purpose, had woken up again.

Marc coughed slightly as if to break you from your train of thought. You startled, rubbing the spot on the side of your face to regain a sense of reality. “Anyway…” You began, looking everywhere but at him, “How’s everything?” He knew what you meant by that. How were the others who had a piece of you?

Marc hesitated. You knew why, could almost see the inner conversation they were surely having. You could only imagine what Steven was saying, the worry and desperation in his voice. Or Jake. You wondered if he was still angry. And not just at you.

Marc seemed to break away, remerging into the conversation with a simple, “Good.” When he realised you expected more, he continued, “Steven, he got promoted. Hasn’t stopped talking about it.” You wondered if the last sentence was directed to his alter, and you couldn’t help but smile.

That’s incredible, I knew he would, I’m so proud of him, is what you wanted to say, but you settled with, “That’s great news.” Marc nodded, and you knew he felt the same. “And Jake?” Another moment of silence followed, shorter this time, as he replied,

“He’s alive. Picked up some shifts in a bar now he has more time off.” They felt so far from you. The growing absence you felt in your chest as you realised they had been living their lives just as you had, without each other.

“That sounds right up his alley,” You cringed at your words. You felt like an acquaintance or a colleague, like you should ask about the weather or ask what aisle the shampoo was down.

“Yeah.” You looked at him. Not just a glance, but a real look. At his curls. At the scar just above his eyebrow. At his lips.

“And you?” And he looked back. Shrugged slightly after a moment of hesitation, as if he had not anticipated you asking about him. As if he never expected to hear those words again.

“I’m surviving.” You waited a minute. But he said nothing more.

You remembered all too well the sound of the door slamming, the heat of the room after an argument, the flat feeling huge whilst you felt tiny, alone. But you also remembered the feeling of his soft kisses up your arm, the glide of his huge hands along your skin, the husky tone of his voice whispering apologies as your back hit the mattress.

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. As if your heart had remembered it’s purpose, had woken up again.

Marc coughed slightly as if to break you from your train of thought. You startled, rubbing the spot on the side of your face to regain a sense of reality. “Anyway…” You began, looking everywhere but at him, “How’s everything?” He knew what you meant by that. How were the others who had a piece of you?

Marc hesitated. You knew why, could almost see the inner conversation they were surely having. You could only imagine what Steven was saying, the worry and desperation in his voice. Or Jake. You wondered if he was still angry. And not just at you.

Marc seemed to break away, remerging into the conversation with a simple, “Good.” When he realised you expected more, he continued, “Steven, he got promoted. Hasn’t stopped talking about it.” You wondered if the last sentence was directed to his alter, and you couldn’t help but smile.

That’s incredible, I knew he would, I’m so proud of him, is what you wanted to say, but you settled with, “That’s great news.” Marc nodded, and you knew he felt the same. “And Jake?” Another moment of silence followed, shorter this time, as he replied,

“He’s alive. Picked up some shifts in a bar now he has more time off.” They felt so far from you. The growing absence you felt in your chest as you realised they had been living their lives just as you had, without each other.

“That sounds right up his alley,” You cringed at your words. You felt like an acquaintance or a colleague, like you should ask about the weather or ask what aisle the shampoo was down.

“Yeah.” You looked at him. Not just a glance, but a real look. At his curls. At the scar just above his eyebrow. At his lips.

“And you?” And he looked back. Shrugged slightly after a moment of hesitation, as if he had not anticipated you asking about him. As if he never expected to hear those words again.

“I’m surviving.” You waited a minute. But he said nothing more. You muttered a small ‘good’, though you didn’t mean it. You almost wanted something worse. Something that showed he was struggling as much as you were. “How’s everything for you?”

Sometimes you wake up in cold sweats and reach out for them. Sometimes, when you’ve had a bit too much to drink, your thumb hovers over their contact purely by muscle memory. Sometimes, when your feeling particularly desperate, you call out to Konshu, as if he could turn back the time to when you were happy, to when were with them and the other side of your bed wasn’t empty and cold.

“ ‘m surviving, too.” He nodded as if he believed you and you were worried he did.

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. You wanted to leave but you knew that if you did, you might never see him again. What if this moment was your forever? Stuck in aisle 5, avoiding eye contact, rocking slightly on your feet? The thought terrified you. To avoid the thoughts, and the next minute that approached, you began to ask another meaningless question. Marc obviously had the same idea, both of you saying a word, then retracting it.

“You go,” You said, heart skipping a beat.

“No, no, you first.”

“It’s fine-”

“Hey, I insist.” His tone always made your stomach flutter.

“Was nothing important, just… wondered what you were buying.” You wondered if he wanted it to be something more by the way his face slightly dropped.

“Right. Steven wanted to start baking, so had to get some of that shit. And we’re out of… well, everything, so had to get that too.” You smiled, eyebrows rising as you repeated,

“Baking?”

“God don’t ask. He’s been tryin’ new stuff lately. I bet he’ll drop this by next week and move onto the next thing.” You chuckled, and so did he.

“At least you get something out of his hobby.”

“Yeah, probably homeless. You remember when he insisted on making banana bread and nearly burnt the whole fuckin’ flat down?”

“How could I ever forget?” The laugh you shared felt familiar, but distant, like a dream. You relished in it for a moment, a happiness you didn’t expect to ever feel again. When it died down, you were left with a new, comfortable silence, one that lingered as you met eyes once again. “So, what were you going to say?”

Marc shrugged, “Was gonna ask how the project was goin’.” Your heart warmed. You remembered, you wanted to say, you remembered what I was working on. You felt your lips pull into a natural smile, felt your eyes widen slightly.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s good, nearly done now, just adding the finishing touches. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be done with it, but looks like there’s an end in sight now which is, yeah, a relief.” You rambled, distracting from the soft look on his face by taking an interest in the label of a jar.

“Well, you’ve worked so hard on it, can’t imagine it’ll be anythin’ less than perfect when you’re done.”

“Thank you, Marc.” His name. You hadn’t said it aloud, you realised, in a long time. It felt so natural coming from your lips, as if the word was made just for you. By the look on Marc’s face, he was just as struck by this revelation.

It belongs to you, he wanted to say, I belong to you.

But he didn’t. No, he couldn’t. Not anymore. Not ever again.

He needed to leave. “Anyway… I should really get going,” he started, and your face fell slightly. His heart throbbed.

“Right! Yeah, no, so should I. It was-” what do you even say? “It was nice seeing you.”

“Back at you.” You felt a sting at the sudden shift in tone, the blatant end to the conversation, a stop to whatever memories were re-emerging.

Will I see you again? You have my number, you could call me, you know. Could get some coffee? Oat milk, of course. I miss you. I miss all of you. I don’t wanna be like this. I hate not knowing you. I hate being a stranger to you. Can we see each other again? Please?

Is what you wanted, needed, to say. But instead, you settled on, “Goodbye, Marc.”

Don’t leave. I’m sorry about what happened, we all are- fuck what if this is it? Can’t lose you, not again. Please.

“Goodbye.”

And then, you were turning. Trying to recount the next item on your list. Trying to forget them all over again. Marc watched, ignoring what his alters were saying. Right, flour, sugar…

You couldn’t help but turn back before you reached the till. His features had returned to their usual state, the usual stance that showed you the Marc the world got too see. And now, you were them. You were the stranger, watching him like the next person would, remembering every moment, the good and the bad, simultaneously, eternally.

He must have felt your gaze again, for he turned. You smiled. He smiled back. You stayed. Endorsed in each other for what felt like the last time. Analysing every crevice of his face with your eyes, and he seemed to be doing the same back.

And then you were pulled back into reality by the person at the till handing you your receipt. You jolted, thanking them quickly, and gathering your bags.

Marc was still watching as you made your way to the door. You stole a final glance, trying to remember everything surrounding you; the sound of the bell, the click of the till, aisle 5, the lady trying to bribe her kid with sweets to get them to stop crying. You wanted to remember it all just in case this was it. This was all you had left of him. This moment. 

A last smile. It felt finite.

You took a mental picture of his face before you turned away, heart as heavy as the bags in your hand.

And then you were leaving.

so i got a request agessss ago for a break-up fic with marc which ends in angst and, whilst i haven’t written it yet still (super sorry) , maybe that could be a little prequel to this? we’ll see :)

[hischierswhore]

FOR THE BETTER | chapter 3

✰ warnings: none!

✰ nat’s note: i know this lowkey sucks, but IN MY DEFENSE, i was sick. anyways the rest of this story will be continued through insta au’s so keep an eye out for those!!!!!

The morning after the gala, you woke up to a few notifications from Instagram. One in particular stood out to you, it being a message request from Dawson Mercer. Quickly accepting the request to see what he had said, you noticed almost immediately that his text was in regards to none other than Nico. 

“Hey Y/n. It’s Dawson, we met last night at the gala. I was told to ask because a certain someone noticed how well we clicked, but Nico wanted to know if he could have your number?”

Of course. Of-fucking-course. Of course the man who had taken up your entire headspace within only minutes of meeting him was asking for your number. 

“Hey! Yeah sure, go ahead!” Your reply was just a tad bit panicked, knowing your answer but not entirely sure how to come across as calm and collected. You hit send and set your phone back down, grabbing one of your pillows and covering your face in it. 

Moments passed as you screamed into your pillow when you suddenly heard a “ding!” come from your phone. Your anxiety peaked at the exact moment the device pinged. You were scared to turn it over. 

“Get a grip, Y/n” You mentally told yourself before you reached your shaking arm over to grab your phone. 

“Hey Y/n. It’s Nico. Wanted to see if you wanted to maybe hang out today. We didn’t get to talk much last night and I wanted to get to know you” 

Now this time you had a real reason to scream into your pillow. You let out the most blood-curling scream ever, causing both Jack & Luke to rush into your room. 

“What’s going on?” Your brothers let out, trying to catch their breaths from running across the apartment. 

“Oh nothing. I just got asked on a date, no big deal” You shrugged

“You WHAT?!” Jack let out, immediately losing any last ounce of sleep he had left in him. 

“Congrats Y/n/n! I’m proud” Luke smiled as he gave you a hug.

“Luke, you aren’t going to ask who it is??? You’re just going to let her be free like that????” Jack was completely astounded by Luke’s lack of care to the situation at hand.

 “Well no, she’s grown and I think she can make smart decisions for herself and pick a decent guy” Luke shrugged. 

“Okay well, you’re not nearly as nosey as I am. Give me a name, Y/n. Pleaseeeeeeeee!” Jack pleaded with you, desperate to know the details of your newly updated love life. You battled with the decision of whether or not to tell them the truth, that it was their captain. Eventually, the internal battle ended and you just told them straight up. 

“Ehm… don’t be mad but it’s Nico…” You looked down, afraid to see their reactions. It was silent for a few moments, you just knew they were gesturing to each other about your choice. After about a minute, you lifted your head and cracked your eye open, afraid to make eye contact with either of them. You unfortunately made eye contact with Jack, and he was just staring at you with his mouth agape. 

“Didn’t see that one coming, but I think you guys would be cute together” Luke softly spoke, being as gentle as possible before Jack could say how he felt. 

“I’m not completely opposed, but if he so much as hurts you, I will literally end him. I’m just afraid of you getting with someone again, especially after how the last one ended…” Jack trailed off, his emotions truly showing. 

“Well, I’m not going to rush into anything. I barely know the guy, we spoke like - max 5 words or something last night. I’m not desperate. And the last one ended because he was a cheating asshole. I'll be fine, Jack, I promise. If anything happens, you guys will be the first to know" You reassured him, knowing how your last relationship with one of his best friends deeply affected him.

✰ taglist ✰

@lovelynikol16 @ashloveshockey @slafgoalskybaby

[lemontines-writing-corner]

wally darling x reader modern au series

PART 1

authors note: wally darling belongs to @/partycoffin, please support their work !

>BACK

>NEXT

🌀 Salutations Neighbor pt. 1 🌀

A loud soft thump can make a cat go alert once they’re awake. Except for you, too busy asleep without a care in the world, assuming you were the only person in your apartment.

The blue pompadour puppet sat up and dusted himself, as he looked around your living room. “Such dull colors. Less brighter than my world.”, he stood up and tried to regain balance. Ever since he practiced how to use the spiral from his TV, he managed to create his own website to connect with million other people.

He’s seen many faces, but most of them click off once they leave the guest book. Quiet sad for the puppet, he wanted to make new friends, ever since the show was forgotten it isn’t the same without people watching him and his friends.

Once he was able to regain balance and walk properly, he explored your kitchen. Unfortunately Wally wasn’t able to get up from the countertop to look through your cabinets so he decided to go to the mini dining room table to get up from the chair .

There he saw a bowl of fruit. Not just fruits, apples of course. Let’s just say his eyes dilated like a cat as he stared at the fruit bowl for the past 5 minutes.

