#whatever you can imagins it was cooking for a few weeks then i got really sick be grateful

[pupovkitty]

what? he needs to reach his quota of enrichment for the day somehow (the cost would be kdj's leg)

[dinogoofymutated]

SFW!Colossus/Fem!Reader

I've been infected with another fictional man the way in which I pumped this out was ridiculous. I happened to re watch the scene in the movies where the government breaks into the mansion and seeing Piotr act like a big brother/dad to all the kids really got to me. That and the Deadpool movies (even though I thinks he's a little stuffy in those.) I even rewatched the episode he had in the animated series so that I knew I would get his character right and DAMN ugh god I juts have a thing for big men with soft hearts. especially the ones who are family oriented.

ALSO HOLY SHIT TY FOR 600 FOLLOWERS???? when did yall get here???? I swear I was at like 48 two weeks ago lmao time flies when you're thirsty for the X men I guess!! TWs: None? No pronouns mentioned but I went ahead and labeled it as fem because it's basically about kids forcefully adopting you as their mom. Kids having night terrors mentioned.

Can you imagine sort of just being adopted by the students at the mansion as mutant mom?? At that point you don't really get a choice. Like you start out being very patient with these kids and making sure to keep bandaids, burn cream, pain meds and all of that because one way or another something is gonna happen- and you want to be prepared.

And then you start making breakfast. I feel like normally they probably have a schedule for who has breakfast duty but if you wake up and can't go back to sleep and you take over no one really cares. More sleep for them!!

And then a few times turns into every morning. And you're setting out ketchup for one kids eggs and syrup for another ones hashbrowns- and making sure not to cook with nuts and make sure there's at least three different things on the table that are Kosher or gluten free. Keeping an eye on everyone as they come to get food and noting who did and did not make it to breakfast this morning so that you can make sure they eat later-

And one day you're waking up at 5am and getting ready for the day so you can go make breakfast like always, and you look in the mirror at some point and just realise, holy fuck, when did you become a parent?

It's such a regular thing for kids to call you mom at that point, a knowing how so many of them have come from rough backgrounds, it makes you really happy to know they find comfort in you and will come find you if they need comforting.

And then there's Piotr. Big, strong, Piotr. Piotr who wakes up before dawn and does chores around the mansion in the early morning air. You can take the man out of the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the man. He does the lawn care, chops wood, takes care of whatever animals that might need feeding, replaces the feed in the bird feeder.

Piotr who makes sure to stop by the kitchen to share a small cup of coffee with you before he does chores. Piotr who hangs Hummingbird feeders right outside the kitchen windows because you mentioned you missed the ones your grandmother used to hang. Just Piotr, being strong and masculine and an absolute sweetheart.

He reminds me of that one quote that heard somewhere about masculinity being about protecting femininity, not rejecting it??? That one!!!

Kids call him dad all the time, and even though yall aren't even together, you become the parents of the school. Scott and Jean?? Love them, but they don't have that same kind of parent energy.

It's such a regular thing for kids to find the two of you interacting one way or another. Someone woke up way too early and enters the kitchen to find yall during your coffee, and there's a sweet moment with yall telling them to go back to bed, or offering to make them a quick breakfast. Maybe if they're really young Piotr will offer to tuck them in. He might be really blunt when telling them there are no monsters, but will be a little more gentle when you set a hand on his arm and give him a bit of a look.

The kiddo asks for both of you to tuck them in and you obviously aren't going to refuse them. Which leads to everyone wanting both of you to tuck them in and soon enough you two are doing curfew checks instead of the professor.

It's becomes so regular for the students to treat you two as their parents, and no one actually believes it when they find out that no, you're not a couple. So, they do what kids do and try to get you two together.

First it starts with making sure you two are sat together during everything they can get away with. Then it moves on to things like mistletoe (out of season, Piotr mistook it as an accidental bloom made by one of the agrokinesis kids and took it down) and then more mischievous plans like telling one of you that the other needed help with one thing or another, knowing that either one of you would help out at the drop of a hat. Sureee, they were lying, but you two didn't know that. (most of the time)

The kids just want to see their parents happy and in love. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? It's not like You and Piotr hadn't been helplessly pining for the other the entire time anyway.

You sigh deeply once you finally sneak out of the dorm room, Piotr right behind you. The tall man takes extra care to shut the door very gently, making sure it clicks in place just as silently.

"I thought we were never going to get her to sleep." You whisper to him. One of the youngest girls attending the school had a rather difficult time with night terrors, and would struggle to fall asleep without being tucked in. When you and Piotr were doing curfew checks tonight, she was the only kiddo still awake, and she had practically begged both of you to stay with her untill she finally did fall asleep. It couldn't be just one of you, It had to be both. No matter how many rooms you both had to check tonight, you would never have left her shaken up in such a state. You just hadn't expected it to take an hour.

"Illyana had similar dreams as a little one. It takes time for children to overcome it." Piotr whispers back as you begin to walk down the hallway to check the rest of the rooms. Even when he whispers, his voice is strong and hard to keep quiet. You know there's truth to what he says, and yet you can't help but wish you could do something more to help her with her nightmares. You rub some warmth into your arms anxiously as you think about it, surprised when you feel the warm weight of Piotr's hand settle in between your shoulder blades.

"You're worrying again." He states, frowning slightly when you look up at him. You send him a resigned smile, before it quickly falls as you look away.

"I can't help it. I worry about all of them, her especially. They just... deserve so much more than their lot in life." You say. Piotr hums in response, his thumb brushing idly against your back.

"Their life like us, you mean? Mutants?" His question makes you wince.

"No. Yes? I don't know. I just... I just wish that we could give them more than... this." You say, waving your hands to motion about the mansion. "The school might very well be the only safe space they have their entire life. The world hasn't been kind to them, and I'm not sure it ever will be." Your words begin to quiet down as you finish the sentence, lowing to a whisper that only he can hear. You'd never, ever want any of these kids hear a word of what you're saying. Knowing that hope is really all they have at their age, and you of all people refuse to be the one to destroy that beautiful childlike optimism.

"That is what we are working for as the X-men, yes? To change that?" Piotr asks you point blank, his hand moving up towards the back of your neck in a soothing manner that still gives you goosebumps, feeling the comforting heat of his hand even stronger than before.

"Yeah, but..."

"Then we are doing all we can." He finishes, a smile on his face that's so determined and confident that it very nearly changes your mind completely. Nonetheless, it's a reassuring smile that makes your chest feel warm and fuzzy. You smile back at him finally, and you swear you see fondness in his eyes.

It doesn't take long before the two of you are finally at your door. You give Piotr a short and sweet goodnight as you begin to step inside, but he stops you before you go, gently catching hold of your arm. For the first time, you think you've seen him debate on his words. His mouth opens, but he doesn't speak at first, and you swear you see a blush rising to his cheeks as he does so.

"You'd make a good mother." He says eventually, and it makes you smile widely.

"You'd make a good dad." You tell him. There's silence between you as he brushes a stray lock of hair away from your face in a fond and caring manner, and you swear you could trick yourself into believing that you and Piotr were already in domestic bliss if this moment goes on for any longer. The tall man leans in, and you find your mind short circuiting as he presses a kiss to your forehead. The simple action somehow leaving you beyond flustered.

"Sleep well, Любовь моя. I will see you in the morning." Piotr tells you, before walking off at his regular stiff pace. You stand in your doorway for a minute, watching him leave with a bit of a confused smile on your face. Out of all the Russian nicknames he's called you in the past, you had never heard him say that one before. You wonder if you should pick up a book on the language as you close your door and finally crawl into bed, although part of you is content to leave it be. Colossus had always been blunt, and you're sure he'd tell you eventually. You fall asleep just as you always do, excited to see him when you wake up in the morning.

[freyaphoria]

you literally make the best yandere fics ever may i request a yandere seongjoong? imagine they gave you a phone for “good behavior” and you use it to contact your close friend so you can runaway and when they find out they go and kill that close friend in front of you as a punishment.

Thank you soooo much!♡ OKAY EVERYBODY SOO you know my this fav fic so this will be like side story for that story aaand I don't think yandere hongjoong would ever give you a phone BUT let's say he did:

Run Away Together | side story

tw: yandere hongjoong!, seonghwa, food!, vomiting, blood, death, woo is here too :,( yandere!seongjoong x reader

taglist: @aim-blossom

wc: 1870

Yandere!Matz masterlist

You can read the main fic here

a day with them

"Angel! Dinner is ready!" You stood up from the couch when Seonghwa called you from the kitchen. You didn't really want to eat; Your robot-like behavior in the last few weeks, accepting whatever they said, do whatever they said, be forcebally nice to them to leave you alone and being stuck here with two psychopaths had lost your appetite even more. But so that they wouldn't get angry and take back the freedom they barely gave you, you were currently sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for Seonghwa to put your food on your plate.

"I cooked this meat carefully for you so you have to finish it all." Seonghwa was in a different mood today, you could feel it. His voice was harsher and thicker than usual. Since you were not used to him treating you like this, you slowly raised your head and looked at his face. He looked nervous? or worried? you weren't sure. You didn't really care about Seonghwa's mood right now. You just wanted to finish your meal and get back to your phone.

Oh, the phone. Hongjoong gave you a phone, interestingly. It had been so long since your last failed escape attempt and nearly losing your leg, and since that day you had been too scared to disobey them, you had become the emotionless doll like what Hongjoong wanted, and he had given you a phone to reward you for doing whatever he said.

When you first got your phone, you were afraid to use it. You thought Hongjoong was putting you through a new test. But as time went on and they didn't check your phone, you got braver and tried to contact your best friend. Since you didn't remember his phone number, you contacted him through his social media account. He said that he was looking for you everywhere and thought you were dead. You explained what happened to you and asked for his help. He said he would definitely help you.

"It's raining like crazy outside, I hope the basement doesn't flood again." Hongjoong entered the house soaked all over. After taking off his jacket and hanging it on the hanger, he sat at the dining table, right in front of you. You were now used to his soul-sucking gaze, so you ignored his current piercing gaze and started cutting the meat on your plate.

"Do you want to eat now or should I prepare it later?" Seonghwa asked Hongjoong hesitantly. "I won't eat now." You looked at him in confusion. Normally, you always ate meals together. Why were the two of them not eating and watching you? Seeing that you were confused, Hongjoong started laughing. On the contrary, Seonghwa was more sullen than you've ever seen. "What?" you asked. "Eat." You lost your appetite even more with Hongjoong's smiling command. You ate two more bites and pushed your plate forward. “Thank you Seonghwa, can I leave the table now?” Just as Seonghwa was about to protest, Hongjoong stood up from the table and pulled your chair back. "If you are full, would you like to see our guest?" You frowned. "Guest?" You would never have any guests. Hongjoong would never take anyone home. Who was that guest? Is they one of his friends? If so, he would never introduce you. While thoughts float through your mind, you were starting to get nervous.

"If I tell you now, it'll spoil the surprise. Don't worry, he's someone you love, right Hwa?" Seonghwa nodded. He? What did he mean by someone you love? Who is he? Was someone you loved in this hell? You started to wonder if you ever loved someone.

Suddenly, you were interrupted from your thoughts by Hongjoong, who grabbed you with your arm harshly. You tried to resist as he grabbed you by your shoulders and dragged you towards the basement. "Who's here! What did you do?!" He wouldn't bring someone from your family here, he knew the problems between you, and if he did, he wouldn't call it someone you love. What about one of your frie-

Fuck.

Big fuck.

Like, totally fuck.

He doesn't know, does he? There's no way he knows. You were very careful, deleting messages immediately and always using your phone on 'do not disturb' mode so that the notification would not appear if he texted you. There must be someone else, it can't be him.

The rain was getting heavier and louder, its sound echoing in the house. You couldn't hear anything except your own heartbeat. If you could, you would have heard your friend's groans echoing from the basement beforehand and maybe you would have taken the steak knife from the table and stabbed it into Hongjoong's beautiful scary face.

He dragged you down the stairs to the basement and stood in front of the door. "Give me your phone." That's it, you screwed up. "Hongjoong please..." "Give me your fucking phone." The fact that he was still smiling made you tremble with fear. Seonghwa came behind you and roughly grabbed the phone from your pocket. "Now are you going to tell me yourself what you've been up to, or should our guest tell you?" You shook your head. You still had hope that he wasn't there, but you were only deceiving yourself. "Well, if you won't tell me... Hwa, open the door." Seonghwa walked to the door and unlocked it. You tried to break free from Hongjoong's grip. "No wait-"

There was so much blood that it took you a few seconds to realize who was lying on the ground. The person on the ground began to writhe and whimper. "How rude of you, won't you say hello to your friend?" Hongjoong let go of you and said to the poor body on the ground. Seonghwa grabbed your arms and pushed you towards to the person lying on the ground.

“Wo- Wooyoung!” Wooyoung was startled when he heard your voice and tried to lift his head. When you saw his bloody body, everything around you started to spin. Your ears were ringing and you were starting to feel nauseous because everything was becoming too much. Your best friend was in this situation because of you. "What did they do to you?!" Wooyoung tried to speak, but because his mouth was covered in blood, blood rushed to his throat and he started coughing. You didn't know how to approach him, you didn't know where to stop the blood because he was bleeding everywhere. That's why you put your hands into his hair, which was wet from blood, sweat and probably rain, and started to ask for forgiveness a thousand times while looking into his eyes. "I'm s-so sorry, you're here b-because of me, you should n-never have talked with m-me." Hongjoong coughed. "If you don't take your hands out of that dirty hair of his, you'll never be able to use your hands again." Without removing your hands, you turned your head to him. "You fucking asshole, you crazy psychotic son of a bitch!" He would probably make you regret it, but you couldn't help your emotions. "It was my fault! Why did you hurt him!" Hongjoong was watching you with a smile. He was literally dying to see your breakdowns. "I swear I'll kill you! Help him!"

