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summerwritesfics · 4 months

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🏢I Wanna, I Wanna Stay ‘Til The End, Chapter 2 - However Long You Stay Is All That I Am

Pairing: Rain/Kuai Liang Length: 6361 Words Rating: Explicit 🔞 Warnings: Neighbours AU, Modern AU, Friends With Benefits, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Self-Esteem Issues, Medical Procedures, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Past Cheating, Cockblocking (especially relevant in this chapter LMFAO), Anxiety, Eventual Smut, Is it slowburn if the sex is fast but the emotions are slow, Minor Tanleena, 70% of this fic is me cockblocking Rain

I Wanna, I Wanna Stay ‘Til The End Masterlist

Notes: Hurray! Another chapter of another fic I havn’t updated in a while 😭 I’m doing it guys. Heads up, this chapter does have some discussion of past domestic abuse and past infidelity, but it’s kind of still tame atm. As a note before anyone leaves me a comment about it, I am aware that as of MK1 Rain has been given an actual name. I will however, still be referring to him as Ranjit for this story. I already started with that name and I don’t want to change it now. Chapter Title is from “All The Same” by Sick Puppies.

“Rule one of the getting laid guidebook, don't try to fuck someone who has something in the oven.” Mileena sat back in her chair, putting her feet up on the desk. “Rule two, don't have your phone with you, and if you do, don't answer it.”

Rain glared at her, head on the desk. The report had taken him far longer than he'd liked. He hoped to get it done quickly and then return to Kuai's apartment again. He was so close, Kuai was even fighting whatever anxieties he had and flirting back. But by the time he finished the report it was 3am, and somehow he doubted a booty call at that time would go down well, no matter how into it Kuai was.

“Hey, look at the bright side,” Tanya started and Rain aimed his scowl at her now, because what bright side? “You know he's gay, single and, for reasons I can't fathom, down to fuck you.”

Rain stuck his tongue out at her. She had a point though. Kuai was flustered by Rain coming on so strong, but seemed open to it. He flirted back. He looked genuinely disappointed when Rain had to leave. God fucking dammit a hot guy was going to fuck him and then the universe decided to cockblock him. That seemed fucking typical.

“Are you three actually working or are you just having a circle jerk?”

Rain sat up. His glare now on Reiko, standing in the doorway and looking at the three of them with disgust. Why the hell Shao Kahn continued to hire him, Rain had no idea, especially given what he did to Mileena while they were dating.

“Don't you have to be a douchebag somewhere else?” Tanya hissed, and it was obvious she was trying to resist the urge to walk over there and punch him. Rain wouldn't hold her back if she did.

“Don't you have work to be doing?” Reiko sneered back. Rain clenched his jaw as Reiko's gaze landed on him. “Sorry to hear your plans didn't go ahead last night.” Rain snorted, how long had Reiko been listening in to know the details? “Guy must be pretty desperate though if he considered fucking you.”

It was one thing for Tanya to tease him about something like that, but Reiko's tone made it clear this wasn't just friendly ribbing. This was malicious. It was quite frankly gross, how Reiko tried to tear him down for daring to side with Mileena after the breakup. Like Reiko wasn’t the cause of it in the first place.

“Sounds like you're jealous no one wants to touch you,” Tanya snapped back. He wanted to tell her that stooping to Reiko's level wasn't exactly the best idea.

“That's not what your girlfriend thought.” And that was why engaging seemed like a bad move. Mileena was shrinking into her seat, looking like she did not want to be here. Tanya looked like she was about to rip Reiko's head off.

“You know what, my personal life is none of your business,” Rain interrupted, hoping to god he could put an end to the argument before it really got ugly. The last thing they needed was being reprimanded for getting into a physical brawl in the office.

“Maybe you shouldn't talk about it so loudly then.” Okay being the bigger person really isn’t working. Of course it wouldn’t when the person you’re trying to put yourself above was such a condescending asshole. “I really don't want to know the details of some old guy you're going to swindle into having sex with you.”

“Then put your hands over your ears and walk away, no one's forcing you to listen.” Rain tried to ignore the weird twist of doubt now in his head. Swindle into having sex... Was he swindling Kuai into having sex with him? What did that even mean in this context?

“Whatever, I hope the guy figures you out before he gets himself hurt.”

Rain didn't get a chance to retort before Reiko disappeared, turning his back on them and leaving the room. He gave an annoyed sigh, shaking his head as he turned back to look at his friends. Tanya still looked ready to gut someone, while Mileena was staring down at her hands.

“You okay, Milly?” He asked, and Tanya's anger finally faded as she turned to her girlfriend.

Mileena looked up at them and gave a forced smile, “yeah. Let's just pretend that didn't happen.”

Rain wanted to agree except that nagging doubt was back. Mileena and Tanya were his best friends, but didn't coddle him. If he asked if they thought he was in some way tricking Kuai Liang, they would tell him their truthful opinion.

“Do... Do you guys think I'm 'swindling' Kuai to sleep with me?” He asked. He didn't particularly like the look the pair shared.

“I mean, you do seem a little preoccupied with sleeping with him, rather than getting to know him,” Mileena said, rubbing the back of her head.

“I can be interested in sleeping with him and getting to know him,” he argued. “Those two things aren't mutually exclusive.”

“I just think you need to talk to him first, see what he wants from this,” Tanya advised. “I mean he's what? A single 40 year old man? He's probably more interested in someone he can settle down with, rather than rampant sex.”

Rain hadn't really considered that. He'd been so distracted by the fact Kuai was hot and gay he hadn't really thought about what the other man could potentially be looking for in a relationship. Maybe he just wanted someone to fool around with too. But maybe it was like Tanya said and he'd want something serious. Rain wanted something casual, but that didn't mean everyone else did.

“Just be careful,” Mileena said, “he seemed really anxious, and if you aren't on the same page about this, it could really hurt him.”

Rain was a bit of a fuckboy, he openly admitted that, but he never really intended to hurt anyone. Maybe I need to slow it down a bit.

“Alright, I'll see if I can talk to him.” He wasn't sure if he should do it before or after he had sex with him. He'd just see how things went the next time he saw him, he guessed.

“Good, until then though, we should probably get to work before someone who isn't dickface comes and yells at us,” Tanya said, picking up a pile of paper on her desk. “Did you want to go over the newest marketing pitch again before I send it off?”

“Yeah we should do that,” he agreed, although he knew that part of him would be thinking about the man living opposite to him, and how to figure out what he wants from a relationship.

Kuai hummed to himself walking down the street. It had been a good day. He'd managed to get a good chunk of the first draft done, spoken to Johnny about the scripting of the next book-turned-movie, and managed to get his bubble tea order in one take without stumbling over his words. It seemed a little silly to call that last one a win, but when you were used to always saying the wrong things, getting things right seemed like an accomplishment.

He had mostly been able to put the night before to the back of his mind too. He had thought about it though, while he sat in the park and drank his bubble tea. He really needed to figure out what Rain wanted.

Well, other than sex because that much was completely obvious.

It seemed like Rain wasn't looking for serious commitment. Just because that was how it appeared didn't mean that was what was really going on.

He'd been committed for 15 years, rushed into marriage at 20 and never really knew what it was like to not be in a long term relationship. And look what that had given him? Nothing but pain, emotional and physical. He was still healing from what had happened to him. He wouldn't rush into another serious relationship, he wouldn't let himself be hurt like that again.

He didn't think that Rain would do terrible things to him, but then he hadn't believed his husband would either. The possibility was terrifying to him.

If they could keep things casual in some way, he would appreciate it.

As he approached the apartment, he noticed the very man he needed to talk to was at the door. He looked like he was trying to figure out the trick with the door. The door clicked open and he gave a loud cheer as he did.

“I'm the best around! Nothings ever gonna keep me down!” He sang triumphantly, pumping his fist as he did. It was very endearing.

Kuai bit his knuckle to try and stop himself from laughing. Unfortunately, he snorted very loudly as a result, and Rain's head snapped around. He looked extremely embarrassed that Kuai had just seen that.

“Oh uh. You saw that, huh?” Rain sucked in a breath as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Don't worry, the secret of your dorky side is safe with me,” Kuai teased, trying not to grin. Rain gave a sheepish smile before holding the door open for him. Kuai thanked him as he slipped inside.

“So, I was actually hoping I'd catch you,” Rain finally said, following Kuai over to the elevator. “Given that I still owe you for the cakes, and I was thinking about ordering takeout tonight, I was wondering if you cared to join me?”

Huh. I wasn't expecting that. Maybe he had been wrong about Rain just wanting something casual. Or... was just having a meal together still considered casual? Kuai really didn't have enough experience with dating to be able to say.

Still, I can't really go wrong with free food, can I?

“That does sound good,” Kuai answered with a smile, just as the elevator doors opened. “What did you have in mind?”

“Maybe a Chinese or pizza, whichever you prefer.” Rain lent against the wall of the elevator and the smile he wore made him look so handsome Kuai had to physically restrain himself from swooning.

“I could definitely go for a pizza right now,” Kuai replied, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He bit his lip. “I was hoping to talk to you, actually.”

“Huh, no kidding?” Rain hummed, pursing his lips. “There was something I was hoping to talk to you about too.” He grimaced slightly, “although it's a little personal, and we should probably wait until we're in my apartment.”

Strange. But Kuai smiled still and answered “ah, what I wanted to talk about may be better for a private place too then.”

Rain looked like he wanted to ask, but then the doors opened, and the subject was dropped and they exited as Rain asked “so, how was work today?”

“Pretty well, actually,” Kuai replied, “I made good progress on a couple of my current projects.”

Rain pursed his lips, “I don't think I've actually asked what you do for your job?”

He was right, now that Kuai thought about it. Between the questions they had asked each other and the growing sexual tension between them, the nature of their work life hadn't really come up.

“I'm a writer,” he explained, trying to figure out how in depth he wanted to go. He was well known, although not to the level of being stopped in the street like Johnny was. But at the same time, a few of his books had been made into blockbuster movies. “Currently working on a first draft of my next novel, as well as helping a friend with scripting a movie based on one of my others.”

He maybe shouldn't have mentioned the last bit when he noticed how wide Rain's eyes had gone.

“Wait, one of your books is being turned into a movie?” Rain sounded completely astonished. Even as he got his key out and tried to put it in his lock he was still looking at Kuai.

“Technically it's the third to be adapted,” Kuai admitted sheepishly. He didn't usually talk much about the movies. Not because they were bad or for lack of involvement, they were actually fairly faithful and he was involved every step of the journey.

No, it was more because after learning just who was involved, people suddenly were a lot less interested in Kuai Liang and far more interested in using him to meet world famous actor Johnny Cage.

Johnny was understanding. The last thing he wanted was Kuai being hurt because someone had carelessly used him as a gateway into fame.

“Wow, holy shit, that's amazing,” Rain stated, finally looking away long enough to actually get his key in the lock. “My brother is an actor.” Kuai felt a little apprehensive. He'd heard “my family members an actor, can you get them a part” before. Kuai still followed Rain into his apartment regardless. “Well... He's been in movies... as an extra.” Rain sighed as he shut the door behind Kuai and threw his keys onto a little table beside the door. “Although the way my family talks about him, you'd think he was Johnny fucking Cage.”

Kuai laughed nervously, partially at the mention of his dear friend, and partially because Rain's tone sounded extremely bitter. I get the feeling things aren't good with his family relationships. Still at least Rain wasn't pushing to know more about the films, or if Kuai could get his brother a better role in future ones.

“So, you never told me what you do?” Kuai tried to divert the conversation as he looked around the room. Observing at Rain's furniture, he suddenly understood the comment about Kuai's matching. There was such a mismatch of different styles and patterns.

If he was completely honest it was all extremely hideous but he knew that was just his personal opinion and definitely not a welcome one.

“Oh. Uh, nothing as exciting as you, by the sounds of it,” Rain replied, walking over to a drawer in his living room, and rooting through it. “I'm a Sales and Marketing executive.” He pulled out a pizza takeaway menu. “I'm basically behind a bunch of adverts and selling our products to clients, y'know basically making sure people actually want to buy our stuff.”

“I don't know, I think that sounds extremely interesting,” Kuai said, accepting the menu when it was offered to him. He already knew what he wanted, but it didn't hurt to pretend to look. “The closest to a normal job I've ever had was when I was 16 and doing weekends at the gas station.”

“Huh, you must have lived the starving artist life for a while then?” Rain questioned, flopping down on the couch and patting the seat next to him.

“Ah, not really. I married my ex-husband at 20 and he was ridiculously rich.” Kuai absentmindedly sat down, eyes still on the menu, trying to make sure the pizza he wanted was still available. “I technically didn't have to work, but I got bored quickly, and began writing to keep myself entertained. Sent my first draft to a couple of publishers one day on a whim, lo and behold one of them loved it and the rest is history.”

“I- Oh. Your ex-husband?”

Kuai paused.

He hadn't even realised he'd mentioned his ex. Shit. It had been a slip up, not a major one mind, but enough to make him feel apprehensive. Because usually when he mentioned him, people immediately felt entitled to know why they split up. Kuai didn't enjoy talking about that with his therapist, let alone to people he barely knew.

“Yes I was married for 15 years,” he explained, “we divorced 5 years ago.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that,” Rain said sympathetically. “Why did you split?”

“We-“ Kuai stopped himself.

He was going to say they drifted apart but that just felt wrong to say. They didn't drift apart, Kuai just finally grew tired of the cycle. His husband berating and hurting him and then showering him with adoration and gifts. The promise that it would never happen again, only for a few days to go by and it to all start over. He would never forget the night he finally attempted to leave. He'd never forget hands on his chest, pushing at him and the sensation of falling down the stairs. He'd never forget waking up in the hospital to his husband swearing up and down Kuai had slipped and fell. He'd never forget the desperation he felt when he finally managed to slip the nurse a note that just read “he's lying, please help me”.

He took a deep breath, now was really not the time he wanted to talk about this.

“He just wasn't the man I thought I'd married,” he settled on.

Thankfully, Rain didn't seem to push for more info than that. Maybe it was clear the subject was too painful for small talk.

“Anyway,” he said with a cough, seemingly wanting to move on. “Did you decide what you want?”

“Vegi-surprise, please.” He passed the menu over to Rain, trying to smile and put the memories to the back of his mind.

“Vegetarian?” Rain questioned as he took the menu and got his phone out and started putting the number in.

“Ah, no, I just prefer vegetables on my pizza,” he explained, just before Rain put the phone to his ear.

He kept quiet as the order was made, wondering what the rest of the evening would bring.

“I can't believe you are partially behind that jingle,” Kuai exclaimed after swallowing a mouthful of pizza. Rain had been telling him about some of his previous advertising campaigns, and a very well known and annoying jingle for Outworld Superstores he'd had a part in creating. “It was stuck in my head for months!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Rain said with a grin. He wasn't the person who performed or wrote the jingle, but he was the one who had suggested it and given it the green light. He had been repeatedly told it had ruined people's lives with its earworm nature.

It was weird. Rain didn't consider his job exciting at all. Not that he regretted it, just normally when he talked about the ins and outs beyond specific adverts, people tended to zone out. Kuai on the other hand seemed fascinated. And here was Rain thinking he'd be the one asking all the questions about Kuai's job.

Actually, Kuai had barely talked about his work, it was a little strange. He was accomplished enough to have movies made from his books. Surely that was something to brag about? Kuai was probably just more humble than Rain could ever be. Years of his accomplishments being completely ignored in favour of his brothers meant he felt the need to be bold and push them to the front.

Now that I put it like that, maybe that is more a me issue.

He was sure Kuai would open up more as time went on. Both on his work and the mysterious ex-husband he mentioned. Rain wasn't an idiot, he could tell whatever caused them to split up was painful. He hadn't pushed, it wasn't his place. The only thing about it that bothered Rain was Tanya and Mileena's earlier warnings that Kuai might be looking for something more serious.

And 15 years sounded pretty fucking serious to Rain.

He turned to Kuai with the intention of finally bringing the subject up, only to stop when he saw the other man. He had a small amount of dip on the corner of his mouth.

“Ah, you uh- you've got a spot on you,” Rain informed him, tapping the corner of his mouth, as an opportunity came to his mind.

Kuai reached his hand and wiped his mouth, "is that better?"

Rain scooted forward, reaching a hand to Kuai's chin. "Here, let me~" he purred, before leaning in to kiss the other man.

So much for talking about things first. Kuai made a surprised huff, but it didn't take long for him to lean into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Rain's shoulders. Kuai opened his mouth and Rain took the chance to slip his tongue in. He was delighted to feel Kuai's tongue mingle with his own.

He began to shift, gently pushing Kuai back down against the couch. Rain's hands fumbled with Kuai's shirt, trying to undo the buttons. He released Kuai's lips, trailing kisses along his neck instead. Kuai moaned as Rain managed to brush aside Kuai's shirt. He pulled back slightly, just enough to observe the other man below him. Kuai was surprisingly fit, not too muscular, not too lean. His chest was covered in scars, some looked like they had potentially been from surgery, while the others he had no idea what could have caused them. Now was not the time to ask. He'd been so distracted by the scars, he'd barely registered that the other man's nipples were pierced.

Holy shit, how the hell does this man seem to fit every niche I’m into?

“God, you're so fucking hot,” he muttered, before leaning down pressing his lips between the other mans pecs.

“R-Rain,” Kuai whimpered as Rain continued to kiss down Kuai's torso. He mostly followed one of the scars that seemed to go mostly down the middle. Kuai continued to make sweet little noises, even arching his back as if to push himself closer. He continued down, meeting Kuai's navel and slipping his tongue out and swirling it around the man's belly button.

Rain searched for the buttons on Kuai's jeans, undoing them before hooking his fingers in. He lightly tugged on the item of clothing and-

He jumped a mile when his door buzzer went off.

He sat up and stared at the intercom, before looking down to Kuai Liang. His face was bright red as he looked across at the thing that had interrupted them.

“S-should you get that?” Kuai asked, looking up at him while biting his lip.

“They can wait,” Rain decided, turning to settle back between Kuai's legs. He trailed his hands down Kuai's sides, leaning down about to kiss him. He stopped when the buzzer went off again. He grit his teeth, wanting to ignore it, until the buzzer started to rapidly go off, like someone was repeatedly pushing the button in quick succession. He gave an annoyed sigh as he pushed himself up. “Sorry, I'll just deal with this.”

God he was so fucking annoyed. As he got up and walked over to the intercom, he couldn't help but mentally berate whoever was on the other end.

He clicked the button and sharply answered with “Yes? What do you want?”

“Nice to talk to you too, Ranjit,” the familiar voice spoke back. Rain mentally groaned.

“What are you doing here Taven?” He reached a hand up to rub his temples. The last thing he needed was his brother coming over to pass judgement on how this place really wasn't up to scratch.

“I mean, I am your brother,” Taven replied. “But mostly I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Can't it wait? I'm kind of in the middle of something here.” He glanced over his shoulder. Kuai was sitting up on the couch, fiddling to redo his fly up. Shit shit shit. He wasn't going to let Taven ruin this for him. Not again. He thought he was done having family members walking in on him “accidentally”.

“No not really,” Taven said, sounding annoyed. Not as annoyed as I am. “The sooner you let me up there to talk, the sooner I'll be out of your hair.”

Rain made a frustrated hand movement, before dragging it down his face and finally biting out “fine, but you'd better be quick.” He hit the button that would let the door open, waiting to give Taven enough time to get through.

He turned back to find Kuai had already done up his shirt, although he was still sitting on the couch. He looked extremely embarrassed and Rain couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

“Should I leave?” Kuai asked quietly.

“No, no, it's okay. Hopefully this'll be a few minutes tops.” Rain held his hands up, hoping it might help calm Kuai down. There was a knock on his door, and he went to open it. He was rather thankful that it was just Taven on the other side.

“So, uh, this place is where you're hiding huh?” Taven said in greeting, looking around the place like he was expecting someone to jump out at him. Rain wanted to roll his eyes so badly. “Am I allowed in?”

Rain didn't want to let him in, but he supposed it would be rude not to. He reluctantly moved aside. Taven stepped in, looking around like he was trying to scope the place out. He did a bit of a double take when he spotted Kuai.

“Oh, uh, hello?” Taven sounded confused, and Kuai looked completely out of his depth.

“Hi?” Kuai squeaked out, looking desperately towards Rain for help.

“That's my neighbour, Kuai Liang, and this is my brother, Taven,” he introduced, gesturing to each of them as he spoke.

“Oh, you didn't say you had company,” Taven said, biting his lip.

“I did say I was in the middle of something,” Rain pointed out to him, trying to not just scream in frustration.

“Uh, would- would it be better if I left?” Kuai asked again, clearly getting nervous.

“Yeah, that might be for the best,” Taven said before Rain could open his mouth to reassure Kuai it was fine.

He watched as Kuai nodded in defeat, before pushing himself up and grabbing his bag. As he made his way towards the exit, he paused briefly to give Rain a small smile.

“I'll see you later,” he whispered, before turning and leaving, closing the door behind him.

Rain just glared at Taven as he growled, “well now you've cockblocked me, you might as well tell me what the fuck you want?”

Taven shook his head in shock as he muttered “coc- huh?” He blinked a few times, “oh, my god, Ranjit, you weren't actually going to have intercourse with your neighbour were you?”

“Why do you have to refer to it like that?” Rain groaned. Why can't he just call it fucking like everyone else? “Yes, I was going to fuck him, but seeing as you've kind of ruined that plan could you please tell me why you're here?”

Taven looked like he wanted to say more on the subject of Kuai Liang, but eventually settled against it when he said “Mom's birthday party is next Friday.”

“And?” Rain rolled his hand to try and get Taven to get to the fucking point already.

“Well, I've been texting you asking if you're coming, and you've just left me on read.” Much to Rain's annoyance, Taven walked over to his kitchen, and settled down on one of the stools at the breakfast bar.

“I don't know if you know this, Tav, but I've been rather busy lately,” he snarled, while flailing his arms to the apartment around him.

“So too busy to send me a one word text, but not to try and seduce your new neighbour,” Taven replied, crossing his arms. “Seriously, you've been here two days. You don't even know the guy.”

“I know he's hot and I want to fuck his brains out, the rest is none of your fucking business,” Rain argued, storming over to the kitchen counter. “As for the party, I don't know yet.”

“She's your Mom-“

“No. She's your Mom! I'm nothing to her! The only reason I'm around her is because Dad couldn't keep his cock in his pants!”

The outburst lingered in the air, thick and heavy. It was a button Rain hated being pressed, Taven knew it was and yet he still insisted on bringing it up. In Delia's defence, on some level she had tried to be a supportive step-mother to Rain. It was clear, however, that her priority lay with her biological children. He knew that on some level she resented him, the constant reminder of her husband's betrayal.

He supposed she had at least tried, unlike his father.

He closed his eyes in defeat as he mumbled out, “when is it?”

“Next Friday at 6.” Taven was still looking at his hands. “If it helps, you can bring a plus one.”

“Fine, I'll be there,” he whispered, still not closing his eyes. He had a feeling Mileena and Tanya were busy next Friday, he might have to hunt for another plus one. “And I'll be with someone.”

“Thank you.” Rain opened his eyes, and hated how genuinely grateful Taven looked. “I know she'll be happy to see you there.”

I doubt that.

“Was there anything else?” Rain asked, rubbing his face with his hand.