“Oh right! I’m supposed to find neighbor.”, Wally said to himself in a monotone normal voice as he shakes his head and went to the hallway to see a door cracked open. He walked inside to see your sleeping figure, you looked like a worm when you wrapped yourself in a blanket. All comfortable and in a deep sleep, although Wally had other plans of course.

He got up to your bed and poked your nose as he stared at you like a cat, “neiiighbor…neighhhbor. Wake up”, you turned away from the poking thinking it was the air.

What caused you to wake up was when he decided to sit down on your chest area and legs straddled on your sides as he did his dilated eye stare, he smiled at you, happy that you’re awake.

However your reaction said otherwise as you lets out a scream and sat up out of fear, which caused the poor puppet to flung out across the bed, having a rough landing on the floor. Luckily he can’t feel that at all, as he laid there limp and confused, but more worried. “Neighbor? Are you alright?”, he stood up and went to the left side of your bed.

“STAY AWAY!”, you shouted and backed up, confused and more over scared that a puppet…a puppet is talking to you. Wally felt hurt and tried to calm the situation down, “neighbor, that’s not very nice”, he tilted his head in confusion, as he did his iconic half lidded expression as he frowned.

You rubbed your face and blinked at least three times, “…please tell me I’m not dreaming….”, you muttered as you put your face against your pillow. First a busy day at work, sleeping peacefully, now another chaotic situation.

“Well neighbor, clearly you aren’t”, he poked your hand, his hand felt fuzzy and plush like. He can’t harm you? Right? You should feel scared or at least burn him with gasoline and matches, but all you felt was questions running from your head.

“Why are you here? How did you get here? Are you going to harm me? Are you the only living puppet here?”, you overwhelmed Wally with so many questions as his eyes widened, “calm down neighbor, I know you must feel overwhelmed. How about we start with introducing each-other?”, Wally smiled and his half lidded eyes went back as he tilted his head.

“I am genuinely excited to meet you, I’ve always had a interest in you humans”, he sat next to you and stared at you. Silence was in the air and you started to think to yourself, “should I trust this puppet?”.

So sorry for the short chapter ! Part two will come out soon. As a thank you for reaching till the end take another concept art of you and Wally !

[lefaystrent]

Me, Myself, and These Guys Who Kinda Look Like Me Ch. 5

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Thomas/The Sides

Summary: It starts with dreams. Then Thomas starts seeing the dream people in the waking world.

Thomas doesn't know how to bring it up to anybody or if he even should at this point.

AKA, Thomas has to acknowledge the six colorful characters in the room, much to their long-awaited delight.

Ao3 Link: click here

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

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

Patton, as it turns out, cannot cook. At all.

To be fair, none of them ever had the chance to gain prior experience. The singular two times the others did cook, it had been oatmeal and ramen. Not exactly complex meals.

They appeared to be relatively competent adults though. They had been observing Thomas for years and should be aware of the basics of cooking.

Oh. That's where things went wrong, didn't it? They had been watching Thomas. Not Gordon Ramsey. Thomas Sanders.

Thomas knows how to scramble eggs at least. The thing in Patton's pan right now? Not eggs.

"I just went to the bathroom for like a minute," Thomas says in that way that clearly means, "what the fuck happened?"

"Everything is fine," Patton claims over the smoking pan. "Question though, do you like your eggs extra crispy, or...?"

Thomas would just like to have a skillet after this.

The pan chooses that moment to inexplicably catch on fire. Which shouldn't be possible, but so were plenty of other things that Thomas has experienced in his life lately. Why not this too?

Thomas screams. Patton starts screaming too. Then Patton, in his hurried desperation to right the situation, goes to grab the pan not by the handle like a sane person but where the fire is. With his bare hands. Thomas knows they just had a conversation about how they couldn't truly feel pain, but that doesn't stop the spike of panic as he watches the disaster in slow motion.

Between one blink to another, Virgil appears. He doesn't rise up like Roman demonstrated yesterday. He bamfs in right beside Patton, snapping at him to stand back. Startled, Patton dodges back as Virgil takes control. He pulls the sleeve of his hoodie down over the handle to act as an unconventional potholder, and he rushes the pan to the sink. More smoke billows from the water splashing against the hot pan and the fowl smell of burnt eggs permeates the air.

"What were you trying to do?!" Virgil screeches, and Thomas senses that it's a rhetorical question meant to just make them reevaluate their life choices up to this point, but Patton answers anyway.

"My best!"

Virgil curses and ensures that all of the fire is extinguished before sagging where he stands. He leaves the tap on, either just in case or too tired to shut it off. Patton tiptoes up to him and tugs sheepishly at his shoulder.

"Kiddo? I'm sorry."

"Don't do that," Virgil growls. He holds himself up over the sink, hands braced on either side. "Way to scare the living daylights outta me."

"It's probably more my fault," Thomas cringes. "I left him without supervision."

"Aw, Thomas! Now just because you needed a potty break does not mean it's your fault! We're all adults here."

"Adults don't say 'potty' to each other," Virgil groans. He reaches over the sink and cracks open the window to let out the influx of smoke. "And do you realize how close you were to burning Thomas's apartment down?"

"Well, it was just the eggs–" Thomas tries to alleviate the tension, but Virgil whirls on him.

"It doesn't matter! What would you guys have done if I hadn't showed up when I did? Would you have just stood there screaming? Would you have grabbed the pan and knocked it over and then the fire caught onto something? You have to be more careful!"

Thomas and Patton shuffle guiltily. They could have handled the situation better, in hindsight. No excuses really. Thomas can envision that happening, the two of them freaking out so hard that they create an even bigger danger mess. What would Thomas have done if flames really did spread? Hurt himself trying to put it out like Patton had almost done? Run screaming and forget to call emergency services? They were lucky that Virgil stepped in, and it sounded like they had really scared him.

"Thank you, Virgil," Thomas says. "For coming when you did."

"Yeah, Virge, that was good timing."

"Did you know?" Thomas asks. Could they sense things from in their rooms? Like, could Virgil see what they were up to and came running?

Virgil scowls and crosses his arms around himself. "No? I guess my spidey sense told me that you guys were doing something stupid. Thought I'd check in. You're just lucky I was here."

"Yeah, you're right. Thank you," Thomas expresses again, and he puts effort into showing his gratitude with his eyes.

Thomas isn't sure, but Virgil's eyes might have gone a little glassy at that. Before he can confirm, Virgil spins around and shuts off the sink. "No need to thank me. Your pan's probably ruined anyway. And if you're hungry, I'll make you some more oatmeal. No one touch anything. Please."

Thomas politely requests toast to go with it because he craves carbs, and Virgil gives a long-suffering sigh and shoos them out of the kitchen.

"Do you think he's mad at us?" Thomas asks Patton when they're in the living room. He keeps his voice hushed. "What am I saying, of course he's mad."

"I think he's just worried. That's his way of showing he cares."

"I can't believe you guys tried to set the house on fire without me."

They both squawk and Patton falls over onto the couch at Remus's sudden appearance behind them. A smile curls up Remus's lips, his mustache twitching left and right, and his eyes narrow in glee. Virgil looks up sharply at the disturbance, notes Remus has joined them, and dismisses it with an eye roll. He continues bustling around the kitchen.

"We wouldn't do that to Thomas's home! ...on purpose."

"Lame. Next time, instead of cooking oil you should try kerosene."

Thomas, a man who loves to eat raw cookie dough, knows his limits. "That is not edible."

"No it's edible, just not advisable."

And there's Logan rising up. Thomas embraces the fact that his house will never be empty anymore. He crawls onto the couch beside Patton. If that puts Patton between him and the others, well that's just a bonus. He gives in to the urge to hide and rests his head on Patton's shoulder, more or less curling up into a ball against his side.

Remus bounces his hip against Logan to make him stagger. "Some people used to think lobotomy was advisable. Depends on who's doing the advising, don'tchya think?"

"Let me rephrase then, kerosene contains hydrocarbons which, were it to be consumed, could result in impaired breathing and eyesight, as well as internal burns, rapidly declining blood pressure, convulsions, coma-"

"Were you saying something, Nerdy Wolverine? All I'm hearing is blah blah blah."

It's entertaining to see how similar Remus interacts with Logan as Logan does with Roman. It's the flair for the dramatic and sass clashing with Logan's tendency towards the literal and common sense.

"Do you think they'd notice if we left?" Thomas whispers to Patton jokingly. When the other doesn't respond, Thomas looks at him.

Patton sits incredibly taut. His fingers bunch up in the material of his khaki pants. His eyes are glazed and out of focus, staring ahead and seeing nothing. Thomas doesn't think that he's breathing. Do they need to breathe?

Oh. Thomas should have asked first before invading his personal space.

"Sorry," Thomas says softly and scoots away, putting distance between them.

"Hm?" Patton hums absently. He blinks like he's coming back online and his head lolls around to Thomas. "What did you say?"

Thomas shakes his head quickly and hurries to busy himself with his phone. "Nothing, don't worry about it."

Patton doesn't quite frown, but he's pensive and pondering. Thankfully, he doesn't push and lets the awkwardness go.

Thomas berates himself internally. Why did he do that without asking first? Or just sit on the other end of the couch? He had been caught up in the emotions that they had shared earlier. This thing between all of them, this developing two-way friendship, is only just budding. He has to give it time for everyone's sake and not get ahead of himself.

If he's honest, his own needs are to blame. He could really use a hug. He's been cooped up in his apartment for days and he misses interacting with people. Like...normal people? Gosh, is that a rude thing to think about? He likes these people, he does... He just wants an unconditional display of affection with no weird strings attached.

Is it a good or bad thing that he doesn't have a boyfriend right now? He can't fathom how that would go. Who would want to stay with a person who is constantly haunted by dream people? Wait, wait, that raises the excellent question of what will Thomas eventually do when he does meet someone and gets back into dating? Is this– is this for the rest of his life?

Thomas can't pretend his attention is focused on his phone. It's not and the screen is black from disuse.

He didn't mean to face his impending fears this early in the morning.

Compartmentalize. He needs to do what Logan taught him yesterday. He needs to put these worries in a box, lock it up tight, and push it into the background. He's still recovering, and he hasn't learned everything about them yet. Let him deal with this when he has the energy and all of the facts.

Down the couch, he doesn't notice that Patton watches him with a pained expression.

***

After breakfast, Thomas evades the others by engaging his worst enemy.

Chores.

His hamper overflows from fire fits of days past. He tosses them in the washer, guesstimates how much detergent to pour in, and then starts the wash. He sets a timer on his phone on the off chance he remembers to obey the alarm and switch the load.

He stares at his bed in its sweat-stained sheety glory. It would take him all day along with his clothes.

No, Thomas, you will not be a gremlin. You're feeling better now, toughen up.

The gremlin part of his brain claws for a compromise. He has spare sheets. He can replace them now and wash the dirty ones tomorrow.

Changing them is easier said than done. The dirty ones come off swift, but the clean ones? Why does it take all the muscles in your body just to get a fitted sheet on a mattress? And by the time you've got wrangled the rest of the blankets and pillow cases? Phew, what a work out.

Thomas lays exhausted on the freshly made bed. He used to work out sort of, you know, before he got sick. Now he's a shadow of his former self. He shouldn't be this out of breath and wanting a nap. How weak, pathetic. A tiny whiny man.

...right, he's still sick.

He heaves himself up and tosses back some more ibuprofen. The fever hasn't returned exactly, or if it has it's relatively low. His joints protest like the old man he is, and there are other mild aches. If he pushes himself too fast, too soon, he'll just end up miserable. And he'll do anything to avoid that wretched migraine from coming back.

He lays back on the bed again, sideways across it with his legs hanging off. He basks in the comfiness. The others didn't follow him up or ask questions, for which he is glad. He doesn't want them looking at him like lost puppies whenever he leaves the room.

He stares at the popcorn ceiling and makes out shapes as if they are clouds.

He's going to have to change a lot of his routine, once he gets in the swing of it again. Maybe establish some boundaries? Even if they promise to respect his privacy, he isn't sure he'll ever be able to sleep naked again. Which sucks because that's his preferred method of pajamas. Clothes are terribly confining.

And what will he tell his family? His friends? He doesn't know if he can keep this a secret. He's incredibly inept at lying to those who know him. He gets too skittish, too overcompensating. It's laughable. They've already been worried enough about him these past couple of weeks, and that's just when he thought he was going insane. They'd see through any farce.

He can just never leave his apartment ever again. Is that an option? No one will ever suspect.

Actually, would anyone be able to see them anyway? If he walked outside his house, could his neighbors see them strolling along in the parking lot? And if they were now visible to everyone, would this bring like, government attention to him? What if authorities start questioning why these six guys who live with him don't have birth certificates or social security numbers?

Thomas daydreams city officials stopping by his house wielding warrants. "Sir, you're under arrest for harboring illegal dream people." And then he'd have a criminal record, and all his loved ones discover his dirty secret anyway. Awesome. Fantastic.

"Do you ever feel....like a plastic bag," Thomas sings quietly to himself. He sighs and rolls over onto his side.