You turned to Wooyoung and tried to find where he was bleeding the most. He had a big cut on his stomach. You placed your hand on his stomach and looked at Seonghwa. "Seonghwa please help! I swear we won't talk again!" Seonghwa looked away from you and looked at Hongjoong who was approaching you. "Hwa, give me the phone.” Seonghwa immediately handed him your phone. "Are you going to kill me? Princess, that was hilarious." When he crouched down and reached your eye level, you pulled Wooyoung towards you and tried to get away from him. Wooyoung made a sound like a groan of pain. "Why were you talking to him? Aren't we enough for you?" He unlocked your phone and went into your messages with Wooyoung that you forgot to delete. You weren't surprised that he knew your password. "Or should I ask: Why did you ask him for help in escaping from us?" "Why? You ask why!? Because you're both crazy!” Hongjoong read the messages a bit and locked the phone.

You took your eyes off Hongjoong and looked at your friend. Wooyoung's eyes were starting to get heavy and he was mumbling something. "Shh don't talk, I'll help you." You didn't know how to do it, but you wanted to calm him down. "Seonghwa! Do something!" When you turned to Seonghwa, you saw that he was looking at you just as angrily as Hongjoong, except he wasn't smiling like crazy. "Are you asking Seonghwa for help while I'm here? Wait, let me help you." Hongjoong held your hand and handed you your phone, he grabbed your hands with his own hands. Controlling your hand, he raised your hands in the air and started hitting the phone in Wooung's face. He was hitting so fast that blood was splashing on your face. You tried to pull your hands away from him, but his grip was too strong. You couldn't hear yourself scream, but you knew you were screaming from the pain in your throat.

You didn't know how long you spent hitting Wooyoung with the corner of the phone with Hongjoong's help, but when Hongjoong stopped, Wooyoung didn't move. Hongjoong pulled you closer, your hands still together. "You were doing very well. But you ruined everything. This was your punishment, remember, you killed him. You hit him with your own hands and killed him. You're as psychotic as we are, aren't you?" Hongjoong let go of your hand, but the phone was still in your hand, of course the glass was broken and bent. "Hwa, clean up this mess." Seonghwa immediately went to look for cleaning equipment in the corner of the basement. When you looked at the phone in your hand, there were remains of skin, bones and what you were sure were brain parts. You suddenly threw your phone away. You didn't want to look at Wooyoung. If you looked at him, your brain could shut down at any moment. The sight in front of you made you drop your nauseous stomach onto the floor. You had seen so many pieces of meat that you remembered the steak you ate. You made a mental note to never eat meat again.

"Ah Hwa, clean this up too. I can't stand your vomiting. I'm going upstairs!” As Hongjoong walked out of the basement door, he caught sight of raindrops flowing down the left wall. "I told you the basement was going to flood again! Ugh, I can't make it to anything!!"

Seonghwa walked towards you and patted your back. "Shh, it's over. Did you empty it all?" You backed away, startled by him. "Angel, even though I'm very angry at you too, I'm worried about you. After I clean here, I'll talk to Hongjoong not to lock you in the basement." The person who should be angry here is you. But you didn't have the courage or energy to fight back. You crawled to the corner of the basement and watched as Seonghwa put your best friend's body in the bag and cleaned up the blood.

a/n: I would be very happy if you share your opinions. I feel like I can't write these days.

[sunafc]

Caught in the web – 12, gentle

masterlist

Y/n feels the mattress sink as Suna sits next to her on the side of his bed. She’s sitting with her feet on the ground, her leg moving up and down nervously as she holds a white dessert box in her lap. The box is a bit damaged around the edges because of the time spent in her backpack.

‘Is that for me? What is it?’ Suna asks, and the girl almost flinches at the sound of his voice.

She nods, ‘It’s the fruit sando that Samu helped me make,’ she sighs, ‘I’m scared they won’t look so nice now,’ she says hopelessly.

‘Well,’ the boy gently takes the box from Y/n’s fingers, ‘I’m sure they still taste really good,’ — Y/n smiles softly — ‘Can I try one?’ He asks.

She nods again, motioning him to go on. As Suna opens the box and takes a look inside (the sandwiches inside are a bit smushed together but he thinks they look fine), Y/n takes off her mask and holds it next to her, fidgeting it in her hand as she waits for Suna’s evaluation. But Suna’s attention isn’t on the dessert anymore, Y/n’s face being way more interesting than those.

‘What?’ Y/n asks.

‘Your lip,’ Suna’s hand moves towards to the girl’s face,‘It’s broken,’ he holds her chin and tilts her head to take a better look, ‘There’s blood, too.’

‘I’m okay,’ Y/n grabs his hand and pulls it down on the bed, holding it a few seconds more than needed, ‘It’ll be gone in about an hour–’

‘Let me clean it up?’

‘It’s fine, really,’ the girl wipes herself with the back of her hand, ‘Just try the sandwich, I want to know if you like it.’

Suna sighs then brings the dessert to his mouth as Y/n waits with anticipation. His eyes grow slightly bigger with the first bite, then he quickly takes another, ‘These are so good, Y/n,’ he manages to say with his mouth full.

‘That’s gross, Rin,’ she says but getting betrayed by the fond look in her eyes and the smile that she can’t hide growing.

‘Shut up,’ he says in between bites, ‘And stop laughing.’

‘You’ve got cream on your nose,’ Y/n giggles, ‘Here,’ she says lending him a tissue.

The sight of Suna enjoying what she made for him calms her heart, she likes being with him, she likes when he’s happy, she likes when she laughs with him. Her legs stopped moving nervously and she didn’t even notice.

‘I like you too,’ she says out of the blue — Suna almost chokes on his last bite and he looks at her in search of something that will help him understand if she’s serious or not — ‘That’s why I asked Samu to teach me how to cook, I wanted to make something for you.’

‘Oh,’ Suna looks down at his now empty hands, ‘I was so stupid,’ he says, recalling the way he acted earlier that day.

Y/n chuckles, ‘You were, a little.’

Suna scoffs, ‘Whatever,’ he locks eyes with her, ‘Can I kiss you now?’

Y/n gets taken aback by his sudden confidence and her leg is moving again, ‘I think you might have to wait half an hour,’ she says pointing at her broken lip.

Suna shrugs and moves closer, ‘I’ll be gentle,’ he holds her jaw as his other hands found its place on her thigh, stopping her leg from moving, ‘I promise.’

notes:

– so sorry for the long wait but work was literally killing me 👎👎👎

– next week is my last work week then my classes start again so i might have a little bit more time then but no promises

– anyways

– THEY FINALLY KISSED YAY

– i'm not sure how i feel abt this chapter but i hope u guys enjoy it!!

– we're getting towards the end of this smau :(

– y/n girls protector <3

– i hope u all have a vivid imagination like i do and can imagine a beautiful suna with his cheeks full of bread and cream and fruit, eating happily !!!! bc my vision was way too adorable

taglist: @loveelylacey @mysteriousballer1na @loveliepa @wyrcan @lilchubbyyy @strxwberri-s @kitnootkat @yuminako @lovsvinny @punkhazardlaw @alexrin115 @iiwaijime @httpakkeiji @garfieldissocool @phoenix-eclipses @honeyfewr @dieforleclerc @tooru-bread @atsumuenthusiast @hycuye @le000xxgrd @canthavetoomuchchaos @neuviloved @lcvemiyuki @dazqa @itsdragonius @nyxlai @aboveasphodel @walllflowerrrsss @thepurpleempath @livixxn @futuristicxie @itsmiyamore @gsyche @zzzlevislothzzz @tsumuus @naweirdo @nishayuro @perinferii @piapiaweee3 @tojirin @savemebrazilhinata @twiishaa @samuel1004 @eri2222 @neoclb @shookykookie30 @arraxthatsonjah @does-directions @corvid007 closed [50/50]

[sillyunknownkitkat]

Undertale, Underswap, and underfell brothers react to a reader (platonic or not) that is hyper sexual

Mind that you're responsible for your own consumption, vague nsfw under the cut and sentive topics

No dni banner because there's nothing really explicit but it's implied

Undertale :

Sans

He noticed slight changes in your attitude before your crisis started. You were getting more and more bold, which is quite unusual for you.

Sans was worried for the few day you disappeared but understood that you may not want him to know about your problems. It didn't make him any less curious though.

It was a week after your first "symptoms" that he really got worried. So he went to your hiding place to confront you about it.

"Knock knock" Sans said, standing right in front of the bedroom's door.

"Sans?" You asked surprised and a bit panicked.

"S'not how the joke goes, kid. Knock knock." His tone wasn't particularly harsh, but he made it clear that he wasn't leaving. He used a tone that you had learned to interpret since knowing him.

"Who's there?" You said recluantly, you didn't want anyone to know about your bad habits

"Will." You thought for a bit, trying to guess the end of the joke but couldn't figure it out with your head still full of what's currently going on

"Will who?" Sans smiles a bit. Even in bad times, he still likes his jokes. It helps him relax a little.

"Will you open the door so we can talk face to face?"

So after putting on a sweatshirt and pyjama's pants, you get up and open the door.

"Hey.." You look down at his slippers.

"Hey, how 'bout we sit down and talk a bit, mh? M'not upset with you, just worried."

After you both settle down on the bed, you bring your knees to your chest and wait for him to start talking.

"Soooo, what's up, kiddo?"

Yeah... This is awkward for the both of you

So after you explained the things you were doing and how you felt while he patiently listened, he just asked you one thing.

"Is it because of a traumatic event you've been through?"

Now I let you decide what happened or not because everyone is different, but let's just say that if a person did something to make you feel that way, they're going to have a not so friendly chat with Sans.

Papyrus

Now, this cutie definitely didn't wait to ask you what was going on. I imagine him being autistic

So, while our pretty boy is definitely not stupid, I like to think he still struggles a bit with social clues. This means that he did ask you as soon as he noticed, but it might have taken quite a while.

Now, we all now Sans almost canonically struggles with depression so Paps can definitely help you a bit.

So, since no one can resist that cool face, you explained what was going on and let me tell you... That man was upset! Not at you but at the fact that you felt that way and he couldn't do anything about it. Not that it was his fault, but yk (*￣∇￣)ノ

Now he spent days telling you how amazing you were, how he loved you (platonically or not *wink wink*), and trying to get you attention on something else than your problem so you'd feel better.

Because you do. Not "maybe", you do 😭🔫😾

The cat is me, obviously 🙄

Underswap :

Blue (sans)

Might get hate on this one, but I think he struggles with hypersexuality too. I don't remember who's Au's it is, but there is one where he's popular on Instagram and where he's close friend with Viper (sf sans from that au which I use). So he knew what was going on before you told him.

Bb explained that he was like that, too, so you guys took care of each other :3

Like getting in comfy clothes, cooking a bit, cuddling, watching a movie, ... whatever you want!

And like spa treatments to echother too!

I'll probably write a part two for him in the future because, like this scenario + him, it's just ✨️perfect✨️

Stretch (us papyrus)

Even tho he's younger than blue, he still took care of his brother and therefore knew what was going on too. So when he sees you, he just picks you up with his magic, drags you to the couch, and pretty much instantly falls asleep on you. Well, he's not really sleeping, but you don't know that.

After a while, you start to cry silently because you feel kind of disgusting. Stretch cling to you a tiny bit harder and starts to purr "in his sleep" to try and console you.

Yes, skeletons purr, don't ask me why or how.

Anyway, after a while of being soothed, you fall asleep, and Stretch is smiling like an idiot because he managed to help you even the tiniest bit.

After both of you wake up, he goes to ask Blue what he can do to help you and apply with the wtv he tells him.

Blue might even join to talk to you a bit :)

Underfell :

Red (uf sans)

He knew what was going on but didn't want to bother you with it. The man already knows how hard it is when you're going through tough times.

So he kinda let you be but sometimes he comes buy and offer you to do some things.

It's not in a really nice way but not rude either, just a bit rough, I guess

He was like, "How 'bout you do something instead of just lying there, huh?"

He is not an asshole. He just grew up in a difficult world and therefore kinda has a stick stuck up in his non-existent ass.

If you don't move, he'll literally drag you out of bed and sit you on the couch with a movie already picked paused on the TV.

If you talk about it, he'll listen and suggest things that might help you, but if you don't, he'll do whatever he can while being "subtle."

Edge (uf papyrus)

He catched you crying when he opened the door of your bedroom to ask you to come downstairs since dinner was ready. Now Edge is by no means a cruel person, but he had to do things to survive in the underground. I like to think that when they all got out, he and Red cut links with most of the other monsters.

So now he got quite a lot softer, but it's still Edge, so don't expect too much.

He sat down next to you and brung a hand to your back (a bit awkwardly, but the man is learning people)

"I'M HERE IF YOU NEED TO TALK." he told you in the softest voice he could manage to get out (it wasn't soft, but since you know him and how he talked you understood that he was trying)

Same as his brother, if you talk, he'll listen, but he might be a bit more insistant with his advice. Again, not in a rude way, just in his way of saying thing.

If you don't, he'll probably get a little offended that you don't trust him even after he tried his best to be soft but still understands why you may not want to talk about your problems.

Not verified afterwards, sorry ;^;

So this is it :) it's a bit shitty ngl but I tried my best.

Kinda self indulge, honestly, but I'm better now so dw

If you have a similar problem or even another one, my dm's are opened, don't stay alone in your misery.

I might not answer right away (I live in Western Europe), but I will as soon as I can

Have a good day/night, and be safe, everyone. <3

[willowser]

hi hi willow!!!!!!!!!!! (<- absolutely not in pain whatsoever)....... i am just wondering if..... uh.... u have imagined a reason for the breakup yet? i'd love to know why you think bakugo would ever break up with you. heh heh. hah. :D (i am crying)

here are the things you don't know—yet, at this point in time after the breakup.

two weeks before, dynamight gets into an ugly argument with a civilian. over something stupid, probably; she's drunk and not listening to a word the hero is telling her, stumbling around in public and taking her shoes off and shoving at him when he tries to corral her from getting into another fistfight in the street.

it's just—bad. looks bad. before anything productive can happen, a few of her friends are stumbling out and screaming at him, too, for being a cocky asshole and putting their phones in his face and recording him and maybe he says something he shouldn't—not something terrible, just something that sounds extra bad when a group of young women are screaming and angry at you—and it gets blasted all over the internet.

two weeks before, dynamight gets dragged in the paper. for being a jerk. for being such an asshole. remember when he nearly collapsed that building last month, during that fight? so careless. and he's never friendly when anyone comes up to him on the street, either in uniform or not. is more likely to brush someone away than stop and take a picture. in high school he was a little brat, too, with the way he spoke to his peers and didn't know respect if it slapped him in the face.

his poor partner. must be miserable to be with him all the time. they deserve better.

and if they know how he is? and how he acts to the people he's supposed to take care of? well, they must condone that kind of behavior, no? they're okay with him acting like that in public? what kind of morals do they have, anyway?

the other thing you don't know yet is that katsuki has been working every day. two shifts, sometimes, to the point that there's little more he does than eat and sleep and be dynamight. there's no free time. if any tries to make an appearance in his schedule—he's filling it with something, anything; going hiking, working out, cooking dinner for his shithead friends, not being at home.

whatever he's doing, he's not being at home.

yes, he got rid of everything he could that belonged to you. because he couldn't stand to look at it and know you weren't going to use it in his house again. can't stand it. refuses to, actually. is only putting one foot in front of the other, every day, and not really thinking about that weird, awful weight sitting in his gut, that feels dark and terrifying. he can't think about it. he's not bad at avoiding those kind of thoughts—he's done it before and he'll do it again.

and lastly—he's a fucking idiot.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[5:57 pm]

(cw: celebrity!reader)

Was this restaurant too fancy? Had Jungwoo chosen the right place to eat? Was it obvious he was sweating? He took a deep breath, he was no going to let his nerves make him sick- again.