“No, I guess I'll leave you be,” Taven jumped off the seat and began to walk towards the door. “But, promise me that you'll be careful with the neighbour thing?” Rain just furrowed his brow at him. “We've been here before Ranjit. You rush into things, it's great for a while and in the end everyone just gets burned because they want commitment you can't offer them.” Taven reached to place a hand on Rain's shoulder. “I know it doesn't feel like it sometimes, but I do care about you and I don't like seeing you get hurt.”

There were so many things Rain wanted to say about that, but just couldn't. He resigned himself and just said “I'll be careful.”

Taven just nodded, wishing him a final farewell and then he was thankfully gone. As he closed the door, Rain rested his forehead against the door, resisting the urge to slam his head against it repeatedly.

Kuai sat on his couch, staring silently at his TV, despite it being turned off. He was more watching himself in the reflection. He was rubbing his fingers across his lips repeatedly, trying to soothe his nerves.

Rain had seemed very upset to see his brother. He wasn't sure if he should have stayed as a mediator, or if he'd made the right call by leaving them to it. Either way, it seemed his talk with Rain was going to have to wait. Well, not that it seemed talking was where things had been going.

It had been 5 years since Kuai last had sex. He’d thought about it a few times, but never worked up the courage. The way Rain kissed him, touched his body. He couldn’t believe how good he felt. It wasn’t until he was in that moment that he realised how much he missed that kind of intimacy. Even when he was married, that softness was limited to his ex’s good days, that man was a very selfish lover.

He didn’t want to think about that, he wanted to think about how wonderful it had felt for Rain to touch him.

So much for talking about things though. He sighed, and rubbed at his face. All it took was a kiss and I was spreading my legs for the guy. It did rather indicate that Rain was more interested in something casual, or at least, more interested in the sex aspect. If that was indeed the case, Kuai could handle that.

He jumped a mile when he heard a knock on his door. He scrambled to get up and rushed over to it. As he expected, once he opened it, there was Rain, looking extremely apologetic.

“I am so sorry,” Rain immediately told him before Kuai could even begin to utter a word. Kuai simply smiled and stepped aside to let him in.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kuai tried to assure him, shutting the door as Rain entered the apartment. He felt a flutter in his chest, realising it was probably going to be now or never in regard to that talk. “Um… So, I think now would probably be a good time to have that conversation.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.” Shang Tsung reached up to rub his face with his hand. “Um. Shall I go first?” Kuai nodded in confirmation. Honestly even bringing it up first was a big step for him, he didn’t think he could handle going first as well. “What exactly do you want from… whatever this is?” Rain gestured towards the both of them as he spoke.

So, we wanted to talk about the same thing. Funny.

“That is what I wanted to discuss with you too, actually.” Kuai began to rub at his wrist, swallowing as he tried to think of how to explain. “I’ll be honest, I was hoping for something… casual.”

“Casual?” Rain asked, tilting his head. He didn’t look put off though, more hopeful if Kuai was reading him right.

“I don’t think I’m really ready for anything extremely committed.” Kuai bit his lip, trying to ignore how hard his heart was beating. Even though Rain showed no sign of being upset by this, the little voice in Kuai’s head wouldn’t stop telling him the other man was going to leave and never talk to him again over this. “I’d like a companion but not a partner… I don’t know if that makes sense?”

“No, no, that makes perfect sense.” Rain stepped forward, taking Kuai’s hand in his. “That’s what I’m wanting too. Just someone to have fun with.”

“Oh.” Kuai chuckled awkwardly. “Well now I feel stupid for being worried.”

“Pth, don’t. My friends kinda got in my head about how you’d probably want something more serious.” Rain rubbed the back on his neck and gave a handsome smile. “So, uh, something like friends with benefits good for you?”

Kuai laughed. Aren’t I a little old to be having friends with benefits? Still, it did sound nice. He didn’t really get to have the awkward early adult phase, it’d be nice to experience a little of what that would have been like. Even if he was about 20 years too late.

“Friends with benefits sounds perfect to me.”

He was surprised when Rain suddenly took hold of his hips and pulled them close. Kuai giggled as their lips almost touched.

“Well then, with that out of the way, where were we?”

Kuai felt a little bold, confidence brought on by the previous conversation, bringing his arms up and around Rain’s neck. He felt Rain pushing him backwards until his back hit the wall. How he resisted the urge to grind against him he had no idea. Rain’s lips were on his, and he opened them hoping for their tongues to meet again. He quite enjoyed that the first time.

It really should not have surprised Kuai when a ringtone started to sound from Rain’s pocket.

Rain pulled away, and grimaced. “I cannot believe this.”

“I’d have thought after yesterday, you’d have learnt to leave your phone behind,” Kuai teased a little, snorting when Rain pouted at him.

“You would have thought I'd have learnt my lesson, wouldn’t you?” He sighed and reached into his pocket, frowning at his phone. “I have to take this.”

Kuai nodded as Rain stepped back and answered the phone. He just stood and watched as the other man got more and more exacerbated. There was a part of Kuai that felt sorry for him, being interrupted yet again, but the other part of him that felt a little bitter that he hadn’t done the obvious of leaving the stupid device behind this time.

By the time Rain was done with the conversation, it was clear he was more than a little annoyed by it.

“Work?” Kuai gently asked, and Rain gave him an apologetic look.

“Unfortunately.” He grimaced and shook his head. “The universe really does not want me to fuck you.”

Kuai laughed despite the situation. It really seemed that tonight was not going to be the night again. But there would always be more opportunities.

“It’s okay, I understand.” Kuai pushed himself away from the wall, stepping forward and giving Rain a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise I will still be here tomorrow.”

Rain nodded, not hiding the somewhat goofy smile on his face from Kuai’s display of affection.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Rain assured him, patting his arm slightly. All Kuai could do was sigh as Rain made his way back to the door.

As soon as it shut behind him, Kuai flopped backwards against the wall, letting himself slide down it and staring at the ceiling. Honestly, if he were a little more superstitious, he’d genuinely think the constant interruptions were the doing of Bi-Han’s ghost. Big brother always was very protective, and a little too distrustful of just about anyone who found Kuai attractive.

It was a shame he wasn’t there to stop Kuai from getting married. He was certain if Bi-Han were still alive, none of the terrible things that happened would have. He’d have beat the shit out of his ex the second he suspected so much as a finger had been laid on Kuai’s body.

But Bi-Han hadn’t been there, and he wasn’t here now. Kuai just had to believe that all of this wasn’t some kind of bad omen. Like the universe was trying to stop it from happening to protect him.

Not like the universe protected me before.

He was due to see Johnny again tomorrow, and work together on the next script. He was generally pretty decent at relationship advice. Maybe I should ask him tomorrow? At least get some idea on what to expect and how to maintain the boundaries to keep them both safe.

Until then, well, the whole experience was starting to give him creative inspiration. He finally stood up, and rushed over to where his laptop was, determined to write some notes before he forgot everything he’d just experienced and felt.

⋞ Previous Chapter ≛❀≛ Next Chapter ⋟

#mortal kombat #kuai liang #sub zero #rain #mk rain #subrain #🏢i wanna i wanna stay ‘til the end

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doctorofmagic · 3 years

Text

My thoughts on What If... Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The very title of the episode sends a shiver down my spine. And this is where we’re going to start.

~ long post under the cut ~

A year ago, I wrote this post as an attemp to dive into one of the most important traits in Doctor Strange’s personality: love. Stephen is a being made of love, made to love, no matter which interpretation you have when you watch Infinity War. If you don’t read comic books, you’ll understand the moment you meet Donna. You’ll begin to understand how her death reshaped his entire subjectivity out of fear of failing, being powerless and unable to control everything around him (especially death), thus the arrogant and yet a disaster of a man we all know.

Where do I even start? Stephen loved her sister deeply and felt responsible for her death. And then, slowly, he also lost his parents and his brother. He fell in love with Clea but he also pushed her away. He loved Zelma platonically and lied to her, which was enough for them to break their bond. He felt attracted to Kanna but screwed things up, even though they remain friends. He was forced to kill the Ancient One, the only father figure he had ever since his father died. And lastly, the only person who would never leave his side... also left. Yes, even Wong. Stephen has SO much love to give but he’s also afraid because he’s cursed. He truly believes his love in poison. And would you look at that? What If really delivered a story where this is actually true.

What If Doctor Strange Lost His Heart Instead of His Hands?

The level of understanding when it comes to the character is... inconceivable. What could possibly reshape Stephen into following a dark path but love? The very premise of the whole episode. This is so much more than a love letter. This is literally too much, in all senses.

Fine, let’s begin.

What if the best of intentions has very strange consequences?

No. You used the word “strange” for the pun but this is not the word. Nah-ah. I’d go with ATROCIOUS, for starters. Things are gonna escalate so quickly, my friends.

Seriously, tho? Christine is SO SO SO SO beautiful, they’re so cute together. I have this feeling that MCU!Stephen was quite toxic because of his arrogance and this is why they didn’t work out. But WhatIf!Stephen???????? He’s always praising her, teasing her in a healthy way, respecting her and listening to her. HE TRULY LOVES HER, I’M GONNA CRY ALL OVER AGAIN, PLEASE, NOT THE CRÈME BRÛLÉE, PLEASE

I’m going to leave this shot here because we need to go back to it later. Hold that thought.

And bonus points to “Yeah, well, I would call that quite remarkable.” / “Well, I would say the same about you.”

GODS. THE PAIN. STOP THE PAIN.

So in this reality, Stephen didn’t caused the car accident because he was checking his phone while driving. Also it was not the reckless attempt to pass the truck. Well, maybe it was the consequence of this act? The fact is, the car behind them loses control, which makes them crash. Does it matter? We’ll learn later that no, it doesn’t.

And yep... Christine dies. Have you noticed the shattered heart? Ah, the pain only gets better and better.

Again, Stephen blames himself. More than anything, this is so important because Stephen is all about guilt. We still need to meet Donna so we can add yet another layer of guilt. But the feeling exists. This is what corrupts Stephen’s heart and soul in all his iterations. This is what makes him the character I love so much. I love this SO. MUCH. In addition, his stubbornness to accept his condition. Man won’t take a no. This, this is Doctor Strange in character. Stop complaining about NWH Stephen, it’s pathetic.

Okay, “grief-stricken”, Stephen found the Mystic Arts and became a sorcerer. That’s when he learned about the Time Stone, the Eye of Agamotto and Dormammu. Nothing changes, he saves the universe. But time does not heal his deepest wound.

I love Wong so much. Every time Wong does something, the world is healed. Really. We’re going back to him as well but for now I’ll just leave this shot.

BUT STEPHEN, DOING SOMETHING RECKLESS? HE’D NEVAH

Aaaaaaaannnnnnd then he did.

He goes back in time. It’s been two years since he lost Christine. I think he reacted pretty nicely, despite the circumstances. Now let’s go back to that shot I said I was saving for later.

Stephen is so light-hearted here. Also, during the first time he lost Christine, he had no idea what “The Price is Right” was. He knows now, which means he probably tried to learn more about the show because of her, because of grief. HAHAHA MORE PAIN

AND THEN HE

AND THEN SHE DIES AGAIN

AND THEN HE KEEPS GOING BACK IN TIME

AND SHE KEEPS DYING

AND THE MUSIC

AND HIS VOICE

AND HE TRIES TO CHANGE FATE BUT IT CAN’T BE AVERTED

HE EVEN TRIES TO STAY AWAY FROM HER LIFE BUT SHE DIES ALL THE SAME, WHY

AND EVERY TIME THEY CRASH, HE FEELS THE PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL PAIN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN, WHY

I’M-- *ugly sobbing noises*

Apparently, not.

And this scene when he simply... closes his eyes before she dies again...?

This is where this episode had me in endless tears. It got me the four times I watched it. I’m dead serious.

Okay, so, next the Ancient One appears to Stephen, explaining that Christine’s death is an Absolute Point in time. It cannot be changed. Stephen needs the accident to become the Sorcerer Supreme and defeat Dormammu.

And this is where Stephen starts his journey into darkness. “Nothing is impossible, you taught me that. I only require more power.” Disobeying the Ancient One, Stephen then travels in time, seeking the Library of Cagliostro. Now, if you’re not aware of that, Cagliostro was a sorcerer who studied time in comics, and later became Sise-Neg (there’s a recent post on this because of the new Defenders run). It’s funny to think that Sise-Neg also destroyed the world when he became a god, however he grew past his pettiness and remade reality. Stephen did not possess such power, as we’re about to see.

PS: “Stop torturing yourself, Stephen.” Naur but he should use this line like a mantra. Especially comics!Stephen.

Not gonna lie, tho. This place reminds me of the Temple of the Vishanti from T&T (of course I was going to insert T&T somewhere, it’s me).

And of course they’d go for a pun with his name haha. I don’t know how to feel about this, tho. I feel like the episode is too heavy and dark for comedy. But it is what it is.

Okay but why some books are in cages??????????? And wow, it seems Cagliostro also gathered knowledge about several fields of magic.

And then Stephen learns that, in order to break an Absolute Point, he needs to absorb more power. This is when I went “oh-oh, here we go”.

And for real, is this Shuma-Gorath? Why are they keeping his name a secret? Is this the same creature from the first episode with Captain Carter, right? RIGHT? It has to be Shuma-Gorath.

Of course he tries to be polite and ends up all hurt haha. O’Bengh warns him about love but he will not listen. “Love can break more than your heart. It can shatter your mind.”/ “Is she worth the pain?”. Please, this is Stephen. He eats pain for breakfast.

Also, also, let’s take a break. We’re finally going to get monsterf0cker tentacle-lover Stephen Strange. It will cost us everything but here we goooooooooooo (yes, I went frame by frame for your more obscure fanservice needs)

Gods, I love this sequence so much it hurts. Okay, here we go.

Shmebulock???????????

AND HE STOLE THE CAPE??????????? AND DREW THE LINE ON BUGS??????

The grasp this man is holding on me right now...

Some of you will understand. I’m with you.

And here are the grostesque ones. These are hard to take SS but I had to.

Animation, sound effects, OST? CHEF’S KISS TO ALL

And lastly... the tentacles. Yeah, if you’re new... this is a thing.

Fanservice. Fanservice everywhere. (low-key the reason I also waited to write this review, I wanted to enjoy this part so badly but I was too sad for that lmao)

Okay so. O’Bengh is suddenly OLD and DYING, until we realize that Stephen spent CENTURIES absorbing mystic beings. CENTURIES. WTF STEPHEN. He had nothing in mind but the goal to save Christine. And people wonder why he went insane???? I’m sorry, O’Bengh, but I can’t take you serious when you still call Stephen Sorcerer Armani. Oh, and also because you watched him absorb beings for centuries in silence lmao. But I guess I have to because you said that Stephen is split in two since the Ancient One cast a spell on him, splitting the timelines and making them exist in the same reality before he could travel back in time. I know, it’s complex. Anything for the plot.

And now good!Stephen has an evil!twin who wants to absorb him back in order to become whole and break the Absolute Point. Cool.

I said I wanted to talk more about Wong because I think people are not talking about him enough. Wong is so important in this episode. He’s the one who’s trying to heal Stephen after Christine. He’s Stephen’s anchor.

Also, THEY FINALLY USED A SPELL WITH THE NAME OF THE VISHANTI. HOORAAAAY

So, for the sake of our understanding, I’m addressing the characters as evil and good!Stephen. Let’s go. Evil!Stephen summons good!Stephen and gods, he still holds such a strong grasp on me... unbelievable. THE DEEPER VOICE BENEDICT USES???? PLEASE, DIDN’T WE HAVE ENOUGH?

Imagine his strength to hold so many beings inside him, fighting to control him. BRO, THIS IS TOO TOO MUCH

Fine, I’ll not post SS about the fight because I’d be here all night long but I WILL say this: NOT CLOAKIE!!!!! NAAAAAAAAAAUR

Also if you ask me if I recognize any of the spells? Maaaaybe the Flames of Faltine, the not-so-crimson Bands of Cyttorak and a little trick Magik does with her portals. That’s how far I go.

I’ll not comment on the “seducing yourself to stay in the trap”. I will not. I’ll just say that the first person Stephen thought of when “Christine” was talking about the crème brûlée was Wong. That’s it.

And finally evil!Stephen absorbs good!Stephen and releases... UNLIMITED POWER (I love when the stone goes red as if it was bleeding aaaaaaa)

I can fix him...

This scene here? Poetic cinema. (I love his wings so much)

And when Stephen says her name and the other monsters’ voices echo “Christine”, AAAAAACKKKK

AND OF COURSE CHRISTINE WOULD FREAK OUT, BRO. LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE BECOME BECAUSE OF YOUR TWISTED LOVE. I’M NOT DOING FINE.

Oh, but it’s too late anyways because Stephen broke reality haha. This scene is interesting because Stephen is the only one who sensed and/or talked to the Watcher until now. I read an interview that the Watcher kinda showed up but it’s also about Stephen’s keen senses. Bit of both, let’s say. Still, man, 616-Watcher is not that cold. 616-Watcher would watch this and say “how about I intervene anyway?”. WhatIf!Watcher is brutal.

The way Christine looks at Stephen one last time also KILLS ME, DESTROYS ME, BREAK ME INTO A MILLION PIECES.

And this is where my soul left my body.

This is how they end the episode. This is how you leave me speechless and with teary eyes. This is how you give me a whole existential crisis.

This... this was brutal to watch. Really.

What can I say after this? I’m used to reading painful things when it comes to Stephen. Aaron’s and Cates’ runs are heartbreaking on so many levels. Hickman’s New Avengers is not easier. Coincidentally, What If? Magik Became Sorcerer Supreme and The End. And now Death of Doctor Strange. And yet, after everything I’ve been through, I’d never expect to watch something so brilliant, so tragic, so heartbreaking and unexpected in the MCU. Never. This is top tier content and this is my favorite character with SO MANY LAYERS and SO MUCH UNDERSTANDING. I can’t put into words how meaningful this whole episode is to me, or how deep it touched my heart and soul.

I’ve been struggling to find the proper words since then, I still can’t. All I can add is, I cried for the 4th time now. This is too, too much, even for Stephen stans. Even for the ones who are used to pain, regardless of which media you’re into: comic books, live actions or animated movies. This is literally more than I can take and yet I’m so, so grateful. The voice acting, gods, how did Benedict manage to create a better Stephen than the one he’s literally playing in real life???????????? HOW

This episode really took the max potential Stephen had to offer as a character, added tons and tons of layers based on his grief, depression, arrogance and need to control everything and created a tragic masterpiece. In 7 years of being a Doctor Strange fan, I've never read or watch something that could go this deep into the character. The closest I can think of is Mr. Misery and the metaphor of Stephen's depression. This is a whole new level of respect and understanding. This is more than a love letter. This is peak maestry. It’s perfect, it’s heartbreaking, it’s... gods, I can’t.

Sorry for dragging you until this far. Before I wrap up this review, I just wanted to remind you all that Stephen will appear again, he will smile again, he will be surrounded by people again. So this is not the end. It was painful but be brave. We still have a few more steps to take.

#what if...?#doctor strange #stephen strange #what if doctor strange lost his heart instead of his hands?#wong #christine palmer #the ancient one #long post #review #he did nothing wrong #so what? he destroyed a whole universe #/j #benedict cumberbatch

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retrogalwrites · 3 years

Text

Title: “Shigaraki and the perfect girl” / see on ao3

Pairing: Incel!Shigaraki x f!reader

Summary: Shigaraki has a crush on what seems to be the perfect girl who everyone loves, and becomes obsessed with the idea of corrupting her.

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, virginity fetishization, dub con, creepy behavior, stalking, manipulation and somnophilia with a twist

Contents: creampie, vaginal sex, breeding kink, scent kink (in a gross way), mating press, slight dumbification, corruption kink

Word: 4873

Shigaraki had been watching you from the very beginning, all through your high school years. It hadn't been much of his fault, he always told himself, when your existence alone did nothing but to stand out.

You had always been the center of attention, the most popular girl in the entire school, little Miss Perfect. With your good grades, unrivaled beauty, hordes of friends, admired by all students and professors alike. Being always so kind and innocent, with a friendly demeanor towards everyone, including an unwanted outcast like Shigaraki.

On his end, he had always been the creepy one, the strange one, the antisocial one that sneered at others and cursed them under his breath. Everyone avoided him like the plague, at least whenever they weren't too busy tormenting him, all too eager to remind him of how unwanted he was.

The complete opposite of you, Shigaraki was a social pariah.

On your third year, whenever other students would bully him publicly, give him looks and tell him how gross and disgusting he looked, you always had to come right to his rescue.

"Stop it, guys! That's no way to treat someone." You'd say softly, standing between him and his tormentors like some kind of protector. "Leave him alone, would you?"

And they couldn't say 'no' to you, no one could. Reluctantly they would give in to your heartfelt request and leave him be, those fools always dancing on the palm of your hand, but who could blame them? The hottest girl in class, lusted after by every boy in school, including Shigaraki himself, there was no way anyone could resist doing whatever you wanted them to. So pretty, so sweet, so perfect.

You had it all so easy, didn't you?

Shigaraki hated you for that, deeply and passionately loathed your very existence, a resentment that only grew stronger every time you would turn around, with that expression full of concern, to ask if he was okay.

Yes, he hated you for that. He also desired you for that, adored you in fact, wanted you as badly as any other buffoon in your class did. But not in the same way as them. No, when you looked at him with those sparkly eyes, pouting lips, leaning over his desk to give him an eyeful of your chest straining against the fabric of your school uniform, the feelings that stirred inside him were ugly and suffocating, something too depraved to be love.

When the other guys glared at him for having your attention even for a minute, it made his heart beat faster, it made his blood boil as his hands itched to grab you and destroy you, bend you over his desk and tainting every corner of your body right in front of them.

"You're lucky [name] takes pity on your sorry ass, Shigaraki." One of his bullies would scoff, once you were out of earshot.

"I didn't fucking ask her to. Maybe the bitch has crush on me, huh?" He'd spat back with vitriol, just to be met with a kick to the shin. As he hunched over in pain, he'd always hear those same words.

"Know your damn place, freak. A crush? Please, she's too perfect for you."

And they were right, so very right, but it only made Shigaraki want you more, more, more. His infatuation was warped with the thought of revenge, the desire of getting back at everyone by taking you away for himself, and to get back at you simply for daring to exist.

So Shigaraki would curse you in his mind, every single day, and then every night he'd spent it pleasuring himself to fantasies of you, sometimes holding the items he had stolen from you in the past (a gym shirt, your lip balm, the pencil you'd chew on during class). Creating scenarios where he'd get you alone to taint you, destroy you, turn you into dust and ashes with his own hands until he had dragged you down to his own level: a freak, a pariah, the lowest of the low.

If only he had the guts to do it, if only he could admit to himself that he wanted to do it at all, for real.

—————

After graduation, not seeing you for the following months pushed his mind deeper into that brewing obsession, drove him mad with it.

Shigaraki stalked your social media, watching his phone all day to make sure he didn't miss any of your publications and updates, downloading every selfie you uploaded to keep for himself and fap to later. His infatuation had been growing more and more out of control with each passing day, you invaded his thoughts every waking hour.

And yet Shigaraki told himself that it was really only a coincidence that he had ended up in the same college as you. Despite having read through a conversation on the comments from one of your posts on your Instagram a month or so before graduating, about your college prospects. Despite writing down those prospects to later tell his school advisor that he wanted to get into that same school. Despite having begged his father to send him there despite the inconvenient distance away from home in his daily commute, despite having chosen a major he didn't care about just to be in the same class as you.