Roman is reclined on the bed beside him. It's interesting, because it doesn't scare him right out of his pants (ha, Nightmare Before Christmas referrence). He's getting too used to them randomly popping up now. Man, he's really gotta have the boundaries talk sooner than later, doesn't he?

But it's not so bad. Roman lays there flat on his back, gazing up at the ceiling as Thomas had been. He wonders if Roman is mapping out pictures too, creating life where there once was none.

"I always loved to hear you sing," Roman confides. His arm floats in the air, hand dancing to an unknown tempo. "And perform. I used to memorize the lines right alongside you. I sang like I was a part of the show and not just an onlooker. I would pretend..."

His face is open and lost in memories. Thomas forgets his worries for the moment. The poignant tone of Roman's words, the underlying passion, it's entrancing in its tragedy.

Like Thomas's problems can ever compare to theirs.

"What would you pretend?" Thomas asks, hushed and gentle and not wanting to break the atmosphere.

The barest bit of pink tints Roman's cheeks. His lips quirk up as he glances at him from the corner of his eye. "I used to pretend I was you. Someone I respected and admired more than anything."

Thomas resists the urge to cover his face in a fit of bashfulness. It's not like he often has pretty guys in his bed waxing poetically about him. And here he has a literal Prince Charming who has been his unknowing personal backup singer for years.

Roman's smile morphs into a wince. He flops his arm down onto the bed. "My apologies, Thomas. I can't imagine how daunting this situation is for you. If you should need anything, even if it's for us to give you space, you have but to ask. I don't wish for us to burden you."

"You're not a burden," Thomas replies automatically, stubbornly.

Aren't they though? the ugly voice in the back of his mind says. He viciously beats it down and shoves it in his mental basement. He won't be that kind of person.

Roman turns his head to look at him, eyebrow raised. "Just earlier we set a fire. This is only the second day since achieving corporealness."

"In all fairness, it wasn't that bad. And Virgil was there to put it out. So it balanced out."

"Yeah, Virgil's good like that," Roman muses. He's scanning Thomas's face, searching for something. It reminds him of the subdued way he looked at the others last night, after he offered to carry Thomas to bed. The bit of cautious wonder. Of tender hope.

Thomas thrums a cadence with his fingers into the bed sheets. "I talked to Patton this morning..."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Thomas nods. Well, as much as a person can nod while laying on their side. "Yeah. We kinda...talked about the situation, more or less. I told him I want to help you guys."

Roman is nothing short of stunned. Flabbergasted. Gut-punched.

They can't think that poorly of him, can they? To think it's that out of character for him? Roman just said he admires him. Thomas clings onto that.

"You do?" Roman squeaks out, and Thomas hates how bemused he sounds.

"Yeah, what I can I mean," he pours sincerity into his words. "I don't know how much a guy like me can do, but I'd like to try. I'm not going to kid myself and say this will be a walk in the park, but I'm sure we can all figure out something together. And... uh, if you want. I don't know if you'd be interested, but I'd love to sing with you sometime. If you want, I mean. Your voice, I mean, it's good. Really good. But only if you want, of course."

As he fumbles his speech, Thomas reminds himself repeatedly that Roman just expressed an interest in doing as much, and no this is not being too presumptuous.

Roman springs up, bolt upright. There's a feral, hungry glee that shakes him and he nearly squeals out, "Really?! Really really?!"

"Really really," Thomas promises, smiling up at him. The excitement is infectious and Roman launches into a whole tirade of song choices.

"We could do Hamilton! Or Disney! I'll make a man out of you! It's the boppiest bop to ever bop! Or no wait, a ballad! We could do a ballad! A piano cover of something. Better yet, we can write our own song! Thomas! Thomas, I have so many ideas, you have no idea!"

Thomas has awoken his inner child. It's Christmas and Fourth of July clashing in showers of sparks. There are stars in Roman's eyes, and he holds his fists up, knuckles covering a wild grin. He's bouncing in place on the bed and it's the cutest thing Thomas has ever seen.

"I'd like to hear them," Thomas says.

Roman needs no more prompting. He stretches out on the bed again, laying on his stomach. He kicks his feet up behind him whimsically while he gushes and makes callbacks to Thomas's past videos and expands off of those. He's talking a mile-a-minute and Thomas hardly needs to contribute. Nor does he want to. He wouldn't dream of interrupting.

This bit of his morning is not a chore. It's a privilege.

***

Lunch time rolls around. They only become aware of this in the midst of their brainstorming session because Remus throws open the door.

The closet door.

"Did someone order a pizza?!" he screeches loud enough to make ears bleed.

Roman's reaction is to grab the nearest object (a pillow) and catapult it at the intruder. Remus karate chops is out of the air.

"Have you ever heard of knocking!" Roman bellows. "Me and Thomas are having an important discussion that doesn't involve you!"

"You've been hogging him since yesterday! It's my turn to ride on Thomas the Dank Engine!"

"I haven't been hogging him!"

"Little piggy say what?"

"I haven't been hogging him! Just because you're jealous–"

"Oink oink oink! Here a pig, there a pig, everywhere a pig pig!"

"Why are you so insufferably juvenile?!"

"Uh, bitch, why do you have a stick up your ass? And not the good kind!"

"Fellas," Thomas says most agreeably, sitting up and clasping his hands in his lap. "I think we need to take a deep breath."

They both cut themselves off mid-insults. They glance at him, and yes it's clear that even though Thomas was the subject they were fighting over, they had forgotten he was there or that he can now witness their spats.

And gosh, isn't that bizarre? They're fighting over him.

Roman crosses his arms and sulks, appearing contrite. Remus puts his hands behind his back and whistles in a poor imitation of innocence.

These two might be worse together than Logan with either of them. That's just impressive.

Thomas clears his throat and embodies his best mediator persona. "Now Remus, was there a reason you came in here? You said something about pizza?"

Roman mutters, "He was making a stupid porn joke."

"You're stupid," Remus snipes back. Before Roman can sputter out a defense, Remus bounds over and snatches up Thomas's hands in his. "There's food downstairs ready for you. The nerd said it's important for you to eat to keep your energy up or whatever. I suggested you should just eat batteries, but nobody ever listens to me."

"I wonder why," Roman growls, but Thomas is already being dragged out of his room. Remus keeps an iron grip on his fingers and pulls him along.

There's an erratic edge to Remus's words while he babbles to Thomas. It's mostly nonsensical ideas, like a stream of consciousness gone straight to brain rot. It's peculiar as it is demanding of attention. A train crash he can't look away from.

As they descend the stairs, Thomas stares at their joined hands. He considers Remus's words from before. How much do the others really listen to him? Or to each other in general? What hidden dynamics are at play here?

The others are all waiting for them below minus Bowler Hat. The table is set for one, and it's actually not pizza. It's pan-seared porkchops with broccoli and mashed potatoes. His nostrils flair as the smell wafts over him. His stomach rumbles appreciatively.

"You guys didn't have to do all this," Thomas protests. He lets Remus steer him to the chair and plop him down. He keeps his hands on his shoulders. "I know I've been sick, but I can make my own food now."

Virgil gestures to the murdered pan in the sink. "Let's just say for all our sakes, we don't mind."

"Yes, it's no issue," Logan chips in. "We are more than capable of providing you with assistance. It is no trouble, I assure you."

"I set the table," Patton says with a tiny smile. "No more stove privileges for silly ole me!"

Roman indulges him with a clap on the back. "You did well, Padre. And everyone else! This is a meal fit for a king!"

Virgil scoffs, "It's just meat and veggies. It's not a big deal."

"I forgot I had porkchops," Thomas admits. "When did you guys even take them out to thaw? I didn't notice."

Logan refastens his tie, a little smug, "Last night. I theorized that by today your illness would abate enough to allow you to eat a proper meal."

"Well, I don't know what else to say but thank you." Would this become a thing? Should he let it be a thing? Would it be such a bad thing if he did? They could cook him food if it made them feel useful, and then he could avoid cooking and get to eat it all. Just himself, never sharing.

No, that just– that would be like having servants and would be a weird power hierarchy, and he's just not going to go that route. He's a big boy, he can cook his own dinners.

He picks up his fork to tuck into dinner.

"Are you going to hover over him for the entirety of the meal, Donny Whacko?"

Remus's hands are still clamped on Thomas's shoulders, and he remains standing right behind him. Thomas pauses with his fork in the air. He didn't realize when Remus had grown eerily quiet, but the chattering had indeed stopped, and he grips tighter at Thomas's shoulders.

"Remus?" Patton says, as gentle as a person encroaching on a wild animal that they just want to help. "You gotta let go, buddy."

At once the hands are gone from his shoulders. Then they return on the sides of Thomas's head, spindly fingers holding him in place while Remus delivers a loud smooch to the top of his scalp. Every hair on Thomas's body stands on end.

"Remus!!" literally everyone screams.

"What, like you all haven't been thinking about it too," Remus replies in his reedy voice. "I can't help that you're all horribly repressed."

Furious and flustered, Roman rolls up his sleeves as if he's going to remove Remus by force, but then he suddenly back pedals. His eyes shift from Remus to...something else.

"I do so enjoy you making my job harder," a voice that is certainly not Remus's comes from behind Thomas.

Thomas turns. His peripheral catches a minor struggle of limbs, a flash of yellow, and then nothing. No one stands behind him.

"Why does he have to be so dramatic?" Virgil groans rhetorically.

Logan answers him literally, "He does not have to, it is simply a life choice."

Thomas looks back at them. "Did Remus just get kidnapped?"

Patton attempts to smile through a grimace, "I think it's more like he was given a time-out."

"Was that Bowler Hat?"

"Yeah, he does that sometimes with Remus. Nothing to worry about, kiddo."

Thomas very much worries about it. They can't tell him not to worry about it after that. After Remus kissed him and got sent to baby jail for it. Thomas can't react to the implications of the sign of affection, that in particular is a bit too much right now, but he does race car drift into indignation. Regardless of Remus being overtly clingy, Thomas doesn't think he deserved to be dragged away like that.

HIs reaction is because Remus had just voiced how no one listens to what he says. And the way that his hands didn't want to let go of Thomas. A burgeoning sense of protection has him sitting down his fork.

"I... I think I would have rather talked about it," Thomas tells them. He surprises them, he knows he does. And maybe that's his fault with how readily he's shown to want to avoid the issue so far.

Logan is the first to act. He smooths down the front of his shirt and sits in front of him at the table. "If you would like to discuss, we can."

"No," Thomas shakes his head, tone firm. "I want to talk to you guys. All of you. An important part of handling things is communication, right? And the longer I wait to do this, the more we might misunderstand each other, and I don't want that to happen. I want us all to be comfortable. Not just me, but all of you guys too."

Patton takes a step forward, falters, then presses his index fingers together. "When you say all of us..."

Thomas's eyes narrow. "I mean all six of you. Would that be a problem?"

Patton throws up his hands and waves them around in distress. "No, no! Not at all! That's not what I meant." He too takes a seat. He leans over the table, trying to convey in his expression sincerity. "I'm sorry, it's just that, well we'd like to talk to you. We just don't want to overwhelm you all at once."

"And Bowler Hat, as you call him, may decline to come to the discussion table," Virgil points out.

"Why would he?" Thomas asks. "I just talked to him last night."

"You did?" Virgil spits out, eyes critically assessing. When he sees that Thomas does nothing more than raise a brow, he rolls his shoulders and puts on an unaffected air. "Okay, cool. That's cool. So you weren't...scared?"

"No? Why would I be?" Thomas asks.

No one answers.

Thomas looks from face to face. They're hiding secrets. Every one of them.

"Why would I be?" he says again, more soft in trepidation.

Logan's brows are furrowed. He taps a finger against his chin. "Thomas... did you notice anything...odd regarding his appearance?"

"You mean other than the caplet and gloves?"

"Yes, actually. What else?"

Thomas searches for an answer amongst then. Roman stares holes into Patton who squirms in his seat.

"What am I not getting?" Thomas questions Patton.

And there's the same guilty look in his eyes like this morning at the failed breakfast. "Thomas, how much did you see of him? Was it dark? Did you see him fully I mean? Or remember when you first saw us?"

Not that he noticed. Nothing that–

Hadn't Bowler Hat purposefully avoided him? He had been turned away, looking out the window. And he scurried away to the kitchen with Virgil first thing. And he didn't show back up until it was dark in his room.

"Is he...is he different?" Thomas asks them, borderline scared now. "Is he not the same thing you guys are?"

"Yes and no," Logan answers, too collected, too calculating his words. "He is similar to us in most areas in terms of our attachment to you and the state of our metaphysical beings. The largest difference is in appearance."

"He didn't want," Virgil begins, but trails off when everyone turns to him. He scowls and looks angrily at the floor. "It's not for us to tell. He was just afraid of how you'd react. He can't help the way he looks. He just is."