This was the day, weeks and weeks of playing it cool came to this. He was taking his childhood celebrity crush out on a date! This was something that only ever happened in his dreams, and only since he was 9 years old.

You'd been in the spotlight almost all your life. You started on some children's TV shows which is where Jungwoo first discovered you, then you progressed into some music, but you really took off as a teen and adult in more serious acting roles.

He had never imagined that a night of chugging beers and drunkenly sending you an Instagram DM would have resulted in you agreeing to go out with him. He was nervous, meeting you in person is a big deal. The whole private room of the restaurant had to be booked for just the two of you just to prevent fans or cameras from catching sight of the two of you.

But now Jungwoo was starting to wonder if maybe that was a personal preference of yours. A quirk that came with so many years in the spotlight. Maybe you didn't like to eat around normal people. He panicked, what if you were rude to waitstaff because they were "beneath" you? What if you sent back your food because it wasn't to your usual gourmet standards? What would he do? How could he deal with the fact that the person he'd had a crush on for over half his life was rude?

The door open and his head snapped over, stopping his internal panic. You came in quietly, bowing slightly to the employee that held the door open to you with a polite smile before you looked at Jungwoo, "Hi! It's so good to finally see you, I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."

His mouth opened and shut with no sound a few times, "Uh- um- ehhh- no. No. Sorry, no. No, I haven't been waiting long. Is it- can I greet you with a hug or do you not like people touching you?"

You waved him off, shrugging out of your sweater, "it's fine. We are on a date after all."

You gave him a warm embrace before taking a seat across from him and looking over the menu. You both made small talk and you laughed at all his stupid, word vomit jokes.

You smiled at all the staff that came by, never faltering even when every single cook, bus boy, waiter and hostess came and got their pictures with you. You thanked everyone of them for their support and signed whatever they put in front of you, even one of the cook's shoes. You thanked the cooks for their work and delicious food and Jungwoo was not ashamed to say his crush grew even bigger. 

He was having a hard time containing his excited squeals when you talked about your shared interests and what you did in your free time. You spent a lot of time with your past schools, volunteering, and spending time with the elderly where your grandparents lived. 

When your final plates were cleared you looked at Jungwoo with a shy but genuine smile, "I'm glad we came out. I haven't been on very many dates, but this is the best one. I hope we can do it again..."

Jungwoo would not even be ashamed to say his mouth opened and shut like a fish out of water, again, "you want to go out with me again?"

Your eyes widen and Jungwoo’s heart breaks when sadness fills your eyes, “Do you not want to? I’m sorry for assuming, you don’t have to.”

He panics, “I do! Yes, I want to go out with you again! Please!”

[yuusishi]

How would Ruggie, Leona and Jamil be with an s/o who spoils them with delicious home-cooked meals and food? Imagine Ruggie's face and tail wagging when reader gives him a box of beautifully made and frosted donuts. Headcanons please and thank you!

Spoiling Ruggie, Leona, and Jamil with Food !!

pairings: Ruggie Bucchi, Leona Kingscholar, Jamil Viper x gn!Reader (separate)

genre: fluff

cws/tws: ooc Ruggie? idk I've never written for him before

a/n: I don't know SHIT about cooking so sorry if things don't make sense

Ruggie Bucchi !!

The boy is HAPPY, buzzing with excitement and tail wagging at the sight of your homemade donuts or whatever food that you made especially for him!

He spends a few seconds admiring the plating and presentation of the food before finally digging in (by seconds I mean 2 seconds max, he couldn't resist).

He ate and left no crumbs (literally)

Although he retains his cheeky persona while eating and after he finished, he still thanks you a million times for making him such amazing food.

When Ruggie has a rough day or when something's bothering him, he usually calms down when he's eating something you made specifically (and of course with you). It can be the same exact recipe but it just won't hit the same if you aren't the one that cooked it.

You two are now cooking buddies, most of the time you two cook for Leona, though.

Ruggie takes this opportunity to get to know you more, sometimes even lying that he needed some help for one of Leona's dishes just to spend time with you.

If you caught on to his excuses he'll be extremely embarrassed but tries to say it was "to know your secrets to how you cook so well".

If you hadn't, then he'll keep using this excuse, always saying "this is the last time I'll ask!" but ends up asking every week or so with no end.

Leona Kingscholar !!

"Nice"

Maybe on a good day you'll get a "Your cooking's good".

Although it sounds like sarcasm, he really does mean it, he's just not very vocal about it.

"I mean, it's obvious that [Name]'s cooking is good so why do I need to say it?"

It's evident that he really does like whenever you cook for him when you see his tail swaying slowly in the air while you presented some food you made from a recipe you found.

Also the way his ears perk up at the smell of your food.

He's whipped for you and your cooking skills.

Every once in a while when he can't really seem to fall asleep, he likes to stand around in the kitchen with you to watch how you do things, sometimes even helping you in the cooking.

The most he does though is mainly mixing or watching the stove to make sure the food won't burn.

I feel like he can feel a small sense of genuine happiness if he manages to cook a single meal with your help, mostly because he likes doing things with you.

Jamil Viper !!

Cooking buddies 2.0

You cook for him a lot and he cooks for you!!

Sometimes you even have little dates where you bake pastries with each other :))

Since Jamil is in charge of Kalim's food most of the time, it's your job to cook equally if not more delicious food for Jamil.

He compliments your cooking a lot, like how the different ingredients blend with each other really well, or how the presentation is very pleasing to the eyes.

But since he's very experienced in the kitchen, he definitely critiques it as well.

He isn't harsh with it, but he points things out that you could take out of/put in the food to improve it.

The first few times you gifted him some food he was definitely confused but took it out of basic etiquette.

After a while he got more used to you showing up to Scarabia with a container of what you recently cooked.

[notbecauseofvictories]

hi! i've been very wistfully admiring of your cooking and baking prowess but i'm about at the level of "pasta, vegetable, protein, jarred sauce" at this point and can't imagine getting to where you are. are there recipes you'd recommend for beginners? who hypothetically maybe have never used their oven?

Personally, right now I'm just about in the same spot---my desire to cook things has dropped precipitously, I've survived the last few weeks on salads and roasted chicken and crackers with cheese. But the good news is that there are plenty of options for the lazy cook! And the even better news is that I have all sorts of recipes for you...

DO NOT MAKE ME USE THE OVEN, SO HELP ME GOD

Quinoa Tabbouleh (lots of chopping, but afterwards you can make a giant vat of it and eat it slowly over the course of a week...)

Greek Tuna Salad (throw a bunch of cans together in a giant bowl, then eat it on lettuce)

White Bean and Broccoli Dip with Pesto (I make this by the bucket in the summer, though typically I use parmesan instead of nutritional yeast---and I eat it off of rice cakes!)

Pesto Gnocchi (green beans, cherry tomatoes, and delicious, delicious gnocchi, all smothered in pesto. Literally, where would you go wrong?)

SANDWICHES ARE GROWN-UP FOOD!!

Spicy Vegan Wraps (I am not personally vegan, but I make this all the fucking time)

Lemon Radish Tartine

Roasted Tomato Tartine (....listen you call it a "tartine" and I immediately get really interested)

Chicken Avocado Wraps (not something I make too often, but incredibly easy and mostly about shredding your chicken properly)

I HAVE EXACTLY ONE (1) POT

Quinoa-Kale Bowl (unbelievably easy, and the result is delicious)

BBQ Chicken Quinoa Casserole (this in particular makes for really great leftovers---especially if work has a microwave)

Dump & Bake Chicken and Rice (sometimes you just want a bunch of stuff covered in sauce and it's warm and delicious.)

Smothered Mushrooms and Kale (it's got nutrients and also tastes pretty good)

KEEPING UP WITH THE JONESES (I.E., WHAT TO COOK WHEN YOU'RE EXPECTING COMPANY)

Beet Bruschetta with Goat Cheese and Basil (I have made this for multiple different groups, as well as for myself, and every time---EVERY TIME---it's amazing.)

One-Pot Pasta with Sausage and Squash (slightly more sophisticated than the one-pot recipes above---but so fancy! and delicious.)

Puff Pastry Fruit Braid (did you think I'd get through this entire list without a single dessert? this is probably the most adaptable, consistently delightful recipe I have---and incredibly, incredibly easy to use, manipulate, or do whatever you want with. Features helpful pictures, and I think I've used every fruit combination you can imagine.)

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 13

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | AO3

-----

Eddie wakes up in the morning - or at least, he thinks it's morning, though he guesses he could still be losing track of time, and it might still be the same day. His head lulls automatically to the side, gaze seeking out the hospital bed next to him like it's second nature, and -

Steve's gone.

There's no one there, the bed clean and empty with sheets all tucked and a pillow still in plastic, like no one was ever there in the first place.

Fuck, what if he wasn't there? What if Eddie's doped up brain imagined all of this, giving himself the comfort of a circle of friends that would stay with him in the hospital, that promised they wouldn't leave him and meant it? What if he really is alone now?

His breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, and he recognizes enough to know that he's hyperventilating again - though it feels distant, fuzzy, like it's happening to someone else and he's just observing.

Somewhere through the thick cotton obscuring his ears, he can tell someone is saying his name.

It's Dustin, fuck, he knows that voice, and he knows that means he's not alone, that they're still here with him, but he can't quite seem to get the rest of him on board with that thought, can't make it cut the panic racing through him.

There's a loud squawk by his ear, a hitch-pitched whine of feedback and a rush of static, and that startles him enough to focus in on Dustin urgently asking someone to do what they did before.

"Hey, Eddie, can you hear me?" Steve asks, voice tinny but still there, and Eddie tries not to feel pathetic about how hard he latches onto it. "You're all right, you're safe. You're not alone. We've got you, Eds, everyone's okay. We all made it out, we're all with you."

He keeps up the mantra as Eddie's breathing slowly evens out, as he feels himself settle back into himself. Dustin's sitting next to him, eyes wide and panicked, clutching a walkie-talkie and holding it up close to him as Steve's voice sounds from it.

"I'm-" Eddie starts, then has to swallow a few times around how dry his mouth feels. "I'm here. I'm good. Just - saw your bed empty when I woke up, kind of panicked."

"We've all been there," Steve says. "I got myself discharged a few hours ago - I'm out getting things ready. I'll let Dustin take it from here, okay? See you guys soon."

Eddie hums an affirmative, and Dustin lets go of the walkie, tucks it back into his pocket. There's a moment where Eddie has no idea what the fuck to say, but then Dustin shoots a little smile at him.

"It's okay," he says. "It happens to all of us. We skipped school to be with Will the first time this all happened, and I spent the night at Steve's for a week straight once."

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "Your mom let you sleep over at Steve Harrington's place for a week?"

Dustin rolls his eyes. "She loves Steve, it's kind of annoying. I told her he got his concussion defending us from bullies that time, and he needed someone to stay with him and make sure his brain didn't bleed out of his ears in his sleep."

There's a pause, and then the kid's eyes go a little bit earnest, like he's trying to sell him on something. "It was great, though. Steve made breakfast every morning, and he let me get whatever I wanted on my pizza, and he cooked dinner sometimes too, and he's got a huge TV and a ton of movies on tape, and he only complains a little bit if you-"

The door slams open, and Eddie jumps.

"We gotta go," Robin says as she and Lucas crowd into the room. "Did you tell him?"

"Tell me what?" Eddie asks, eyes darting around the room, fully expecting to see clocks or vines or fucking bats. "Is it Vecna, did that fucker recover already?"

"No, Max says he was in pretty bad shape. He's gonna be down for a while," Lucas replies.

"It's the cops and the rest of the town looneys," Robin says, taking up a post by the door while Lucas paces across the room, looking out the window. "We heard on the police radio channel, they found out you're here. We gotta get you out."

"Fuck." Eddie swallows, tangling the fingers of his good hand in the sheets of the hospital bed so tight it makes his knuckles creak. "I'm kind of out of options on safe places to lay low and recuperate here."

"What?" Dustin looks affronted. "No you're not. I told you, you've got us."

"All of us," Robin says, as Dustin comes to stand by her at the door.

He cranes his head down the hall. "Is there a doctor coming to release him?"

"Yeah, Erica yelled at him until he gave in, he's on his way." Lucas glances away from the window to look at Eddie. "We hid El in Mike's basement for days without anyone knowing, you think we can't do the same for you?"

Robin snorts. "It's not going to be Wheeler's shitty basement, Eddie, don't worry."

Eddie stares at them. Part of him is aware of what they're saying, is processing that he needs to get out of the hospital and he's not going to have to do it alone - that even though the world isn't technically ending right now, they're all going to stand by him.

But he feels like he did when they came back from sticking up for him with Carver and the others - overwhelmed, like he hasn't done anything to deserve this, like he doesn't know what to do with such clear, undeniable evidence that they've made him one of this party now.

"Eddie?" Dustin asks, stepping in a little closer. "You okay?"

Eddie snaps himself out of it. "Yeah. Just - fuck, all right, let's do this."