His self-denial kept that obsession barely restrained, keeping it from pouring out into reality, and you also had to ruin that.

"Tomura!" You had approached him on the first day at campus, excitedly calling his name with such familiarity. The sound made his breath hitch and his cock twitch inside his pants, stomach fluttering.

"Oh, umm...hey." He chewed on his chapped lip, looking away as he lied through his teeth. "Didn't expect to see Miss Perfect here, of all people."

Despite of his dismissive tone being cold as ice, you kept smiling at him, only laughing as if he had been joking.

"It's so good to see a familiar face, you know? Come, sit next to me!!" You had grabbed his hand without a second thought, pulling him along with you into the classroom. People already whispering just from seeing you two walking together hand in hand: a breathtaking beauty like you and him, a disheveled mess, who had been wearing the same dirty hoodie for already a week.

Yet you didn't let go of his hand, even when he had already started to sweat and his palm got all clammy against yours, you didn't let go. The thought of rubbing off his filth onto your skin filled him with joy.

You really were a fucking idiot.

Holding hands with your stalker so casually, with the guy that wanted to ravish you in a dark corner, break you with his cock until you were screaming his name, and make you beg for your life like a pathetic bitch. Yes, that's what he wanted to do, more than anything in the world. He wanted to destroy you, to violate you, to break you, to make you his. Those weren't fantasies, it was reality.

Shigaraki used that same hand to jerk himself off that night in his dorm, imagining that it was you being forced to stroke his throbbing cock. He imagined that you would be so disgusted by his filthy self, your clear skin getting all of his dirt rubbed all over, fat tears streaming down your face as he forced you to open your mouth and take him in until you chocked on his cock.

Soon enough, he was thrusting into his fist, cumming all over himself until his cock softened, and his hands and abdomen were covered in his sticky semen.

What would you do if you found out that the guy you had been so kind to all these years wanted to hurt you so badly? Shigaraki imagined the despair on your face, and soon he was hard again.

—————

For most people, life after high school plays differently. Once you get to college, popularity contests become a thing of the past...but not for you, it seemed. During that first semester, Shigaraki had to watch how everyone around you was back to fawning all over you. Stumbling over themselves to ask you out to parties and dates (how many times did he overhear guys talking about what they wanted to with your tits and ass?), professors favoring you for your perfect grades, everyone adoring you as the perfect girl once again.

He was still an unwanted pariah, ignored by everyone, looked at with scorn by others. Except whenever you gave him your attention, of course, only then did people want to get all buddy-buddy probably hoping to get to you with his help.

God. He fucking hated you. And he fucking wanted you.

One day, he finally snapped.

Shigaraki decided that he was going to have you before anyone else got the chance to put their hands on you, the perfect girl that everyone loved so much, would belong to the guy everyone hated.

He was going to tear you down once and for all, like you deserved, for living all these years with a silver spoon in your mouth having it all so damn easy. Wipe off that smile off your face, take it for himself, and make sure you were sullied, miserable, broken.

So, Shigaraki planned his next actions very carefully then. For a whole month, he tried to be more open towards you, more friendly, taking advantage of how kind you had always been towards him despite of the dismissive way he always had treated you with. Despite his awkwardness at it too, something that anyone else would've been turned off by already, but you took his attempts with endearment.

It pleased him, how you fell for it so easily, excited to see him reciprocate your attempts at friendship, the excitement on your face whenever you two were paired together for a project or study sessions.

You were so innocent, and so stupid. He truly loved you.

—————

Shigaraki couldn't believe his luck, the day after an assignment when he got you to come with him to his dorm to start working on how you were going to plan around the workload.

His dorm room was, admittedly, filthy. Unwashed clothes and trash scattered everywhere all over the floor, wraps of junk food and snacks hastily piled on an full trash bin in the corner. Anime figurines, video games, and posters decorated the shelves and the walls. The only spot that was kind of well kept was his gaming corner, with his pc and monitors all sparkly clean. He knew it was a shameful way to live, and he excitedly looked at your face hoping to see any semblance of disgust towards it. The lack of it, made Shigaraki frown.

"Err...sorry, I didn't know you were coming so I didn't clean up the place." He feigned concern, trying to edge a reaction out of you.

"That's ok, sorry for barging in." You gave an understanding smile.

Shigaraki's twisted resolve only became stronger. He was going to wipe that smile off your face, and that thought echoed in his mind on repeat for the following hour you two sat down to work.

Though, of course, his attention was not in the books in front if him. Shigaraki was too focused on the fact you were sitting on his bed, your bare things peaking underneath your skirt making direct contact with his dirty bedsheets.

Could you even begin to imagine that those bedsheets were stained with cum from his daily fapping? That he furiously had been jerking himself off to you for months in that same bed? His blood had begun to run towards his loins, and his cock was starting to strain against his jeans. Shigaraki had to cover himself with the textbook as to not to give himself away.

"Tomura, can we take a break? I'm getting tired." You yawned some time later, putting the book away and stretching your arms above your head. An action that gave Shigaraki a perfect view of your pretty curves, the way your tits heaved slightly as you pushed your chest forward, and a flash of midriff peaked from underneath your top.

"We still got a lot to do, dumbass." He curtly replied, pretending he wasn't leering.

You pouted, like a brat. He couldn't understand how you got such good grades when you could be this lazy sometimes. "Please, just fifteen minutes?"

He pretended to think about it, before shrugging at you begrudgingly. "Alright, just stop looking at me like that."

With a pleased, cheeky smile, you let your back fell on his mattress. Something that actually took him by surprise, Shigaraki watched in disbelief how you bounced on his bed, thighs and tits jiggling. You yawned again as you curled into a ball, he wondered if you even noticed how he ran his tongue over his dry lips. Were you really going to make it this easy for him? Were you that stupid?

"Wake me up in fifteen minutes." and you closed your eyes.

"Sure thing." He couldn't stop his lips from stretching into a huge, sinister smile.

—————

Shigaraki had never been a patient man, but he exercised all of the patience he had within him just to wait out the agonizingly slow seconds as you gradually fell asleep. He kept his eyes glued on your laying form through the first five minutes, casually but excitedly palming his erection through his jeans as he watched you fall asleep. He waited, and waited, silently observing your breathing until it fell into slow, regular rhythm. Soft snoring sounds purred from your throat, leaving your lips.

His cock was so fucking hard it hurt.

Hesitantly, Shigaraki called your name once in a hushed voice, then twice a little bit louder, and when he got no response from you, he knew that the time he had waited for all those years had finally come.

The time to break you.

The beating of his heart hammered loudly in his ears, as Shigaraki crawled over the bed towards you. His weight shifted the shape of the mattress, so he moved as slowly as his desperation allowed him to, as to not wake you up yet. Positioning himself above you, his legs straddled you underneath him as he unbuckled his pants and pulled out his throbbing erection, veiny shaft all with the head red and swollen, looking like he was about to burst. Then, supporting himself on his knees, he leaned back for a moment just to take in the wonderful sight you made.

Spread on his filthy bed, so comfortably on your back, breathing through lush parted lips. The girl chased after by everyone at school, they all would've killed to be in his place and to see you like this, to have you like this. Looking so small, so fragile, so defenseless, so fucking perfect.

Years of abstinence came down crashing all at once and Shigaraki's depravity took a hold of him completely, and it felt damn good.

His lips came down to cover yours with such pathetic urgency, Shigaraki crushed your soft body underneath his larger, even if skinny, frame. Dry and chapped lips devoured the softness of yours, and they tasted so sweet and creamy, exactly the same flavor of lip balm he had stolen from you back in high school. God, he could feel your heavy, round tits pressing against his chest, his erect cock rubbing needy against the snug gash of your clothed crotch, the engorged head poking at your entrance like he was in heat like a dog, shuddering violently at the stimulation. He moaned loudly against your mouth, forcing his tongue between your teeth and into your sweet mouth, as drool trailed down the corners of his mouth and smearing against your pristine skin. God, he forgot to brush his teeth after his morning coffee, his mouth was surely filthy...not like it even mattered to him anyway. Neither did it matter that he was going to wake you up like that, he indulged on tasting you completely. In fact, he anticipated to watch you wake up, and realize what a stupid bitch you had been.

Bringing his hands to your face, he forced your mouth to press harder against his as he kissed you so sloppily, his throbbing erection rutting against your core.

"(Name)...oh fuck, (Name)..." He whined against your lips. Just a virgin that he was, Shigaraki couldn't help that the mere stimulation of your clothed pussy-mound rubbing on his bare cock was really firing him up, pushing him so much that he was creaming his pants already. He shuddered, muscles tensing as the head of his cock spurted huge jets if his smelly, sticky cum all over the front of your skirt and your thighs.

He breathed heavily, looking at the mess he made.

Then he heard you call out to him, and the sound of your voice was anything but distressed, or even angry.

Instead, you sounded disappointed.

"Aww, you already came?" His eyes shot to your face. You were wide awake, face flushed as you stared at him through fluttering lashes and glossy eyes, the expression of someone who was throughly aroused. Shigaraki was the one struck by shock, and confusion.

"Tomura, I can't believe you are such a quick shot. I was looking forward to this, you know?" Your disappointment somehow puzzled him more than the sheer anger of being called out for his quick ejaculation, and that was impressive on itself. His expression made you giggle.

"What the fuck are you laughing for?!" He growled with bared teeth, his hands moving to your writs to restrain them above your head, crushing you with his body again. You whined, not in fear, but need.

He couldn't begin to understand what was happening. You weren't freaking out, you weren't crying, you weren't despairing.

"Do you understand what is happening here? I'm assaulting you, stupid bitch!" He lost his cool so quickly.

"Of course I know." Speaking in a whisper, your back arched, pressing yourself further against Shigaraki, raising your thighs to catch his cock between the soft flesh of your exposed, sticky thighs. He hissed through his teeth, the touch easily making his cock spring back to life, harder than before.

"Tomura, you've always been a creep." For the first time, your voice sounded harsh, condescending.

And disgusted.

Finally, that disgusted look. Shigaraki stared at you with a burning gaze through red eyes, mouth agape at the sound of those words being uttered by you, that look on your face that he had wanted to see for the longest time. His cock twitched, a spurt of cum drooling down the tip and getting on your exposed panties. The feeling made you shudder, your things squeezing his cock between them again. His back arched, hands restraining you gripped your wrists tighter, he cursed at how fucking good it felt.

"But I always liked that about you, honestly! How gross you are, how dirty and smelly you are, you are always so mean to me too! I wanted you to take me like this by force one day."

"You...wanted this to happen?" Shigaraki was starting to understand, though none of it made sense. You snorted, giving him a suddenly smug grin that made his blood boil.

"I always hoped it would." A candid confession, your own breathing had become erratic, the euphoria of pouring out your deepest secrets. "It always made me feel so hot to imagine that you fucked me and made me all dirty and disgusting, that you turned me into a freak like you."

It sounded like pure bullshit, and yet the genuine honesty in your voice left no room to question it. The reality you presented him with had shattered his own. And it made him so damn angry and so fucking turned on. He felt all light-headed suddenly, like he was in a dream.

"So you've been fucking with me all this time?! Is that it, you damn bitch?!"

One of his hands roughly grabbed your throat, fingers circling the frail column of bone and squeezing hard, you gasped at the sudden pressure keeping you from breathing. You stared up at him. His gaze bore into yours, face inching closer to snarl with pure, scorching fury.

And yet you still looked so ecstatic, a lewd expression that couldn't be further from that angelic, innocent look everyone always said made you so perfect. You looked absolutely wicked in that moment.

"Yes...I have." You spoke through labored breaths, clawing and the hand around your throat. "You fucking...disgusting...creep."

Shigaraki realized then, that you hadn't ever been perfect, in fact, you had been the same as him from the beginning. A depraved fucking mess.

And he hated you for that, loved you for that.

Shigaraki then let go of both your wrist and neck, slipping his leaking cock away from your thighs as he leaned back on his knees. Gasping for oxygen, your head already felt light by the time you felt your clothes being violently ripped off from your body, blouse and skirt tearing away and being thrown behind Shigaraki's towering frame, leaving you in only your underwear.

The frilly, see-through thing that looked more like lingerie. God, you really were such a fucking freak, weren't you?

Shigaraki's hands went to unclip your bra that so luckily opened at the front. Throwing the item with the thorn pile of your other clothes. The sight of your bare tits bouncing in front if him was like out of his deepest fantasies, and Shigaraki didn't wait a second longer to roughly squeeze your breasts in his calloused hands, taking handfuls of the supple mounds of flesh he had always dreamed to grope. They felt full and heavy in his palms, fingers sinking into their softness, and seeing the way you mewled when his thumbs teased the hardening nubs of your nipples, making you softly moan his name, Shigaraki lost it.

His mouth attacked one of your nipples, mouth latching to the puffy areolae and teeth sinking into the flesh as he sucked hard and desperate. Your reaction was immediate, hands tangling into his messy white hair and fingers pulling at his scalp, mouth parted to mewl his name in pain and delight. He kept suckling at your breasts, hungry and rough like he was hoping to suck milk out of them, the other hand already playing with the other breast, mercilessly pulling and twisting your hard nipple, bruising the tender skin.

"Tomura wait — ooh!!" Your body trembled as you whined out his name, another wave of pleasurable pain hitting you when Shigaraki squeezed your breasts together and brought both nipples into his greedy mouth. Sucking at them and lapping at the pebbled skin with his tongue, until your were squirming underneath him like a needy little whore.

One of his hands delved down to your panties, the thin string that held them up all to easy to break with one powerful tug. You gasped, a sound that turned into a loud scream when you felt his fingers teasing the hot wetness of your pussy lips, before he buried one digit into your core, testing your insides.

"Oh fuck..." You breathed, biting your lip, feeling him experimentally finger your inner walls. Shigaraki was fascinated at how hot and slick you felt inside, your fleshy walls sucking around his fingers so tightly that he wanted to stuff his cock inside that hole now, now, now.

He let go of your nipples with a lewd pop, spit dribbling down the abused skin. "Who would've thought...that you had such a filthy mouth." He snickered. "You are so fucking wet already, you goddamn degenerate, you want my cock so bad, huh? I'll let you know I haven't showered in a few days." It was like he was testing you by basking in his own disgusting habits.

"Y-Yes, I do, I want your filthy cock!!" Another loud moan, uncaring that other people in the dorm were going to hear. "Please, Tomura, make me filthy!!" The expression on your face, mouth agape with your little tongue out so unabashedly desperate for someone like him made his heart flutter.

Shigaraki would've wanted to keep you begging for so much longer, but in reality, his own desperation had him pulling back his hand from your pussy, leaving you empty and sighing disappointed for a moment, but not for long. Firmly anchoring himself down with his knees on the mattress, he raised your hips with a bruising touch and with the clumsiness of an inexperienced man, plunged his cock into your pussy in one punishingly rough thrust. The sudden feeling of being full had you arching your back and curling your toes, nails clawing at his forearms as you writhed in pain from the sudden intrusion. Shigaraki buried his cock into you until his pubes brushed your outer lips, and he was balls depp inside.

"Fuck, fuck, ooh...holy shit you...are fucking tight." Tomura groaned with his mouth agape, eyes rolling to the back of his head. His breath hot against your skin as he leaned over for a moment, taking in the unbelievably hot sensation of you squeezing around him. "This fucking greedy pussy, hngg..." Your insides felt so good, better than he ever imagined, you were so tight sucking him in like you were trying to rip off his cock. Was this what pussy felt like, or was this just you? Seeing what a slut you were, he didn't think you were even a virgin. And yet your velvety walls wrapped around his shaft in a snug fit inside that scorching, pulsating heat, Shigaraki couldn't imagine anything else comparing to it.

He couldn't stop himself as he began thrusting his cock into your hole, pulling only slightly before sinking back, selfishly unwilling to let go of that delirious sensation around his length. The harder he snapped his hips, the better it felt, his balls throbbed as they slapped against your plump ass.

"Tomura, i-it hurts....mmm, oh!" Tears swelled in your eyes, and yet your hips were needly sinking on his cock like there was anything else of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pain, and your were soon arching your back and bouncing on his cock with all your might.

"Guess neither of us are virgins anymore, huh?" You panted with a laugh. Shigaraki froze then for a second, his eyes stared at your face contorted by pain and pleasure with wide eyes, enraptured and burning with something a little hotter than desire. A virgin, so even after the truth of your character, you really were as untainted as he thought.

Shigaraki was scrapping your virgin insides with his cock, truly making you filthy in the most pure sense of the word. He was tainting you, breaking you, the perfect girl everyone adored.

That was it, Shigaraki cursed under his breath as he pulled out, earning a confused and disappointed sound of from your lips, that then became a little help when he grabbed the back of your legs and pushed them up, bending them against your chest. He positioned himself over you and stuffed his cock back inside, thrusting into you as hard as he could, taking up a new merciless pace. In that new position, both of you could feel him reaching even deeper inside you, the engorged head on his cock hitting the entrance of your cervix, that little orifice sucking at his tip like it was begging for his filthy, fertile seed. The thought made him fuck you even harder, the image of him pouring his cum inside you and impregnating your insides.

"Tomura, Tomura, Tomura!!"

His name was a chant on your lips, arms thrown around his shoulders to pull him closer. You could smell the sweat and grime on his hair, and the thought someone so gross like him was taking you made your insides flutter and twist with the build up of an orgasm. "Tomura, don't stop, fuck...don't stop!!"

He didn't and soon you were clamping on his cock, your orgasm making you so tight that Shigaraki was shooting his load too reaching an abrupt climax, pleasure hitting him as his cum flooded your insides with its warmth, painting your walls white and filling up your womb until it was overflowing out of you, steaming down your thighs and ass onto his bedsheets.

It was like a dream, the best dream he had ever had. And he would've thought that it was nothing but a dream, too. If not for the arms that were still clinging to him and refusing to let go, the pretty mouth breathing against his ear.

"Tomura, you...really are disgusting." A satisfied voice filled with disgust, and affection. His cock began hardening inside you and you barked a laugh.

He hated you for that, and he loved you for that. The perfect girl everyone wanted, that was just so perfect for him too.

#yandere x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tw noncon #tw yandere #tw somnophilia #tw assault #smut #yandere thirst

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lildevyl · 3 years

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DSMP FanFic Recommendations I

So, a few days @nastiiuu did a nice Recommendation of a DSMP FanFic called Evermore. So, per request, here's a list of different DSMP Recommendations that I have from my History, Mark For Later, and from my Bookmarks! Sorry, @nastiiuu that it took me a while to get this up! But I hope you all enjoy!

Stay safe and I will put the Summaries and Tigger Warnings in as well!

So, I will start off with the one the @nastiiuu recommended a few days ago!

Evermore

Summary: Prince Theseus, a child of blonde and blue, a child of isolation and a crave for touch. He's the youngest in the Royal Family, and somehow the most forgotten. The most neglected. The most alone.

Tucked away in his tower, the young prince watches the world move on without him, watches his family welcome two new princes into their arms, and yet reject him when he cries desperately from nightmares or shivers from a painful wound.

"Wilby?" The child had murmured, all curious and hesitant at once. He was tucked in his older brother's lap, watching as his other sibling sparred with their father. "We'll always be together, right? Forever and ever?"

Wilbur smiled. "Of course, Tommy. Forever and ever."

The Hanahaki rising in young Theseus' throat says otherwise.

TW: Isolation, Hanahki Disease, Angst no happy ending, Character Death, Villain!Dream, Manuplation.

The Exchange: My Life for Yours: I'm still reading this one, I'm on chapter 17 and it's ssssssssooooooooo good right now!

Summary: Tommy was a liability. Too annoying and too loud.

Techno didn't care about this child.

"Unless of course, you want call on that favor"

"Ok"

Then why he suddenly did?

TW: Villain!Dream, Canon Diverse, Kidnapping, Demons/Dreamons, Demon!Dream, Dreamon!Dream, Isolation, Manipulation, "A Deal with the Devil."

The Inevitability of Change: I just got caught up with this one and oh my Ghoul! This is intense and so good! I can't wait for the update!

Summary: Fuck it, he was allowed to do this, it would be better for everyone else anyway. They could do whatever they wanted and he wouldn’t be in their way. He wouldn’t cause problems anymore and he could have the perfect life that he had always wanted.

The egg extended a blood vine out to him. "Do we have a deal?" There was a level of smugness that Tommy recognized all too well from all his wars with Dream, it was the sound of an opponent knowing they’d won.

“We do, you dumb ugly bitch.”

Tommyinnit hated change. He'd witnessed so many people he cared about in his life change and hardly ever for the better. He just wished things could go back to the way they were when he had everything he ever wanted, a loving family who cared about him, a best friend who was always by his side. He craves this so badly that he makes a deal with the egg to get everything he's ever wanted.

or or

Tommy becomes a coraline kinnie

TW: Derealization, Unreality, Manipulation, Child Abandonment, Violence (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters).

Ties of the Puppet

Summary: Tommy hates how his mind feels trapped at that moment with Tubbo. The look in his eyes one Tommy had been forced to see far too many times. Wilbur’s eyes.

Tommy struggles with the trauma of his life and unhealthy relationships, Wilbur tries his hand at redemption, Phil and Techno learn to heal what's been lost.

TW: Mental Health Issues, Violence, Abuse, Redemption Arc for Tubbo, Healing for Tommy/Phil/Techno, some of the characters will seem a little OOC, Canon Diverse.

Forged By Truth (Or the Lack there of)

Summary: After his escape from exile failed spectacularly, Tommy only needed to be reminded that Dream saved his life a few times before it starts to sink in. Once his exile can continue again far away from any more distractions, Dream proceeds with his plan to craft the perfect weapon.

TW: Manipulation, Mention of Character Death (Character doesn't really die but the other characters don't know that), Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Protégé AU, Tommy becomes Dream's Protégé, Angst, Whump.

Mask: I'm still working on this one but it's really, really, really good! A lot of Angst and Manipulation. So, please be careful when reading!

Summary: Dream knew Tommy was a naturally clingy child. That's why he found such satisfaction in having him exiled.

Dream didn't plan on Tommy clinging to him.

Dream was going to take advantage of the situation.

All Tommy needed was a bit of a push and then he would be completely broken.

Ready to be remodeled into the perfect weapon.

TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Attempted Suicide, Manipulation, Emotional and Mental Manipulation, Protégé AU, Broken!Tommy, Angst, Angst (possibly no happy ending but I'm not sure), Whump.

Lion's Cup, Tiger Stripes: I just finished this one and it's so good! Exile Arc but with a twist! Guest Appearances by Sad-ist, Late-August, Derivakat.

Summary: Tommy Innit knew what Dream was doing and was sure as hell not going through with it. So, by the third week of exile, as Dream starts to escalate his punishments, he leaves. One month later he runs into Purpled and hires him as a bodyguard while he travels.

Or Tommy runs away, stays in one village for a month to clear his head and decides to go travelling while dragging Purpled with him.

Or road trip pog.

TW: Angst, Angst with a happy, Found Family, Violence, Testing, Scares, Explosions (later chapters), I think that's all.

Valley of Serenity: This is a very long fic! It's about 60+ chapters so feel free to read in increments but this is a really good fic! Redemption Arc and Healing for the SBI Family!

Summary: After blowing up a nation, Wilbur throws a sword down at his father's feet and begs to be killed.

Phil, however, takes one look at the state of his children and decides he has other plans.

(post november 16th au where wilbur doesn't die. instead a family leaves the smp entirely, and learn how to live with each other again.)