"The snake's already out of the bag," Roman says, remorseful. "Thomas, it's not that we didn't want to tell you. We just wanted to respect his wishes while giving you time to adjust. But I can see that it's causing you more stress than not. I'm not sure we can manage to convince him to come out, but we can tell you about it. The truth would've had to come out eventually."

He doesn't want them to feel forced to tell him anything.

He also doesn't like them keeping secrets that might affect him and each other.

It's a tousle between being a people pleaser and wanting some modicum of control back over his life.

"I want you guys...to feel like you can talk to me."

"That's all we've ever wanted," Patton whispers.

Thomas closes his eyes. He pushes his plate aside. "Then I think we need to talk."

[artbykays]

I LIED ABOUT DOING SWEETHEART ANGST

Okay so,

At the next pack meeting, everyone is lively. Darlin pulls up on their bike and as they get off, Angel runs over to show off the ring and says “I’m gonna be a Shaw!”

Darlin is confused until they see the ring once they take their helmet off. They look up and see people congratulating David then nods at Angel. “You always had been.” And they walk past Angel to set their helmet down as they over hear Milo talking with Ash, Babe and Sweetheart.

“Yeah. We got the last box unpacked. So we officially have moved in.” Milo holds the stealth close to him with a big smile.

A pang in their chest returns. Yeah they are happy that their pack mates are at these peaks in their lives. They are at ease. But Darlin can’t help but feel a little sad. The feeling of not accomplishing something great like that. They weren’t getting married. They weren’t moving in with Sam to a shared place.

That feeling of being singled out returned. They finally saw how much they missed while they were away. Sure it wasn’t long, but their whole life in the pack was very distanced. And now they payed the price of not finding out about things till the last minute.

Grabbing their helmet, they quickly ran out. The air felt thick. The space felt like it was collapsing in. Darlin hopped on their bike not hearing their Alpha yell out their name to come back, that the meeting started in 5 minutes. They didn’t hear anything except their heart beating what felt like it was running for miles.

They drove off. Not sure where to but just somewhere far. Maybe outside Daliah. They knew a spot. A spot where they yelled their lungs out. A place where no one could hear a lone wolf cry.

But the fates had other plans. As they turned the corner, they turned a little too hard and slid across the road. Landing themselves in a small ditch. Darlin ripped their helmet off and just stared at the sky. It was a clear night. So clear you could see the stars that looked like someone shattered diamonds in the sky.

A laugh. A laugh formed out of their chest. What was so funny? That the speedster werewolf had crashed their bike? The impulsive wolf who hid their feelings just laid out in dirt and leaves? No. It was the fact they let their feelings get the best of them and they could hear their mate as if he was laying right next to them.

“You think you haven’t accomplished anything? You stood up to someone you loved who hurt you. You protected your friends from him. You allowed me into your life when you thought no one could. You returned back to the pack head on.”

“Shut up Sam.” They chuckles and sighed. They knew him so well that they knew he’d be right. Darlin groaned reaching for the phone that kept buzzing in their pocket. Damn it had a crack in the screen… they scrolled for the contact that said David. If they faced him once, they could face him again. He did say if they ever needed help, he’d be there…the pack would be there…

“What the hell? You show up then dip? We talked about this-”

“David…I need help.” Darlin mumbled. “I may have crashed my bike.”

“Are you okay? Where are you-”

“I’m at the border. But can I tell you something?”

“Tank, you’re scaring me.”

“Just listen. I…I cant say in face to face. Im just…I’m happy for you. A-and tell Milo I’m happy for him too.”

“…you dying or what?”

Tank laughed. It felt, nice. “Not yet.”

HAPPY HOLIDAYS Y’ALL😘😘

[juniperhillpatient]

okay unrelated to stranger things I just had to pause cause this dude came in here (hotel front office where I work) freaking out telling me a man was trying to kill a woman outside and I needed to call 911 then…. started cracking up when I got ready to call? apparently he was “testing me” to see how I’d react 🤔 literally what the fuck who does that

[cherrycola27]

Domestic AF

A/N please enjoy this domestic Rooster drabble brought on by a conversation with @marvelsvalhalla who is 100% the Maverick to my Goose

Warnings: Fluff. Partial nudity. Language. Allusions to smut. Minors DNI 18+

The morning light slowly began to peak through your curtains. You stretched your body and wiggled your toes. You turned and tossed an arm out searching for the man that should be occupying the other side of your bed. Feeling nothing but cold sheets you sit up and look for your boyfriend. The shower was off and his clothes were in a neat pile on the dresser. Where could he be?

You went to the closet and threw on one of yours... his t-shirts and pair of biker shorts. "Babe" you called walking down the stairs. You turned the corner to the kitchen and froze in the doorway.

There stood Rooster Bradshaw cooking breakfast in your kitchen. He had his AirPods in listening to who knows what and he flitted about.

You rested in the doorway and gaped at the sight because besides his AirPods the only thing he was wearing was your pink "Kiss the Cook" apron. He was turned facing the stove so his perfectly sculpted ass was on full display for you. You giggled as you watched his hips sway to the song he was listening too which causes the rooster tattooed on his right cheek to move to the beat. You teased him so hard for that tattoo the first time you saw it. His face was as red as a beet when he explained how drunk he was when he got it and how he would never drink tequila again because of it.

You were too busy enjoying the view you didn't realize you hadn't made your presence known until you heard a pan clatter onto the counter snapping you out of your trance. "Jesus babe. You scared the shit out of me." Rooster said taking off some oven mits and putting his AirPods away. "How long have you been standing there?" He asks. You pause taking in the picture before you. Rooster in a pink frilly apron, hands on his hips with a breakfast spread laid out before him you couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled out.

"You mind telling me what the fuck is so funny?" He stated cocking his head to the side. "You... this... its just...." You were wheezing now clutching your sides trying to regain your composure. "I'm what?" Rooster asked getting flustered. He came around the kitchen island and helped you stand upright.

"Bradley," you began whiping a tear from your eye. "You just look so Domestic AF right now! I mean the breakfast, the apron... its just too much." You started laughing again. Rooster rolled his eyes and looked down at you.

"And why aren't you wearing clothes? What if someone broke in? Are you just going to fight them naked?" You giggled again gesturing to his interesting attire choice. He walked away from you having enough of your shit.

"Roos, you can't be mad at me!" You whined. "I mean after last night's activities and how er... erm primal you were I really didn't expect to see you down here making breakfast. Though I have to admit the view is fantastic." You shot him a wink

"Listen if you are going to keep talking about my ass-ets there will be no French Toast for you young lady!" He called while half threatening you with a spatula. Rooster put his AirPods back in, stuck his tounge out at you and began cracking some eggs in a pan.

Another fit of giggles erupted from your mouth only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You went to answer it and found some of your best friends standing in the doorway. Hangman, Bob, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote waited for you to invite them in.

"Why are you at my house?" You asked "It's Squad Breakfast Saturday and your turn to host... you didn't forget did you?" Bob asked while shifting a box of pastries in his had. "No!" You screeched out "Of course I didn't forget" you had totally forgotten. "Um hold on just wait here for like 5 minutes so I can go change" you said franticly trying to close the door. "Jesus Y/N we have all seen each other in way less Hangman said pushing past you and entering your foyer. "I'm going to go put this juice in the fridge" Jake said walking past you "Jake wait!" You cried but it was too late

"Ahh my eyes!" You heard Hangman yell as he ran out of the kitchen. "Seresin what the Fuck!" You heard Bradley yell. "You could have warned me that Bradshaw was naked in your Kitchen Y/N! Now I need to go boil my face to get that image out of my head!" Jake complained. "I tried to get you to wait out side but no!" You shot back. "Now can everyone wait on the porch so no one else sees my boyfriend naked please?" You asked ushering everyone back outside.

Fifteen minutes and a whole lot of bitching from Jake later everyone was seated having a nice breakfast. Rooster was sending jabs at Hangman by constantly wagging his eyebrows and asking Jake if he liked what he saw. Jake was still so red he couldn't come up with a comeback. As everyone was finishing up Hangman finally thought of one.

"Hey Bradshaw... mind telling us the story behind the chicken tattooed on your ass?" Jake laughed out.

"First off... it is a ROOSTER not a chicken." Bradley corrected "And second off I was drunk off my ass on tequila in Mexico and got it on a dare." Rooster finished.

"Can we see it?" Bob asked without missing a beat "Sure thing Bobby Boy" Rooster replied getting up. He was just about to show what his momma and tequila gave him when you promptly stood up.

"No... no one else gets to see my boyfriends ass besides me!" You stated covering him up. That earned a laugh from the group as you went to sit back down next to Rooster. He pulled you close and whispered in your ear. "Maybe I should tell them about you hidden tattoo." You choked on your orange juice and shot him a look. He winked at you and then went back to talking with your friends.

[landinoandco]

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

[henry-and-the-seven-lords]

Crying Some Sense

Lucifer x MC

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Prompt: "No, don't cry, I hate it when you cry."

Description: Lucifer has been put under house arrest and has been keeping himself in his office. His brothers and MC are worried, so they devise a plan to pull him out.

Warning: angst, slightly fluffy ending, Changing and possible spoiling of events from Lesson 14, there is also some threatening language so be weary of that

Levi and Mammon walk behind MC. They trudged through the damp grass behind the House of Lamentations as the sun begins to set.

"So are you sure this is going to work?" MC's voice sounds skeptical. Mammon's grand plan to get Lucifer out of the house while under arrest was for MC to touch the Grimoire Luke had picked up a few weeks earlier. This would have been easy, but recently it was moved to the mausoleum, where a certain three headed dog that only listened to Lucifer watched over it.

Mammon flashes them a smile, nodding as he walked, "Of course, ya touch it and he'll come bursting out of his office and we can talk about everything."

"Yeah, burstings right." Levi mumbled to himself before his voice began to raise, "Bursting with anger-" Levi is silence by his brother's hand as MC turns around.

"What did Levi say?" Fear filled their eyes as they watched Levi struggle in Mammon's grip.

"He just said, he'll be bursting with excitement! That's all!" His words are followed by an unconvincing laugh. MC stares at the two unconvinced before turning around. When MC starts walking again, Mammon smacks Levi's shoulder and whisper yells, "Keep your mouth shut. We don't need them freaking out even more."

Levi's eyes widened at his older brother as he whispered back, "You know it's true! Are you just going to throw them in front of Lucifer without telling them how mad he will be!?"

Mammon shushes him before checking on MC. As the wind began to howl, he answered his brother, "I was gonna figure that out when we got there. Now come on!"

Mammon grabbed Levi's arm and pulled him forward as they began to catch a glimpse of the rest of the party.

Within seconds the three were standing before Beel, Asmo, and Satan. It had become dark in the time it took Levi, Mammon, and MC to reach the outside of the mausoleum gates.

The wind began to whip around them fiercely as Asmo spoke, "Are you ready to talk to Lucifer?" His voice sounded sweet against the harsh wind.

"I-I think so." MC voice stuttered as the began to shiver against the cold night air.

When Beel heard their voice stutter, he walked over to them giving MC his jacket, "You know what to talk about, right?"

MC nodded at the tall demon, "I need to ask him about Belphie."

Satan nodded with a smile, "Correct. We'll be close by making sure Cerebrus stays out of your hair."

MC looked around, as best as they could in the dark, at all the brothers. Across everyone's faces was the same expression of sadness. These demons standing before them knew something that they did not and that terrified MC to their core.

Before long, Mammon's booming voice interrupted their thoughts, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

The Brothers led the way as MC walked behind them. The group was silent. A solemn, anxious air surrounded them as each foot crunched the grass below.

As they approached the entrance, Beel began to fall back and walk next to MC. He seemed anxious as well. This wasn't the first time MC had seem the gentle giant worry, but this was by far the worst it has ever been.

They glanced over and could see him playing with his fingers and sneaking glances at them as if he wanted to say something.

To ease his nerves, MC began the conversation, "Are you excited that you could see your twin again?"

A contented smiles passed Beel's face at MC's words, "Yeah... It really means a lot to me- to us. That you are doing this. That you are bringing our family back together."

MC smiled back. Beel's words warmed MC's heart and made the chills raking their body stop for just a moment, "It's the least I can do."

As MC finishes speaking, Mammon's voice yells over the wind to the group, "We're here."

Beel jogs up to the front of the group next to Mammon. The two begin to open the ornate stone doors leading into the mausoleum. Once the doors are pulled back, light floods their eyes blinding them for a second as they gaze into the cavernous tomb.

Mammon stands in the doorway puffing his chest and looking around to his brothers before he begins to speak once again.

"Asmo, Satan," He points to the pair, "You two go to the left and search for Cerebrus." He then gestures to the other two brothers and himself, "Levi, Beel, and I will go to the right." Mammon then turns his gaze from his brothers to MC, that sullen expression taking over his face once again. He walks up to them, gently placing his hand on their shoulders.

"You go dead center. Don't look back. Don't stop. No matter what you hear. You run to that book." As MC stared into his eyes they could see tears begin to prick the corners before he turned away saying, "Everyone got it?"