Robin helps him stand up, stays by his side as he steps into a pair of loose scrubs that someone's scrounged up for him - he doesn't ask, and he's assuming the clothes he wore in the Upside Down are trashed - and lets him lean on her shoulder so he's somewhat steady on his feet by the time a harried looking doctor makes it into the room.

"You realize you're not ready to be discharged?" the doctor asks immediately.

"I'm over eighteen," Eddie replies. "You can't keep me here if I want to leave, right?"

The doctor sighs. "You'll be leaving against medical advice."

"But I'm not going to, like, die of blood loss or infection or something if I do?" Eddie presses.

"We can't answer that question with any surety without another few days of observation," the doctor replies, then relents when everyone glares at him. "It's highly unlikely."

"Just tell us what we need to do to keep an eye on him," Robin says.

The doctor goes over the cliff notes - soft foods for a while, showers are okay but no soaking, no lifting things over five pounds, there's a page of stretching exercises for his shoulder and leg, a timeline for recovery, and a prescription for the rest of his antibiotics and a smaller one for some painkillers.

"That's all I can give you since you're leaving against medical advice," the doctor says, which Eddie knows is a load of bullshit, but he's too exhausted and itching to get out of here to call him on it.

They herd him out of the room and to the elevator, standing in a little half circle around him like he's got his own little string of tiny bodyguards, and the thought makes him giggle, just a little bit hysterically.

"You guys look like little lion cubs," he says.

"You think we can't protect you?" Dustin asks, sounding hurt.

Eddie shakes his head. "No, no, I'm feeling very protected right now. Thank you."

The elevator dings, and Eddie takes a deep breath as he steps off - into a controlled chaos. The waiting room is packed, some gurneys set up right out there with nurses tending to what seems like minor cases, and even some people sleeping on the floor. Eddie feels a moment of swooping panic, but no one even looks his way. They shuffle him out of the hospital to where Nancy and Erica are waiting in the Wheeler station wagon.

Eddie gingerly climbs in, and Lucas and Dustin slide into the backseat with Erica.

Robin holds up his prescription. "I'm gonna get this filled. Swing back and grab me after you drop them off?" she asks Nancy.

Nancy hums an affirmative, eyes flicking around to make sure everyone's wearing their seat belts before she takes off.

Eddie thinks about asking where they're going, but his stomach and chest and legs and arm ache, and he's wiped just from the walk out of the hospital and to the car. So he just tips his head back against the seat of the car, closes his eyes, and tries to hold himself still enough that the seatbelt doesn't rub up against his wounded gut.

Eventually, the car stops. He expects more talking, but there's a tense silence in the flurry of activity, until someone pulls open the car door and is unbuckling his seatbelt for him.

"Shit," Dustin says. "Is he out again?"

"M'up," Eddie mumbles, though admittedly, he's not entirely sure he's up for moving.

"Go get Steve," Erica orders imperiously. "Someone needs to drag his sorry ass around again."

Eddie forces his eyes open. "M'up, m'up, I got this."

In the time it takes for him to get oriented well enough to notice that the car is in a garage, and then shuffle around to get his feet pointed in the direction of out, though, Dustin's apparently managed to collect Steve, who emerges from what Eddie assumes is the door to a house, wearing a pair of sweats and a Hawkins swim team sweatshirt.

Eddie waves his hands around, preemptively slapping Steve away before he can even get to him. "No," he tells him, as he comes to a stop just out of slapping range. "I know you've got stitches, too. No heavy lifting."

"We're not going to lift you, Eddie, we're just going to help," Nancy says, coming around to his other side, and -

Hmm.

"Yeah, okay," he agrees, lowering his arms for a moment before changing course, and holding one hand out to each of them.

Nancy takes one hand, and Steve the other, and they both step in closer to help guide him out of the car and to his feet. They promptly sling one of his arms over each of their shoulders, and start shuffling their way into the house. Eddie pretends the sharp hiss and the sting of tears in his eyes are due only to the edge of pain from the movement, and not to the fact that he's feeling overwhelmed again by just how willing all of them seem to be to help him when he needs it.

The house that they shuffle him through is fucking pristine, a laundry room that feels bigger than Eddie's kitchen right off the garage and into a hallway, a closed off double door to the right and then a massive living room. There's an l-shaped sofa all made up with pillows and blankets, and that's where they take him, letting him settle down on it with a sigh of relief.

"Robin's filling his prescriptions," Nancy says to Steve. "I'm going to go get her, we'll be back soon."

She heads out as the herd of children Eddie apparently belongs to now troop into the living room, their voices all clamoring together.

Steve whistles, sharp and clear and making Eddie wince, though it does cut through the noise.

"You two," he says, pointing at the Sinclairs. "With me, we're calling your parents from the kitchen. Dustin, you're after them."

The noise picks up again, and this time Eddie can make out loud protests. Steve puts his fingers to his mouth again, and nope, nope, Eddie does not want that sounding off this close to his ear again.

"Hey!" he roars, and even though it makes his throat hurt, it works to shut them up. "Thank you."

"Parents," Steve repeats. "Or they're going to come looking for you, and maybe no one else will think to look for you guys here, but they will."

Dustin groans, but he doesn't protest again.

"What are we even supposed to tell them?" Lucas grumbles.

Steve shrugs. "What do you usually tell them?"

Dustin considers. "…yeah, okay, the babysitter cover will probably still work."

"Add in the Starcourt special," Lucas says.

Eddie looks between them all. "Is any of that supposed to make sense?"

"I told you, our parents love Steve," Dustin says. "He's been beaten up enough protecting us that they think he's some kind of defender against bullies and natural disasters."

Unwillingly, Eddie remembers the headlines after Starcourt, puts it together with what Robin'd told him and how beat to hell Steve looked when Eddie saw him. It doesn't sit well with Eddie, how casually Dustin talks about Steve getting beat up protecting them, but he also remembers Dustin holding onto Steve like he was a lifeline back in the hospital, so he thinks maybe it's a coping mechanism as much as it's a belief that Steve is invincible.

"We'll just tell them Steve was with us when the earthquake hit, and he kept us safe, then we waited with him at the hospital until he was discharged," Lucas says. "It's not even technically a lie."

Erica snorts, unimpressed. "And how does that explain you three sneaking out of the house when the cops were there and running away?"

"The cops? Oh, fucking great," Steve mutters. "What'd they say to you, are you guys okay?"

Max waves her good hand. "They didn't have anything on us. We weren't under arrest, they didn't tell us not to leave the house. They've got nothing."

"Question," Eddie says, holding up a hand. "How does that fit in with Steve carrying my unconscious ass into the hospital and telling everyone we were attacked?"

"You were attacked by the real killer, obviously," Dustin says, rolling his eyes. "But we're not going to bring that out until things have settled down a little."

Eddie considers if it's worth protesting exactly how flimsy that cover story is, and how much it won't hold up to anything, but - well. If he thinks too much about how deeply screwed he is with this murder stuff, it just makes him panic, and he doesn't really have room for all of that right now considering he's barely able to physically function.

He's pretty sure their parents will be too focused on their kids being safe after the "earthquake" for now, so he lets it go.

Steve seems to agree - or comes to an entirely different conclusion with the same result, fuck if Eddie knows, because he just points at Lucas and Erica again. "Kitchen. Now."

The Sinclairs reluctantly follow him, leaving Max and Dustin alone with Eddie.

"They're probably going to make us come home," Dustin mutters.

Max gives him a disdainful look. "At least you probably have a home to go back to."

"Wait, what?" Eddie asks when Dustin winces.

"The trailer park's a wreck," Max says flatly. "The earthquake or whatever it was hit the worst at the gates."

The gates. One of which was on the ceiling of his living room, right where -

"My uncle," Eddie says, trying not to freak out. "Is he okay, has anyone-"

"He's fine!" Dustin says hurriedly. "He was already out of your guys' place, cause, you know, crime scene. The school's been set up as a temporary housing until they can get everything sorted out, he's there."

Fuck if that doesn't make Eddie feel guilty all over again, but knowing his uncle is at least physically safe calms him down.

Max looks a little abashed, like she'd forgotten that she wasn't the only one in this little group who lives on that side of town anymore, which makes his heart go out to her. It's easy to forget about the things that should divide them, when they're all focused on saving the world and just trying to survive another day. He wonders how she deals with it when they're not all caught up in the Upside Down - wonders if she just hasn't been dealing with it at all, considering he knows she's a new resident of Forest Hills and that she'd been pulling away from the group before this.

She doesn't say anything else, and he doesn't ask.

Steve comes back before it gets too awkward, eyes automatically landing on Max in a way that, for a ridiculous moment, makes Eddie wonder if the guy is actually psychic.

"Mrs. Sinclair is asking for you," Steve says. "Do you want to come talk to her?"

His voice is soft, gentle, and he gives Max time to think it over - Eddie gets the feeling that Steve already has an excuse prepared for the Sinclairs if Max says no.

Max's eyes dart over at Eddie and Dustin for a moment, like she's not sure she wants to say anything in front of them. Then she deflates a little and looks back at Steve.

"My mom call back?" she asks.

"Not yet," Steve replies. "We can try again."

Max's jaw sets, and she shakes her head. "No. I want to talk to Mrs. Sinclair."

She stands, and doesn't push Steve's arm off of her when he grabs her in for a side hug as he guides her back into the kitchen.

Dustin leans back in the recliner he'd claimed, propping his booted foot up on the footrest. "I'm going to see if Mom'll let me stay over here a few days," he declares.

"Good luck with that," Eddie says. "Your mom's love of Steve aside, you've been gone for days. I think she's entitled to a day or two of hovering over you."

Dustin's nose scrunches, like he really wants to protest that but he's pretty sure Eddie's right.

"Fine," he mutters. "But you guys have to agree to walkie me every night. Every night, Eddie. And you have to make sure Steve leaves it on, and charged up, and I'm going to make him promise to check in as soon as he wakes up in the morning."

His heart - his stupid, not nearly cynical enough heart - cracks a little. "I'm okay, Dustin. Steve and I made it out okay."

"This time," Dustin says, and he won't meet Eddie's eyes, his voice thick enough that Eddie suspects he's holding back tears. "But you almost didn't. You almost died, Eddie, if El hadn't been ready for Vecna maybe you would have. And Steve - he's my brother, and I know he thinks he's invincible but one day he's not going to be, and he doesn't know how much I need him, how much I need you both -"

"Hey," Steve says.

Dustin yelps at the same time that Eddie jumps, hissing when that pulls at his stitches.

"Shit, Steve, make some noise next time!" Dustin complains.

"Sorry," Steve says, then reaches out to ruffle Dustin's hair. "I know, Dustin. Eddie and I both know, okay? We need you, too."

Part of Eddie wants to wheel back, to tell Steve that's awfully presumptuous of him, but - the part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge, the bigger part right now, really fucking likes the way Steve says we, the way it makes Dustin stop looking so broken.

"Go home for a few days, then you can tell your mom that you're worried I'm going to rip my stitches trying to take care of myself and come stay over for a while, okay? We'll do it just like the first time."

Dustin considers that for a moment, then nods. "Okay."

"Good," Steve says. "Because it's your turn. You want me to bring the phone out here?"

"Nah, I can make it." Dustin lets down the recliner and slowly shuffles his way to the kitchen.

Steve shoots Eddie a look, and there's something quiet and intense in his eyes, something that Eddie feels like he can almost get, if he just -

Then Steve's moving, following Dustin back to the kitchen, and it's gone.

Eddie's alone.

This is the first time since he spent that long, shitty night in the woods that he's actually had some space to himself without one of the others in this strange little party right there. Part of him thinks he should enjoy the reprieve, taking in a breath and letting it out without worrying about what anyone else might see. Part of him thinks he should be panicking, like he did every time he thought he might have been left alone in the hospital.

He doesn't know what he actually feels.

There's a faint murmur of voices from the kitchen, low and soothing, and he thinks - he thinks about how if he yelled, any one of them would come running for him. He thinks about how if he heard yelling from them, he'd be launching himself up off this sofa and scrambling for the kitchen, bloody bite wounds or not. He thinks about how he ran, and how he didn't, and how none of them seemed to blame him when he ran from an invisible monster that turned a girl who was nothing but nice to him into a broken doll, and how they yelled at him for almost dying when he didn't run from a mob of demon bats who almost tore him to pieces. He thinks about how not one of them ever called him a coward, thinks about how they dragged him out of hell and slept in his hospital room and whisked him off to safety.

He thinks, maybe, they might just keep him, even if he isn't Steve's soulmate.

Steve comes out of the kitchen, shoots him a little wry smile and says, "Kind of figured none of us really want to be alone right now," and Eddie -

He thinks, fuck, he still really wants to be Steve's soulmate anyway.

Taglist (always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

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Part 14

[slicznymartwy]

stand by your man

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it’s certainly been long enough for your selfish cat to have had its snack and returned.

tags: first meetings, cannibalism, thomas hewitt wears a face in this one guys, canon-typical violence, misogyny, slut shaming, fluff and angst, ambiguous/open ending, i mean to me its happy but yk, bad guys win sort of ending notes: second person pov – cis fem reader with some defined traits (tall, midsized, long hair). everything else is up to interpretation. i'm sorry if this fic seems really cruel towards thomas :( i love him i promise

read on ao3

Humid felt like an understatement on a day like today. Walking inside your little wooden shack felt like swimming in pond water, thick and stagnant. The morning wasn’t so bad but, before lunchtime, you had thrown open every window on the chance that a breeze would sweep through, even if it was only for a moment.

But there’s no wind today, which leads you and your old orange cat sitting like panting dogs out on the front porch. Your stomach growls, but you can’t imagine getting up and cooking for yourself like this. You want some soda fountain ice cream, but downtown is a long walk and the drugstore has been closed down for a few months anyhow.

Groaning, you roll onto your side and daydream about frothy root beer floats. You’re so deep in your fantasy that you hardly notice when your cat scrambles onto her feet, faster than summer lightning, and books it out the dusty yard on the heels of a field mouse.

“Goddamn it, Peanut,” you say to nobody, watching her go with a disappointed sigh. She must’ve been starving to run like that in this heat. You watch her go and go until she runs into the grass. Then you don’t see her at all.

You’re not sure how much time passes, but it’s certainly been long enough for your selfish cat to have had its snack and returned.

“Peanut?” you call out, sitting up. She’s nowhere to be seen, not even in the shady live oak a stone’s throw from the house. You stand up and walk out towards the grass, feet burning on the sun-exposed dust.