"Fuck, I - I can't forgive either of you right now," Tommy says quietly. Despite the words, he hugs Wilbur tighter. "One day, though. I think one day I will."

"And we're still brothers, right?" Wilbur dares ask. Techno inhales sharply beside him.

They get a choked laugh in reply.

"Yeah. Brothers."

TW: Angst, Mention of wanting to die, Healing, a long road of healing, Mental Health Issues, Family Bonds, Angst but I think there is a happy ending, Violence, Mention of the L'Manburg exploding. Redemption Arc, Healing.

Breathing's Just A Rhythm: I finished this fic a few weeks ago and my ghoul! This is so good! Time Travel Fic with Dream, Schlatt, Tubbo, Tommy, and of course CHAT!

Summary: POGTOPIA??? WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE?? TIMETRAVELBLADE. technotravel

“Chat, I did not time travel,” Techno said exhaustedly, “I don’t know what gave you that idea, but please calm yourselves.”

The voices started obnoxiously whispering at the top of their lungs. HE DOESN’T KNOW. PANIC

Or: Tommy, Tubbo, Jschlatt, and Dream all end up in the past. (Oh, and the Chat comes too) (mcd is a villain, this fic has a happy ending)

Or OR! Dream attempts to Time Travel in the past but winds only go back a few months ago during Pogtopia Area and he winds up bring a few unexpected victors with him! MEANWHILE: Karl is trying his damnest to fix everything with Time Travel Fiasco that Dream caused! B/C the Future selves and the past selves switched!

TW: Graphic Violence, Bodily harm (later chapters), Kidnapping (later chapters), Explosions (later chapters), Betrayal (later chapters I won't say who!), Isolation, Manipulations, Mental and Emotional Abuse, Trauma, Therapy (Finally these boys gets some), Good!Schlatt, Villain!Dream, Redemption Arc Wilbur and Schlatt.

I think I got them all?

Wrong Place for Redemption: This one of the stories that helped inspired Breathing is Just a Rhythm! Time Travel Fic!

Summary: -Previously titled Time Will Decide. Name taken from lyrics in 'A Sadness Runs Through Him' by The Hosiers

“Okay, why don’t you go see him.” Tommy didn’t know what he thought the afterlife was going to be like, hell he didn’t even know if it was a real thing. Maybe he’d see Wilbur, possibly Schlatt, but he didn’t expect to see a white castle and Karl.

Or where Tommy looses his final life to Dream in the prison only to be teleported back in time.

OR where Tommy is given a second chance and isn't going to blow it, not even if things start to get revealed (things that change everything) and discoveries are made.

This whole book has TW's: Child abuse, violence/murder, gore/blood, implied/referenced suicide, suicide, drinking, etc.

Parental Rights: Another good on going fic for me! Can you tell that I love some SBI/Found Family Fics here?

Summary: Sam wants to be there for Tommy. Wants to be his dad. Wants to be the one Tommy comes to when he's in trouble or excited over something. He'd happily legally adopt Tommy, but well... Tommy's actual father is in the way of that. Sam thought with how distanced Phil was with his son it would be easy to persuade him to give his parental rights over to Sam. But well... Tommy's stubbornness had to come from somewhere, right?

TW: Sleep Walking, Mentions of Exile, Healing Arc for Tommy, Healing Arc for Sam, Healing Arc for Tubbo, SBI, Healing Arc for Techno.

Allium: This is still on going, but oh man! This is getting really good!

Summary: What if Dreams plan for the Disc War finale had worked?

Tubbo dead, Tommy in the prison, SMP under his control. Allium Ashes.

TW: Major Character Death, Ghostbo (Ghost Tubbo), Manipulation, Isolation, Imprisonment, Prisoner Innit, Making someone believe they are responsible for something they didn't do, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission.

And How Can I Compete (With The World At Your Feet): God AU and this is really Fangtastic! Rated M for Graphic Violence and Attempted Sacrifice.

Summary: Tommy has been kept away from the world and held captive for four years, and now he’s about to be used as a sacrifice to a god. A blood god, to be specific. The Blood God. But, instead of accepting his captor’s sacrifice, the Blood God is in debt to Tommy. And he’s going to save him.

A universe where Technoblade, Wilbur, and Phil are all gods who have become quite protective of a mortal fifteen year old without a home.

This concept was based on a text post I saw, I think! I can’t find it anymore, but if you see it let me know!

TW: Blood, Violence, Attempted Sacrifice, Villain!Dream, Villain!BadBoyHalo, Occult Setting, God AU, Blood God!Techno, Angel of Death!Philza, God!Wilbur, Angel!Tubbo, Angel!Ranboo.

Death's Forest: This is a nice little One-Shot for the SBI, and Dadza fans! Set during Tommy's Exile. Don't worry! Dadza to the rescue!

Summary: “Can I see him?” Phil asks, blinking owlishly, as if he’s simply just asking. As if he’s not holding a threat behind those light words.

“Don’t push your limits.” Dream responds, and Phil only smiles with a slow nod.

The next day, Dream wishes he had answered differently.

Phil isn’t quite human. He wants to visit Tommy during exile.

TW: I don't think there's any TW here, but if there is, please let me know!

Prince Theseus: Royal AU! Hybrid Tommy. Prince Tommy (Theseus).

Summary: Prince Theseus Craft of the Anartitic Empire, A child who could bring joy to anyone's day left to be forgotten by his family left to spend his days in his tower with nothing but his Maid and dear friend as company

Left to watch his older brothers laugh and smile as his father looks at them with love and the eyes of a proud parent he never saw directed to him, watch them both receive the love he craved so desperately from his father. Left him to envy his brothers yet grow jealous as that jealousy turns to a small flame of hatred growing steadily as time passes leaving him to make his final decision.

No longer will he be known as Theseus but as the Amazing Tommyinnit who could do anything who will prove his former family wrong and show he is better than what they think.

Which leads him to where he is now, a runaway prince who finds a new family brought together by hardship and their love of traveling the endless seas.

AKA :

16 yr old Prince Theseus changes his name to Tommyinnit and runs away from his royal family who neglected him and finds a real family on a ship who just so happened to be pirates as well.

TW: Isolation, Mention of a Minor Character Death, Running Away, Royal AU, Hybrid Tommy, SBI, Neglect, Pirates, Found Family, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Magic.

Therapy Marriage: Okay, I'm adding this one for some Wholesomeness, and Fluff with some Angst but there should be a Happy Ending!

Summary: but for some reason, tubbo (and possibly ranboo, although he doubted this was his idea) had got it into his head that tommy needed therapy or some shit.

which, fine, maybe he had a little bit of an issue. he did freak out at damage, and weapons, and he had reached out to puffy, but he was okay! he didn’t need tubbo to pity him.

but- here was where the weird part came in- tubbo wanted tommy in his marriage.

TL:DR Tubbo wants to help Tommy and decides that the best method is by marrying him as well. Ranboo just goes along with it.

*****

Okay, this post has gotten very long! I do apologize for that! So, I'll add others to another Post!

#nastiiuu #fanfic recommenation #dsmp #dream smp fanfiction #dreams smp fanfic #ao3 #dsmp fanfic recommendations #long post

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averykedavra · 4 years

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All I Want is Serenity

*ahem* Yes, thank you for gathering here tonight. I know I’m supposed to be working on my millions of unfinished fics. However, let me propose some, *ahem ahem* Roman angst? Perhaps, perhaps. Thanks to @becca-becky for not judging when I asked for “weird crab facts, stat.”

You can find this fic on Ao3 here.

(Title is from 'dreamin by The Score.)

Words: 13019 (I’m so sorry, I swear this was supposed to be like 5k)

Pairings: platonic DLAMPRT

Warnings: food mentions, missed sleep, missed eating, self-deprecation and self-hatred, sympathetic everyone including Remus, disassociation, brief suicidal ideation (although only referring to “ducking out”), slightly unreliable narrator, verbal abuse, anxiety, panic attack, sensory overload, spiraling thoughts, discussions of time and losing track of time, touch-starvation but it’s pretty brief, extra limbs but also very brief, maybe some light PTSD? The sides are portrayed as somewhat unsympathetic in Roman’s own mind, but they are not, he just views them as more hateful than they are. (I want to say this isn’t as bad as the warnings make it sound, but...it’s not great. There’s a happy ending, though, I promise!)

Summary: Roman knows the only way to keep the Sides from hating him is to make sure he’s perfect. He needs to say the right things, act the right way, and smile at the right times. But his endless practicing, high standards, and ugly thoughts are only making him screw up more. He needs to get a handle on things and become the perfect prince they want, or he’ll be kicked out for good.

It was cold in Thomas’ living room. Roman shivered as soon as he rose up. He’d try and fix the temperature, but there wasn’t time, not with everyone’s eyes on him.

Usually he loved attention, or was good at pretending that he did. But with Logan’s cold stare, Virgil’s glower, Patton’s shaky smile, and Thomas’ blank expression tearing through him, his skin crawled and he hid his shaking hands behind his back. He was ready for this. He was.

“Greetings,” he said, trying for a smile and his usual confidence. Was that the right way to go about this? Could he even maintain the facade anymore? Should he just let down his guard and stop being so insufferably extra all the time?

“Roman,” said Janus, and Roman flinched. Why did he do that? He knew Janus would be there, a few feet from Logan, yet he found himself unable to even look in Janus’ direction.

“We need to talk,” Thomas said, and Roman nodded. He knew.

“About the last episode.” Logan adjusted his glasses and Roman felt a little flicker of comfort at the familiar motion. "Clearly there are some things we need to sort out.”

Roman opened his mouth to apologize. Was that the right way to do this? Apologize right off the bat? The idea rankled at him, the fragments of his pride trying to stop him from throwing it all away, but maybe it would help to get everything out of the way.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I was rude and very unprincely towards Janus, and I hope he can forgive me.”

Janus watched Roman for a moment before inclining his head. Not forgiveness, but acknowledgement, which was better than Roman expected.

“That’s good, kiddo,” Patton said, his smile growing a little more real. “Now what about the rest of us?”

Roman swallowed. “The rest of us?” he repeated, wishing desperately he had chosen to do anything else, wondering why he thought this was ever a good idea.

“Well, yeah.” Virgil’s arms were curled around his knees and he was sitting instead of standing on the stairs. Rather out-of-character for him, but it helped ground Roman, not having everyone here be perfect and unaffected by the situation. “You’re...y’know...”

Virgil blew his bangs away from his eyes. Now that was classic Virgil, and it made Roman’s heart clench.

“You need to apologize to all of us,” Virgil finished, shrugging. “Sorry, dude, but...you messed up. Big-time.”

“I...” Roman nodded. “Of course. Logan, I am so sorry for insulting you by pushing the Ignorant button. That was a rude and insensitive joke and I’m sorry.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just a little bit.

“Patton, I...” Roman bit his lip. “I’m sorry for pushing you so much. We went into territory you were clearly uncomfortable with, and instead of hearing your concerns, I led you to have a breakdown.”

Patton’s eyes flashed. Okay, bad choice of words. Roman made a mental note to avoid calling it a breakdown.

“Thomas.” Roman tried to remember what to say. He’d wronged Thomas, hadn’t he? How? “The wedding,” he guessed, hoping Thomas would give him a cue.

Thomas nodded slowly.

Okay. Good. He was on the right track. “I shouldn’t have forced you to go to the wedding,” Roman continued, keeping his voice level. “It wasn’t what you wanted to do, and I let my own fears of siding with Janus get in the way of doing the right thing for you. I sacrificed your dreams, and for that, I apologize.”

Roman could have made a snarky comment about how they were his dreams too, and really he was only trying his best, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. Maybe he’d try it later, when he was tired and looking to let out some anger, but for now he was giving this his best shot.

“And Virgil.” Roman let all his sorrow and guilt flood his voice. “Virgil, I...I’m so sorry for ever treating you like the villain, for not listening to you, for being so prejudiced against the ‘Dark Sides.’ I’m sorry for even making up that name. I’ve been a terrible prince and an even worse friend, and I hope you--all of you--can forgive me.”

For a second, Virgil looked about to smile. Had Roman done it? Had he made his way through with no mistakes?

Then a sharp voice cut through his fog of hope. A sharp side to cut through all the bull. A sharp tongue and sharp eyes, slicing Roman back down to size.

“Why would we?”

Roman’s mouth went dry. He swallowed a few times. Stay tall, Roman. He was born for the stage, the spotlight. He was a master of improv. So why did this specific scenario get him so off-kilter?

“Why would we forgive you,” Janus continued, stepping forward, “when you’ve been lying this whole time?”

“What?” Roman whispered.

“You’re not actually sorry.” Janus’ voice was louder than Roman’s heartbeat, but only by a little. “You’re just apologizing so we’ll forgive you and you can start getting what you want again. I can taste lies, Roman, and you’re coated in them.”

“I-I’m not...” Roman took a step back. “I’m not lying!”

It was a weak line. A weak comeback. But Roman had always been weak.

“I’m not going to forgive you,” Janus said, and there it was. A simple statement that stabbed into Roman’s heart. “You’ve apologized before and you’ve never tried to change your ways. The fact is, you can’t change, because you don’t even believe you’ve done anything wrong.”

“How could you say that?” Roman protested. Yes and, his own mind whispered at him. Improvisation is yes-and, not blind denial. But how could he agree to that and still survive this? How could agree to that and get the good ending? “I’ve done so many things wrong! I’ve--”

“You have,” Janus agreed, stepping forward again. Roman felt his back hit the wall. The TV was between them, he noticed dimly, and cursed himself for the thought. Janus wouldn’t attack him! What kind of unsavory fear was that? So much for thinking of Janus as a good guy.

Still, even if the real Janus would never attack him, Roman had a sickening feeling that right now, all bets were off.

“You’ve made a million mistakes,” Janus said. Something we’re both familiar with, Roman remembered, but that was just a line to flatter Roman, make him let his guard down. There was no flattery now. “But you’re not sorry. I can tell.”

“Of course I am! I--” Roman paused, doubt squirming into his head. Was he sorry? Sure, he acted like he was, he told himself he was. But was he really apologetic? Or did he just want to get rid of the guilt that ate him up every night, the loaded glances everyone gave each other when he entered the room, the bite in everyone’s voice when they greeted him? Was he so selfish that he didn’t care about his friends’ feelings, only his own?

“Finally, an epiphany.” Janus smirked. “I knew it would take a while to get through that idiotic head of yours. But now that you’ve finally caught up with the big kids, do you know what it means that you’re only thinking of yourself?”

Roman knew. Roman knew. He didn’t want Janus to say it, but Janus was going to, because everything was out of Roman’s control. Why had he wanted it like this? Why did he think he could handle it?

“Evil,” Janus said, relishing each letter. “You’re the evil twin, Roman.”

Roman glanced around wildly, hoping for some scrap of support. He knew there wouldn’t be any. He knew their faces would cut him even deeper. But he looked around anyway, and he hoped, because Roman had always been pretty stupid.

Logan’s face, stern and cold, eyes flashing. Virgil, glaring at Roman like he did long ago back when they were enemies, baring his teeth. Patton, smile finally slipping off his face, looking at Roman with furrowed brows and a pout. Disappointment.

And Thomas. His Center. His person. The one he did everything for, the one he dreamed for, the one he lived for. Thomas looked at Roman, shook his head, and looked away.

Roman tried to scrounge up some sort of fight. He needed to get them to forgive him! Or at least continue the conversation! He couldn’t just give up now. Giving up wasn’t something heroes did, and if Roman wanted the slightest chance of success, he had to brave this out.

But Janus’ eyes were gleaming and sharp like the edge of a knife. The script had been torn to pieces long ago, and the more Roman stood among the people that resembled his friends, the more it tore him up inside.

He sighed, slumped against the wall, and waved his hand. “Cut.”

The room dissolved around him. He sunk to the ground, or what might have been ground. It was hard to tell when the Imagination was between worlds. Everything was the same shade of parchment white. He ran his hand down the wall and felt the roughness. Usually this place invigorated him, an empty canvas, a blank slate to create wondrous worlds and spin scintillating stories. Now it just reminded him of his failure.

Ugh. The first round was always the worst, but he thought he’d be able to handle it a little better than that. But no. He’d frozen, choked, run dry. One malicious monologue and he got tongue-tied? Pathetic. And he was supposed to be an actor.

Well. Maybe it would take longer than he expected. Ten rounds instead of five, maybe even twenty or thirty. But he’d figure it out. He’d be able to brace himself for the hatred. Or better yet, find the good ending. If there was one to get at all. He certainly didn’t deserve their forgiveness. Perhaps, though...perhaps if he found the right words, he’d manage to salvage their tolerance.

Either way, he knew when he finally had this conversation in real life, he’d be prepared. He’d be insulated from the harm of any stinging words thrown his way. He’d be fine.

Practice made perfect, after all.

Roman hauled himself to his feet and waved his hand, building the living room from scratch. He put the finishing touches on Virgil’s patchwork hoodie, Logan’s striped tie, Janus’ scales, Patton’s smile. Maybe it would hurt less if he made it less realistic, didn’t pour all his love and knowledge into each creation, but it was supposed to hurt. It wasn’t practice if he didn’t feel the weight of the real situation, didn’t feel the pressure on his lungs and the shake of his hands, didn’t feel the shame of being ridiculed.

“From the top,” Roman muttered, clapping his hands. And the scene started again.

“Greetings,” Roman said, smiling as wide as he could, ready for another try.

“Logically, there is no reason to forgive your apology. I hold no affection for you and you have sidelined me on multiple occasions.”

"Cut. From the top.”

“Kiddo, I’ve always supported you, but don’t you think you’re getting in Thomas’ way? I really think I should take the driver’s seat on this one. Maybe you can take some alone time and think through how you can be better.”

“Cut. From--from the top.”

“Oh, hey, bro! Whatcha up to? See, we’ve decided you’re not really all that, so we’re trying the other Creativity out as the good twin. Just take a backseat and be a nuisance, which shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Cut! From the top!”

“Jeez, Princey, can you pump the brakes? And I thought I was a bad guy. Hate to say it, but maybe you should just duck out and stop corrupting him.”

“C-cut. From...from the top.”

“You’ve never been my hero, Roman, and you never will be.”

Roman couldn’t even say “Cut” after that. He was too busy crying.

Eventually, though, after a million wrong choices and a billion broken smiles, he found his way to some semblance of the good ending. No jolly good fellows and cheering citizens, no happily-ever-after, just a version that didn’t make Roman want to curl into a corner and hide forever. His fake smile got better with every round. His apologies grew more polished, and even though they felt less and less sincere, they got better and better results. Soon he was just running through the words like he was reading off a teleprompter, bobbing his head along to a script he knew by heart.

He knew what to say. He knew where to pause, where to let his voice crack, when to smile and when to let someone else talk. He learned to wait his turn, to accept the first two insults from Logan but push back at the third, because if he didn’t, Janus would accuse him of taking things lying down which would lead to an entire diatribe from Virgil about Roman never fighting for himself anymore. It was a delicate balance between meek and egotistical, quiet and loud, apologetic and confident. One slip of the tongue and he’d be berated again, kicked out, encouraged to just duck out and save everyone the trouble of his company.

Still, it stung less after the tenth time. Roman barely even flinched after the twentieth. By the thirtieth, he was able to just nod and smile, swallowing the hurt. By the fiftieth--fortieth? Fiftieth? How many times had he remade this room, polished up these characters, and tried again? He didn’t remember--by the time he stopped, it didn’t hurt at all.

He was tired, he realized as he finally put away the living room for good. His eyes ached and his head swam. He must have been doing this for several hours. Time was hard in the Imagination. Well, no longer should he deny himself his beauty sleep! Usually he’d have a walk into town to reward himself for succeeding, have a chat with some characters or slay a mighty dragon or just enjoy the wind on his skin. But he didn’t really feel like he deserved a reward right now. And he definitely wasn’t up for any dragon-slaying. Or socializing.

Roman summoned a quill and scratched out a door in red ink. Maybe it was overkill when he could just sink into his room, but he enjoyed watching the ink spread over the surface of the wall and sink into a three-dimensional figure. It was one of his favorite parts of the Imagination, the way he could will anything into existence, plant a seed and let it have a life of its own.

Or it usually was. Not when the Imagination supplied biting words and cold eyes, going above and beyond even Roman’s worst fears, forcing him to confront every possible worst-case scenario.

Other than that, though, it was a fun place.

Roman opened the door to his bedroom. It was dim and empty, smelling almost stale. How long had been away? Didn’t matter, he was tired. And hungry, he realized as his stomach growled, but sleep before food. Did he even have any food? He’d been storing as much as possible under his bed so he wouldn’t have to attend meals too much, but he was pretty sure he’d eaten the last chicken wrap this morning. Or maybe yesterday morning.

Roman collapsed on his bed with a sigh. The food issue could wait for now. His eyes were already closing. He pulled his quilt over him and sunk into his pillow, breathing another sigh of relief. Goodness, he felt like he could pull an Aurora and sleep for a hundred years. All that crying must have been exhausting.

But just as Roman drifted off, he felt a tug in his chest.

Thomas.

Oh, no.

Roman’s eyes flew open. He thought he still had a day before this! That’s what Logan’s schedule said, and Logan’s schedule never lied. Why would they push it earlier?

Roman glanced out the window at the sunny day. His alarm clock read 4:30. The little red x’s over the previous days on his calendar proclaimed it to be a day before the Talk. Maybe he’d gotten the date wrong, misread it somehow. That would be just like Roman, to be such an idiot he messed up a simple date.

Well, no time to worry about it now. Thomas was summoning him again, the tug stronger and almost painful. Roman quickly jumped out of bed, waited for the room to stop tilting, and strode over to his full-length mirror. He looked like a hot mess. Nay, not hot, cool. Nay, not cool, uncool. An uncool mess.

Roman quickly snapped his fingers and straightened the wrinkles from his outfit, combed the tangles from his hair, and dried the tear tracks on his face. He practiced a smile, a grand pose, and recited his part in his head. He knew what he was doing. He was ready, he was prepared, he was numb. This would be fine.

When he felt another tug he took his chance, rising up in the real world and beaming at everyone. “Greetings,” he said, going a little quiet on the second syllable and purposefully softening his smile when he was done.

It was warm. No surprise, it was late spring in Florida, but Roman had gotten used to the icy chill of the Imagination. He’d never bothered to fix it. Maybe he should have, because the warmth was throwing Roman off, reminding him that this was the real thing and if he messed up, he got no do-overs.

“Hi, Thomas,” he said after a two-and-a-half-seconds pause. “Everyone.”

“Roman.” Janus’ voice cut in, right on time.

Roman nodded at Janus, lifting his lips slightly. Janus didn’t smile back, but he didn’t until later. So everything was going to plan.

“Where have you been?” Thomas burst out, his eyebrows furrowed. “Nobody’s seen you for days!”

Oh. Okay. That was off-script.

“I’ve been in the Imagination,” Roman said quickly. Not a lie, so Janus couldn’t see right through him. Just a layered truth. “What would you like to talk about, Thomas?”

Thomas pressed his lips together. “I think you know.”

Roman carefully let his smile fall, just a bit. “I know.”

“Yeah.” Thomas looked around. “We need to talk about the last episode, Roman.”

“We’ve already spoken about it,” Logan said carefully. “Just...not with you.”

“You weren’t answering us,” Virgil said, curling into himself, just a bit. “We, um--I. I was worried. But you’re here now, so--so that’s good.”