A resounding yes was heard and the group made their way in. They walked down a set of grand stone stairs.

MC stopped on the last stair as all the brothers looked at them. Asmo walked up to them grabbing their hands and speaking to them, "You wait here until you can't see us anymore. Then you start running." He looked into their eyes as he bent down and laid a gentle kiss on their hands.

All the Brothers looked at MC with sad eyes. Slowly they went up to them one at a time giving hugs and words of encouragement.

After all of their hugs were given, they split up and began to walk in different directions. MC stood and watched the brothers slowly disappear from their view until they were alone.

They stepped down gently taking a deep breath, before they began to sprint straight ahead.

As they ran, they could hear the pitter patter of soft feet to their left. The sound was then followed by a shout, "Over here, Cerebrus!" The voice sounded like Satan in the distance.

MC kept running as resounding shouts began to surround them on both sides. Mammon, Levi, Beel, Asmo, and Satan were all heard. Their voices seemed to echo off the walls and it became indistinguishable which side they were coming from.

After 5 minutes their legs began to burn as a statue came into view. They slowed before taking a breath and staring at the beautiful figure.

The towering statue was a young woman. Her face was solemn as her wings spread out from her back as if they were sheltering her. Her head was bent down and he hands were extended, almost as if she was giving an offering. In her hands, sat a black book.

"This must be the Grimoire everyone talked about." Their voice echoed in the mass of sound.

MC stepped closer inspecting the book. The black cover was made out of leather that had begun to crack. While the pages were thick and beginning to yellow creating a stark contrast of color.

They reached out their hands grabbing the book before looking around for the demon they came here to see.

The screaming that once filled the giant space stopped along with the sound of paws smacking against the floor. Everything was silent.

While waiting for something or someone to appear, MC became curious as to the books contents and began to flip through the pages.

As the pages fell open with a crinkle, the ground began to shake beneath them tearing their attention away from the Grimoire.

They looked up, before them stood Lucifer in his demon form. The ground below him was cracked and dust settled around him.

His gaze and aura is one of anger and determination as he begins to walk closer to MC.

"I see that you can't listen." His voice is steady and stern as he approaches.

MC's voice feels caught in their throat as they begin to step back to add some distance. As they did this, they shut the book and clutched it to their chest.

"I tell you to never touch this book, and yet here you are disobeying me once again." His eyes begin to flare red as MC hits the statue's hands, crawling on them to get away.

"Do you even know who I am? Do you know what you are defacing?" His expression looks crazed as his teeth become bared as he speaks.

MC finally finds their voice as they stare into his eyes, "I did this to help you. I wanted to talk about-"

"Help me!? You think this is helping me. Putting my entire family in danger just to get my attention." His voices raises to an ear piercing level as he continues, "Well now you have it!"

Silence once again overtakes the mausoleum as they stare into each other's eyes, "Oh? Now the mighty human is scared of me? It's too late for that."

Lucifer's bears his fangs and begins to reach for MC's body as they recoil deeper into the hands of the statue. They covered their face with their arms and squeeze their eyes shut bracing for impact.

Tears begin to prick the corners of their eyes and a sob shakes their body. They expect to feel an immeasurable amount of pain at the hands of one of their caretakers, but it never comes.

Slowly, MC peaks out from their curled up position to get a glimpse at the demon before them. His fangs are retracted and his demon form is gone as he stares wide eyed at the human.

They stare at him in the eyes as tears roll down their cheeks in droves.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Please no, don't cry, I hate it when you cry." They watched as one of the most powerful demons in all of the Devildom, the very demon that was about to rip them to shreds mere seconds ago, gently pulls them into his chest. He wraps his arms around their midsection like he had done before. He cradled their body delicately in his arms as if he was holding a glass sculpture.

MC listens to his heart beat thump erratically against one ear as he whispers in the other, "I never should have said that. I shouldn't have lashed out at you." He pauses, and MC can hear his heart's pace slow.

"I am just, so worried about Belphie. There is so much I still need to do to fix that problem. I thought, you were just going to make things worse."

He pulls them closer to his chest and MC feels hot tears fall onto their head, "How stupid am I, to let my rage overtake me and almost risk losing you as well."

MC's tears have slowed, but at his words, another river of them begins to trickle out. The two continue to cry in each other's arms for hours as they try to not only fix the problem, but work out their emotions.

[celestialarchon]

400+ Followers Celebration!

various genshin impact x f!reader

warnings: fluff/crack/NSFW implications, jokes and innuendos. reverse Isekai storyline and a LOT of attention on reader. SPOILERS FOR IN GAME. Archon spoilers!

As much as you tried, connecting and staying in reality was too hard. It was always the same outcome, finding yourself whisked away to another fantasy land through media. Normally your obsessions didn’t last long, but one game had completely sucked you in. Maybe it was the stress of the nightmare year 2020 or maybe it was the fact that Genshin Impact was everything you loved and more, but you couldn’t get enough. It was getting out of hand as even your roommates had began to play because of the way you romanticized the game. Acquiring most of the five star characters, building several strong teams, and finishing almost all the quests in roughly 5 months.

As an insomniac, it was easy to grind through the game until the sun came up. Sometimes you wondered if it was strange that an adult would be so enamored with a game but shrugged it off. It’d been a hellish year, you deserved to treat yourself.

Yet another night spent entirely on the dreamy land of Teyvat. You yawned and stretched as the sun peaked through the blinds and cursed yourself for not noticing the passing time. Removing your head set, you yawned again, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over you. It was strange, you’d only been up one night and you were already so tired. Your home was quiet, all the roommates sound asleep as you crept into your bed under the covers. The stuffie you adored so much was soon in your arms as you drifted off, wishing to dream of traveling the world of Teyvat.

An extremely loud crashing sound woke you from your deep sleep. Instinctively you shot up, your arm moved on its own aiming for the space around you and swinging quickly and forcefully. Your fist made contact with something and you shrieked as the strange shadow crumpled. You flew out of your bed and away from the safety of your covers, grasping for the light switch.

Your panicked screeches only grew louder as the figure on the floor groaned and stood upright, still fumbling for the lights. Fingertips finally brushed the switch on the wall and you flipped the lights on. The sudden brightness blinded you for a minute and the mystery person as well. It hit you how stupid it was to turn on the lights in your room as soon as your eyes adjusted. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you rushed to the door. You could hear heavy footsteps from the other room. Other people were home you needed to get to them.

“Shiiiiit,” The strange person groaned again, “I drank too much.”

The voice was familiar and made you freeze for a moment. Mentally slapping yourself you darted out of your room but ran straight into a wall. Well, that’s what it felt like, but there wasn’t a wall outside your door. The force of the collision knocked you on your ass and you yelped as you hit the floor.

“Oh? What’s this?” The supposed wall turned to look at you, eyebrows arched as he stared down at you.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you looked up at the familiar man. That smooth voice, the long hair, the eyepatch. This had to be some sort of weird dream. No matter how hard you tried to move, your body wouldn’t obey. You heard steps from behind you and glanced back to see another Mondstadt troublemaker. A disgruntled anemo archon was slowly approaching you.

“Ehe, fuck, she hit me hard.” Venti giggled nervously.

“Poor thing,” Kaeya held his hand out to you, “Did the mean little twink scare you?”

The room was spinning, so you took the cryo pirate’s hand. Your jaw was probably still on the floor. His grip was strong and cool, it was bringing you back down to the reality of the situation you were in. Oh, the irony. You were not dreaming. Awestruck, you peered behind Kaeya into your living room to see even more Genshin characters just vibing. The esteemed geo archon was drinking from your favorite mug, two troublesome harbingers bickered in the corner of the room, a certain librarian was flipping through your books, both travelers were attempting to learn how to play uno. It was unreal. A pirate was flirting with a silver haired beauty.There was an astrologist examining your fish tank, an alchemist and a child terrorist asleep on your floor, and a fucking adeptus perched on your couch like a gargoyle.

Your roommates were nowhere in sight and your home was crowded by your fictional lovers. The absolute chaos of it all sent you over the edge. High pitched, clearly unstable laughter erupted from you. What else could you do? Cry? That wouldn’t change anything. All eyes shifted to you as you leaned on the wall, clutching your abdomen and giggling like a madwoman. Kaeya shifted away from you, allowing the others to get a good look at you.

Finally composing yourself, you stood up straight and introduced yourself, “Hello, why are you invading my home?”

“Hey girlie! I’m Childe,” The cheery harbinger nearly skipped up to you shaking your hand, “but you can call me daddy.”

Your face reddened at his bold introduction but you clicked your tongue avoiding his eyes.

“Hello, cutie. I’m Lisa.”

“Albedo, and this is Klee.”

“I tend to go by Zhongli.”

“Beidou! The lovely lady by my side is Ningguang.”

“Adeptus Xiao.”

They all introduced themselves so politely, you almost felt bad for acting a bit crazy. However, that feeling was quickly swept away by Kaeya and his sharp tongue.

“Kaeya, but I believe you already know that,” he smirked at you, “May I ask why you aren’t wearing any pants?”

“Oi, what?” You looked down and gasped.

Venti’s drunk ass had sent you into fight and flight mode so you had forgotten all about your night time attire. You were in an oversized Genshin Impact shirt without any pants on. Shoving Venti out of your way, you rushed to your room to dig for pants. Oh, how you wished you hadn’t forgotten about laundry. You hastily grabbed a pair of shorts that really didn’t do much except cover your underwear.

“I have shorts on now. You just can’t tell because of my shirt.” You declared entering the living room.

Some of the more promiscuous characters giggled at your embarrassment while Zhongli facepalmed and the most serious of them all, Scaramouche and Xiao, simply scowled. You sat on the end of your couch furthest from everybody else, nervous. Nobody had answered your earlier question. Apparently your discomfort was lost on the Adeptus Xiao, or he just didn’t care. He was in front of you in a flash, pinching your face and glaring at you.

“Why did you call us here you foolish mortal?” His tone was more annoyed than murderous.

Zhongli slapped Xiao’s hands away from your face and sat down next to you, “Be nice. She doesn’t know either.”

You nodded at this, and the room erupted in murmurs. Zhongli slipped his arm around you, patting your shoulder sympathetically. Lumine tossed the Uno cards down and glided to you, taking strands of your hair into her hands and beginning to play with it. Perhaps it’s because you played as both the travelers but the three of you seemed to silently click. Scaramouche and Childe began to argue again about something silly. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a certain bard and the charming Sir Kaeya raiding your liquor cabinet.

It was too overwhelming to argue. Lumine took her time playing with your hair while the others attempted to figure out how to go back to their own world. Xiao crept closer to you, truly like a cat. Beidou and Ningguang fawned over you and invited you into their relationship several times. You politely declined, knowing they’d have to go back to their world. It was disappointing and a bit frustrating.

Your wish came true but it was too good to be true. Albedo seemed to notice your silence. He gently maneuvered his adorable little sister off of him and approached you. His eyes were filled with curiosity, your silence only made his thoughts wander further.

“Can I experiment on you?” Albedo was blunt.

“Huh?” You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I’m not sure if that was brave or stupid,” Childe snickered, “Has he always been this bold?”

“Tch,” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “Thats a terrible pick up line, mad scientist.”

“Leave my cutie alone!” Lisa yanked Albedo away from you defensively.

The room was filled with protest at Lisa’s words. Zhongli merely sighed and pulled you closer. Venti’s dumb ass was floating around your living room hiccuping. Xiao was wedging himself between you and the arm of the couch. It was insane. Beidou and Ningguang noticed the two Liyue men snuggling up to you and marched over to the three of you.

Ningguang tried to pull you away from them while Beidou aggressively smacked at Xiao. Xiao was hissing at the beautiful captain and Zhongli was attempting to intervene. You shoved them out of your way and stood up, panicked by the attention. Lisa caught you as you tripped over your own feet but landed face first into her chest. She stroked your hair but was interrupted by Albedo grabbing your wrist and mumbling about experiments. The single moment Childe and Scaramouche got along was to pull you from Albedo but it became a quick tug of war over you.

Somehow, Klee was still asleep and Kaeya was just watching all of it go down.

“Cheeeeeeeeers, bitch bitches,” The Knight slurred.

“Enough.” Lumine and Aether both intervened.

Aether held his hand out to you, “You don’t have to pick now, but please say you’ll come with us?”

“You belong in Teyvat,” Lumine smiled at you warmly.

“So,” Aether continued “What do you say, outlander?”

All eyes were on you as the words left Aether’s lips. What would you do?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: That slow creep, tho

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You looked down at your body and fidgeted. The skirt was so short you pulled on a pair of stockings in an effort to hide your legs, and it was tight like the blouse. Both pieces seemed to be just a size too small. The boots were higher than any heels you’d worn before and you felt awkward in the get-up.

Noon. That was when he told you the night before as he kept stalling you from leaving. Every time you were ready to push open the car door, he had something else to say. You agreed to noon just to appease him so you could run and hide in your dorm.