“Here, kitty kitty!” you call out, looking for movement in the fields. There is none, so you cup your mouth and try again, louder. “Here, kitty kitty! C’mere, Peanut!”

Nothing but the buzzing bugs.

Your little housecat wasn’t made for the Texan wilderness. She was getting old and preferred to spend her days napping in whatever spot was the coolest.

Wading into the tall grass, you almost want to forget about ever having a cat, but you know you could never. You love Peanut, even if she gets on your nerves.

The fields are droning with critters that you can’t even see. It’s like they’re all complaining about the heat, and you find yourself agreeing with them. You wish you had grabbed some shoes before heading out, but you’re already this far – besides, if you return home now, you’re sure you won’t want to keep looking.

You don’t know how long you walk, but the sun is high over your head when you find an old wooden fence. Trees line the property on the other side, and it sure is tempting to hide under those pretty green leaves for a while, but you’re getting more worried the longer you look for your cat. Maybe a dog or a snake got to her first.

You hop up onto the fence and swing a leg over, then the other. Standing on the bottom rung, you hold onto the post for balance. Cupping your mouth with your free hand, you shout out into the field, “Peanut!”

Thomas was bored.

They had guests two days ago, but Thomas was already finished separating meat from bone and cartilage. Before that, it had been almost two weeks since their last visitors, and he thinks he got a little too excited at the prospect of getting to butcher something.

They weren’t even handsome enough to keep. The whole thing felt like a waste.

It’s a hot day, but Thomas doesn’t mind it. It not much, but walking in the shade at least gets the sun off of him. The oaks circle their home, and he can walk in on one end and come out on the other, pretty much in the same place. He’s curious today, though.

No meat at home. He might as well walk as far as his legs will take him.

The leaves sway and rustle together quietly when the wind comes by, but even then the air feels thick. Thomas trudges along, looking for something he doesn’t know about yet. There’s movement in the brush, but he can see it’s just a fat orange cat. It bolts when Thomas stomps past it, running into a clearing of tall grass. Thomas keeps on going, searching.

Hearing a shout, he knows he’s found it.

The noise was far, but not too far to walk towards. The sound keeps repeating, and it’s a female sounding voice; today’s his lucky day since he didn’t bring anything with him. She might go kicking and screaming, but it shouldn’t be too hard to throw an unsuspecting woman over his shoulder and carry her to the basement.

Reaching the tree line, the brush and the tree limbs part to reveal you.

Tall and full bodied, he sees your legs first. They’re pressed together as you stand on his fence, and your dress rides up as you bend forward at the waist.

“Peanut!” you yell, and he realizes it’s what you’ve been yelling the whole time. You curse under your breath and wipe at your forehead. Your hair is long and it’s loose, falling down your back past your shoulders. You’re sweaty and you don’t wear any shoes. Thomas watches your curiously.

You must have given up on whatever you were doing, because you step down from the fence and lean on it, putting your forehead on your folded arms. Thomas stares. You don’t look like the usual kind of guest.

Guests were usually tourists, and although Thomas couldn’t place you, he could tell that you were local. You wore a house dress like Momma, and you didn’t wear shoes outside. You were a Texas girl, Thomas realized.

He’s not sure the last time he met a real Texas girl. Probably not since he stopped going to the doctor in town, and that was when he was still a little kid.

Thomas was torn. He’s never killed townsfolk before. Meat is meat, the annoying little Charlie in his head hollered at him, but his Momma was in there too, telling him that there wasn’t anything left of their town. Shouldn’t he try to keep their town alive? Wouldn’t that make Momma happy?

He’s still debating with himself when you turn around and startle. He’s expecting you to scream and run away from him, but you don’t. You close your eyes, cover your chest, and sigh heavily.

“I am so sorry, mister. I thought it was just me and the June bugs out here today,” you say, opening your eyes again.

You smile at him, and Thomas feels like someone’s nailed his feet to the dirt. You watch Thomas as he watches you. Your smile falls a little bit, and Thomas knows why. He was expecting it, anyways.

“I’m sorry if I’m trespassing, mister, really. It’s just that I live out that way and my cat ran away this morning. I’ve been looking everywhere for her, I thought I could get a better look of the field from up on the fence,” you explain, gesturing behind yourself as you talk. Thomas likes the way your hair moves when you turn, and even though it’s wet with sweat, Thomas's fingers itch to stroke it out of your face.

He's no genius, but he can tell you’re worried. You’re making the same worried face Uncle Monty makes when Uncle Charlie was yelling at him. He was gonna walk anyways, he tells himself, as he gestures for you to follow him.

You look surprised, but you hurry to his side as Thomas starts striding through the trees. You sigh once you’re in the shade.

“Hell of a day, today. Even the shade is hot enough to fry an egg,” you say, walking behind him. You were taller than the other girls that came around here, but still only came up to his chin. He wasn’t gonna bother waiting for you to catch up, one way or another, and strode forward.

Your daddy always used to say that you could talk a gate off its hinges, but walking with this enormous stranger, you found yourself all out of words.

He cut a massive and daunting figure, especially with that dark mask covering his nose and mouth. His clothes were dirty, with brownish reddish stains covering him and his butcher’s apron. His dark curls were unruly and stuck together from sweat underneath the straps and buckles of his muzzle.

There was no better word for what he looked like than mean, but that never scared you off before. Your grandpa was a mean-looking man too, but he was also the sweetest man you’d ever known. You just wished the guy would talk to you too, that’s all. Maybe that would make the twisty nerves in your stomach go away.

Just as your mind starts getting creative about where the stranger could be taking you, he continues past the tree shade to an open field. The grass is still tall here, but it makes rolling waves on top of mounds of dirt.

“Guess here’s a good place to look,” you say, and you trudge forward in the tall grass. The dirt is cool between your toes, and you make little clinking noises with your tongue, interrupted by the occasional, “here, kitty.”

Thomas leaves your side to look on his own. The grass here is thick, and the holes make for some nice shade. Probably pretty nice for a little critter looking to get out of the heat.

You’re bent over, inspecting one of the holes, when you hear a familiar grumpy meow. You shoot back up, glancing down in the tall grass before your eyes land on the masked giant. In his arms is your fat orange cat, looking very displeased about being out in the sunshine.

“Peanut! You found Peanut!” you cry, jumping for joy before running to his side. The man stands there, frozen in place, while you take the cat from his arms and kiss her little forehead.

“Naughty girl, running away from home like that,” you scold, patting the spot above her tail like a faux spank. It barely even lands on her, but she still meows in annoyance. You laugh a little bit and look up at the man who’s already looking at you. Your smile softens as relief makes way for gratitude.

“Thank you, mister. You’ve got no idea how much this little guy means to me. How can I repay you?” you ask, holding on tighter to your cat so she can’t jump from your arms.

He doesn’t answer. You bite your lip.

“You free tomorrow?” you change your question. The man pauses before nodding. “Meet me by the fence again, okay? Same time as today.” The man watches you blankly, but the fact that he’s helped you already puts you more at ease. You smile at him and nod with a sense of finality.

“Thanks again. I’m gonna get out of your hair now.” He stands in the sun, and as you retreat back to the shade for your journey home, you can feel his eyes on you until you’re hidden by the trees.

“He seems nice,” you say to Peanut, who cries out pitifully at being carried. It’s gonna be a long walk home, you realize, as she squirms in your arms to break free again.

Thomas isn’t stupid, no matter what people like to say about him. All things considered, though, he feels pretty stupid standing behind the oak tree nearest to your meeting spot by the fence.

He knew you were coming this time. He could have brought his chainsaw, and if that was too heavy, he could have easily grabbed a hammer or his hook. He could’ve even kept them in his pocket, if he wanted to keep his hands free for the hour long journey.

Instead, he stood weaponless behind a tree, nervous to see you again.

His heartbeat races when he hears footsteps coming from the other side of the fence. He’s finally made up his mind to turn around and leave when you finally spot him. He sees a flash of your smile before forcing his eyes to the dirt.

“Hi, mister,” you say, and just like yesterday, his feet don’t really work. “Sorry if I’m a little late, it’s only ‘cuz I was pulling this out the oven.” He looks over at you and sees the brown basket in your arms, a plaid napkin covering whatever was inside.

Thomas nears you, noticing how your long hair was pulled away from your face into a braid that disappeared behind your back. You wore the same dress, but Thomas liked the way it looked on you. It clung to your chest and loosened around your hips, but the material was thin enough that it stuck to your sweaty legs just slightly.

His attention was forced back to the basket when you put it against his chest. With an empty brain, he grabbed it with both hands from the bottom.

“It’s water pie. My nana used to make it during the Great Depression. Kinda feels like that again nowadays, huh?” you say.

You smile as you say it, but it doesn’t feel like your big smiles, like the kind you gave him when he found your cat, or like how you smiled when you saw him behind the tree.

Thomas opens the napkin to see a still warm pie in the basket, glossy with a mix of white and yellow. He’s never heard of water pie, but Momma didn’t get the chance to make a lot of desserts these days.

He walks to the shady tree, wiping a hand on his apron, and sits heavily with his back to the tree. He has to look over his shoulder to find you, and you’re still standing by the fence.

Annoyed that you’re so far away, he quickly gestures for you to join him.

You give him one of your real big smiles and jump over the fence before sitting next to him, back also to the tree. He watches you take a dull butter knife from the basket and slice the pie up. You look up at him, and he looks down at you.

“Do you eat with that on?” you ask.

Thomas shakes his head. He keeps staring at her.

“Wanna take it off?” you ask next.

Thomas shakes his head again on instinct, but once he stops, he takes another look at the pie. He remembers it being warm still. His head nods once, the movement miniscule like he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’ll look away if it makes you feel better. Swear I won’t look,” you say. Thomas breathes weird and turns away from her before reaching up to take it off.

You hear the buckles being undone and take it as your cue to turn away from the man.

It’s another hot day today, but you wouldn’t have missed your impromptu visit even if the fields were burning. Sure, the man might be odd, but he was mysterious as all get out and you longed to know more about him. It felt a little bit like you were a school girl again, crushing on a cute boy from your class, but it didn’t matter; you promised him repayment, and you always tried your hardest to make good on your word.

You reach behind yourself blindly for a piece from the basket and accidently brush against his hand.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” you say with a little laugh, eyes trained ahead at the fence.

He takes a piece, then you take the slice next to his.

The filling is sticky and gooey, but it stuck together solid when you picked it up. You eat it slowly, savoring the memories that came with the taste, as well as the gentle breeze that picks up under the leaves.

You debate with yourself for some time about grabbing another slice but, figuring he probably wasn’t looking your way, you reach behind yourself and touch the ceramic pie dish instead. You run your hand in a circle and all you feel are crumbs.

“Well gee, mister, I’d’ve made two if I knew you’d be so hungry!” you said cheerfully, grinning as you brought your finger up to your mouth to lick it clean. It wasn’t exactly true, since you barely had the ingredients for one, but he probably already knew that, the town being in the state that it is. “I’m glad you liked it. An empty pie dish is a great compliment.”

You can hear the buckles of his mask again and keep busy by reaching for the basket behind you, folding the napkin back up. It’s pleasantly quiet before the question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since meeting the man finally springs out.

“What’s your name, mister?” you ask, still not looking at him. He doesn’t respond, and you risk glancing back at him. His mask is on, but he doesn’t look at you. It occurs to you that maybe the guy just can’t talk.

Opening the napkin again, you take out the knife and use the rounded tip to write in the dirt. It’s awkward and it’s none too pretty, but your name is clear enough to read. You look to him with a smile and hold the knife out to him, handle first.

He looks between the knife and your name on the ground before carefully taking it from your hand. You already knew his hands were massive but seeing the difference so plainly before your eyes made you blush. Tearing your gaze away from his appendages, you watch the dirt instead as he spells his name out. He writes it thickly, his muscles gouging out the dirt easily with a dull rounded tip. Thomas.

You glance up at him, and when your eyes meet, it feels like electricity.

“It’s nice to meet you, Thomas,” you say. You don’t expect an answer, but he nods anyways.

The sun was past its peak when you finally stood, brushing off your dress. Thomas met you at the fence after you had jumped over it again, basket swinging on your arm. You asked him if he could meet again tomorrow, promising another dessert.

He told himself to say no. He couldn’t picture hurting you the way he did when he first saw you, but he knew this wouldn’t be any good. He’s not the type to make friends, especially not with pretty ladies. It must be his heart controlling his neck muscles because he nodded instead. At least he got to see that smile again.

And so, he met with you again. And then again the day after. Then even the day after that one.

It was only a matter of time before his uncles and Momma realize he’s been out of the house for most of the day, but only Charlie says something about it during their family dinner. He’s loud in Thomas’ ear, and Thomas keeps his head down avoid looking at him. It makes him feel better to call him Charlie in his head. Not Hoyt. Just stupid drunk Charlie.

“You better focus on your work, boy,” Charlie threatens, steak knife pointing at him from across the table.

Thomas goes down to meet you the next day, anyways.

“Hi, Tommy,” you chirp happily, straddling the fence before hopping onto the other side. Thomas liked that you started calling him that, but he doesn’t let himself show it.

He rubs his hands on his apron to get the nerves out of his system and gives a little wave with his first free hand. You don’t have a basket today, but Thomas doesn’t mind. He’s just glad to see you.

“How’s your day treating you so far?” you ask, like you always do. Thomas shrugs, like he always does too. “Peanut misses you, I think. She wants to come with me, but always stops on the porch.”

Thomas thinks about the orange cat again. He wants to tell her that it probably just misses you, since it had been glaring at Thomas from your arms that day. Instead, he just tilts his head at you, not knowing how to gesture all that with his arms.

It’s easy to listen to you. Even when you leave open ended questions, you don’t make Thomas feel pressured to respond. He’d long since given up on pantomiming since he was a teenager, but people still annoyingly waited for his responses. You talked to him like he was an adult, and you never complained about having to deal with him.

You’re talking now, something about Peanut pushing things off counters, and all Thomas can feel is gladness. It’s been a long time since he felt it so strongly, so innocently. He kind of feels like a little kid again, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you under the shady tree in the summertime.

When he touches your hand, you cut yourself off and look up at him. It startles him a little bit, because he realizes that he had nothing he really wanted to tell you. He just wanted to touch you.