“So.” Patton tugged at the sleeves of his cardigan, looking nervous. The same nervous smile as Roman expected. “I--”

“I’m sorry,” Roman said, reciting the speech he perfected, the one tailored to ruin his friendships with the least people. “I messed up, and I’m sorry. Janus, I shouldn’t have laughed at your name--I actually like it, it’s very dramatic and it suits you.” End the compliments there, before Janus thought he was laying it on thick, or worse, figured anything Roman liked had to be terrible. “Patton.” Pause for emphasis, keep his voice level. “That video was kind of a mess, and that was my fault.” Don’t add any ‘maybes’ or ‘partiallys’ or ‘kind ofs’. Don’t imply it was Patton’s fault or everyone will get mad. “Logan, I’m sorry for cutting you off. I do that far too much--” Not ‘we’, ‘I’, because the last time he said ‘we’ Virgil got mad that Roman thought Virgil ignored Logan. “--and I would benefit from listening to you more.”

It was Virgil’s turn now. Roman didn’t have to say much to Virgil--too much, and he’d send Virgil into a panic attack like he did in the Imagination. “Virgil, I’m sorry for all the times I’ve been cruel to you. I haven’t ever apologized for those before, and that was my bad. You’re...you’ll always be one of us.” Oh, no. He’d gone off-script. But he just couldn’t help it! Hopefully the extra compliment wouldn’t be seen as too forthright, and no one could get mad at Roman for assuming that there was an “us” and Roman was part of it.

Everyone was silent. Roman let his words ring for a second or two. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, instead turning to Thomas. Thomas had an unreadable expression on his face, and Roman knew how quickly it could turn to anger, disappointment, fear, disgust. He had to do this right.

“Thomas.” Roman carefully shifted from one foot to another, a small sign of weakness that would make him seem a little less egotistical than usual. “I...I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t add anything else. No chances for misunderstandings with Thomas. He was a part of Thomas, all of them were, and Thomas would know exactly what he meant.

And Thomas did. His eyes softened. “I forgive you, Roman. Thanks for saying that.”

“Great!” Roman knew a cue to leave when he heard it. Sticking around too long had never ended well. They’d gotten their apologies, which meant he was no longer necessary. “Now, I’m afraid a noble quest awaits me, so I shall take my leave. Farewell!”

He gave a little flourish of the hand and sunk out, leaving the rest of them frozen in the living room.

“Wait--” Virgil started to say, but Roman was already gone.

Roman spent the rest of the afternoon dozing, watching TV, and scribbling down the first lines of stories he knew he’d never finished. At some point, maybe two hours or so after the dinner he skipped by insisting “I ate earlier, Padre, and I’m awfully busy right now,” he learned why the Talk had taken place a day early. Or rather, that it hadn’t. He’d been in the Imagination for a whole day without realizing.

Well, that happened sometimes. A day or so, and Roman would be back to his fabulous self. And he’d navigated that conversation with barely a hiccup, a real achievement. He usually messed up somewhere, the panic getting to him, lashing out at someone or feigning too much confidence and coming off as egotistical. And of course, before he started doing this, he’d been a mess.

He’d gotten the idea during Can Lying Be Good?, and although that episode was a disaster after Deceit showed up--Janus, his name was Janus, a change that still sent Roman’s stomach tumbling whenever he was reminded of it--it was still a good idea to work through possible options before making a choice.

So it started small. Roman practicing monologues on an empty stage, Roman working through a few different scenarios before deciding on the play to audition for, Roman conjuring up another Side and practicing asking them for help or thanking them for their assistance or apologizing for a wrongdoing. Slowly he started building worlds, polishing off characters, holding full conversations. There were more and more choices now. Everything was a choice. Every word was a choice that led to good or bad, happiness or hatred. Was this how Virgil saw the world, every sentence a pitfall? Roman hated it.

Yet made things a little better, made Roman feel a little better, a little more in control. Like a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story, paging through each option before making his choice, messing up and being able to stumble back to the last moment of solid ground, searching for that good ending. Like a video game with infinite lives.

Ugh, a video game. That carried bad memories thanks to the disastrous episode after the wedding. Roman had gone in there completely blind, since he had no time to prepare with a few run-throughs, and it had gone off the rails. What was that analogy with Thomas’ dead friends? Why had he pushed Patton into blowing up? Why had he even tried to contribute to a discussion about morality, which he knew wasn’t his area of expertise? And why had...why had he laughed at Janus’ name?

He’d panicked. That’s what he’d done. He’d panicked and made all the worst choices he could. He’d panicked and showed his true colors as a thoughtless, heartless, egotistical villain. Honestly, it was a miracle he hadn’t been kicked out of the Light Sides on the spot.

But it was fine now. He’d managed to scrounge up some compassion from the others, they’d forgiven him, and it was fine. Well, he hadn’t stuck around to see whether they’d forgive him--expecting something in return wasn’t very kind of him. He didn’t need them to forgive him. Thomas forgave him, and that was more than enough.

So now all he had to do was not mess it up again.

Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.

Roman was already avoiding the other Sides as much as possible, but he dialed it up to eleven. He sneaked into the kitchen and stole a week’s worth of food. For some reason, it was depleted in three days. Either he’d miscounted the food or the days. But it was fine. He ate in the Imagination, and he felt full in there until he left, upon which his stomach would feel like it was trying to devour itself. After the third time he fainted, he figured he might want to start eating dinner with the others again.

So he spent half the afternoon practicing, ranging from best-case scenario of being politely tolerated to worst-case scenario of being stabbed by a fork. At least, he thought it was half the afternoon. It turned out to be twice as long as he’d aimed for. He’d missed dinner altogether. So Roman spent another night starving until he stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl of cereal. He hoped that no one would be there. But Patton was already flipping pancakes.

When in doubt, he’d learned from all the scenarios he’d ran through, smile and nod. So Roman smiled, nodded, and started to take his cereal back to his room.

“Stay,” Patton insisted, looking far happier to see him than usual. That probably meant trouble. “The others will be down soon, and we’ve all missed having you here for breakfast!”

Okay, that definitely meant trouble. And engage in conversation before finding the right things to say? Roman would be kicked out before anyone had the chance to finish their pancakes.

“I appreciate the gesture,” Roman said, trying for an ingratiating smile, “but I truly do have things to attend to--”

“You’ve been saying that for days.” Patton slid a few pancakes onto a plate. “Kiddo, what’s going on in that head of yours? There’s no reason for you to be working this hard.”

Ah, there was his angle. He was wondering what Roman was up to. As Thomas’ Creativity, any issues with creative output could affect everyone. That made sense, and that was a conversation Roman knew how to handle. He’d practiced this very scenario, what, two weeks ago? One week? It had been a Tuesday, he was sure of that, but he didn’t know which Tuesday. Well, whatever, he remembered how to handle this. Assure Patton that everything was fine on the creative front, that as far as he knew there were no issues with burnout, and thank him for his concern.

But then Logan stumbled into the room, yawning, and Roman’s plan went out the window. Logan was a new variable, and a volatile one at that. Logan hated him. Logan thought he was dramatic and worthless and annoying. More than once, Logan had ended up yelling at him in the Imagination. And in real life, if Roman was being honest. He couldn’t blame Logan, but sometimes it got on his nerves how seriously Logan took every little jab.

Still, it was just Patton and Logan. Logan would surely react well if Roman spoke of organization, promised to follow the schedule, and maybe slipped in a compliment or two. It was kind of sad how much Logan was flattered by compliments, even backhanded ones. Still, it wasn’t Roman’s place to check on his self-esteem. All Roman had to do was play into Logan’s hands.

This was fine. It was only two of them, it was only breakfast, and things would be fine.

And then Virgil slouched through the door, sat on the counter, and poured himself an ungodly amount of coffee.

Okay. Problem.

Virgil, for lack of a better word, was the most confusing side. He was run by a myriad of internal inconsistencies and perfected paranoia, his operating system a hodgepodge of self-consciousness, worry, and a million little tweaks and complexities. Roman could make a good imitation of Virgil on the outside--just slap in some gravely remarks and a general I-would-rather-be-sleeping attitude, and he had himself a decent Anxiety--but on the inside? He was lost. Virgil followed his own rules. There was no telling whether Virgil would freak out over something, no playbook for whether or not he lashed out, no step-by-step manual for how to keep Virgil happy. Virgil was always on edge, always on his toes, and always saying just a fragment of what he really thought.

Roman liked that, in a way. Virgil was different, but he liked that Virgil was different. Virgil could surprise him. Virgil could understand him. Virgil was a good friend.

However, with Patton and Logan already in the room, Roman really did not want to have Virgil around, too.

He cast around for an excuse that would be nice enough for Patton, serious enough for Logan, and not too suspicious so Virgil wouldn’t narrow his eyes and ask “who did you think you were fooling?” That had happened...more than once in the Imagination. Sometimes it was paired with a crack about Roman’s acting skills, which always stung.

Before Roman could find an adequate alibi, the door opened again.

“Apologies for being late,” Janus said, sliding into a chair, Remus following like a lost puppy. A puppy covered in green slime and sucking on a jar. “Remus wouldn’t stop throwing octopi at my head.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now!” Patton slid plates of pancakes onto the table. “Enjoy, kiddos!”

Roman looked around at the room. Five people. Five chances to mess up. He couldn’t do this. He hadn’t practiced. There was no safety net to keep him from falling off the tightrope.

“Roman?” That was Janus’ voice. Smooth and suave and seeing right through him.

I can taste lies, Roman, and you’re coated in them.

Roman stood up abruptly. Everyone was looking at him now. Why had he ever grabbed the spotlight? This clinging attention made him want to curl up and hide.

“I-I need to go,” he stammered out. Before he could receive the consequences for his rudeness-abruptness-hesitance-everything, he sunk out. He left the bowl of cereal half-empty on the table.

The rest of his morning, which he’d planned to use to write, ended up alternating between hyperventilating and staring at the ceiling. He was doomed. Absolutely doomed. He’d made a fool of himself and probably offended, annoyed, angered or upset everyone there. Why had he even tried? Such a ridiculous idea, inserting himself in their lives like he belonged, like he was worthy to sit at their table and take up their time.

But he was greedy and selfish and didn’t want to just hide forever. It would be easiest to cut himself off. It would be easiest to lock his door and stay in his room unless summoned. It would be easiest to--no. He wouldn’t duck out. He couldn’t. He might be a defective Creativity, but he was the only Creativity Thomas had. Other than Remus, and Roman did not want to leave Remus in charge.

Then again, he couldn’t possibly mess up more than Roman had. If Roman wasn’t the hero, maybe Remus wasn’t the villain, and maybe Roman should just--

Ugh. Roman rubbed his eyes and tried to scrub the thoughts from his head. They’d always lurked in the back of his skull like an itch he couldn’t scratch, but ever since the court case, they’d returned with a vengeance. And after the latest episode? It took all his power to keep them at bay.

Well. Breakfast may have been disastrous, but this wasn’t the end of things. He would just have to practice more, is all. He wouldn’t freeze up if he had a better handle on how his friends really acted. This would be fine as soon as he was perfect at it.

So he practiced. Every day, he practiced. He did the work for Thomas and ate a meal or two, then spent the rest of his time fabricating conversations. He had one-on-ones with all the Sides. He talked to them in groups. He practiced dissolving tense situations and coming to compromises and not getting yelled at for being an idiot. He learned his way around Patton and Virgil and Logan and Remus and Janus and Thomas. He found the best cadence, the best tone, the best vocabulary.

And he messed up. Over and over and over again. At his best, he managed to avoid full-on blowouts, but after he got tired? He was berated. He was mocked. He was laughed-at and shunned and told to “just leave and make the world a better place.” He cried and that just made the situations worse, he said “Cut” and felt like a coward who couldn’t face the truth, he ran out of the Imagination and curled up on his bed and tried to get his breathing back under control. Some days, it was like a nightmare he could never wake from.

But it was worth it. On the miraculous occasions when Roman did everything right, he would get praise. Patton would beam at him. Janus would apologize for hurting him. Logan would give him a little nod. Virgil would smirk and say he “really wasn’t so bad.” And Thomas...Thomas would look at Roman the way he used to, like Roman was still his hero.

Once he even got a hug from Patton. It made his arms burn and his insides go cold and hollow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. Patton used to mandate group hugs, but everything was so tense now, and everyone avoided everyone else. Or perhaps they just avoided Roman. That would make sense.

When Roman played his cards right, he got the good ending. Which meant it was possible to get in real life, too. It was possible to maintain peace and remain accepted and even manage to be a good friend. However, the real world always threw Roman off. He panicked, froze like a deer in headlights, and his tongue curled up whenever he had to speak. He fumbled through conversations, conscious of the weight of the eyes on him, and retreated to the safety of his room.

He just needed more practice, he told himself. It would be fine.

He spent whole days in the Imagination. He brought his lunch in there with him, so he could practice eating and talking. He slept in there some nights, conjuring up a bed because he was too tired to make his way back to his real room. Sleeping in the Imagination was strange because he never knew when he’d woken up again. Everything was dreamlike and artificial. He’d stumble into his real room and pinch himself over and over again until he was sure he’d woken up.

Logan assigned Roman a brainstorming session. Roman made a note of the date and spent the day before it prepping. He had a few ideas, none of them fantastic, but hopefully Logan would be able to expand on them.

“Where have you been?” Logan asked when Roman showed up in the living room. “The session was supposed to be two days ago.”

“What?” Roman blinked and mentally ran through what he’d been doing for the past week. Oh. He must have lost track of time in the Imagination again. “I...it’s...what day is it?”

The date he got in response, along with a confused expression, cemented the truth. He was two days late.

“I'm so sorry,” Roman blurted out. “Completely lost track of time.”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Logan said, but he was still eyeing Roman suspiciously. Roman quickly quieted to hear what Logan was going to do.

“I’m free now.” Logan patted the couch next to him. “We can brainstorm now, if you would like.”

Which answer was the correct one? Logan could be annoyed about the whole thing and looking for a chance to insult Roman. But he looked earnest enough. He probably wanted to get things over with and give Thomas some good ideas. Okay, that was fine. This was fine! Roman was doing great already. The ‘missed the date’ thing wasn’t optimal, but other than that, this was going so much better than it usually did.

So Roman shared his ideas. He made sure to hesitate before each one, so Logan could stop him if need be. He peppered in a few compliments, kept his voice level, and pointed out the flaws before Logan could. Everything was efficient. Logan tried to make conversation at some point, but Roman knew that was a trap and would just lead to Logan getting annoyed at Roman “getting off-track” or “not taking this seriously.” So Roman didn’t take the bait, only talking about the ideas. Logan frowned a bit but followed his lead.

As soon as the ideas were finished with, Roman cleared up his space and stood up. Lingering after he was needed never ended well.

“You’re leaving?” Logan asked.

“We’re done, are we not?”

“Of course,” Logan said, but he didn’t look convinced. Oh no. Roman had done something wrong and now Logan was going to yell at him.

“Is there something you need?” Roman asked after a few seconds of silence. He tried to sound polite instead of dismissive, but the tone didn’t come off how he liked, and he winced.

“No, I--” Logan paused. “We’re...we’re watching the filmed version of Hamilton tomorrow night. If you’d like to join us, that...would be adequate.”

“I--” Roman tried very hard to keep from squealing and jumping around the room in excitement. “Sure! I’d love to.”

Was that too eager? No, Logan just looked...relieved. Almost happy. Patton had put him up to this, probably, and he didn’t want to fail at even a simple task. Well, Roman was glad he could give Specs an ego-boost for the day.

Roman quickly excused himself before Logan could take the invitation back. He closed the door behind him, hopped up and down, and squealed. He shook his fists and twirled around and hummed a few lines of Hamilton. Because it was Hamilton! And someone wanted him to be there! He would get to watch Hamilton with his whole fam-ILY!

He was going to watch Hamilton.

With everyone.

Oh, no.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. It was tomorrow night. He would be watching the Hamilfilm with everyone. So, so many chances to mess up. And he’d never practiced a movie night scenario before. He’d figured it would never actually happen in real life.

But here it was. He was invited. And he only had a day to prepare.

So Roman spent an entire day in the Imagination, watching Hamilton over and over with the other Sides surrounding him. He practiced eating just enough popcorn, laughing quietly, and making jokes. What he found? The best way to maintain peace was to simply shut up. No snippy comments, they annoyed Logan, who was trying to focus. No singing, it got on Virgil’s nerves. No trying to talk to Patton, who sat next to him. Patton didn’t want to talk to Roman. Every time he opened his mouth, things went wrong, and he was left curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and Lin-Manuel Miranda singing onscreen.

It was a good film. The close-ups were fun and the choreography was top-notch. Maybe Roman would watch it on his own later and actually get to sing along. Then again, he’d seen it ten times or more now, thanks to all his run-throughs of every possible scenario. Any magic the show possessed at first had drained away.

He wasn’t late to the movie night, thank goodness. Patton smiled and made room for him on the couch. Roman took just the right amount of popcorn, ignoring the yowling of his stomach, and settled in to watch. They were all in the positions he’d practiced with. Patton curled up on the couch, Virgil perched on top of it, Janus sprawled on the floor, Logan in the chair nearby, and Remus behind the TV. Patton was giggling over all the puns, Virgil was trying not to look excited and failing, Logan was monologuing under his breath, Janus was rapping along, and Remus was digging around between his toes.

And Roman stayed silent. He tamped down his excitement and simply nodded along to the music. He let Logan rant about the costume design and Virgil poke fun at some of the jokes. He let Janus hum the tunes and Remus shout out all the innuendos. It ached to just sit there, almost as if he wasn’t present, but he knew that being invisible was the only way he could leech off this comfort and familiarity. He had been included, and he wasn’t going to mess this up.

“Hey, Roman?” Patton asked during the intermission. “You doing okay?”

“Of course!” Roman declared. “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been kind of...quiet?” Patton’s eyebrows were furrowed. “I thought you’d like this. I know how much you love Hamilton.”

And what could Roman say? That he’d already seen this exact film a dozen times in preparation? That he’d seen every ending where he spoke up, and none of them were good? That he really wasn’t in the mood to be yelled at when he couldn’t just stop the scenario and cry on his own?

“Apologies,” Roman said instead. “I’m...I’m just tired.”

Patton looked about to continue the conversation, but What’d I Miss had begun to play, so he turned back to the TV and let it be. Roman settled in for the second act. He really wished he could just leave, but he still liked being surrounded by his friends, and they’d think it was rude if he said goodnight early.

He kept quiet, despite Patton’s confusion. He caught Virgil giving him weird looks, Janus pausing before every song like he expected Roman to join in, and even Logan eventually ran out of steam and fell almost silent.

“This is such a good song!” Patton exclaimed, humming the upper part. Janus took the lower. “Does anyone else want to sing with us?”

It was a completely transparent attempt to get Roman to sing. But no. Even if Patton seemed to want it, he’d quickly tire of Roman’s dramatics, and Virgil and Logan would hate Roman for being such a nuisance. So Roman just shrugged and smiled, enjoying Patton’s cheerful humming and Janus’ smooth vocals, pretending he didn’t wish that he could slip in between them and sing along.

Pretending was all Roman was good at, wasn’t it?

When Hamilton ended, Patton smiled and said “Wanna watch something else, guys?”

“How about Disney?” Virgil asked, watching Roman carefully. “I know one of us would like that.”

“Actually,” Roman said, standing up and stretching, “I'm quite fatigued, and a prince needs his beauty sleep. You can continue without me! I hope you have a wonderful night.”

Everyone shared glances, but Roman didn’t stick around to figure out what they meant. He waved and sunk out, returning to his room and sitting on the floor for a long, long time.

That was all he’d ever wanted. A chance to be part of the group. And he hadn’t even messed it up. So why did it feel so empty?

Roman was struck with a horrible thought. Had he left the Imagination? Was that the real movie night? Or was it just another scenario? Maybe he hadn’t watched the real Hamilton at all. That would explain why everyone was acting so strangely, all quiet and hesitant. No, it wouldn’t, because they would act the same as he expected, that was how the Imagination worked--

Roman reached out and ran his fingers over the carpet. This was real. That was real. Everything had happened for real. He couldn’t imagine the little details, like the reflections of the TV in Patton’s glasses, the threadbare edge of Virgil’s hoodie, the time Logan started singing along and immediately flushed bright red.

Still, the next morning, he casually mentioned to Patton the Hamilton movie. Just to make sure.

And Patton laughed and agreed. So it had really happened. That was good.

It apparently hadn’t a week or so later, after a long session of possible-movie-nights so he could be prepared if he was invited again.

“Did you know female crabs lay between 1,000 and 2,000 eggs?” Remus asked in the middle of lunch. “What I’m saying is, there are enough crabs to take over the world and make us all their servants.”

“You already told us that,” Roman said, smiling.

“I did?”

“Yeah, during Moana, remember?”

That got Roman a long, blank stare. Then Remus finally said, “I haven’t watched Moana in months, bro. And I’ve never watched it with you.”

“Huh?” Roman thought back to when he’d seen Moana. It was a dark night with storms on the horizon, and Patton had fallen asleep during the first song, and Logan had gotten annoyed at Roman hiccuping so Roman started over--

Oh.

“Whoops!” Roman laughed. “That didn’t actually happen. My bad.”

Remus was looking at him like he was insane, which was strange, because usually Remus was the one who was probably insane.

“Gotta go,” Roman said quickly, and disappeared. He spent the rest of the day berating himself for being an idiot and telling himself everything was fine. He’d just gotten a little confused, is all. He’d get some sleep tonight and he’d be fine tomorrow morning.

Tomorrow morning, he hadn’t slept a wink, and he wasn’t even sure it was tomorrow morning. Time was starting to blend together. Roman woke up and he didn’t know what day it was. Roman forgot he could say “Cut” in the Imagination because he forgot it was the Imagination. Roman said “Cut” in the middle of a conversation in the real world and had to quickly cover for it. Roman showed up for a deadline a week early. Roman made a joke about something Virgil hadn’t actually said. Roman flinched when Patton entered the room after a long lecture from Patton that hadn’t actually happened. Roman assumed one conversation hadn’t happened until it was referenced again and he realized it was real. Roman found himself panicking in the middle of the day, unable to name whether things were real or not.

Yes, he could feel everything around him, but was he really here? Was this the Imagination? He felt disconnected from his own body, unable to make any choices, unable to settle his thoughts. He found himself curled on the floor, shaking, running his hands over his outfit and trying to tell himself it really existed. Trying to stop himself from crying.

Everything was fine. His interactions with the Sides were good, nobody hated him, everything was peaceful. It didn’t matter if Roman felt like the world was careening around him. All that mattered was serenity for the Sides and success for Thomas. If everyone else was happy, it was fine.

Roman tried mentioning it to them. In the Imagination, of course, so there would be no real-world impact. Everyone was mad.

It was Janus who stuck out to Roman the most, because Janus was the one who grabbed Roman by the arm and said he was being selfish, didn’t he want to be better than a villain, clearly they had made a mistake allowing him to stick around. And he tossed Roman into the Subconscious, screaming. That would be where Roman woke up, if this was a nightmare, but it wasn’t. He had to snap his fingers and crumple to the ground in his room, gasping for breath.

Janus showed up at his door a few days later. Roman said “Just a minute!” so he could run through some breathing exercises and calm his shaking hands and recite the pointers for interacting with Janus. Let Janus have control of the conversation, apologize whenever necessary, and don’t rise to any of his bait.

“Roman?” Janus asked.

“Why, hello!” Roman said, opening the door just a bit so Janus couldn’t see the mess. He hadn’t spent any time cleaning his room. He’d been busy practicing. “What brings you here, Janus?” No clever nickname. Clever nicknames had been generally frowned upon in the Imagination.