You pulled on your long pea coat and stuffed your textbooks into your canvas bag with the leather straps. You hiked it up on your shoulder and slung your pocketbook from your other. You stepped out into the hallway and wobbled on the heels. You clung to the handle as you kept yourself upright.

“Wow, you look special,” Gina remarked as she peeked through the kitchen door.

“Um, thanks,” you pulled your coat closed and buttoned it, “it’s… new.”

“It’s cute,” she said as Lisa came to peek through the doorway as well.

“Where are you going?” the second girl asked.

“To study,” you said as you carefully made your way to the heavy door that led to the stairwell.

“Oh, study, huh?” she teased, “can’t be alone then.”

“I’m gonna be late,” you kept your chin down.

“Don’t let us hold you up,” Gina said as you opened the door and stepped out.

“I didn’t know she had anywhere to go,” Lisa’s trilled and her voice slipped into the hall just before the wood slid back into the frame.

You exhaled through your nose and braced the railing for your slow and treacherous descent. As you got to the bottom, you teetered and pressed yourself to the wall as two girls came through the door. You watched them flit up the stairs and scurried out into the spring air.

The weather was as bitter as before. It smelled like wet grass and mud. The sun beamed down warmly and made you sweat in your jacket. You gripped the strap of your bag and cleared the single step to even ground.

“Honey,” the voice drew your eyes up from your boots and you blinked. 

The sheriff stood by his cruiser as he watched you. He didn’t wear his uniform, instead a pair of grey slacks and pure white button-up under his usual leather. He smiled and came to the end of the walk as you hesitantly closed the gap. Your heel caught in a crack and you stumbled. He caught you and gave a soft laugh.

“You okay?” he asked as he held your elbow in one hand and his other went to the small of your back.

“I’m fine,” you righted yourself and parted from him, “just didn’t see the crack.”

“Here,” he tugged on your heavy knapsack, “let me take this.”

You let him, unsure what to say. He was early. Your watch assured you he was a whole twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Your own timing was purely habit as you hated to keep others waiting.

“Thank you,” you squeaked as he put the bag in the back seat.

“So, can I see it?” he asked as he shut the door.

“What?” your brows knitted in confusion.

“The clothes,” he said lightly, “that is what you’re hidin’ under there, right?” he pointed at a large round button on your pea coat, “it’s too warm to be wearin’ all that.”

“Can I wait… until we’re at your, um, place?” you clutched the round collar of your coat anxiously.

“Oh, for my eyes only, huh,” he teased with a wink.

“No, I just… can we go?”

“Course, honey,” he brushed by you and opened the front door, “get in.”

You sat and pulled your legs in, hooking them around the edge of the seat stiffly as you crossed one over the other. The door closed and you picked at the metal clasp of your pocket book and chewed your lip. Why were you doing all this? You were an adult, he said it himself, you could say no…

You glanced around, his sheriff’s hat sat on the dashboard and you shook your head. No, you couldn’t. He was a cop and your discomfort wasn’t a reason to be uncourteous. Your mother always told you to push yourself out of your safe zone. She hated how you always held yourself back because you were scared. It was difficult enough to get you out of the house and into a dorm.

Once he was in the car, there was no turning back. You coudn’t lie about feeling sick or claim a forgotten study group, you were on your way and suddenly you were filled with panic. What if he wasn’t taking you to his house? Did that star on his hat really mean he was a good person?

“Um,” the syllable slipped from you nervously.

“What is it, hon?” he asked as he gripped the grooved wheel.

“Um, I don’t…” you stuttered as you searched for words. You couldn’t let him know what you were really afraid of, “so, uh, I would’ve thought that… you have a wife?”

His brows flicked up as you peeked over at him. He pushed his bottom lip out and hummed. He clicked his tongue and sighed.

“Well, I did,” he admitted, “but I don’t like to talk about it too much. She, er, she’s married to my deputy now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I didn’t…”

“It’s all over now,” he shrugged, “you know, I’ve moved on. We’re both happier for it.”

“That’s… good, then,” you murmured.

“Must be, I met you,” he smiled, “huh?”

“Well, I…” your hand shook and hid it up your sleeve, “I don’t know, I’m a bit young, aren’t I?”

“Young?” he said, “you don’t act it. You’re a lot more mature than lots of ladies I know. The way you carry yourself… you work hard I can tell. I don’t see your age, just a good woman.”

“Hmm,” you pursed your lips tightly.

“I mean it,” he insisted, “you got character beyond your age.”

“Thank you, but I… I don’t know,” you picked at the cuff of your coat.

“You brought your books?” he said, “must’ve. That bag sure is heavy. I got a place for ya all set up.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be workin’ on supper, I hope you don’t mind the noise,” he drawled, “you know, I don’t cook often so I might be a bit… lost.”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” you offered, “really, it’s… too much.”

“I wanna, honey,” he said, “ain’t it special? A fellow cookin’ for his lady?”

“Uh, oh,” you frowned, “sure.”

“And you can turn the radio on if you like,” he continued, “it’s new.”

You nodded and listened meekly. Every argument you had for him was quickly shot down. He was so good at telling you how you were wrong or what to do while making it feel like good advice. Each demand, each want, was presented as common sense. It was impossible to argue with him because deep inside, you couldn’t argue with yourself. 

While your gut told you something was off, your head assured you of your paranoia. You didn’t know any better, did you? You didn’t know how these things worked, how men and women got along, so of course it would feel strange to you. But he knew and he was so confident about it, he must be right.

📚

Lee’s house was nice, just outside the city limits. It reminded you of the suburban homes you passed on your way to high school in your hometown. You only ever lived in an apartment with your parents and so found the place extravagant compared to boxy until attached hallways noisy with troublesome neighbours.

He led you onto the porch, the wood painted white, and opened both the screen door and thicker wood one ahead of you. You were forced to brush against him as you entered. He was quick to trail you, the screen snapping shut behind him. He hung his leather coat and tugged on the back of your collar as he plunked down your bookbag.

“Go on then,” he said, “let me see it, honey.”

You closed your eyes and steeled yourself. You forced a smile as you undid the first button and slowly turned to him. You unhooked each until the coat fell open and you let it fall down your arms. You quickly swept it up and he took it to hang beside his own.

He faced you and gripped your shoulders as he looked down at you. You shied away as his eyes roved down your body and you took a step back as you crossed your arms.

“They’re a bit tight,” you said.

“You look mighty fine,” he slithered, “look like they fit just nice.”

“Erm,” you rocked on the balls of your feet.

He smiled and knelt to untie his shoes. You unzipped the boots and stepped out of them, stretching your arches as before you brought them flat. You pushed them beside his shoes as his strong cologne tickled your nose.

“Just in here, honey,” he waved you through a doorway, “come on.”

He went back to grab your bag and pointed you in ahead of him as he returned to you. He went to the sofa and dropped the bag on the cushion. 

“You can get settled in,” he sidled away from the coffee table, “the radios there,” he gestured to the console table along the wall, “record player too.”

“Thanks, I should be fine,” you neared and sat on the edge of the couch.

“I’ll be through there, in the kitchen,” he peeked over at another door, “you need anything, just holler.”

“I will,” you twined your fingers through each other, “thank you.”

He smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets as he lingered on the other side of the table, “you do look nice in that,” he looked you up and down again, “you don’t even need the stockings with how warm it’s gettin’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and brought your fingers to tap your lip, “guess I should get started.”

You reached for the flap of your book bag and slid out a heavy textbook. You sensed him watching you before his feet slowly turned away and he strode from the room. You opened the book and flipped through the pages mindlessly. 

This house was far enough from the city, far enough that you were stranded, and much of the area was new to you. The realisation made you tremble as you counted the page numbers.

[ragingbookdragon]

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 5

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST. AND MORE TO COME! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @edlothia-baby @soul-end @willieoo @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy

Author's Note: I have nothing to say for any of the emotions y'all are about to get from this. Enjoy!-Thorne

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she sat down, but the stretching silence growing between her and her estranged family wasn’t it. She tried to look anywhere but them, not because she was ashamed—far from it. But it was more than awkward sitting across from three brothers and a father she’d not spoken to in three years, let alone tell them she was even alive.

Her eyes found Wally’s as he sat down beside her eldest brother and if looks could’ve killed, he’d been dead and buried.

“Glare at me all you want, but I’m not going to apologize,” he shrugged.

Scowling, she turned her attention to the skyline. “Fuck you,” she spat, crossing her arms.

“At least talk to them, (Y/N).”

“And why should I, Wally?” she questioned, glaring at him. “I don’t have anything to say. If I did, I wouldn’t be here in Central.”

“You’re not leaving until you talk to them,” he finalized with a firm look and she growled low in her throat and resigned herself to her fate.

Her eyes darted to her father’s and she couldn’t for the life of her decipher what was in them. “I’ll talk for an hour,” she told him. “I’m not talking about what I’ve been doing in Central City, so don’t ask. I’m not talking about the life I’ve been living, so don’t ask. You’re only allowed to ask me about my departure and that’s it. But after one hour is up, I’m leaving.”

“Who said you get to leave,” Wally questioned, and she shot him the darkest glower she could muster.

“So help me God, Wally West you’ll either take me home or you’ll fix that fucking elevator and I’ll walk myself home. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world who every vigilante is at this table.”

For once she managed to stump him because his eyes went wide—so did her family’s but she didn’t care—and he finally nodded.

“Alright. One hour.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she turned back to her family, more specifically her father. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe for you to come home, (Y/N),” Jason answered, and she glanced to him.

“Not a chance. Next?”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to be hostile. We’re not going to force you here,” Dick said, and she looked at him now, eyes narrowing.

“The manipulation tactic isn’t going to work on me, Dick. I’m not here for to be tricked into coming back. I’m never coming back.” She cocked her leg over the side of the table and reclined, biting out, “Give me your anger. I’d prefer that instead of whatever this pitiful bullshit you’ve got going on.”

In the eighteen years they’d known their sister they’d never heard her say such a callous thing, but her words had practically slapped Dick across the face because hurt etched onto his expression, then immediately turned into anger.

“You want my anger? Fine.” He stood and pointed at her. “What the hell is wrong with you! Why would just up and disappear like you did! Do you have any idea how scared we were for you! How distraught!”

(Y/N) blinked at him. “Knowing how you like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders because you can’t help but be a hero? Probably a lot.” She made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “You’ve got forty minutes. Keep it up.”

Her eyes shifted to Bruce’s. “Did you let them read the letter? Or did you just throw it away after you read it?”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all turned to Bruce at that.

“Letter?” Tim repeated. “What letter?”

(Y/N)’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape and then she smiled knowingly. “Oh, you never showed them the letter, did you?” She looked to her brothers. “I wrote dad a letter the night I left to explain why I was leaving. It’s sugarcoated bullshit but it is the truth.”

Dick’s face contorted in anger. “(Y/N) left a reason behind and you didn’t tell us about it? Three years and not a single word?”

Bruce merely stared at her as he pulled the letter out of his coat pocket. “I was going to burn it when I found her again. Talk to her before anyone else could.”

Jason snatched the letter from his hands. It had faded a bit, softened around the hard edges, like someone had opened it and read it every day for three years.

His eyes scanned the paper, and he met her gaze, voice chock-full of hurt and she had to fight tooth and nail to keep herself from externally reacting. “You left because you thought we didn’t care about you?”

Dick reached over and took the letter. With furrowed brows and a frown, he started to read aloud, and Bruce gazed at (Y/N) as the memory came back to him.

***

Mornings at the manor were unusually quiet in comparison with the evenings. Everyone was typically too tired to argue so it accounted for a peaceful breakfast of soft words and chewing. Everyone had an assigned seat and every child had learned early on not to take the seat that belonged to another brother or their sister because there would be a fight about it.

Dick and Jason sat next to each other and (Y/N) took the seat at the end of that side; Tim and Damian took the other side—oldest to youngest, just the neat and even way Bruce liked it.

It was rare for any of the boys to be awake before him or Alfred and (Y/N) was usually the first kid to the table, the boys wandering in just minutes after her. Oddly enough, that morning she hadn’t come down for breakfast—which she always came to.

Bruce looked at Alfred. “Is (Y/N) coming down?”

Alfred hummed and gently maneuvered Tim’s arm to the side to he could set down the plate. “When I went to her door, it was locked, and I received no conversation from inside.”

Jason snorted and sipped his coffee. “Probably had a long night with her friends and is still out. I know I would be.”

“How would you know?” Tim interrupted. “You died before you got to the eleventh grade.”

“You’re one to talk, dropout,” Dick countered, and Damian sighed.

“Richard, you dropped out of college. The only son of Batman who has actually completed an entire bout of schooling is me.”

The three boys turned on him with scowls and retorted, “No one asked you, pipsqueak.” Damian glared back at them.

Bruce rolled his eyes, using the side of his fork to cut into his omelet. “Let’s try not to start a free-for-all here in the breakfast room, please.” He glanced at Alfred. “She’s probably tired from all the ceremonies. Let her sleep.”