“You doing okay?” you ask him, putting your other hand on top of his. Thomas looks down at your hands and nods. He’s doing better than okay. He wants to keep feeling your soft skin on his hand.

“You sure? Looks like somethings on your mind,” you say, sounding sorry. Thomas struggles with how to tell you, which he’s sure you notice. He suddenly takes your hand in his and flips it so that your palm is facing up and your smooth delicate wrist is visible. With his calloused dirty finger, he starts to spell.

“What are you doing?” you say, standing a little straighter and watching how he made the same shape again and again. “Are you… is that a K?”

Thomas nods quickly, looking at you for a split second before focusing down again and drawing a straight line.

“That’s an I. K-I…” you look at him attentively as he gathers his courage. He writes the next two letters quickly in succession. He does it once more before you look up at him, your pretty eyes wide and shinning. “S-S. Kiss.”

Thomas is sure his face is flushed, but he nods. There’s no backing out of it now.

“Oh, Tommy,” you say, and your confusion melts into a smile. “Of course, I’ll kiss you.”

He’s still hunched over from writing on your arm, so the hand you put on his cheek doesn’t have to work much to guide him towards your lips. You’re ready to lean in when your lip brushes against his mask. You laugh softly, running your hand down from his hair to stroke along his covered cheek.

“Can you take this off?” you ask softly.

Thomas shakes his head quickly, covering your hand with his as if you might try to rip it off of him anyways. He knows you wouldn’t, but he can’t think about risking it. Not when you’re so close.

You bite your lip as you think. His own lips move under the mask, imaging what it would be like to touch yours with his. He wishes he was normal. He wishes he had one of his real masks on.

You guide him down lower and tilt your face higher up, and Thomas can feel your lips on his forehead. His eyes close instinctually. He trusts you.

You kiss the spot between his eyebrows next, and he sighs shakily. His hands move your waist, holding you gently.

Then, you kiss the bridge of his nose, and your bottom lips must brush against the edge of his mask. His stomach turns at himself, but he pushes the feeling away.

Your lips follow along the edge of the mask, kissing on the little bit of skin showing under his left eye. When you kiss his temple, your hand moves to cup the back of his head and he shudders.

“I hope you’ll trust me enough, one day,” you say softly, and he practically bends in half to hide his face in your neck. He doesn’t cry, but his throat feels tight like he might. He swallows it all back. He shakes his head softly in the crook of your shoulder, wishing he could correct you. He would bare himself to you completely today if he didn’t think you would run screaming. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to handle that.

Your hands are a soft but persistent pressure on his shoulders. When he straightens up again, he looks down at you.

You lean up suddenly, lip slotting against his mask. Your top lip brushes between his. You taste like sugar and summer air. The kiss is done quickly, but Thomas can’t open his eyes yet. He licks his lips where yours just touched him and commits the taste to memory.

“You still in there?” you ask after a long moment, and Thomas opens his eyes to see you smiling playfully at him.

Thomas smiles when he nods, and stops nodding when you lean in to kiss him again.

He’s never felt so light in his life, having said goodbye to you at the fence after another hour of listening. You even kissed him goodbye, lips touching briefly through the mask as you stood on opposite sides of the fence.

Thomas promised you tomorrow, nodding at your request to see each other again.

His good mood lasts until he gets close enough to the house to hear shouting. He sees Charlie flailing his arms like a mad man by the back of the house, yelling Thomas’s name.

“Where in the ever-loving fuck have you been?” he shouted by the garage, spit flying. Thomas hurried his gait as he neared them. Charlie was bleeding from a wound on his forehead. He steeled himself for what the furious man would sling at him next. “I’ve been screaming for you for the past fucking two hours. Jesus fucking Christ, Thomas! You know, I defend you when people call you names, but maybe you are slow. Just how fucking gone are you up there, huh?!”

Thomas glares at the dirt, imagines pushing his thumbs into Charlie’s eyes until he can’t scream anymore.

“I can’t even look at you, you fucking disappointment. I brought home two stupid as fuck tree-humpers for you, and this is how you repay me? Look at what they did to me. Look!” he grabs Thomas’ apron and shakes him, and Charlie makes him look at the cut on his head. It’s nothing, Thomas has seen him give himself worse when he’s drunk.

“Go get your toy and mow those fuckers down. They’re not getting far, not after what I done to one of them,” he mutters, looking down the dirt road where Thomas can see the distant figures of two limping people. Sighing, Thomas takes off after them, grabbing a hammer from one of the junk piles by the garage.

He didn’t think about you until well into the early morning. He is taking a break from his work, sitting outside while the rest of the family slept in their bedrooms. Blood coated his apron, and he sat on the wide porch with a heavy sigh. He thought about you, wondered how someone so nice could ever want somebody like him.

Thomas was not stupid. He knew murdering people was wrong, just like he knew he was wrong for liking it so much. And he knew he was wrong for liking you.

Rubbing his new face with both hands, he hauled himself up to walk back to the basement. He readjusted the eyeholes as he walked – he had made them too small this time. He’d have to fix that before he did anything else.

Thomas is only one step away from the trees when Charlie hollers his name from the back porch. Thomas sets his jaw and looks over his shoulder to see his uncle gesturing and shouting at him. He can’t make sense of what he’s saying, and he doesn’t really care to. He doesn’t let up, though, so Thomas forces himself to turn back around and trudge back to the house.

He stands in front of Charlie silently.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demands. Thomas has no way of answering, even if he wanted to. His arms cross thickly over his chest instead.

Charlie glowers at him, and Thomas’ stare is just as dark.

“You listen to me, boy. Now, I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, but I think I had good reason to be cross with you. Your family needs you here, Thomas. We need you to keep us safe. What if something happened to your momma?”

Thomas’ eyes glance at the house, where he knew his momma was resting comfortably. Still, the thought unnerved him. Looking back at Charlie, he sees the self-satisfied look on his face, like he knows he won.

“Be a good guard dog and guard the fucking house. Please.”

Thomas’ jaw tightened. He thought about you, walking from your home to see him. Thought about what you might’ve brought, although he wouldn’t care either way as long as you were there. But Charlie had a point. What if Charlie brought guests and they tried to hurt one of them? What if they hurt Momma?

A frustrated noise left his throat and he stomped away from Charlie back to his basement. He couldn’t think straight. The damn sun shined too brightly, and it made his head hurt. Slamming the door to the basement shut, he welcomes the darkness and sets his sights on his unfinished projects.

He only rises from his basement when the sun starts to set. A walk through the house tells Thomas he’s alone, the other members dispersing to be on their own too.

He’d been sad, passing the time while thinking about you getting stood up. Sadness in his chest, he walked to the fence anyways. He might feel better if he could just look at it and imagine how you look in your pretty dress.

At the end of his trek, he freezes as he passes the last low hanging branch. There you are, laying unconscious by the oak tree. He rushes to your side and hesitates helplessly before kneeling next to you. He holds onto your shoulders and tries to shake you awake, harsher and harsher as you don’t wake up. He’s beginning to panic when you suddenly open your eyes with a gasp. You stare up at Thomas with wide eyes. They shine in the white Texan moonlight.

“Thomas?” you whisper.

“What time is it?”  You sit up and Thomas stays next to you, arms awkwardly hovering around you like you might fall asleep again. He’s breathing hard like he’s been running. “Is it nighttime already?”

Thomas nods, sighing finally once he catches his breath. Head low, he touches your arm and drags his hand down past your elbow to catch your hand. His brows are drawn, and despite his size, he seems to shrink as he clutches you like something delicate that might blow out of his hold.

He looks up when you touch his chin, gently guiding him to meet your eye.

“You okay? Did something happen?” you ask him. Thomas just shakes his head, squeezing your hand in his. He carefully turns your arm over, revealing your wrist. There, he writes down four letters. S-O-R-Y.

“Sorry? Oh, bubba, you don’t have to be sorry,” you murmur, smiling at him. “I needed a little nap, anyways. C’mere.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a little hug. He melts into you, forehead pressed against the crook of your neck.

“Sweet boy,” you murmur, hand rubbing down his spine. “It’s okay. You’re alright.”

“I should start on back,” you say after a few silent moments, your hand still rubbing comforting circles on his back. Thomas stiffens and pulls away, and he won’t meet your gaze. You don’t want to part from him tonight, you realize.

When he glances at you, you’re biting your lip.

“Unless you know somewhere we can spend the night?” you suggest softly. Thomas’s face is blank as he thinks about it, but he soon stands up and holds a hand out for you. You take it and he hauls you up, leading the way through the trees. You like how he holds your hand, all encompassing and pleasantly warm in the breezy night air.

He brings you to a barn, standing alone in an empty field. It looks out of use, but bales of hay still line some of the walls, as well as some common tools for the land. You don’t bother looking around too much – you only have eyes for your Tommy. He stands in the barn, looking around for the best spot to lay down. You know it’s wherever he is, his wide chest looks like it’ll be a softer pillow than what you have at home.

“Tommy, c’mere,” you say, finding a bed of dry hay that looks cleaner than the rest. You sit down first, laying back in the rustling fodder. Your eyes meet his as you stretch your arms above your head.

Thomas stands above you. His eyes are dark.

“Lay down with me,” you speak softly. Thomas glances out the open barn doors for a moment before giving up on whatever battle was going on through his mind. You watch him unfasten his dirty apron and hang it off one of the half stables beside them. He lays down beside you, his heavy weight making the pile unsteady. You fall into him with a little laugh, a steadying hand on his chest.

“Oops,” you say with a little smile. You’re surprised to see Thomas return it. He has such a handsome smile; you wish he would smile more for you.

Leaning up, you kiss him through his mask, hands coming up to hold his face.

He exhales heavily, it almost sounds like a moan. He tries to kiss you back, but it’s impossible through the thick leather. Sighing  softly, you kiss his temple and forehead instead, trying not to seem too frantic. It’s difficult, though, as you feel your body make you aware just how badly its craving Thomas.

“Please, Tommy. Please. I wanna kiss you. Please take it off,” you whisper, lips brushing against his tanned skin.

Thomas goes stiff hearing his pleas and pulls away. You watch him go with a pout. He turns away from you slightly.

“Thomas,” you say softly. He turns away further. Sighing quietly, you touch his shoulder. “Tommy. You know it don’t matter to me how you look. Not one bit. I’m always gonna think you’re my handsome guy.”

Thomas shakes his head, but you don’t give up. Kneeling, you hug him from behind, arms wrapping up to his shoulders from underneath his arms.

“I mean it, Tommy.” You put your forehead on his warm back. “I would never think bad about you. Hell, you could kill someone and I’d find a way to defend you,” you say with a little teasing smile. You feel Thomas put his hand on your forearm, gentle and unmoving.

“I could keep my eyes closed,” you suggest quietly. Thomas turns at that and looks at you with imploring eyes. You smile at him, small and secret, and free an arm to cup his cheek. You kiss the bridge of his nose just above his mask before pulling away.

You sit up and turn away from him partially, eyes closing and hands coming up to cover your eyes. “Ok, Tommy. I’m ready.”

In the dark, you rely on sounds. It’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear the buckle of the mask being undone. You exhale shakily, your heart beating near out of your chest. He must have set it down on the ground beside them because you can feel his hands on you, one on your elbow and the other covering your hands just over your eyes.

You’ve never really been described as small, but you feel it next to him. Even without vision, his presence alone towers over you. It should be intimidating, but it only makes you feel safe.

Your lips part and you drop your hands, letting Thomas touch your face directly. It’s even better since you can now put your hands around his back and hold him close.

Despite his size, he kisses you timidly, like he’s shy you’ll shatter into pieces with too much force applied. His touch is so gentle, even as he crowds you. You kiss him back passionately, encouraging him silently with your enthusiasm. You suddenly long to be naked in front of him, to let him blindfold you and use you however he needs. You know he’d be careful with you if this is how he kisses.

“Tommy,” you murmur between kisses, hands fisting in his shirt. “Tommy, I think I love you.”

Thomas can’t answer you, but he kisses you again and again like he’s saying the same.

Weeks pass. The summer turns into autumn, but the heat doesn’t go anywhere. Thomas can’t meet every day, but he wishes he could. Tourists come by from time to time, and everyone in the family does their part to make ends meet.

You’re all alone out here, he knows from your late-night talks. On evenings where neither of you had anything to do the next morning, you and Thomas would walk together to the barn. You always clung to his arm once the building was in sight, glancing up at him from time to time with your shiny eyes. He’s pretty sure you were both a little nervous everytime, but it was a good kind of nervous. He didn’t know there could be a good kind until he met you.

Thomas holds you on the hay pile, more comfortable now with a blanket you brought from home thrown over the mound. You’re naked, and Thomas likes your soft cool skin against his own. Although you’re both covered in sweat, the night is cool and comfortable, and Thomas likes the way you rub your hand slowly across his chest.

When your stomach growls, Thomas glances at you.

“Sorry,” you say. You smile, but it looks sad. “Just hungry. It’s been hard finding stuff to eat with the town being empty.” He knows the feeling well.

He takes your arm from where it’s resting on his stomach and gently twists your wrist towards himself. H-O-M-E, he spells.

“Mine?” you ask softly, head cocking to the side.

Thomas shakes his head and points to himself.

“Yours? What about it?” you ask softly, looking up from your wrist.

F-O-O-D, he spells next. Your eyes go wide.

“Oh, Tommy. You’re too kind to me,” you say softly, and Tommy lets go of your arm so that you can hug him.

His arms instinctually go around your waist, holding you close. He wants to tell you that he’s not just being kind. He would give everything he owns to you if what he owned was worth giving. He kicks himself mentally for not thinking about getting you some food sooner, though.

“Can we go tomorrow?” you ask. He wants to bring you there today, but there won’t be any food this late. He nods, hands running down your back slowly. He can feel his rough callouses catch on your smooth skin, but you don’t flinch or move away. You never have from him. He wants you, more than he wants to butcher, more than he wants to help his family.

“I should go home,” you say. The sky is dark, but the moon is large and bright in the sky, like the sun. Thomas shakes his head.

“No?” you say, laughing a little bit. You lean back and cup his cheeks over his mask. When you smile down at him, he imagines the touch of your lips against his own. On your back, he draws four letters, S-T-A-Y.