“I...” Janus looked uncharacteristically...nervous. “I wanted to talk to you. Check on you.”

“Oh?” Roman asked, his stomach dropping. “And why is that?”

“I can sense lies,” Janus said. “As you know. And...I--you--”

Roman froze.

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” Janus said quickly, “I’m just concerned. We all are. I know you’re upset with me for what happened, and I’m truly sorry about that. We all are. Just...we would appreciate, even if you can’t forgive us, for you to tolerate us? You haven’t been yourself lately, and we’d appreciate--I’d appreciate--to know how we can make it up to you.”

Roman needed to answer. But all he could see was Janus grabbing him with an angry light in his eyes, Janus snapping at him when he said the wrong thing, Janus saying he was selfish and evil and not worth anyone’s time, Janus laughing at Roman’s discomfort, Janus calling him the evil twin, Janus sending him to the Subconscious and telling him to never come back--

“Roman?” Janus was stepping forward, concern on his face, but all Roman heard was the rushing of blood in his ears. All he saw was Janus’ twisted smile as he tore Roman down.

“I--” Roman stumbled backwards. “Don’t--”

“Don’t what?” Janus asked.

“I have to go.” Roman turned away so Janus couldn’t see the tears in his eyes. He fumbled with his doorknob and slammed the door in Janus’ face, sinking down as soon as it was closed, leaning on the wood. Breathe. He needed to breathe. Count from one to ten and back to one, in and out, big breaths. He needed to stop crying.

“Roman?” he heard from the other side of the door. Oh, no. He’d forgotten to make sure his room was soundproof.

Janus had heard him. He’d heard him crying.

Roman dug his fingers into his arm. Stupid.

“Roman, are you okay?”

Roman tried to muster up a “Yes, sorry, I’m busy/tired/alright.” Tried to find the perfect cadence and the perfect words. But he was so far from perfect right now.

“Go away,” he said to the door.

“Roman--”

“Go away!” he screamed. “Leave me alone!”

There was silence. Maybe Janus had listened to someone else for once in his life. Roman laughed a bit and found himself crying again. He’d messed up. He’d messed up for good. He hadn’t followed the script, he’d allowed himself to be weak, and now Janus would never talk to him again.

Roman didn’t even bother to practice that night. He curled up in his bed and listened to his playlist of breakup songs and cried his eyes out. By morning, his face was red and blotchy and the searing pain in his heart had turned to a dull ache. He wasn’t ready to face the other sides by any means, of course, but he felt a little more prepared to accept his fate.

So when he heard a hesitant knock on his door and a “Kiddo, can you come downstairs for a bit?” Roman braced himself and obeyed the order.

He immediately stiffened when he saw all five of the Sides, plus Thomas, sitting in the living room. Great. Thomas was here. He could be told by his Center that he was useless. All he’d ever dreamed of.

“You okay?” Patton asked. “If--if you just want to talk to one of us, or only some of us, that’s fine. Just say the word, kiddo.”

“It’s fine,” Roman said, even though it wasn’t. “Where do I sit?”

Virgil gestured at the middle of the couch. Roman slowly sat down, surrounded by the people he used to call friends, the same organization as movie nights. As all the fake scenarios he’d run. He felt so unprepared now, so naked, laid bare for everyone to see. He hadn’t even bothered to make sure his face was clear. At least he wasn’t panicking. He just felt numb and adrift.

“Greetings,” Roman said, smiling at everyone.

“Roman,” Janus said, and Roman flinched.

“We need to talk,” Thomas said, and Roman nodded. He knew.

“Clearly there are some things we need to sort out.” Logan adjusted his glasses. “About last night, and, well, the past few months.”

Roman swallowed. “I’m sorry. I’m--I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Virgil frowned. “What’re you sorry for? We were gonna say that we were sorry.”

Roman lost his train of thought. “What?” he finally stammered, looking around for a clue.

“We’re sorry,” Thomas said. “Clearly you’ve been hurting and angry with us, and we assumed that would change on its own if we gave you time, but--”

“It just made things worse.” Patton smiled softly. “So...we’re sorry. Really sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” Roman repeated blankly. “All of you?”

“I know it doesn’t mean much.” Roman looked to Logan, who was fidgeting with his tie, staring at his feet. “But we hope we can make up for...mistakes. We might have made. Prior.”

“That episode was not ideal,” Janus said. “And despite my anger, I should not have said the things I did. So yes. We are sorry. I am sorry.”

“I’m not apologizing,” Remus said from where he was sandblasting a sculpture of male anatomy. “Didn’t do anything wrong. But seriously bro, you’re acting really freaky and not in the fun way, so yeah. Talk it out or whatever.”

“Thanks, Remus,” Patton said, and he actually sounded thankful.

“I--” Roman regretted opening his mouth the moment all heads swung back towards him. “What?”

“Um, we’re sorry?” Virgil gave him a weird look. “Thought we made it pretty clear, Princey.”

Roman looked at each of them. They all looked sincere. They all watched him with varying degrees of concern and apologetic hesitation. Their eyes burned into his skin. He felt like he was floating off the couch. He dug his hands into the fabric but he couldn’t feel it between his fingers.

“I...I forgive you,” he said slowly, the movements of his mouth not matching the words. Why did everything feel like it was underwater? Why did everything seem so far away? He tried to figure out whether he was breathing. Yes, he was breathing, his chest kept contracting. He didn’t feel like he was breathing.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong--

“Roman?” Logan asked. Stood up. Stepped forward.

Roman pressed himself back against the couch.

Logan stopped. Held up his hands. Did Roman look scared? Was Roman scared? Maybe. He should be, he knew that, but everything was spinning.

Was he breathing?

No. He wasn’t breathing. He tried to take a deep breath but it turned out he had been breathing all along, and now his chest hurt. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.

Virgil was saying something. Roman flinched away from him. He didn’t want to get yelled at. Not yet. He just needed some time to remember how to move. He’d moved a second ago. Why wasn’t it working now?

“Roman!” cut through the haze in his mind. Virgil was sitting in front of him. That was weird. Virgil had been on top of the couch a second ago, right?

“Breathe,” Virgil was repeating. He reached for Roman’s hand and Roman flinched away involuntarily. A little spasm of hurt crossed Virgil’s face. Ugh, he’d made Virgil upset, stupid, stupid--

“Breathe, Roman, breathe!”

He was breathing, why couldn’t they see that? He was breathing fine.

“I’m fine,” Roman forced out. It felt like a punch in the stomach. And all of a sudden, everything fell back into place. His hands, clenching around the couch for dear life. His knees pressed together. His shoulders tensed. Virgil sitting near him, trying to get him to breathe, Janus and Logan and Patton and Thomas staring at him, shocked and worried.

“You’re not,” Virgil said.

Roman tried to fight back.

But he hadn’t been breathing this whole time.

And his chest was too tight to form words.

“Breathe,” Virgil said again, and Roman closed his eyes and breathed.

It hurt. It shouldn’t hurt this much to breathe. It shouldn’t make his head spin and his eyes water. But he breathed. He breathed in and out and let the air fill him up, travel to every corner of his body. He could feel everything now. Everything was real. Everything was too real, grating on him, pressing down around him. He could feel a million things. The air smelled like a million scents.

That exercise. Name five things, four things, three things. He felt everything. He heard everything. He tasted too much.

Everything was way too much.

It took too much effort to raise a hand.

He sunk out.

He crept into the Imagination, white upon white, nothing there but possibility and emptiness. He sat there and let the itchy wrong pour out of him, until he was wrung out on the floor, empty and exhausted. He curled up on the ground and slept. He could have gone to his bed, but he didn’t want the choking cover of sheets over him, the rustles of air around him. Here in the Imagination, it was quiet and still and he could just wait.

When he woke up, he’d crafted the living room in his head while he slept, because there was everyone right before he’d sunk out. Concerned and frozen and helpless. They were just trying to help, and he’d panicked for no reason.

Although. Now that he was awake, the whole situation was just weird. They were apologizing. To him. Why? Why on earth would they try to apologize? And why had Roman felt so off-kilter from the start? Why was everything so wrong?

Unless--

It hadn’t really happened.

Roman looked around at the facsimile he’d created. Down to the smallest details, it was perfect. He wouldn’t be able to tell the difference if he looked at it and the real room side-by-side.

It hadn’t happened, had it?

Roman didn’t know why that felt like such a blow. Of course it hadn’t happened. Why would it? There had been no signs of it happening before then, and it didn’t match what any of the Sides really thought of him. They wouldn’t apologize to him. They’d done nothing wrong! And they wouldn’t have been so scared and worried when Roman freaked out.

Great. His subconscious was desperate for validation and made him a nice little scenario. He didn’t realize he was that much of a pathetic, selfish, greedy mess.

But this was good! It meant there wouldn’t be any humiliation or strange looks when he returned to the real world. He could continue maintaining his facade, and none of them would judge him for his weakness. Or worse, feel forced to tolerate him out of pity.

Roman’s stomach growled. Well, fantastic. He didn’t want to face the Sides again, but he’d probably faint if he didn’t have any food. Was it even breakfast time? Maybe not. Time was an illusion anyway.

Well. He climbed to his feet, vanished the living room, and stretched his arms and legs. Then he tore a little door in the side of the Imagination and strolled into his own room. He checked himself in the mirror. He looked surprisingly good for someone who just had a breakdown surrounded by manufactured figments of his imagination that resembled the other Sides.

The kitchen wasn’t empty like he’d hoped. Patton and Logan were having a hushed conversation, Janus was occasionally adding to it while fixing up several mugs of tea, and Remus and Virgil were sprawled on the floor together, watching what seemed to be Coraline on Virgil’s phone. It was really sweet. Roman smiled to himself as he walked in, stepping carefully over Remus’ feet.

Patton and Logan froze as soon as Roman walked in. Janus looked around and almost dropped the mugs.

“Hello!” Roman said brightly, opening the cupboard and grabbing some cereal. “Sorry to disturb you, I’m just getting some cereal. Carry on!”

Virgil made a small choking noise. Roman looked over and saw that he was struggling to his feet, staring at Roman with wide eyes.

“What is it?” Roman asked after a few seconds when it became clear Virgil wasn’t going to talk. “Is there something wrong?”

“Where have you been?” everyone yelled simultaneously.

Roman blinked. “Oh? I--how long have I been gone? I truly didn’t mean for it to be that long. Is there something I missed?”

“We were so worried!” Patton was babbling, running up to Roman and looking him over. “You just sunk out, and we couldn’t find you anywhere, and Remus said you weren’t letting him into the Imagination, and--”

“What?” Roman asked. “When did I sink out?”

“Yesterday,” Logan said. “After our conversation in the living room? You appeared distressed and sunk out before we could continue it.”

“Our conversation in the--” Roman froze. He thought he’d left the Imagination behind! Had he only fooled himself into leaving? Had he just sliced through one layer and tumbled into another, tossed between different pages of a book? Perhaps he was still dreaming, even. No, even his lucid dreaming wasn’t as realistic as this.

“Roman?” Patton asked, reaching forward but stopping himself, the concern painfully obvious in his face.

“Cut,” Roman murmured, waiting for the scene to change.

Nothing happened.

“What did you say?” Logan asked, frowning.

“Nothing,” Roman blurted out, stepping backwards. He tried to mentally tear the scene apart, go back to the start, rewind, pause, anything. There was no movement. All the Sides continued to stare at him.

There was something wrong. Why wasn’t the Imagination answering him? It was attuned to his every thought, molded by assumption and creation, a place where Roman was in complete control. It wouldn’t just not listen to him. Unless--

Unless this was real after all.

Which meant...

“We talked yesterday,” Roman said slowly, gauging the reactions. “That was real?”

“What?” Virgil asked. “Of course it was real, what are you talking about?”

It was real.

He’d really been in that room. They’d really apologized to him. And he’d really had a breakdown on the couch in front of everyone he knew.

“Wonderful,” Roman said. “Fantastic. Amazing. I have to go.”

“Wait,” Janus said.

Roman did not wait. He turned on his heel and practically sprinted out of the kitchen. Cereal be damned. He should have sunk out, but his thoughts were too fragmented to picture his own room, and he was afraid that the shifting of worlds around him would throw him off again. He’d just managed to get a handle on reality. He wasn’t in a mood to mess with it.

That was his mistake, though. Because as he bolted down the hallway, a figure collided with his chest and sent him to the ground.

“What--” Roman rubbed his shoulder and stared up at Remus. Remus stuck out his tongue, hands on his hips. Two octopus tentacles wrapped around Roman’s chest and held him in place.

“Remus!” Roman cried in annoyance.

“Got him!” Remus yelled.

There were footsteps behind him. Roman looked around and saw the other Sides approaching. He tried to wriggle out of Remus’ grasp, then tried to sink out, but the stupid slimy tentacles kept him in place.

“Let me go,” Roman complained as a bit of goop slipped down his leg.

“Only if you promise not to run again, bro.”

Roman sighed. “Promise. Now let me go.”

The tentacles made a little slurping noise and disappeared into Remus’ back. Roman jumped up and started wiping the slime off his uniform. Ugh, it was a mess. He’d need to conjure a new costume now! Yes, he could just snap the stains away, but he’d still feel the uncleanness in his soul.

“Disgusting,” Roman said as his fingers came away green and slippery. “Seriously. Did you have to do that?”

“You high-tailed it the heck out of there,” Patton said apologetically. “And we really need to talk.”

Roman bit his lip. “Yeah. I--I know.”

“Do you think...” Logan looked around. “Speaking in the hallway is not an optimal place. Perhaps we should go to the living room.”

“Or the real world.” Virgil curled into himself the moment everyone looked his direction. “What? I think Thomas should be there.”

Roman flinched at the mention of Thomas, and now all eyes were on him again, cloying and cloaking him in concern.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Virgil added. “Duh.”

“I--sure.” It would hurt to see Thomas, to have Thomas finally condemn him, but it was best to get everything out of the way at once. Like ripping off a bandaid or the sword from the stone. “That works for me.”

“Is he busy?” Patton asked.

“He’s watching Parks and Recreation,” Janus said. “Honestly, I think we’ll be doing him a favor by interrupting.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Logan said firmly. “This is important.”

Roman swallowed down the lump of ice in his throat. Yeah, he supposed it was important. They’d finally seen how weak and worthless his Creativity was, and they needed to decide what to do immediately, before Roman’s problems affected Thomas’ creative performance.

“Glad we’re decided.” Janus clapped his hands. Half of them rose up in the living room and the other half appeared in the living room. Roman was in his usual spot by the crooked lamp, Virgil stood by the stairs, Logan in front of the kitchen, Patton by the blinds. Remus sprawled on the floor near Roman and Janus stood by the sofa.

“Thomas?” Logan asked.

Thomas, true to Janus’ word, had been watching Parks and Recreation. When Logan called his name, he paused the TV, jumping up.

“Hey, guys!” Thomas said. “What’s the matter? Thought we didn’t have that filming session until later.”

Virgil winced. “Yeah. Um. There’s...there’s a bit of a...situation?”

“A what?” Thomas looked around and seemed to finally see the serious looks on everyone’s faces. “What happened?”

“Who’d like to tell him?” Janus asked, his eyes lingering on Roman. A clear invitation.

"I--” Roman’s voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I can regale him with the tale, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Go for it, kiddo.” Patton’s usual encouraging smile was nowhere to be found. It made Roman feel strangely empty.

Roman could easily tell a lie. Leave things out. But Janus was staring right at him, so he knew even a lie of omission would be detected.

And besides, they deserved to know just how much of a screwup he was.

“So.” Roman placed a hand on his chest. “I, as the prince of your dreams, possess a land known as the Imagination. It is a place where I can conjure creations and sift through stories until an idea sticks. Remus has his own version.”

“Damn straight,” Remus agreed, sticking a lollipop up his nose. “Mine has all the cool stuff. Roman just uses his for rescue missions and heroic quests or whatever.”

“They’re fun,” Roman argued, before he remembered talking back was not the way to handle any conversation. Thankfully, Remus seemed occupied with shoving the lollipop nearer to his brain, and didn’t fight him on it.

“Well, yes, that’s the general idea,” Roman continued, turning back to the others. “I also use it, sometimes, to practice. Run through scenarios. A rehearsal of sorts before any big discussion.”

“Like what we did after I missed Joan’s performance?” Thomas asked.

“Exactly! That was what gave me the idea, actually.” Roman waved a hand. “It helps me feel more in control of the situation and avoid messing things up. I can predict how you will all react and find the best way to navigate a conversation.”

“Okay,” Virgil said slowly, “I can already predict where this might go wrong, but keep talking.”

“Then, you know, we had...” Roman scratched at the back of his neck. “The most recent episode. In which I said some rather unsavory and unprincely things to our snaky sixth side, which I am truly and deeply sorry for.”

“You’re forgiven,” Janus said almost instantly. Everyone stared at him. “What?” he asked. “It’s been months. Roman was upset and lashed out, I understand he didn’t mean to hurt me. Quite honestly, I was more concerned that he hadn’t forgiven me.”

Roman tried to hide his complete and utter shock. He didn’t realize Janus was such a good person as to feel guilty for that! Well, Janus needed all the Sides to tolerate him in order to help Thomas, that was probably the reason.

“Of course I’ve forgiven you!” Roman declared. “You were upset and you fired back, and the jab was not uncalled for. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Janus frowned slightly.

“Anyway,” Roman said, looking back at Thomas. “After that, I started practicing more often, and...I began losing track of time? Also, being exposed to that amount of rejection a day was--draining. My creative processes have suffered thanks to the amount of time I’ve spent improving my interpersonal expertise. So I apologize for that, deeply and sincerely. I promise I’ll be on-track soon--”

“Wait.” Logan looked deep in thought. “What do you mean, ‘that amount of rejection?’”

“Oh.” Virgil winced. “Knew it was gonna be something like that.”

“What?” Patton asked.

“Okay, Princey. Tell me if this sounds familiar.” Virgil blew his bangs out of his eyes. “You’re basically running through worse-case scenarios. Sure, you tell yourself they’re all accurate, but they’re the worst kind of accurate. They’re the stuff that wouldn’t actually happen. Probably on some level you get that it’s completely ridiculous to think you’d ever get that response or be in that situation, but it still seems plausible, so you keep doing it. And you start overthinking every little choice until you’re convinced you’re doomed to failure and think everyone hates you even though in real life, everyone thinks you’re great.”

Roman stared at Virgil for a very long time. There was a lot to unpack there. “How did you--”

“I’m literally Anxiety,” Virgil said, smirking. “That’s exactly what I do. Like every day.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound healthy,” Patton murmured.

“No, it isn’t,” Virgil said, giving Roman a pointed look. “Anyway. Continue.”

“Um. Alright.” Roman braced himself. “So I was having the conversation with the other Sides and you and I may-have-not-known-whether-it-was-real-or-not-and-it-was-rather-terrifying.”

“What happened?” Thomas asked quietly.

“He had a panic attack,” Logan said. It could have been blunt, but it wasn’t. It was hesitant and soft, softer than Roman had ever heard Logan be, save for when Virgil was upset.

Thomas looked at Roman, and Roman pointedly stared at the floor, clasping his hands behind his back and trying not to bounce nervously.

“He’s been acting strangely for a while,” Janus added. Again, his voice was strangely soft. “It would...it would make sense, his apprehension whenever we talked to him, if Virgil’s theory is correct and he’s worried that we hate him.”

Roman frowned. “Wait, you don’t?”

That got everyone’s attention. Roman’s stomach dropped to the floor as Patton made a little sad noise, Virgil grimaced, and Logan stepped back like he’d been punched.

“No!” Thomas exclaimed. “Of course not!”

Roman laughed a little, waiting for the punch line. None came.

“We don’t hate you!” Patton managed, his eyes filling with tears. “Oh my goodness, Roman, we love you!”

“You’re fun to stab,” Remus said from the floor. “And, like, fun. In general.”

“You’re intelligent and thoughtful and creative...” Logan waved his hands. “I envy you and your ability to fight for your ideas and create such impactful stories. I have always valued you.”

“You’re...” Virgil swallowed. “You make us better. Make me better. Always.”

“I--” Roman covered his mouth. “You’re lying. You can’t--”

“I can taste lies, remember?” Janus smiled at Roman, a smile so different than his usual smirk, reassuring and steady. “They’re not.”

Roman couldn’t stop a little whimper from escaping. “I didn’t mess up?”

“No,” Thomas said, face open and caring and so, so soft. “You’re still you. You’re not perfect, but none of us are. You’re clearly so remorseful about your mistakes. Roman...you’re my hero. Always have been, always will be.”

Roman tried to take a deep breath and steady himself, but it caught in his throat. “You--” He shook his head and found words spilling from his lips. “I thought I ruined everything, you said I did, you said I was selfish and evil and worthless and I should just duck out and--”

“We never said any of that.” Logan shook his head. “We would never say any of that. Those are blatant falsehoods.”

“That’s not us,” Virgil said. “That’s what you were telling yourself.”

“The Imagination isn’t realistic.” Remus gave Roman a long look. “Never has been. It’s not what life is really like. It’s always warped by how we see the world. So basically, Raggedy Ann is right. That stuff you thought we’d say to you? Total bull. You unreliable-narrator-ed yourself, bro-bro.” Remus smiled a little bit. “Happens to the best of us.”

“You’re amazing.” Patton’s jaw was set. “You’re wonderful and special and worth the world. I love you. We love you and we need you here. And--and I’m so sorry we didn’t see you were hurting.”

“It’s not your fault,” Roman said. “I’ve always been a good actor, right?”

That got another long silence.

“Kiddo,” Patton said, “would you like a hug?”

“What?” Roman asked.

“A hug,” Patton clarified, but that didn’t make any more sense. Why would Patton want to hug Roman?

“Hugs have been scientifically proven to increase mood,” Logan added.

Thomas just opened his arms.

Roman stumbled forward, waiting for Thomas to pull away from him, but nothing happened.

Roman sunk into Thomas’ arms.

Warm. Fire. Burning up and down his skin, heating him up from the inside. Roman buried his face in Thomas’ shoulder as Thomas’ arms came up and circled Roman. Thomas rubbed at Roman’s back. Roman whined--embarrassing, but it felt so good.

And then there was more. Patton, wrapping around his waist and pressing his cheek into Roman’s sash. Logan, running his hands through Roman’s hair. Virgil, curling up into Roman’s side and pressing against his chest. Remus, a little exuberant but surprisingly gentle, ruffling Roman’s hair and placing his head on Roman’s shoulder. A gloved hand traced Roman’s cheek, and Roman reached up to hold it. Janus smiled back at him.

“Guys, you--” Roman choked on his own words and realized he was going to cry. Great. Just what the moment needed--Roman ruining it by being sensitive--

“Hey.” Thomas squeezed him tighter. “It’s okay, Roman. Let it out.”

“Really?” Roman asked, his voice small.

“You seem to need it,” Logan said.

“So go ahead.” Virgil smiled. “No judgement here.”

Roman closed his eyes and a few hot tears dripped down his face. He took a deep, shaky breath. Then Janus ran a thumb across his cheekbone, burning and soft, and Roman broke. He sobbed into Thomas’ shoulder, holding onto his friends--his friends--for dear life. Patton made a few little encouraging noises, and Thomas whispered little things. It’s alright. It’s okay. You’re safe, we’re real, we love you.

Roman grasped on the words like they were his lifelines.