Alfred nodded. “Of course, Master Bruce. She should be well rested this evening.”

But when the evening came, Alfred still hadn’t been able to get (Y/N) to unlock her bedroom nor speak to him. He certainly wasn’t worried, but it was off for her to be so reclusive. When Bruce and the boys came back from patrol, he mentioned it to him.

“Miss (Y/N) hasn’t come out from her bedroom, Master Bruce. Nor has she said a single word all day.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed and he tugged the cowl off, rising from the seat at the Batcomputer. “I’ll go check on her,” he replied. “You deal with…” his steel eyes drifted to Dick who had Tim in a headlock and Jason who was giving Damian a noogie. “Them,” he finalized, leaving the poor butler behind.

He knocked on the door to her room and pressed his ear to it. “(Y/N)? You haven’t come out all day. Is everything alright?”

Nothing. Not even a breath.

“(Y/N), are you in there?” he asked again and when he didn’t receive a confirmation, he raised his arm, running his fingers along the doorframe until he touched a small metal piece. He pulled it down and stuck it in the door, wiggling the knob for a second before it clicked, and he opened the door.

“Sweetheart, we’ve been trying to—” Bruce went silent when he saw the kempt room. Bed neatly made, everything organized and put away. Even her clothes hamper was empty.

He blinked and walked into the room, quickly heading to the bathroom to check for her there. It was empty as well, and just as clean, leaving him stunned as he exited the bath.

Wandering over to her desk, he saw an elegant envelope sitting on top of her laptop, his name written in beautiful penmanship. He picked it up and unfolded it, pulling out the multi-page letter. He drew his eyes along the golden lines, reading her words.

Dad,

I don’t really know how to start this letter. Truth be told I’ve written at least six before this one, and even then, I’m not entirely happy with it. But if you’re reading this, I’m not here anymore. I haven’t hurt myself in anyway, you don’t need to worry about Vicki Vale or Jack Ryder reporting the discovery of my body. I mean it in a literal sense—I’m not in Gotham anymore. Neither am I ever coming back.

Don’t think this is your fault. You’re a good father, the best I could’ve been given, and my brothers are good siblings. But the truth is that I’m not fit for this family of heroes. And I never have been. My best when trying to be what all of you are, was never good enough and I’ve spent eighteen years staring at your backs, waiting for you all to realize that I’m still here, that I still matter even if I’m not like you. And I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own home any longer.

I don’t want you to look for me. I know you will, but I wish you wouldn’t. This isn’t some spur of the moment thing I decided to do the night after graduation. If you look at my bank records, I’ve been withdrawing cash from my savings since freshman year—this is four years of planning, so please understand that I’m doing this because I don’t want to be found—ever.

I’ll leave the story for the media up for you, though I doubt that they’ll care long enough to make a deal of it. It’ll pass like winter does spring and they’ll move on to the next bigger story.

Thank you for everything dad, and good luck with Gotham—keep it safe like you always have. And I hope that one day when you think of me, you won’t feel disappointment. I’ve only ever tried to be something that when you looked down on me, you’d only be proud, and I hope one day I’ll achieve what I always dreamed about. Eighteen is young to be on your own and I’m scared. But I’ll be okay—I always have been.

So do me a favor and don’t spend too much time over this. There are plenty more younger kids that need a parent’s hand on their backs to steady them like you once did for me. Find one and fill my spot. Let them shine brighter than I ever could. Let them be the one worthy to be a Wayne—I know I never was.

-(Y/N)

Bruce barely had time to grasp the back of her chair to keep himself from falling to his knees in shock. The letter was clenched in his hand and his lungs wouldn’t take in air like he wanted them to, his heart aching with each palpitation. He looked around the room to her dresser drawers, willing the strength into his legs to moved over to it. He opened every drawer and to his astonishment, they were empty. Hurrying to the bathroom, he noticed the drawers in there were empty as well. She was really gone. And he had no idea what to do.

***

Tears were in Dick’s eyes when he finished the letter and he looked up at her. “How could you ever think we didn’t care about you, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t want to have this conversation. She didn’t want to sit there and explain every time she asked her brothers if they wanted to do something with her and they conveniently had something else to do. Didn’t want to explain every school and extracurricular performance that went unattended and left a little girl standing in front of a crowd barely managing to stave off the tears as she bowed and thanked them for coming. She didn’t want to remember all the memories that chipped away at her heart with every disappointment that occurred. All she wanted to do was leave.

(Y/N) had earlier returned to her original position, hands in her lap and she clenched her fists until her nails bit into the skin of her palms, eyes directed anywhere but Dick’s.

“I think it’s time we call this little reunion done,” she said, standing to her feet. “We’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Not if you run again,” Jason muttered, unconsciously wiping a tear from his eye.

She pointed at him, hissing, “I didn’t run the first time, Jason. I left. On my own accord.”

“You ran instead of coming to us, (Y/N),” Tim said, and she threw her hands above her head in disbelief.

“What the fuck did you want me to do! Wander down into the cave and beg at your feet for someone to pay attention to me! To at least pretend like I was a sister! I did! Every day!”

(Y/N) picked up her purse and yanked it up her arm. “Cassandra seems to be fitting in better than I did. So go and dote on her as the younger sibling. I’m not interested in the position anymore.”

“It’s not a competition,” Dick explained. “We love you just as much as we love Cass.”

She paused and gazed at him, voice laced with disappointment as she disagreed, “Then you should make sure she’s content in the manor, because if you love her with any semblance of how you loved me? It’s not at all.”

Her eyes shifted to Wally’s. “Fix the elevator. Now.”

He stayed seated for a moment, the two of them staring each other down, then he nodded wordlessly and moved to the elevator, starting it again. Her family stayed seated, and she gave them one final look before she followed Wally, silently waiting for the doors to open.

When they did, she stepped inside and turned around, hitting the button. Just before the doors closed, Wally stopped them and murmured, “You’re making a mistake.”

“My worst mistake was becoming friends with you.” (Y/N) blinked at him, then reached up and shoved his hand away from the door and as it closed, she remarked coldly, “And you can go to hell for all I care.”

[fckwritersblock]

The Other Sinclair

Stranger Things; Black!reader x Everybody

Description: Lucas’ older sister gets back in town and is not very happy to hear about the events that took place. Especially when it comes to someone putting their hands on her little brother.

Warnings: I mean.....mild violence, but again this page is 18+ so y’all be aite

(Unedited .)

“5 minutes Lucas! I leave you guys for 5 got damn minutes and everything goes to shit!”

Y/n was livid.

It wasn’t really anyone’s intention for her to find out. Lucas knew better than to involve her unless he really needed to. If there was one thing she didn’t play about it with her family. It would’ve all been fine too, however when Y/n saw Steve, she asked what happened to his face and he couldn’t help but blurt everything out. Now, being that she was included in all the events the previous year it didn’t come as a surprise that the moment she left for 2 weeks for the cheerleading competition they’d get themselves into more shit.

“I just want to know what made him think he could put his hands on you!”

Now she knew about the new kid and his rivalry with Steve. That was purely their egos and a mess full of entirely too much testosterone and high school cliche for her to bother with. That would come to pass as Steve was proving to be less and less of asshole everyday. But to hear Steve’s face, though healing, looked like that as a result of protection her little brother and the rest of the kids..

No, ma’am.

“Was anyone gonna tell me?” She fussed at the preteens.

“It’s over, we handled it.” Lucas groaned knowing his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Uh huh. I’m sure.” The elder Sinclair rolled her eyes, arms crossed and hip poked out. “And this Billy kid is related to who? Your little girlfriend right?”

Y/n’s gaze quickly shifted to the girl in question.

“Yeah. H-hi. I’m Max.”

Y/n said nothing, just continued to stare and assess the child. Finally she smiled.

“Max, you look like a sweet kid and I really don’t wanna not like you. So spill. What’s his deal?”

Max twiddled her fingers only hesitated for a moment before she gave her boyfriend‘s sister the backstory on her stepbrother and his dad. Giving her a little bit of detail about how he also felt about black people.

“Interesting. And where can I find this Hargrove?” Y/n inquired.

“The arcade.” Max answered.

Nodding she went over to the front door of the Sinclair residence and opened the door.

“Ma, I’m taking the boys to the arcade with Steve.”

Barely take time to get a response, she grabbed her house keys off the hook and closed the door behind her.

“Y/n I don’t think-“ Steve began but she cut him of.

“Don’t hurt yourself doing that.”

“This isn’t a good idea.” Lucas mumbled.

“I don’t remember asking you.” Y/n replied.

“I forgot that’s where Erica gets it-“ Dustin commented in a failed attempt to whisper.

“Shut up Dustin. Everybody in the car.” She snatched the keys from Steve. “And I’m driving.”

The ride to the arcade was quiet, everyone afraid to speak as Y/n drove them the short distance a little quicker than usual. Soon as they pulled up, she parked randomly and they all hopped out.

“Where is he?”

Max looked around before pointing him out.

Once Y/n laid eyes on him she scoffed before rolling them. There stood Billy Hargrove leaning against his car with Tommy and a few girls fawning over him. He looked like the king of douche bags like he had some grade A daddy issues. Any other time she’d feel for him, but he did the one thing he shouldn’t have and that was a mess with her little brother.

“Hold these.” She practically shoved her pompoms in Steve’s hands before heading for Billy.

“Babe,” but the look y/n gave Steve shut him up.

All The kids followed her protesting the entire way trying to get her to change their mind scared of what Billy might do to her regardless of the deal he made with Max. After all, she was just a stranger approaching him in a hostile way, and the gang expected nothing more than for him to react in true Billy. Steve on the other hand, was preparing to possibly receive another busted lip if Billy decided to retaliate and even think about raising his hand to her. He’d go out fighting again if need be. However Y/n wasn’t scared.

Less than a few feet away she bawled her fist, feeling all the anger toward the white boy surface.

“Hey asshole!”

He barely spared them a glance before doing a double take. Once he spotted his sister and her friends a cocky smirk planted itself on his face.

“Well well if it isn’t the losers-“ y/n held up her hand to silence him, her steps coming to a halt.

“You Billy Hargrove?” She pretended to smile flirtatiously.

“Who’s asking princess?” He asked with a cocky smirk, giving her a once over.

“Y/n Sinclair.” And with that Y/n cocked her arm back and punch him squads in face.

“Well, shit.”, Dustin said as the rest of the party gasped.

Wow they didn’t hear a crack or anything, they could see Billy’s now blooded nose, leaking while he grabbed it.

“Fuck! You bitch!” He quickly got in Y/n’s face to where she took a step closer staring up at him.

“I dare you.” Y/n challenged not even flinching as his nostrils flared and fist balled at his side as if he was thinking about retaliating.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but put your hands on my little brother,” she pointed at Lucas. “Again and I promise you’ll have bigger problems when my brother and daddy gets a hold of you and yours.”

“Brother?” Billy repeated sounding surprised.

“Howard Star QB.” She smirked.

Anthony Sinclair was older than Y/n by two years. Currently not present since he was off at Howard University but that could all change with a phone call from her or Erica.

“Are we clear?” She asked crossing her arms.

Billy continued to glare at her as he held his blooded nose, but nodded nonetheless.

“Manners, William. Use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off.”

“Glad we’re on the same page Willy.” She smiled before turning back toward the kids who all continued to stare in shock.

“Are you sure Mrs. Wheeler is picking you up?”

“Yeah-“ they chorused.

“Mom.” Dustin added.

“Good! I’ll see you at home Luke. Bye guys.” She smiled taking her pom poms from Steve and heading to his car.

“Oh. And don’t touch Steve either.” She called over her shoulder. “He’s also mine.”

“Wow,” spoke El and Max in awe

“She’s scary when she’s mad.” Mike commented.

“Yeah.” Steve agreed. “And hot.”

“Very hot.” Dustin added earning a punch in the arm from Lucas and A hit upside the head from Steve

“Come on Harrington.” Y/n beckoned from the passenger seat. “This ice cream isn’t going to pay for itself.”

The teenager grinned to himself goofily as he headed toward his car.

“Yes ma’am!”

[blackenedwhite97]

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

[writersblog20]

I can't help being scared!

Sebastian Stan x reader

Guest appearance: marvel cast

Warnings: some curse words. Little bit of angst if you squint but barely noticeable.

Summary: The reader is on the Graham Norton Show with Sebastian, Tom Hiddleston, Chris Evans, RDJ, Anthony Mackie and Benedict Cumberbatch. Graham shows a clip of the reader with her classmates for a project at a haunted house. That gives the rest of the cast a brilliant idea! But unfortunately their great plan didn’t turn out great for you… or did it?

Words: 3169

I can’t help being scared!

You were backstage with Sebastian, Tom, Chris, RDJ, Anthony and Benedict. You were quit nervous to say the least. This was your first time on a talk show host. But you weren’t nervous for the actual show but because Graham always knew how to find embarrassing videos and/or pictures. And there were enough of them! Sebastian stood next to you. His arm around you. “you’re great, they’re gonna love you” he told you. You just smiled. “Sebastian is right darling, no need to worry! We’re here with you.” Tom said sweetly. You blushed a little. “thank you guys” you told them.