“All night?” you ask, pushing some hair off his forehead.

He nods, eyes stuck to your lips, so close but impossible to reach in that moment.

“Won’t your family be looking for you?” you wonder. You rub your thumb along his eyebrow, soothing him into shutting his eyes.

Thomas shakes his head slightly at the question, not wanting to knock your hands off him. He’s sure Charlie will be mad, but he doesn’t care. How could he when he has you in his arms.

“In that case,” you start, moving your legs apart to straddle his hips, “I suppose I’ve got you all to myself.” Thomas watches you closely as you run your hands down his chest and past his stomach, settling just above his open belt. Neither of you get very much sleep that night.

In the morning, he takes you by the hand as he leads you through the front door. The house is quiet despite its size, which makes it seem like it should be teeming with activity and sound. The outside is grey and dusty, same as the front foyer where you stand beside Thomas. You glance around, giving him a nervous smile when you finally hear footsteps coming from the other room.

“Thomas Hewitt, where have you been all night! You had us worried sick!” an older lady says, coming through the doorway. She’s short and plump, with tendrils of her grey hair framing her face, and her glasses make her look like a schoolteacher. She stops when she sees you, clearly surprised. “Oh! You brought company!”

You smile at her, stepping forward as she comes to meet you. She grins at you and takes your hands in her own.

“Hi, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” you say, introducing yourself with your name.

“Oh, the manners on this one! Usually, our guests are a little more ornery!” she says to Thomas, laughing. You don’t understand what she means, but you smile graciously as she tries to lead you back to the room she was in. You start to follow her, but stumble against Thomas as he blocks your way. He shakes his head at her.

“No?” the lady questions. She looks confused, but Thomas shakes his head again. He takes your hands from her, and then you feel his arm around your shoulder, keeping you at his side. “Thomas? What on earth is going on with you?”

You’re just as confused, but you don’t want to get in between a family dispute. You look up at Thomas, waiting to see what he does next.

“Is she why you didn’t come home last night?” the woman asks. A cold sweat blooms on the back of your neck with her face falls completely, turning into a blank mask. You’ve only just met her, but you can hardly recognize her from the woman that took your hands.

“I’m Thomas’ girlfriend,” you say, your voice smaller than you intended. You try to clear your throat politely. “I care about him very much, ma’am.”

You gasp when the woman turns on you, her finger pointed at your face as she snaps, “I don’t know how you tricked my son into falling for your tricks, you whore! Hoyt!” Thomas grunts, and the noise startles you – you’ve never heard the man make a sound louder than a labored breath before. Thomas pushes you behind his back and away from who must be his mother.

“No, I’m not a whore,” you say, but your voice is so meek under her disapproving stare. You clutch onto Thomas’ arm, and you can feel his tense muscles.

Someone stomps down the stairs then, an older man in a sheriff’s uniform. Seeing the pistol on his belt, you start to shake.

“And who do we have here?” the man drawls – Hoyt, your mind supplies,

Thomas shakes his head vigorously and stands in front of you completely now, shielding you from his mother and the Sheriff.

“She says she’s Tommy’s girlfriend!” his mother cries, as if she was grieving. The man barks a laugh at that, loud and unbelieving.

“A girlfriend, Tommy! That’s where you’ve been running off to all these weeks! How much he owe you, trollop? Because he ain’t got no money to give,” the man mocks meanly, guffawing as he tries to walk around Thomas to get a better look. You shrink behind Thomas as he does his best to keep you hidden away. “Bet you found her trying to hitch a ride off the highway.”

“I lived in this town my whole life, sir. I swear I’m no hussy,” you say, voice weak and muffled against Thomas’s back.

“Oh, yeah? That mean you two are in love or something?” he says, managing to grab your forearm and pull you out from behind Thomas. You shout in pain as you’re pulled between the two men, causing Thomas to let go of you. Without your shield, you’re faced with the old man and his drunk breath. You cringe away from him when he leans into you, inspecting you like you’re just a thing.

“Just get her out of here,” Thomas’ mother mourns.

“I ain’t no hussy!” you sob, eyes closed as tears start to escape your lashes. The old man laughs in your face, and he shakes you with his grip on your arm.

“Hear that, Momma? She ain’t no hussy! So, you sleep with Tommy for free?”

“I love him,” you sob, face crumpling as you feel yourself finally break. You wish you understood what you did wrong by these people. Thomas tries to break you and Hoyt apart, but the man shoves him away despite being smaller than him.

“Love? You love him?” Hoyt almost screams with laughter. “Does she even know what you do, Tommy? She ever see you without that mask on?

“Why don’t you go ahead and take it off? Take it off, Thomas! Shouldn’t your girlfriend know what you look like?” he turns you in his arms, forcing you to face Thomas. Your heartbreaks for him, and you see Thomas duck his head down low, arms bent by his stomach as he anxiously fidgets his hands.

“Stop it, leave him alone!” you sob, trying to wrench yourself out of the man’s hold.

“Why? Don’t you wanna see what he looks like? Pretty thing like you should have a handsome boyfriend to go along with it, huh?” Desperate, you look behind you to see Thomas’s mother watching the scene unfold with a handkerchief under her nose. You cry out when the man shakes you again, his grip unforgiving for such an old man.

“You know what? Why don’t we give your girlfriend here a tour, huh Tommy? What do you say?” Hoyt asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer when he starts to drag you out through the front door and down the porch steps.

You stumble down them, almost falling out of the man’s arms, but he forces you upright again before going around to the back of the house. Thomas follows you both, and you can see the frantic way he tries to grab for you but hesitates. Even now, you know your sweet Tommy is afraid to hurt you, but you wish he would rip you out from Hoyt’s grip and stand up for himself.

At the cellar door, Hoyt lets go of one arm to push open the wooden door. You can’t see beyond where the sunlight hits the steps.

“Don’t be shy. Go see,” Hoyt says, before you’re pushed down the steps. You shout as you fall, managing to cover your head with your hands, but your body throbs in pain once you land on the cold concrete below.

You weep at his cruelty, curling in on yourself to hide away from the next blow. Instead, you can hear Thomas’s heavy footsteps down the wooden steps. His thick arms wrap around you, and he holds you tightly to his chest.

“Tommy,” you sob, pushing your face into his chest.

“Tell her, Tommy! Tell her what you do! Share your family pride!” Charlie shouts, laughing at them.

“That’s enough,” Luda Mae says quietly from somewhere behind him.

“Show her who you really are, boy, then see if she loves you,” Charlie says. Then he slams the door to the basement shut, leaving them both in darkness.

“Tommy,” you whimper through your tears, starting to lift your head out from his chest. You’re stopped by Thomas’s large hand cupping the back of your head, keeping you close. You can’t see the room, but it smells like blood and rot, and it makes your stomach churn.

You don’t ask him because he won’t be able to explain anyways. Hoyt’s words echo in your mind, and even if it makes no sense, you can understand that something is wrong here. But Thomas holds you and rocks you like a child until you have no more tears to give.

You wake up when the setting sun turns the sky orange. You rub your eyes and sit up, suddenly aware that you’re in an unfamiliar place. No one is around. Looking around the room, you see it’s a simple bedroom, with threadbare sheets. The only furniture besides your bed is a nightstand and a dresser with a missing drawer.

“Tommy?” you say out loud, but you don’t hear anything in response. You stand up and go downstairs, realizing as you enter the foyer that you’re still at Thomas’s house.

In the kitchen is the same woman from before.

“Oh, hi, darling. I figured you’d wake up soon. I realize I never introduced myself. I’m Tommy’s momma,” she says, like she wasn’t accusing you of something terrible earlier in the day. You smile weakly at her. You want to ask where Tommy is. You want to go home.

“Why don’t you sit down? You missed supper but I’ve got some leftovers still on the stove.”

You hesitate, but finally make your way to the kitchen table. Your stomach growls at the promise of food as you sit.

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m sorry for before.”

“Nonsense. I don’t think any of us understood how much you meant to our Tommy.”

You smile and start to eat when she puts the bowl in front of you.

“Where is Tommy?” you ask, looking up at her.

“Working,” she sighs, smiling at you. “We had guests come by in the afternoon.”

“Like a bed and breakfast?” you ask naively. She laughs at you, right to your face.

“You’re a funny one, girl. I see why Thomas likes you. Pretty and with a good sense of humor.”

You smile, laughing shakily as you eat some of the stew. You can’t tell if it’s pork, beef, or rabbit.

“I want to see Tommy. Where can I find him?” you try again.

“He’s working, sweetheart. He made it very clear he don’t want you in the basement anymore.”

Flashes of the basement make you dizzy, and you shake your head.

“I want to go home,” you whisper, dropping your spoon in the bowl and holding your face with both hands.

She sighs gently and puts her hand on top of your head. She rubs your hair flat gingerly.

“Oh, baby. You are home. Everything’s gonna be alright now. You’ve got us to take care of you.” She lets go of you and gets back to her work from before you came down. “You just let Tommy blow off some steam first. He and Hoyt got into a little fight after he brought you to bed. Nothing for you to worry about.”

You swallow thickly as you look around the grey kitchen. You wonder what kind of work Thomas could be doing in that basement with his guests. You look at the bowl of food in front of you.

You’re so hungry.

© slicznymartwy 2023, please do not repost or copy.

[hsgucci94]

Overthinking

Summary: The one where Y/N feels like hers and Harry’s relationship is now just sex.

Word count: 700

masterlist

———

“Is sex all you want from me?,” Y/N mumbled, walking out of the bathroom and laying back on Harry’s bedsheets. He was right beside her, as naked as her after the fun they shared, but his attention was somewhere else.

As soon as he heard her words, he looked up from his phone screen and in her direction, frowning. “No. Why are you even asking that?” He didn’t finish typing the message. He turned the device off and put it back on his nightstand, his whole body turning to her.

Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling above her, her hand in her stomach as she bit the inside of her cheek. Truth was, she had been feeling that way for a few weeks now, and she wondered if they had grown apart.

“Hey, Y/N. Look at me,” he softly called her, making her face turn to him, “Where’s all this coming from?”

She shrugged her shoulder, suddenly regretting having even made such question.

Harry and her started off as fuck buddies after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend at a club on a Saturday night. They both had just got out of pretty messy relationships, and having fun with no commitments was exactly what the two of them were looking for at the time. For a few months, their sporadic redez-vous worked really well, until feelings got involved and they started seeing one another as something more than just sexual partners. Ever since then, they had been dating for almost a year, but for the past weeks, the only short moments they had shared had always had to do with sex, as if their initial chemistry had disappeared and the only string that kept Harry glued to her was sexual attraction, just like during their first months together.

“Tell me, baby,” he softly pleaded.

“It’s just that… I barely get to see you because of your job and when I do, the only thing we do is fuck,” she sighed.

She would have thought her mind and chest would be at ease once she let those words out, but they weren’t. If anything, she was feeling even more anxious, scared she might be right and that that was it for her and Harry. She didn’t want them to break up, but maybe he was ready to part ways and hadn’t known how to tell her so until she brought the topic up. Now he had the perfect excuse to.

“I’ve developed the ability to read that gorgeous face of yours pretty well, lovie… I know you’re overthinking right now, and I can assure you it has nothing to do with whatever your mind is telling you,” he replied, taking the hand that was placed over her stomach and locking his fingers with hers afterwards.

“Then what is it?,” her voice unintentionally cracked mid-sentence.

She wasn’t going to start crying right there and then; she was just feeling a bit overwhelmed by her mind and the thought of them ever not being together. Gosh, she was so head over heels for that six-feet-tall, long-dark-curly-haired boy she was able to call hers that she couldn’t even imagine them ever ending things.

“With everything happening with the band, our upcoming hiatus and all that, I guess I forgot to check on you in that sense,” he confessed, while guilt started to take upon him, “Sex with you just feels so good you know I can never resist it,” he chuckled a bit, in an attempt to erase all her possible doubts regarding their relationship, “But I’d no idea you felt this way, and I’m sorry. I’m glad you told me, though.” He sweetly smiled at her, pressing their foreheads together.

“You promise is just that?”

“You’ve got my word, baby,” he nodded, assuring her his words were true, “I’m taking you out for dinner tomorrow, by the way. I’ve heard there’s a new restaurant in town and I want us to try it.”

“You know I’m more than content with us cooking dinner at home,” she confessed, not wanting him to feel obligated to do things he didn’t want to just to keep her happy.

“I know, but I want us to have some fun outdoor, too. As you said, we have already had enough of it here at home.”

She giggled, agreeing with him.

[bots-and-cons]

I was re-reading your rules, do you mind writing merformers?

Like merformers starscream had gotten a beating from megatron for whatever his latest takeover scheme was and the reader found Starscream injured on the strip of inlet her backyard is on. She nursed the merformer back to health and now he’s kind of spoiled because whenever he can’t get food or just doesn’t feel like hunting he knows he just has to show up and the readers house and she will have some sort of food for him. He won’t admit it but Starscream is developing a crush and puff up his fins and Gill frills to look bigger (he’s totally posturing) 😂

Omg, I freaking love this especially the whole posturing part you mentioned. I just hope I did it justice because I had a lot of thoughts about this but I don't know if I really got them to sound coherent

•Starscream had managed to get away from Megatron, but he had passed out from his injuries

•When he woke up, he found himself washed up on a small beach

•He didn’t realize it right away, but someone had wrapped his arms and tail fins in something white

•When he did  though, he tried to immediately get it off

•”Hey, don’t do that!” he heard someone yell

•Starscream can understand english but since his species doesn’t communicate the same way humans do, he can’t exactly talk it’s more like clicks, hisses and chirps if that makes sense

•Well he could learn to talk at least to some extent, but since he has a dislike for humans, he’s never bothered to

•He of course hissed at you and attempted to get back into the ocean, away from the beach and away from you

•But his tail was hurt and so were his arms so he couldn’t really back away from you

•You’d heard of merfolk, sure, but you never imagined you’d meet one

•So when this big mer washed up on the beach behind your house, you were a bit hesitant as to what to do

•But then you noticed he was bleeding and hurt so you decided to patch him up and hope he wouldn’t eat you in the process

•You got him patched up, and sat down on a rock a few meters away waiting for him to wake up

•You occasionally threw some water on him with a bucket, so he wouldn’t dry up

•But when he woke up you ended up in a bit of a standoff

•Starscream was just staring at you with a very aggressive expression, but you also detected some fear in his eyes

•So you sat back down on the rock and just told him: “Don’t take those off, they’re gonna help you heal” motioning towards the bandages

•Starscream retreated back into the water but he didn’t leave, he just sort of swam circles where he could still keep an eye on you

•You sat there on the rock and looked as the gray mer swam lazy circles in the water

•You figured some food might help him feel better so you went in to get the rest of the fish you’d cooked earlier that day

•You set it on the beach, on a plate of course and sat back down to wait 

•Starscream smelled the fish and hesitantly swam closer to the shore, grabbing the fish quickly and stuffing it into his mouth before diving back under

•This became almost a daily occurrence, Starscream would appear on the shallows behind your house and you would feed him whatever you happened to have at hand 

•He also let you take off his bandages after about a week of this whole trust building exercise

•Starscream started to bring you gifts in exchange for the food, things like sea shells and fish, but he mostly brought the fish so you would cook it and give it back to him because he was starting to get a bit spoiled

•Every time you come to bring him food, he tries to look as big as he can because he wants to impress you and seem strong

•One night you were going for a little swim and Starscream appeared and started swimming slow circles around you

•You were just floating there, looking up at the night sky and smiling

•Starscream found himself staring at you in awe and he started swimming closer and closer to you

•You weren’t scared, but you were a little nervous about the way he was looking at you

•You could only see his eyes and up from there and you sort of felt like you were being hunted

•Not like in a bad way though, more like he just wanted to catch you and not actually eat you

[byersbootyshorts]

Hello, I would like to request Bones imagine or headcanon or whatever you'd like of Zack Addy in a romantic and domestic life setting with his S/O please?