He didn’t really believe them. Not yet. But oh, how he wanted to.

“We should...” Logan said after a long time, after Roman’s tears had long dried but he’d remained in the hug to soak up the warmth. “We need to talk about this. We need to...make a plan. Find out how to be better.”

“Later.” That was Janus. “For now, I think we could all use a movie night.”

Virgil snorted. “It’s like ten in the morning.”

“Movie morning, then.” Janus looked to Thomas. “Does that sound good?”

“It sounds great.” Thomas smiled as Patton snapped his fingers and onesies replaced their usual outfits. Even Logan was wearing his unicorn onesie. “What do you guys want to watch?”

“Uh--” Roman waved a hand hesitantly. “Um. Can I--”

“Go ahead,” Patton said.

“I’d...I’d like to watch Hamilton? I...I knew--I thought. I thought you wouldn’t like it if I sang, and I, um. I didn’t enjoy it that much.”

“Neither did we,” Virgil said. “Missed having you rapping along.”

“That sounds adequate,” Logan said, flashing Roman a smile and leading the way to the couch. “I’ll get it ready. Thomas, some snacks?”

Thomas walked into the kitchen with Patton, and they pulled some snacks out of the cupboard. Roman sat down with Logan, Remus, Virgil, and Janus. Virgil sat by his shoulder and pressed his leg against Roman’s side. Janus lay a hand on Roman’s. Remus lay across Roman’s feet. And Logan bumped shoulders with Roman. The touch was warm and fiery and made Roman want to giggle uncontrollably. So he did, just a bit. Nobody seemed to mind.

Thomas and Patton came back with snacks, distributing them. Logan turned on the TV. And the first lines of Hamilton started to play.

It took Roman three songs to work up the courage to sing along. When he did, Patton’s smile lit up the room. Janus dipped lower to harmonize. Virgil huffed happily. Remus clapped his hands. And Logan consented to add a few notes in, here and there.

Thomas just stared at Roman, and for once, the attention wasn’t stifling. Because for once, Roman knew he wouldn’t be judged.

“This is real,” he whispered to no one. “Right?”

"It’s real, Princey.” Virgil reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “We’ve got you.”

Roman smiled.

And for the first time in months, he felt at peace.

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: I Got You** {One-Shot}

Lewis Tan x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Fluff, Mild to Moderate NSFW, Mild to Moderate Smut

Words: 3.1k

Summary: Lewis takes notice that you’re having a hard day, so he pushes everything to the side to make it easier.

Note: This is for @munteanhorewrites I hope this make you feel all fluffy, doll. 💜💜