Since you were the newbie you thought they would give you a little bit of a hard time but that was everything but the truth! They took you in as a part of the family. The fans already loved you! And you really grew closer to Sebastian. This was your first big role and you loved Marvel way before you got the part. And you also had a huge crush on Sebastian before that. You might have hoped that he was a jackass so it would be easier to be around him than crush on him hard. But also that was everything but the truth. He was so nice. Nicer than you thought he was, which is very hard to achieve, but yet there he was. He might’ve been the nicest person you’ve ever encountered. But the whole cast was extremely nice and kind! It just didn’t help with your crush on Sebastian to say the least….. you were full head over heels for the blue eyed man.

Graham called you one by one on the stage, leaving you and Sebastian alone for a second. “Really sweetheart, they’re gonna love you!” he told you “Thank you Seba” you told him with a slight blush. “also you look incredible!” he told you while scanning you which made you blush even harder. Graham called Sebastian to the stage and he gave you a quick kiss on the side of your head and squeezed your hand before going up.

You paced a little around when your name came up. “and a huge applause for Y/N Y/L/N!” the crowd grew wild. You walked up and waved to the people and gave Graham a hug while the whole cast smiled at you. You plopped down the couch next to Sebastian and Chris. You took a sip of your alcoholic drank.

The show was going great until the last moment. “So Y/N, do you get scared easily?” he looked at him in confusion. “ehm I don’t really know actually although the question scares me” you told him laughing not knowing what he was going with this. The crowd was laughing with you. “I’m asking because we have found a video of you, and I believe are some classmates? At a haunted house for a project…. “ he said waiting for the ball to drop in your head. “oh god” you said immediately feeling embarrassment filing up your body.

“yeah I remember….” You said chuckling. The whole cast looked at you in confusion. “well we don’t know!” RDJ said. “well luckily we have the footage” Graham said. You groaned putting your hands in your face. “maybe you can gives a little background story on this” Graham asked chuckling while holding his cards in front of his mouth. You chuckled a little as well “okay so ehm… we had a project to make a video and we were left doing what we wanted but it had some criteria we had to get of course. But ehm the group decided to go to a haunted house and well I didn’t really like it” you said “lets watch the footage” Graham said and the crew scooted over to get a good look at the monitor it was playing the video on.

~footage~

“so here we are! At a haunted house for a challenge!” one of your classmates Joey said. You were in a group of 5 people. They all stood next to each other. Tyron didn’t like it as well. All the others were excited except the two of you. You on the other hand wasn’t in the shot. They all introduced themselves “and Y/N is over there!” they panned the camera to you, who was standing against the wall. You gave them a small wave. They started laughing. “what are you doing over there?” they asked you teasingly. “yeah I don’t trust anyone behind me right now. and now I can see them coming” you said.

After 1 minute of introduction a scare actor came up to you on roller skates and knee pads. He took a good run up you and went on his knees rolling further towards you. You noticed him and immediately jumped over the guy running towards the group who were now laughing their asses off. “yeah very funny can we just get this over with?” you asked the group annoyed.

“sure but now first the challenge! You guys don’t know what it is right?” you all nodded. Right so we’re going to be bound to one another. So we have a rope and we tie it up around one ankle so you’re bound to the other person. “excuse me know???” you asked unamused. They laughed. “Y/N you’re with Tyron.” They made the pairs and you tied each other up.

You went in the haunted house and already got scared. You and Tylor wanted to run but you both went the other way which made you fall down. The rest of the group laughed again. “Fuck dude!” you yelled but more at the actor and yourself. This went down for another good 4 minutes which got harder with the second since the actors had their eyes on you and Tylor because you were so scared. They figured “Let’s make it worse!”. At the last minute in the haunted house you and Tylor untied yourself and fleet the scene with a lot of actors behind your asses. You run like you never had before.

~end footage~

The cast was laughing a lot and you giggled a little while holding your face in embarrassment. “So I figured you didn’t really liked it?” Graham asked you. You laughed “no not really”. You all talked about it for a little more until the show ended.

You were standing in the dressing room changing in sweatpants. the cast couldn’t stop talking about it. “You have to give me that footage!” Chris said laughing. You rolled your eyes. You knew you were going to be the center of Chris’s scare pranks. Everyone was changed in comfortable clothes and Sebastian in black sweatpants as well.

You all got out of the building thinking of what to do next since everyone was so hyped. “I have a great idea!” Anthony said and whispered something to Chris who was now laughing his ass off. You frowned and looked at Sebastian who looked at you in confusion as well. “okay I know a great place!” Anthony said which made Chris laugh more “yeah I don’t think I trust you right now” you told Anthony. “Oh come on you’ll love it! Just follow me” he said making his way. Everyone looked at each other considering it. Eventually following the two boys.

You walked in a funfair. You frowned and wondered what the two boys were up to. You stopped in front of a haunted house. “absolutely fucking not” you told them shaking your head. “oh come on Y/N. It’s not like it is a haunted house where you went. I mean we’re at a funfair. It’s not going to be that scary!” you rolled your eyes.

Sebastian placed his hand softly on your arm. “I’m here with you. I’m not going to let you alone or fuck with you.” He told you and got a little closer “you can hold my hand if that helps.” He said and you were waiting for him to crack up laughing but he didn’t he looked sincere. “and of course if you really don’t want to we don’t have to! I mean there are a lot of great games that we can play” he told you excited which made you laugh a little. “alright I’ll come with you” you said to Anthony and Chris.

“we’ll go too!” Benedict said motioning to him and Tom. “Great! So everyone is going!” RDJ said. They bought tickets and you were in line. It was a busy night. You stood next to Sebastian “like I said I’m not going anywhere!” he told you with a soft genuine smile. You took his hand softly in yours which made him smile. “I’m not going to let you go now” he said with a grin and you chuckled. “Hey love birds! It’s our turn now!” Anthony said.

You rolled your eyes. fine now or never you said to yourself. Sebastian squeezed in your hand. What all of you didn’t know was that this was the scariest haunted house in the world. It toured all over the world and looked like a crappy haunted house but at the back it was huge! But you all didn’t know that.

You walked in and you immediately had weird vibes. Tom and Ben noticed as well and looked at you a little worried but getting scared themselves as well. You started to hold Sebastian’s arm with your free hand. He looked at you. “Are you okay?” he asked “I don’t know it feels…..” right before you could finish your sentence scare actors came from everywhere and there were flashing lights and loud sounds like they were throwing stuff.

“oh fuck….” You heard Anthony say. Sebastian threw a arm around you and still held your hand protectively. “I’m not letting go. I’m right here sweetheart.” He said while getting a little frightened himself. Tom stood on the other side of your protectively as well. Sebastian threw a mad glance at Anthony and Chris.

You were a couple of rooms further but that meant it only got scarier. A scare actor came behind you and you jumped to the front where there was another scare actor waiting for you. He came into your personal space and into your face which made you more mad and angry then scared actually. “The hell!” you said angry. Sebastian and Benedict pulled you back and took you further. “what an asshole!” you said and huffed.

You let go of Sebastian’s hand more pissed then scared and walked towards the front. You pushed Anthony and Chris out of the way which scared them to death and walked up front. “oh she’s really pissed now” said Benedict. “yup” said Sebastian with a proud grin on his face. You ignored all the scare actors and didn’t get out of the way. One actor was trying to scare you and you just stood there, pissed of with a face of steel. He also tried to get into your face. “I really wouldn’t do that buddy. I’m not playing anymore.” You told him calmly. He went out of your way and all the boys looked surprised but also mesmerized. Anthony and Chris looked at each other in guilt and stress. You were really intimidating now and they knew you were mad at them. The started to get more scared of you then the actual haunted house itself.

You got out first and waited for Anthony and Chris while you stood there with your hands on your hips. They got out and immediately started to apologize. You looked unamused with them but your face softened a little at them. “I know you didn’t know but don’t you dare to do shit like this again” you said stern “Yes ma’am” Anthony said without thinking which made everyone giggle a little.

“So ehm well, that was eventful but I’m going back to the hotel now” Tom said. Benedict nodded. “yeah we’ll go as well. And again we’re really sorry Y/N” Chris said really feeling bad. You gave them a hug. “It’s okay now just don’t do something like this again” they nodded and left. “Well have fun lovebirds! Just not too much fun” RDJ said with a wink.

When everyone left you looked at Sebastian. “Thank you for keeping your promise Seba” you told him softly. “of course! Can’t let my favorite girl suffer!” you started to blush not really knowing what to say. He smiled at you. “What about those games huh?” Sebastian said with a grin. “sounds good to me” you told him with a smile.

After a few games you started to get chills. “Are you cold sweetheart?” Sebastian asked you. A little bit yeah. Sebastian took his coat off and after that his sweater. He pulled his coat on again and helped you out of yours. He pulled the sweater over your head. It was so warm and soft and it smelled like Sebastian. “Better?” He asked you with a soft smile but yet so bright. “Much” you told him giving him a kiss on his cheek which made him blush.

The whole evening you played games. Sebastian won a lot of plushy toys for you. You both walked back to the hotel. You with a big ass plushy toy in your arms and Sebastian with four others and some food. You laughed your whole way back remembering the eventful night. “No, no, no, Y/N I’m telling you! You were such a badass. I mean even Anthony said Ma’am to you” Sebastian laughed and you fell against him from laughing so hard.

“hey I got a idea” you told him with a big evil grin on your face. He started to giggle “oh no, what have you got in mind?” You took his hand and walked towards the elevator and stepped in. “what room are they staying in again?” you asked Sebastian and he had to remain himself from laughing too hard. “ehm I believe 212” he told you. You got out of the elevator going to your own room to place the stuff down before going back again”You turned to Sebastian who looked at you curiously while you stood at their door. “payback time” you told Sebastian and you bonked at their door. You took Sebastian’s hand while running away.

You were both a giggling mess. “Hello?” we heard Anthony say. Sebastian got closer and you stood with your back against the wall. You placed your hand on his mouth to silence the giggles. “Hello???” You heard Anthony say again. Sebastian stopped giggling as well as you did. You started to look at each other. Getting lost in his bright blue eyes. and he in yours. You felt your heartbeat pick up. You realized that his body was plastered on yours at the moment and his face just inches away from yours. You slowly lowered your hand from his mouth. He got closer to you. That was when you heard footsteps. Sebastian took your hand this time and run with you. You ran across Chris’s room and you bonked on that one as well before running further.

You kind of went in circles. You saw the back of Anthony and Chris. They were talking to each other. This time you dragged Sebastian behind you. You slowly made your way towards their back. When you were finally there you started to yell. But not hard enough to wake up other guest but enough to scare them. Chris fell on the ground and Anthony held onto his chest. “Payback bitch!” you said laughing along with Sebastian. They looked at you petrified “goodnight” you said with an evil smile like a hint for them to know that there would be more (there wasn’t but you let them think that there was).

You went back to your hotel room with Sebastian. You were still holding hands. “Do you want to watch a movie maybe?” you asked Sebastian not wanting to be alone. He grinned “I would love that”. You felt butterflies in your stomach again.

You got in your hotel room and Sebastian placed the big plushy bear on your bed which made you giggle. You started to take his sweater of before he stopped you. “keep it on, looks better on you anyway” he told you with a soft smile which made you blush once again.

You got beverages out of the fridge and some crisps and you plopped on the bed. Sebastian wanted to take the chair which made you frown but yet made your heart melt at the gentleman that he is. “Seba?” He looked at you and you padded next to you on the bed. He smiled and said next to you. You both choose a comedy movie and you made yourself comfortable.

You laid on Sebastian’s chest with your arm on his stomach. He held you close to him. “Seb? Can you please stay with me tonight? You asked him sleepy. “I will. I’m not going to let you go sweetheart.” He said with hearts in his eyes when he looked at you. He crawled closer under the covers with you which made you lay almost on top of him. He started to laugh “Sweetheart, I would love to stay with you but you have got to let me breath” he said laughing. You groaned and laid next to him.

He turned so you were face to face. He studied your features with love in his eyes. “you’re staring Seb” you said chuckling and opening your eyes. he blushed a little. “I’m sorry. You’re just…. You’re just really beautiful and…. And I really like you Y/N”

Your eyes got big at his confession. You loved him you just didn’t think he would feel the same. “I really like you too Seb” You told him. He got closer again and placed his plump lips on yours. He cupped your cheek with his hand and you deepened the kiss. After a while he pulled back. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” I would love to Seb. Only if you make it just as adventurous as this one” you told him with a smile. He had the biggest grin on his face. “promise except for the haunted house” he told you. You smiled. “I had you with me so it wasn’t so bad” you told him with a grin. He kissed you again. You both couldn’t wait for the future and adventurous dates you would have. Everything would be okay because you had Seb and Sebastian had you.

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