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Mildly Interactive***

~~~~~~~~

The way you kissed him goodbye this morning was weighing heavily on his mind. He was so in tune with you that it was easy for him to decipher how you felt. Depending on the kiss he got, he could determine if you were happy, feeling flirtatious, sad, angry, or even annoyed. This morning’s kiss was a detached one that left the taste of melancholy on his lips. He’d wanted to pull you back to him and badger you until you told him what was wrong, but time was once again against him.

Four hours into this shoot, and he was still at it. He’d never had more than fifteen minutes to himself, and even then, he was still working. Either it was doing small interviews and web appearances, or it was answering emails. He always tried to find a balance in his life. A balance to give you the attention you deserved, but the last few months had been difficult because his name was coming up more and more for potential roles, which meant many more meetings.

Finally, with some time for himself, he dialed you. After three rings, you picked up.

“Hi babe,” you said, your voice low and dejected.

“Hi, princess. How are you?”

“Eh--,” you began on a sigh. “I’m okay. I’m just sitting on the balcony with Bear.”

“Is she keep you good company until daddy comes home?”

“Yeah, she’s always so sweet to me.”

Even your voice now didn’t sound like your usual self. He could feel something was off.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

Again, you sighed, but you didn’t speak right away. Instead of speaking, he patiently waited for you to be ready to talk about it. He knew better than to force you to open up. You’d do it in your own time. After almost a minute, you spoke.

“It’s just one of those days, I guess.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he coaxed on.

“I just feel at a crossroads, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel all over the place, but like I’m standing still. I don’t even know if that made any sense.”

He could hear the struggle in your voice and even felt the chaos going on in your head. His heart sunk, and just like that, his decision was made.

“It made sense. How about we talk about it when I get in?”

“Sure, baby, I’m sorry I don’t mean to bring you down while you’re working,” you began before he quickly shut you down.

“I don’t wanna hear you say that again. You never bring me down. You’re the reason I’m always on cloud ten.”

You snorted. “Babe, you mean, cloud nine.”

“Nah, I said what I meant, princess. Cloud ten. You got me walking in the sky on a whole different level than anyone else. They wish they were me.”

“You’re so silly. Get back to work,” you teased.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, baby.”

“I love you. You know that, right.”

“I know, babe,” you began to brush off.

“No, I don’t think you do, but you will by the end of the day,” he finished.

Once he ended the call, he got on the phone with his people to cancel the rest of his day. He didn’t care what it took. He had no intention of working for the rest of the day. It was strictly for you.

Once the photo shoot was finished, he made a few quick stops to pick up things he would need. Plenty of your favorite candles. An overflow of your bath and body products from Lush. Your favorite order from the Japanese restaurant you always craved. Several servings of your favorite dessert and a few gifts. When he made it home, it almost six. Before bringing in the bags, he tracked you down, finding you still on the balcony in the bedroom.

“Hey, baby.”

Your smile was bright, but it never reached your eyes. “Hi.”

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips. “You smell like cotton candy, vanilla, and sugar. Where’ve you been?”

Trying not to seem suspicious, he shrugged. “I just picked up a few things from the store. Have you eaten today?”

You leaned back and hugged Bear closer, who was trying to reach him. Bending down closer, he allowed her to lick along his jaw.

“Hi Bear, how are you? Have you been taking care of our lil’ mama? Yes, you have. Such a good girl.”

For a few moments, both of you snuggled and scratched behind Bear’s ears, showering her with the same affection she always showed both of you.

“So, did you?”

“I had some tea and a muffin earlier.”

“Princess,” he began scolding before you sighed then pouted those perfect lips.

“Don’t be mad at me,” I couldn’t take that too.”

“No baby, I’m not mad. I just don’t like it when you don’t take care of yourself. You mean everything to me, and I need you around.”

You felt your heart swell from his words. You knew you meant a lot to him, but hearing him voice it always made your heart skip a beat. Turning around with the chair back between you, you flung your arms around his neck, holding him closer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, princess,” Lewis whispered back.

That was when you let everything out. You told him about the sleepless night you’d had, which he wasn’t even aware of. You told him about your worries, your fears, the anxieties that had reared their ugly heads, and held you captive all day. You held nothing back. The deepness of your anxieties and pain had him pulling you out of the chair, so you straddled him on the floor. He held you as you cried and let you use him as your teddy bear for as long as you needed.

Once your sobs subsided, he proceeded to tell you all the things he loved about you, beginning with your kind and giving heart, the one he fell in love with first. He told you how much he loved your sense of humor and intelligence and loyalty to those you love. He even revealed a few secrets he’d held on to since the beginning of your relationship that would have told you how completely wrapped around your finger you had him. Nothing was off limits. He let it all out.

By the time the sun had set over the horizon, you were staring at each other, neither in a rush to move or do anything else. He almost forgot about the night he’d planned—almost.

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing your nose and placing you on the floor.

He rushed around your home to gather the bath products he’d bought and brought them into the bathroom to fill the tub. As he filled it, he didn’t think much of what ingredients were meant for what; all he cared about was the scent. He knew which scents would help with stress and mood, and those were the ones he focused on. As the water filled and the bath bombs fizzed out, he placed the candles around the bathroom and lit each one.

Once he was sure everything was perfect, he went back to your bedroom and found you right where he left you, again with Bear in your arms. She loved the attention. Slowly he covered your eyes and led you to the bathroom, all the while you softly giggled.

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing. I just want tonight to be all about you. I want you to truly feel loved, taken care of, and safe.”

“Aw, babe.”

When he lowered his hands from your eyes, you gasped and brought yours to your mouth.

“Oh my god, Lewis.”

Before you was such a lovely sight, it brought tears to your eyes. The soft glow of the plethora of candles that were decorated around bathed the room in a romantic aura that had butterflies filling your belly. When your eyes dropped to the tiled floors, you found red and white rose petals leading to the back of the bathroom, where the dark bamboo colored flooring held the white porcelain tub.

“Babe.”

The tears in your eyes welled to capacity. Lewis dragged the pads of his thumbs just underneath your eyes to sweep them away.

“Come on.”

He led you along the flower path to the tub. The scent of plumeria, gardenia, vanilla, brown sugar, and a few other scents wrapped around you, making you moan.

“Babe, this is so sweet,” you whined. When he smiled and showed off those adorable dimples, you playfully dug your pointer into them, deepening them.

“Come on. Let’s get you in.”

Lewis stepped behind you, undid your robe, and helped you into the tub. As you sank down, you sighed out, relishing the feel of the hot water on your skin. Once you sat, you stretched and dipped your back to rest your neck against the cushion there.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, baby, thank you.”

Instead of leaving, Lewis went behind you, sat on the raised portion of the floor, and picked up your bath gloves. When you felt him begin to bathe you, you melted.

“You’re going to give me a bath?”

“Yep,” he replied.

“Sure, you can handle that?”

His smile was wide before he bit his bottom lip. “You know how focused I can be when I have a goal.”

“And what’s the goal, baby?”

Your eyes met. “The goal is to have the love of my life feel like the queen she is. So turn around, lay back, and let daddy do all the work.”

You did as you were told, and Lewis did as he promised—he did all the work. Lewis rubbed your muscles and massaged out all the kinks and lumps your body held with expertise. You always knew he was good with his hands. He could handle every weapon with ease and skill. That skill didn’t stop there; it stretched far beyond martial arts and weaponry. By the time he’d drained the tub and rinsed your body off, you could have floated away from how lite you felt.

He left you for a few minutes leaving you to wrap in a towel and make it back to your bedroom where you found your stock of body products replenished with a sweet note and gift box. Inside the gift box were a new robe and a sexy cami and short set. After lathering your skin with the lotion that smelled like coconuts, roses, and cocoa butter, you put the items on. When you turned around there, Lewis stood leaning on the door jamb, just quietly watching you.

“How long have you been there?”

“Since you popped that delectable thigh up there,” he said, nodding to the bed.

Smiling, you tried not to feel embarrassed. He’d been watching since the very beginning and hadn’t made one sound.

“How many times have I told you not to used your creepy martial arts stealth against me,” you teased as you walked across to him.

“Once or twice, but I get the best shows when you don’t know I’m there,” he cooed into your ear before he placed and kiss on your neck.

“Mmm, you smell so good,” Lewis added, biting your shoulder, making you moan and melt against him. His hand slid down the curve of your back to grip your backside, again making you moan.

“I like this,” he huskily mentioned.

“Not sure who you bought it for, me or you.”

Lewis’s grip tightened on your flesh, pulling you closer so you could feel the beginning stirs of his arousal.

“Mmm, is that also for me?”

You lifted a leg and wrapped it around him, making his grip change, so his fingertips gently brushed your sex. The action made both of you groan. When you felt his member thicken even more, you slipped your hand between you to rub your hand against his crotch. Lewis sucked in a breath, then grunted.

“Behave, princess,” he said before you felt him pinch your clit, sending a hot red blaze of desire through your body.

Lewis lowered your leg, turned, and led you out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he brought you into the living room, you stopped in your tracks to find the biggest pillow and blanket fort you’d ever seen. Excitement bubbled in you, which had you jumping and screeching as Bear scurried by your feet.

“Oh my god, baby. A pillow fort? Aaah!”

With that, you ran around the living room, looking at everything he’d managed to do. It was a small thing, but he knew how much you loved cheesy things like this. When you rounded to him, you leaped into his arms, wrapping your legs around him.

“Oh, baby, thank you. I love it,” you said, kissing all over his face.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s gonna stay up the whole week. It took forever.” Your smile was wide before you kissed him once, then twice. On the third kiss, you delved your tongue into his mouth and took control of a kiss you hoped showed him how much this and he meant to you. Lewis moaned on your mouth before his hands dropped to cup your ass. As if unconsciously, he angled you against his need, and in seconds you were making out and moaning. Lewis was the one to abruptly pull away and groan.

“Let’s eat.”

Dinner was amazing and perfect. While you ate, Lewis gave you complete control over what you watched. Not wanting to make him sit through some super sappy romance movie, you chose something with a good mix of action and romance. By the time you moved on to the second movie, dinner was finished, and you’d moved on to dessert. Again you melted when you saw just how much trouble he’d gone through for you today. The second gift he gave you was a gold bracelet with a heart with your first initial and his together, and the mandarin word forever etched on the back. That was when stray tears rolled down your face, to which Lewis whispered nothing but words of love, infatuation, and desire.

Halfway through their third movie, your hands began their search for the warmth of his flesh. It didn’t take long for your search to go from innocent to complete debauchery. You could tell your touch was having an effect when Lewis’s breathing sounded more and more labored, and the speed of his heartbeat increased underneath your cheek. The way his slim limbs looked in his boxer briefs had your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Slipping your hand down his abdomen and over every ab, you slinked your hand unto his underwear. Lewis groaned.

“What’re you doing, princess?”

“What does it feel like, daddy?”

He groaned, bit his bottom lip, then slightly arched when you gently gripped his shaft.

“This is supposed to be a calm night for you. it’s not supposed to be about--.”

His words paused, and breath hitched as your hand traveled lower to caress the balls of his manhood.

“God, you’re killing me, baby.”

“What am I doing?”

When he looked at you, the innocence in your eyes hid his member visibly pulsate. The helplessness you saw in his eyes had you instantly wet. You swung your leg over him and straddled him, letting the heat from your core sear his hardness, branding him as yours all over again. Lewis sucked in a breath and leaned back on one of the mountains of pillows.

“We don’t—you don’t have to—I just wanted to do something nice for you. I wanted to show you how much I love you,” Lewis rushed out with great effort.

“I love you so much for everything you did today. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it and you more than you’ll ever know,” you began.

You then leaned closer to him so your face was right in front of his. He was close enough to kiss. All he had to do was take it.

“It’s my turn to do something for you to show you how much I love you.”

Once the words came out, Lewis’s lips were on yours. He kissed you intensely and passionately. It was a kiss that stole your breath. In no time, everything had flipped, including your body. You were now underneath him with your legs spread. As Lewis kissed you, he rocked his body against you, fanning the flames of your desire.

“I love you,” Lewis whispered as you peeled his underwear off his hips. Lewis assisted you in sliding them lower until he’d kicked them off.

Once you felt the heaviness of his need rest on your pubis, you moaned and wrapped a leg around his back. Lewis didn’t wait. In seconds he’d managed to pull off the shorts you wore and fling them somewhere in the room. From then, there was no need to go slowly.

“Make love to me,” you whispered.

Lewis locked eyes with yours and thrust forward, connecting your bodies. Both of you sighed out as if you’d found your sanctuary after a long day.

“I love you,” you whispered on a strangled breath.

His response was a kiss that spoke of nothing but languid need, while his thrusts said he needed you and needed you now. His thrusts were swift but deep, and they worked to drive you insane. Within minutes you were clinging to him, sinking your nails into his back. Every connection you clenched around him while panting his name. On every retreat, he whimpered yours.

“You’re my world, Y/N.”

You could see the truth of what he spoke in his eyes, and it brought you closer to the edge. Lewis sensed it and doubled down on his efforts to make you come undone.

“Do you love me, princess?”

“So much, baby,” you whispered before you gasped loudly.

Your back arched, and seconds later, you were clenching around him as your orgasm tore through you. It was so powerful it dragged Lewis down with you. The two of you laid on the soft blankets of your fort, catching your breath. Lewis traced lazy patterns into your skin before he shifted onto his side, taking you with him. As you gazed into each other eyes, you fell in love with him all over again.

“Thank you, baby.”

“I’d do anything for you. Remember, I’m always here for you. You win, I win. You’re happy; I’m over the moon. You’re unhappy; my world is dark. Confide in me. I got you.”

He kissed your nose and pulled you closer. It didn’t take long for you both to doze off completely exhausted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#i got you one shot #lewis tan #lewis tan fanfiction #lewis tan one shot #lewis tan x reader #lewis tan x you #lewis tan x black reader #black fanfiction #fluff fanfic #lewis tan smut

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gaiuswrites · 3 years

Note

Good morning ✨

Fic title: Surrender

Hiiii, omg thank you for the suggestion 💙✨

Okay PHEW. Here’s my thought: Din. Enemies to Lovers. But tbh, it’s more like enemies to… less hateful enemies. Idk. Here it is:

It is on heavy feet that Din trudges through the town. It’s dusty, dirty—everything, every surface, coated thick with an inch of the stuff. The metal of his body chimes like a booted spur, the tremble of his beskar echoing tinny in the canyon surrounding the village.

People pretend not to see him, pretend he isn’t there. A phantom, they part around him as he passes through. He suspects they all assume he’s there for one of them— one of their fathers, their cousins. Someone. He suspects they’ve all got their guard up, ready to fight or fly if need be— ready to get scrappy in a brawl if it comes to it.

They’d be wrong, though.

He’s just there to get supplies. Din is tired. He’s just there to refuel. That’s it.

He sighs as a woman tucks her son behind her skirted body, hiding the little boy away. The woman looks tough, stony— she’s all sun spots and thick hair. Tanned, like him. Brow eyed, like him too.

He wants to stop. He wants to tell her that he won’t hurt her, that he’s not gonna hurt anyone— that he’s hungry and tired and here for rations and fuel. That’s it.

But the ammo marking the belt slung over his chest and the rifle ominously holstered upon his back tell a different story— paint a far more threatening picture.

The bounty hunter guesses he can’t blame her. Her instincts are good; he’d probably react the same.

He walks on, nearing the depot, when something— some primal part of him— is triggered, a warning whisper breathing up his ear. Din stops dead in his tracks, listening.

Listening...

Slowly, carefully, he turns. His visor scans the area, the pedestrians milling about, the buildings half crumbling in the heat. And it is when he pivots nearly all the way around that the first shot rings out.

Ping.

The bullet hits his shoulder pauldron, ricocheting off the armor, and the townspeople run screaming—cowering away, seeking shelter wherever they can find it.

Din’s thoughts trail to the mother and her son as he rips his blaster from it’s slot at his hip. He’s scanning for the shooter, but he’s searching for them as well— they were close by, they were right there; are they alright? were they hurt?— but his concern for them is sucked dry when the second bullet whizzes through the air, landing a direct hit on his breastplate.

He grunts, staggering backwards, before finding his footing and charging in the direction of the bullet fire. He sweeps over the different stories and levels, desperate and hunting for the source— the singe in his chest aching where he was shot, stinging despite the beskar plating him. They must be using jacketed hollow points, he surmises. They must be dangerous— out for blood. Out for him.

“Mando.”

His heart is cinched like a vice at the sound of his moniker, dripping ugly from your lips. Mando. It sounds like Death— and like Death on his pale steed, you emerge from your sniper’s nest to face him.

You’re a girl— a woman— and it’s clear, from the rifle in your hands and the ire burning out from your taut frame like flame:

you aim to see Din dead.

“If you’re looking for the kid, I don’t have him. He’s gone. The bounty’s been dropped,” Din reasons, but not without dropping his pistol pointed at your center.

A fleck of confusion momentarily twists your expression before it disappears, replaced by a black fierceness that darkens your entire face. “Don’t know anything about a kid. I’m here for you.”

You and Din circle each other like sharks, round and round, kicking up dirt as you pace. He’s gruff when he asks, “who sent you then?”

“Came on my own,” you reply tersely. You’re both sizing each other up— looking for weakness in his beskar - his sides, where only his flight suit peeks through, his hamstrings, his Achilles - and possible strategies for swiping that monstrosity of a gun from your clutches.

“Why? Why here— now?”

Your breathing is coming hard, clawing tight at your chest— the leather guard you wear over your breasts creaking with the rise of your ribs.

“Nevarro,” you grit.

Din says nothing— there’s nothing to say. You’re vague and angry and he is clueless. Ignorant. Naive.

His speechlessness pisses you off even more— you mistake it for rudeness. You mistake is for boasting. You rage with it.

“Nevarro,” you repeat, the muscle in your jaw tensing, ripping under skin. “You think the galaxy fucking revolves around you, Mandalorian? You and your fucking covert? I had people there— I had family. I—”

You seethe. The crossfire of that night, that night your life was undone and you were made anew, still whistles through your mind. Din can see it, the ghost of the fall out, gaping in your eyes.

Fuck.

“I’ve lost people too, I’m sorry—”

“I don’t give a shit who you’ve lost,” you bite out, words like bile. Acidic. They boil and bubble into the sand beneath your boots. “I’m making amends. This—” you cock your rifle with a calloused palm. “This is for them.”

And then from there, SOMEHOW omg somehow they have to work together. I think maybe the town gets ambushed and they’re captured??!?!!! Like some sort of gang of bandits catches them by surprise and they’re tied up and dragged along idk. They eventually have to work together to free themselves and one another, even though she’s still hellbent for revenge after the whole MASSIVE SHOOT OUT at Nevarro where the reader lost family. It’s a revenge story baybee. Nothing like a feral woman seeking vengeance, even if it’s misplaced. (Grief does that. It blinds you until all you see is red.)

✨ send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it ✨

#WHAT IS THIS #NO IDEA #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din Djarin #drabble #fic title game

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mikuplushes · 2 years

Note

nick im dying to know your thoughts on elsewhere

completely unfiltered here i go!

first some praise

skeleton is the best song on the album and one of my favorite sio songs of all time

magic 8 fucks!!!!!!!!

playing with bad luck is one of their all time best songs. fucking visceral

i think people who don’t like why do i are just allergic to pop music and probably don’t like upside down. it’s so much fun!!!! serotonin machine sound-wise!!!! also cody’s strongest vocal moment in any sio song he’s fucking AWESOME

simply by the title, taste of the good life feels like it wouldnt be that good of a song but i REALLY like it, it’s so fun to listen to

i like it less than i thought i would but it has definitely grown on me since the release

who’s in control was a risk but it’s really cool to see them make a song that sounds like that!!! i like it

catch a break sounds different than i thought it would from that one thing cody posted and i liked it less than i thought i would but that hasnt stopped me from still becoming violently attached to the lyrics so i still REAAAALLY like the song

and now some criticisms

not a huge fan of the color scheme and the album cover is a little bit ugly fjjsd

i think they chose to do a multiple-color scheme instead of just one color as they previously had as like a symbolic theme and because everyone kept trying to guess which One color they’d want to do but they coulda chosen better colors 😔

i think aesthetically they tried to be unique and unintentionally ended up doing the opposite bc literally one time i walked into forever 21 and looked at the clothes went “wow welcome to elsewhere i guess”

maxx really could have come up with more of his own ideas but he did a bit of borrowing without crediting,,

the lore thing they’re trying to pull is not clearly organized and hard to follow unless you’re deep into it, which a lot of fans don’t have the energy to do. it’s hard for an average fan to consume like surface-level. plus the way they’ve been pulling it out so gradually it was quick for people to lose interest in the concept. the fact that three seemingly characters didn’t show up until the third music video was not a good decision. there wasn’t enough to hold a lot of people’s attention up to that point

loose cannon had the potential to be even better than it already is, it could have gone even harder! no i will not elaborate on this one but it is still one of my favorites on the album it gets me GOING

them + their label thought elsewhere would be more successful than this but also like. so did i! but they’ve been uh. making some interesting decisions lately and idk who’s influence it is but some fans are definitely feeling alienated by it, myself included

most sio ballads arent my personal cup of tea because im just generally not a fan of ballads and better than this is my least favorite thus far sorry not sorry

peekaboo needed more drums in the verses. more energy. vibe-wise it feels like the hourglass of the album and i have the same criticism for hourglass. i love the lyrics tho

not a fan of as good as it gets oops

ok i think thats just about everything. it sounds pretty harsh toward the end there huh gjdjskwk i still like the album though

#i have been too nervous to say a lot of this on twitter lol i have been thinking about it tho #twitter scares me and ive started distancing myself from sio fans #most of my twitter followers are sio fans tho #oh whale #i also quit being a mod recently

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blitzturtles · 3 years

Text

Title: Night Off

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: DC Comics

Pairing(s): JayDick

Summary: “If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Notes: I was having a chronic pain flare, asked my wife who I should inflict it on, and her answer was, “Jotaro and/or Dick Grayson”. So here’s the Dick Grayson version. Btw, I’m doing a writing / fic giveaway! Check out this post to see how to enter. Goes until 8.25.21!

It’s extremely rare for Dick to pull out of a planned patrol, but there are nights when he can’t handle the thought, much less actually suit up and venture out into Gotham. Tonight is one of those nights. Old injuries are rearing their ugly head, making themselves too known to be ignored, and he knows that going out will be a mistake. He’s more likely to cause trouble than he is to prevent it, and he’s not about to cut into someone else’s patrol just to have someone come to his rescue. That’s time that could be better spent, and he hates the idea of anyone knowing the degree of pain he’s dealing with. To know that it cripples him to the point where walking is a slow, agonizing process. It feels like a weakness that he’s not prepared to share.

Bruce has chronic pain. That’s something Dick’s known for years. Possibly since he was a child, but the man never seems to be stopped or even slowed down by it. He’s never missed a patrol. Never needed someone to fish him out of a bad situation brought on by his knee completely giving out on him (not that Dick admitted to that being the problem; he’d lied and claimed it had been freshly injured.) It’s frustrating to watch, and it sets a precedent that Dick can’t keep up with. It makes him feel pathetic on nights like these, and it’s all he can do to try to distract himself with crappy television. Up until the moment when something crashes into his apartment through his-- previously locked-- window.

“If you’re not here to kill me, then get out!” Dick calls without moving. He should probably double check as to who his intruder is, but the idea of moving is somehow more unappealing than the idea of one of his enemies actually managing to break into his apartment. He’ll take the risk of potential kidnapping if it means that they’ll do most of the bodily lifting for him.

Sure enough, Jason shows up in the doorway of his living room a moment later with his helmet at his side, but his cowl still fixed in place. “You’re not dressed,” is the first thing that comes out of his mouth, and it makes Dick’s eyebrows climb up toward his hairline.

“Are you my babysitter now?”

“No,” Jason snarls, “I’m not fucking Bruce.”

“Alright then,” Dick shrugs and tries to leave it at that. The keyword being ‘try’, because Jason never could leave well enough alone.

“Why aren’t you out?”

“Changed my mind. Am I not allowed to do that?” Shit. He sounds unnecessarily snappish. More so aloud than he does in his own head, which he knows is the pain getting the better of him, but that doesn’t mean he wants it to reflect in his tone. He heaves a sigh, “Sorry, just wasn’t up for it tonight, you know? Think I twisted my ankle a little last night, and I thought I would take a night. See if the swelling goes down.”

Jason frowns as he mulls over those words, but he doesn’t outright reject them. “Okay,” he starts, and Dick almost sighs in relief, if only internally, “So that was bullshit.”

Fuck.

“Jason-”

“We can do this all night, so you can keep lying to me, or you can just tell me what’s going on,” Jason’s gaze shifts from Dick to the rest of his apartment, undoubtedly looking for some kind of clue. Or possibly some sort of trouble. Neither of which he finds, because Dick’s too stubborn to ice his joints, and the compression wraps he has on are hidden by his clothes.

“I’m not kidding about my ankle,” Dick says after a moment of contemplating his word choice.

“You’re just lying about the cause,” Jason concludes after a moment. His head is cocked to the side, but it’s apparent that he’s fixated on the offending joint, “And it’s not the only thing bothering you.”

The problem with Jason is that he’s far more observant than most people give him credit for. And intelligent, for that matter. It’s easy to forget that Jason thinks Shakespeare is a fun read, and that he’ll spend hours debating the topic with Alfred, if given the chance (and Alfred is always willing). There’s also the fact that Jason tends to pick and choose when he’s going to press an issue; often because he intends to come back around to it, but only when the situation turns in his favor. But the favor here has always been Jason’s. Dick’s stuck on the couch of his apartment, unwilling to move unless absolutely necessary, because his knee will feel like it’s being torn in half if he does, and that’s to say nothing about either ankle.

“I don’t really want to talk about this, Jason,” Dick uses the name for emphasis this time. With a short, clipped tone that he hopes conveys just how badly he would like Jason to leave, but Jason’s also nothing if not obstinate.

“Have you tried ice yet? Or heat?”

The words startle Dick, and he looks to Jason with far too many emotions readable on his face. Jason merely raises an eyebrow in return, and Dick sighs, “No. I don’t think I can get up.”

“Oh,” Jason breathes the word, like he hadn’t expected the answer. And he probably hadn’t. He’d probably expected Dick to continue to deny reality. To lie through his teeth until Jason gave up (which wasn’t going to happen, but that’s beyond the point now.) “Okay. Got any ice in the freezer?”

“Yes- what?”

Jason’s gone in an instant, heading for the kitchen with little concern for Dick’s desire to be left alone. He comes back a minute later with several bags full of freshly scooped ice. He passes them to Dick, one at a time, while Dick slowly places them on various offending limbs.

There’s a dumbstruck expression on Dick’s face, as if he can’t fully process what’s happening, which might have to do with why he doesn’t stop it either. Jason disappears again, this time into the bathroom, and Dick just- let’s him. He’s not sure what else to do now that Jason’s set his mind to- whatever it is he’s set his mind to.

“Here,” Jason says when he comes back with a paper cup of water and a handful of pills. It takes Dick a moment to remember that, a. His first aid kit is in the bathroom just like most peoples’, and the leap for Jason figuring that out isn’t really a leap and b. That Jason’s come here for a (very rough) patch up job more than once, which means he already knows exactly where he can find said kit.

Dick swallows the painkillers with little prompting and passes the cup back to Jason, who must dispose of it in the trash, given that he disappears into the kitchen again. When he comes back, he looks at Dick with that sort of halfcocked, curious expression he gets.

“Anything else I can do?”

“Uh- no. I think you’ve done plenty,” and Dick means that. Jason’s done more for him than Dick would have done for himself, and the ice actually feels kind of nice on the throbbing joints. Combined with the compression, it’s the best relief he’s gotten all day. Maybe the medication will actually do something for a change.

“Good,” Jason says, and Dick assumes that’s the end of that. That he’ll go right back out the window that he came in, but, instead, Jason flops on the couch cushion nearest to him and nods at the long forgotten TV. “What’re we watching?”

“We?”

“Yeah,” Jason says without missing a beat, “I got nothing better to do, and distractions can help with pain. Trust me.”

And two things occur to Dick right then. The first being that Jason isn’t just doing this out of some obligation. He wants to help. Wants to make Dick feel better, and Dick doesn’t know what to do with that information. And the second is that Jason knows, on a very personal level, what it’s like to be in so much pain that his body doesn’t cooperate with him, and of course he does. Jason’s death had been far from pleasant, and he still wears the scars of it. There’s no doubt he feels it in his bones and damaged cartilage. Never mind all the other injuries since then, and there’s a long, long list that Dick’s personally seen the fallout of several times.

“I don’t know,” Dick says once his brain starts processing in the right direction again, “CSI?”

Jason snorts, “What, want to spend all night yelling at the screen?”

“Maybe,” Dick says with a shrug, “You got something better?”

“Hell yeah,” Jason reaches for the remote, and Dick passes it to him without question, “We’re gonna watch some good ole-fashioned zombies.”

And there goes Dick’s eyebrows again, “Really?”

“Sometimes a man just needs something a little autobiographical, quit judging,” and Jason says it with such a severe tone that Dick can’t help but laugh.

Truthfully, it’s the best he’s felt all night, and that doesn’t change once the movie-- however bad it may be-- starts. He catches Jason with a small, half-smile tugging at the corner of one side of his lips, and it helps Dick to relax a bit, to know that he isn’t being judged.

#jaydick #jason todd #dick grayson #batfam #dc comics #blitzwrites #blitz

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idyllicstarker · 4 years

Text

“Come on, let’s go on a drive” • Starker

Warnings: One use of foul language, one comment with implict sexual connotations, otherwise none, just a healthy douse of fluff

“Come on, let’s go on a drive.”

Peter blinked surprised, head lifting from the soft pillow underneath his cheek, to look over his boyfriend. Tony was kneeling on the edge of the bed with a soft smile, his eyes still looked clouded with sleep, as he beckoned Peter to get up. The man was still in the boxers he’d slept in, but he looked as serious as ever.

Peter shifted under the sheets, hand reaching out to tap his phone screen, squinting at the sudden light as he tried to make out what the time read.

“It's 2am Tony”, he said quietly, rolling over again to face him.

“Okay.. so let’s go on a drive.”

Peter let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. “Come back to bed love, you were asleep five minutes ago.”

“Yes but you weren’t”, Tony stressed, his voice no louder than a whisper. Crawling forward he placed a kiss to Peter’s head. “I know you’re worrying over your final grades. So, I thought we could go on a little drive, I know that calms you down, especially when it’s raining��, he hummed softly.

Peter felt very warm - very loved; Tony spoke so gently to him. In all fairness, he was stressed, he’d been worrying all night, and Tony was right, he hadn’t been able to sleep. As the man let out snores, Peter had tossed and turned, and when he’d woken Tony up with all the movement, he’d profusely apologised.

What he hadn’t expected was for Tony to get out of bed. As silence fell over the room, Peter confirmed that it was indeed raining, he could hear the quiet pitter-patter against the window. It was soothing, calming even, and maybe that would lull him to sleep instead. Maybe.

As tempted as he was, he knew Tony was tired. Back to back meetings had wore him out, to make him drive him around so late at night just seemed selfish.

But Tony saw the hesitance in Peter’s eyes, and decided he wasn’t going to give an option. He tore the sheets off the boy, laughing at the way he squirmed.

“It’s cold Tony”, Peter whined, but the smile on his lips showed he wasn’t all that mad.

“Well then put a hoodie on and hurry up”, Tony prompted, gently pulling on Peter’s hands to help him sit up, before climbing off the bed to get into some of his own clothes.

***

The soft purr of the engine rang out into the quiet night. Peter winced, glad they didn’t live around anyone and turned his gaze out the window.

“We don’t have to do this Tones, I promise, I’m fine”, he muttered softly, the guilt obviously setting in.

He’d pulled on one of Tony’s old sweatshirts, the sleeves bunched up in his fists, and the hood pulled atop his head so that only a few chestnut curls could be seen peeking out. The man glanced over at him, and couldn’t help the affectionate smile that rose onto his face at how adorable he looked.

His face was slightly flush from exhaustion, but Tony could see how his brain was still whirring, so the drive was needed, even if Peter denied it.

He decided not to reply, simply pulling out of the garage and out onto the road. Peter let out a small huff at being ignored, crossing his arms over his chest. Tony laughed softly at the sight.

“Peter baby”, he muttered softly “relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax knowing you have four meetings tomorrow, and yet we’re out here at 2am because you’re too stubborn for your own good.”

For a moment the car was silent. Tony’s steady gaze focusing on the road in front of them. He’d put his glasses on before they’d left the house but they were slightly crooked in his haste to get out. He knew better than to drive without them though, especially if he had Peter in the car with him.

“I just wanted to help…”, the man finally whispered. He’d deflated in his seat, no longer as excited as he had been, and all at once a wave of guilt washed over Peter. “I just… I’m sorry, we can go back”, he continued quietly.

A fool. That’s what Peter was. Tony was doing this for him, he was always so good to him, and he still couldn’t appreciate it.

“I don’t want to go back”, Peter mumbled quietly, raising his hand to gently fix Tony’s glasses on his nose, and leaning over the console to press a kiss to his cheek. It was still cold from the shock of leaving the warmth of their bedroom, and so he moved to turn on the heater.

“Do you think you can reschedule the meetings tomorrow?”, he asked gently after a moment.

“If it makes you feel better.”

“It would.”

“Then I will.”

Peter nodded his head, letting out a small breath of relief. “We can sleep in. And I’ll make you breakfast in the morning”, he offered, almost as an ultimatum.

Tony huffed out a laugh, taking his right hand away from the wheel so he could rest in on Peter’s thigh. A smaller, warmer hand, found its way on top of it a second later, lacing their fingers together. “How could I ever say no to breakfast”, he hummed.

Peter laughed gently, resting his head back against the rest, titling his head so he could watch the raindrops fall slowly down the glass of the window.

His thumb gently ran over Tony’s knuckles, brushing over the grooves and scars left behind from a life of hard work.

“You can put on some music if you want”, Tony spoke after a good few minutes of silence, the sound of the rain hitting the top of the car, and the soft hum of the engine.

“I didn’t bring my phone.”

“Have you forgotten what a radio is?”, Tony asked teasingly. Peter giggled, closing his eyes as he yawned, and shook his head.

“Alright old man, we’ll do it your way”, he muttered, slowly opening his eyes to gaze over the man with a sleepy look of affection, before he leaned forwards to turn the radio on.

Within seconds, loud rock music was blasting through the speakers, Peter jumping twice his height as he scrambled to turn it down.

“Jesus Christ Tony”, he hissed, once it was at a more acceptable level. The man himself was laughing hysterically, the sides of his eyes crinkled in the way that Peter adored so much. Tony had such a cute smile, he didn’t know how anyone could ever disagree with that.

He rolled his eyes, moving his left hand to grip at the steering wheel, to make sure Tony didn’t swerve. He trusted him enough not to, knowing he wouldn’t put his life in danger like that. But he also knew that if they did get into an accident, Tony would do everything in his power to make sure Peter was as safe as he could be. Even if it meant directing the car in such a way that the hit was directed to Tony. Therefore, Peter acted as the balance, he wouldn’t allow that to happen. The road was largely deserted, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“You done?”, he asked, unamused as Tony began to calm down. The older male snickered, glancing over at the boy and smiling softly.

“You love me really”, he said simply, watching as Peter took his hand back off the wheel, to rest over Tony’s on his lap once again,

The boy made a show of pretending to think about it, letting out a hum as he gave the man’s fingers a squeeze. “I guess you’re right”, he ended up shrugging.

Tony scoffed at that, looking out at the approaching lights of the city.

“What?”, Peter asked with a soft giggle, “maybe if you didn’t leave your music blasting all the time, so that when I go to turn it on, I won’t have a heart attack… I’d love you more.”

“The car’s sound proof, no one can hear it…”

“I can!”, he interjected, pouting slightly.

They pulled up to a red light and Tony huffed. “Smile sweetheart, if you frown and pout all the time you’ll end up looking ugly like me”, he said softly, leaning across the console to press a kiss to the sweet lips that were basically inviting him to do it, so Peter couldn’t complain.

“Eyes on the road mister”, Peter muttered when he’d pulled away, but he of course, would never complain about a few extra kisses. “And you’re not ugly, so stop saying that. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen”, he hummed.

“You have to say that, I’m your boyfriend”, Tony corrected.

“Oh please, the only reason I’m your boyfriend is because you’re sexy”, he teased, causing Tony to gasp as if he was offended, pulling off again as the light turned green.

“Then what happens when my looks start to slide?”, he questioned.

Peter raised an eyebrow, pretending to be very confused as he turned his face away. “I thought they already had”, he mumbled - of course it was all playful, a deliberate attempt to rile him up.

Tony knew that all too well, and began to laugh. “Hey now Peter, I don’t care if I’m seventy, and my chest is sagging, and my stomach’s round, and I have no hair, you're gonna love me anyway”, he said, nudging him gently.

Peter snorted, moving to rest his head on Tony’s shoulder, after having pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I will, I’ll always love you. I don’t love you for your look:, even if the small gray hairs poking out of your head do sinful things to my thoughts. I love for who you are. So yes, even when you’re seventy, I’ll be right here beside you”, he whispered gently, nuzzling his cheek against his shoulder gently.

The rain had begun to pick up a bit more now. The raindrops sounded heavier against the roof. The buttery glow of the streetlights on their faces became more frequent as they turned into the more populated streets.

This was a conversation they’d had many times. Tony was usually the one to express his doubts. He may be egotistical most days of his life, but Peter had quickly figured out that he was a slight bit insecure about their age difference. He was always quick to reassure him, despite the jokes he made. Peter wasn’t going anywhere. And besides, he was pretty sure Tony Stark couldn’t age badly, it just seemed impossible.

“I know Peter. I do. And I thank you for that”, he said softly, tilting his head to press a kiss to his temple. He felt the way his cheek squished further into the material of his shirt as Peter smiled.

“Don’t thank me for loving you. It’s pretty hard not to.”

“I beg to differ.”

A roll of his eyes, and Peter was poking at his side gently. “Shush, I don’t have the energy to tell you all the reasons why I love you right now”, he huffed out.

Again Tony laughed, turning around a corner so that they could go back the way they came. They weren’t planning to go anywhere in particular, but he knew Peter preferred driving in the more secluded areas. They were more dangerous of course, but they made a great team against anyone who would try to cross them. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave the self loathing to another day.”

“Tonyyy”, Peter whined.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I love you too sweetheart”, he muttered instead.

Peter nodded his head, happy with that answer as he leaned forwards to change the station, ignoring Tony’s grunt. “You said I could play music, we’re playing what I want”, he said adamantly.

When he found a station to settle on, he gasped quietly hearing the song. He was up in an instant, Tony having to blink and register the fact that all the energy had seemed to come back to him. “I love this song”, he giggled, moving to turn it up just slightly.

The slight scrunch of Tony's nose showed it wasn’t quite to his taste, but with the way Peter was grinning, and making up an elaborate dance routine in his seat, he didn’t have the heart to complain. He was wiggling his hips to the beat, singing along quietly, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He really did love him so much.

He turned it up just slightly, quite enjoying the personal concert he was receiving.

As the next song came on, Peter apparently coined onto the fact that he knew it. And was begging the man to sing with him. They bickered for a moment, but of course, Tony lost at the sight of the wide puppy eyes, and suddenly they were dancing and singing together.

By the time Peter had calmed down, Tony’s voice was hoarse, but it was worth it because the other seemed less tense. He was yawning slightly, Tony turning the music down as the younger male cuddled up under his hoodie, and curled into his seat. Tired eyes watched as they passed familiar buildings, but they were slowly starting to blur.

“Do you think I’m going to pass everything tomorrow?”, he asked quietly after a moment. He seemed timid and shy, turning his body to look over Tony, as he yawned once again.

“I know you’re going to pass tomorrow Petey. With flying colours, top of your class”, he corrected.

The boy sighed out, pretending to seem uninterested with that reply, but Tony noticed the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Be serious”, he huffed, and Tony laughed quietly.

“I am sweetheart. I know you better than anyone. You can say I have high expectations but I know your abilities and what you can do. Even if you don’t see it. And I know you’ve tried your hardest no matter what. And that’s all you can do. Your best. I’ve seen your sleepless nights studying, the way you’ve overworked yourself… you’re going to be absolutely fine. I know you are.”

“But what if my best isn't enough.” The look on Peter’s face almost broke his heart. Tony knew, the effort he’d put into his grades, and to fall now, Tony knw would wound the boy much worse than any enemy of the boy could.

“It will be”, he soothed, gently moving to take Peter’s hand in his, and being the smooth knuckles up his lips, pressing a comforting kiss over them. “Everyone, including me, will be proud of you, no matter what you get. If you get into M.I.T great. It’s your dream, and you deserve to live it. If you don’t, then fuck them. You’ve tried so hard everyday, and we all know your so much better than any grade that you get on a piece of paper”, he said.

As the streetlight washed over Peter’s face, he could see the blush had only grown stronger. Spreading over his nose and to his ears. But what got Tony most of all, was the tears that were in his love’s eyes.

“Baby…”, he muttered quietly, his entire expression softening at the sight. He ended up pulling over, onto the side of the road, shutting off the engine so he could give him his undivided attention.

“You really think so?”, Peter ignored his concern, instead focusing on his words. He sounded so trusting of Tony as always, but there was clearly something holding him back from believing in his own worth. It was something that Tony had become well accustomed to by this point. Something he’d tried to make sure wouldn’t grow too heavy on the boy's shoulders. It took a lot of encouragement, praise and overall a healthy support system, something Tony was more than happy to provide.

“I know so, sweetheart”, he confirmed. “Your intelligence is unmatched-”

“Apart from yours of course”, Peter giggled wetly.

Tony shook his head, usually appreciating the ego boost, but not right now. “Peter, honey, sweetheart, baby, love bunny.. you’re so much smarter than I will ever be. And at 18 years old too. You’re amazing. I’m jealous of that little brain of yours. And if M.I.T can’t see that, regardless of your grades, then they’re idiots.” (Peter hadn’t let him interfere with the process, he wanted to do this on his own - the only thing he did was send a glowing recommendation that was of course only filled with praise)

Peter was sobbing by the end of his little speech, and Tony took off his belt, moving to take him into his arms. He held the boy as he trembled, rubbing his back, and letting him cry off all the stress he’d been holding in.

When he was done, and he pulled back, his eyes were puffy, but as always, they held so much love for the man beside him in the car. “Thank you Tones…”, he mumbled quietly. What else was he supposed to say. There were no words he could give to truly display the way he felt.

But Tony didn’t want anything else. He just wanted Peter happy. That was the most important thing. “I love you”, he said softly in the end, moving his thumbs to stroke softly over his cheeks, and wipe away the rest of his tears.

“I love you too”, Peter muttered gently, laughing as he caught sight of himself in the reflection on the window.

“I’m a mess”, he added after, shaking his head, as he caught Tony’s lips against his own.

When he pulled away, Tony winked at him. “My beautiful mess”, he offered instead.

Peter rolled his eyes, but loved the phrase nevertheless. “I guess we can say that”, he hummed playfully, looking over Tony with all the love and affection the small body could possibly give.

Tony could see past that however, noticing how tired he was now. The good thing was, he did seem to be a lot better. And he supposed his words had taken some good effect. At least he could do that right. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearing 3:30am now, so home was a given, even if he was quite enjoying their time in the car. He wanted Peter at least a little rested, he didn’t want him collapsing from exhaustion. He started up the car again, mumbling about how they should get him home, as he pulled off onto the street.

Peter didn’t try to stop him, or interject. His body was heavy as he leaned back in his seat, rolling his neck as his gaze tried to focus on the lights of the city. They all fused together eventually, his eyes slowly closing despite how hard he was trying to fight it. Tony’s hand still lay comforting on his thigh, and the soft purr of the car was quite a nice background to his fading thoughts.

As the city lights began to diminish, and the car rolled forwards towards home, sleep won the battle over Peter’s body. He knew that whatever happened tomorrow, he’d made Tony proud, and really, that’s all he’d ever wanted to do.

***

Tag list: @itsmexavie @icandoakickflip @peterparker-starks

#starker #starker fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #skylar writes

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