The Breakfast Anomaly (Z.A.)

After a long week at work you decide to start your day off by making breakfast for Zack. But when he decides to help you it takes a disastrous turn.

Word Count: 1,864

Warnings: s1!Zack, gn!reader, eating, food, egg violence (you’ll see)

I love geniuses who don’t know how to cook

You were coming home from a long day at work. A long week actually. Identifying bones that had been ground into tiny grains and then finding the killer was no easy feat. The hours were long and the rest was little. But now the case was over. The killer had been caught and you could finally take a break. Dr Brennan had given you all a couple of days off and you were going to make the most of it.

You drove in silence. Zack sat half asleep in the passenger seat, his head knocking against the window at every bump in the road. When you finally made it home you both instantly slouched into bed, too tired to do anything other than kiss each other goodnight.

The next morning you woke up late. You could still hear Zack’s rhythmic breathing beside you, letting you know he was still asleep. Suddenly, you were hit with a wave of hunger. Then you realised that, the last couple of days, you’d been so focused on your job that you barely took time to eat much other than a few oat bars and whatever you could scavenge from the vending machine. Zack was the same. This new, uncomfortable feeling forced you to slowly pull yourself out of bed and make some breakfast. As you pulled on a hoodie you looked down at Zack’s sleeping figure. He shifted slightly, adjusting to the absence of your body beside his. But, from what you could tell, he was still sound asleep. That’s when you decided to do something nice for him. You were going to make him breakfast in bed. It was your day off after all. You had plenty of time.

You quickly rifled through your cupboards for ingredients and finally decided to make him pancakes. You had the ingredients neatly laid on the counter and were about to start baking when you heard movement behind you. You spun around to find Zack walking groggily into the kitchen.

“No! Ugh, you’re not supposed to be here,” you complained.

“Good morning to you too,” he replied, his voice raspy from sleep.

“Sorry,” you said, pouring him a cup of coffee. “It’s just, I wanted to make you breakfast in bed. But since you’re not in bed anymore, I can’t really do that .”

“I’ll happily go back to bed if that’s what you want,” Zack smiled, taking the steaming cup from you.

“Yes, please do. This is our day off and we’re going to do it right,” you said, practically pushing him back towards the bedroom.

“No, no, come on. I can’t let you do this by yourself,” Zack rebutted. “Let me help.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, you, Zack Addy, want to help me cook? Have you ever cooked anything in your life.”

He thought for a moment, scrunching up his nose. “Does toast count?” he asked.

“No, toast does not count,” you grinned.

“Please let me help,” he begged. “How hard can it be?”

You gave in, letting go of him and walking back over to the counter. “Ok, just please do exactly what I tell you to.”

“I live to serve,” he smiled, way too enthusiastic for the simple task of making pancakes.

You shook your head, laughing at him. “Ok then, first of all, hands,” you began, moving to the sink to wash your hands. Zack followed you. When the water came pouring out of the tap, onto your hands, you playfully flicked some of it at Zack.

“Hey,” he yelled, his shirt staining dark from the water.

“Whoops,” you smirked, grabbing a towel to dry your hands.

Next, you told Zack to read the recipe. “Please just read it,” you pleaded. “Just because you’re a genius doesn’t mean you can randomly guess what the ingredients are.”

Zack picked up the book and spent a minute skimming through it. “Got it,” he said. “It’s locked up in the photographic memory.” He tapped his temple confidently.

“If you’re so confident, what do we have to do first?” you asked.

“We have to mix all the dry ingredients in a bowl,” he explained.

“Good, let’s do that,” you said, looking for a wooden spoon in the drawer.

Zack carefully measured out the flour, sugar and baking powder and poured them into a big bowl where you mixed them together. 

“Alright, I’m surprised there’s been no disasters yet, so let’s keep going before I jinx us,” you said when you were done mixing.

“Now we need melt some butter and add it to the dry ingredients,” Zack said, as though he were reciting the recipe in this head.

You melted the butter, which was now a scalding pond of yellow liquid. “If you spill that I will literally kill you,” you threatened as Zack carefully carried it from the stove to the counter.

“I work with delicate bones for a living. I think I can carry a bowl from one place to another.”

When he finally safely made it to the counter you poured the melted butter into the other bowl. Once again you stirred the ingredients together. Meanwhile, Zack walked over to the fridge.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Milk,” he said, walking back over, measuring it out and pouring it into the bowl as well.

“Wow, you’re getting the hang of this,” you smiled.

“Did you ever doubt me?” he replied. “Now, let’s cook them. I’m starving.”

You got out a frying pan and sprayed it with oil. “I’ll do the first one to show you how to do it,” you told him.

You poured a dollop of the mixture onto the searing pan. It looked a little different than you thought it should look, but you shrugged it off. It had been a while since you made pancakes. Maybe you just forgot what it was supposed to look like?

“See these bubbles?” You pointed with your spatula to the bubbles forming at the side of the pancake.

“Mhm,” Zack hummed, leaning in to see what you were talking about.

“When you start to see these, that’s how you know it’s time to flip,” you explained. You lifted the pan off the heat, concentrating on what you were about to do next. You jerked your hands and the pancake flew into the air before landing neatly back on the pan.

“Obviously, you don’t have to do that,” you said, placing the pan back on the flame. “You can just use the spatula.”

“No, I want to,” Zack protested. “It can’t be that hard.”

You chuckled but decided to humour him. “Ok, genius, give it a try.”

When the first pancake was done you allowed Zack to pour more mixture onto the pan. He waited in anticipation for the bubbles to appear, his eyes wide like a puppy.

“Can I do it now?” he asked, excitedly. You looked down to find the edge of the pancake dotted with tiny bubbles.

“Yeah, it’s ready,” you confirmed. Immediately Zack lifted the pan. You instinctively took a step back. “Just, please be careful, Zack.”

Zack exhaled deeply, preparing himself before he dramatically tossed the pan. The pancake rose into the air. You winced as it almost hit the ceiling. But just before it made contact, it started to fall... right onto Zack’s head.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing as the uncooked side of the pancake slid down Zack’s head, onto his face.

“Oh my God,” you both said in unison.

When you finally recovered from your fit of laughter you grabbed a towel and attempted to wipe Zack’s hair. But instead of cleaning it off it sort of just smeared it in.

“It’s fine,” he sighed. “I’ll shower after we eat.”

“Maybe you should stick to using the spatula from now on,” you suggested. Zack reluctantly grabbed it from you, rolling his eyes.

It took a painfully long time, and by the end of it you were both ravenous, but eventually you used up all the batter.

“Finally,” Zack said, getting plates while you looked in your cupboards for syrup.

You both sat at the table, the stack of pancakes in front of you, Simultaneously, you hungrily reached for one and doused it in syrup. You shoved it in your mouth and the first thing you tasted was the sweet syrup as it coated your mouth. But then, when you started to chew, the taste of the pancake itself became apparent. Your chewing slowed and your face contorted in disgust. You turned to Zack and his expression mirrored yours.

“Ew,” he mumbled through his mouthful of food.

“Yeah, something’s not right,” you said. You placed your fork back on the plate and forced yourself to swallow the mouthful as you got up to check the recipe.

Flour? Check.

Sugar? Check.

Butter? Check.

Milk? Check

Eggs?

“Oh my God, eggs!” you shouted when you realised the fatal ingredient you’d forgotten.

“Ah, that would explain it,” Zack said matter-of-factly.

“You are an idiot,” you chuckled. “So much for that photographic memory of yours. How is it possible that you can literally reconstruct a skull but can’t bake a pancake?”

“Hey, I’m tired. Give me a break,” Zack retorted.

You sighed. What were you going to do now? You were still starving.

“Maybe we should just go to a café for breakfast,” Zack said, as though he were reading your mind. But then you had an idea. You couldn’t tell if you were delusional from still being so tired or if the eggless pancakes had somehow altered your brain chemistry, but you were suddenly overcome by a childish urge.

“We could…” you began, picking the untouched box of eggs off the counter. “But we still have some uncooked batter. We could just add the eggs to it.”

“We do? Where?” Zack questioned, looking puzzledly around the room.

“Right here,” you said, taking an egg from the box and slamming it on the part of Zack’s hair that was still smothered in batter. The egg cracked and its contents dripped onto Zack’s already messy hair and all the way down his face. His jaw dropped and he scoffed in shock.

“Oh my God,” he yelled in the same tone as before.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. But before you had time to do either, Zack had grabbed an egg from the box in your hand and smashed in on your head.

“Hey, what the hell?” you shouted as the cold egg trickled down your nose.

“Now we’re even,” Zack smirked.

You shook your head but smiled back at him. “You are such a child,” you laughed, wiping some egg off your face that was about to fall into your eye.

“You started it,” Zack replied.

“And now I’m finishing it,” you said, taking the box of eggs out of his grasp before he reached for another one. “Now let’s go and get cleaned up so we can actually go and buy some proper food.”

“Can we get cleaned up together?” Zack asked, raising his brow.

“Oh, grow up,” you smirked. Nevertheless, you began pulling him into the bathroom by the neck of his shirt.

[avatarrecom]

Hey! Do you have have any head cannons for the poly!recoms when the reader is sick?

Sickness

Pairing: Poly!recoms x reader

Word count: 1435

A/N: I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

My headcanons of how the recoms take care of you when you're sick.

I have no idea if they have stores in Bridgehead, but just imagine that they have a grocery store or something.

🌍 Recom Miles Quaritch You really miss him, because even tho he wanted nothing more than to stay with you, he needs to take care of his other responsibilities. He ordered you to stay in bed, so obviously you’re sneaking out of bed when he’s gone and just doing whatever you feel like in your room (You have a habit of doing the exact opposite of what he wants you to do when you’re off shift because “Fuck you, you can’t tell me what to do”). You’re not expecting him home soon, until… “What are you doing out of bed?” “Uh, nothing, I just got up to use the bathroom” Cue Miles cocking his eyebrow and staring at you until you tell the truth. “Okay, okay! You win! i'm going back to bed” Usually orders one of your other partners to check up on you every five minutes.

😈 Recom Lyle Wainfleet This man- he would tease you so much. "Hahahaha, you're so sick.. get it? you're sick and are sick as a person.." Cue your angry glare. I think he would also take care of you so (too) much. You better be ready for this man's attention, because he's going to give it all to you!! You want some food? he'll order it (he'll try to cook what you want first and it's looking burned as shit, he'll order the food and say that he cooked it for you) "Oh yeah, I totally cooked it for you!" He would also be the type of partner to spoil you a lot during your sickness, want some cuddles? he'll give them to you even if he might be sick for the next few days. This boy doesn’t mind it, all he wants is you to feel better. He'll check on google ‘how to help someone with sickness’ and he'll try to make you fall asleep by singing (it makes you feel worse, but you don’t tell him).

🍬 Recom Z-dog Actually gets angry at you for getting sick. But she gets angry not because you’re sick, but because she’s worried. She’s the best health care taker you could ever ask for (after Ja, because the medic obviously knows best). Will blackmail Quaritch into letting her and Walker take care of you together. Cue impromptu girls day. She won’t give you any nice words (because she’s angry), but she will cuddle you for hours. Angry cuddles™. If you get cravings for junk food, she won’t give it, because “That won’t make you better Sweets.” When you’re better, she’ll offer you one of her last pieces of gum.

🥽 Recom Walker Takes care of you together with Z-dog. Will text Ja every minute to ask him what to do/what you need. She'll buy you so much food and goodies to make your sickness week not so terrible. She’ll call Z-dog and tells her to put the phone on speaker. "Hey Peach, I'm currently at the store. What do you need or want? oh and by the way, forget money exists, thank you!! "I love you." "What do you mean 'forget money exists' you still have to take care of your wallet lol.. but if you could find any of *fav food/desserts* it would make me super happy”. After she hangs up the phone she gets a confirmation text from Z-dog that she made you smile.

😎 Recom Mansk This man is excited and super happy. Not excited and happy because you're sick, but because he can *finally* take care of you! Would never show these emotions to you or your other partners, but thinks to himself, “I can finally take care of her without her complaining!" He would do anything for you. Want some soup? he'll make you some. Stubbornly refuses to buy you any food. “Whatever you want, I can make for you.” If he needs to leave for a while, he'll make sure you're comfortable and have everything you need close to you while he's gone so you don't have to move.

🧯 Recom Prager This man caters to your every need, “Do you need anything? I can get more blankets, food, water?” “I'm okay, Honey.” He still gets you all the stuff. Every 10 seconds he asks if you’re okay and if he needs to get Ja. You refuse. He still drags your other partner in for a check-up. If he isn’t with you, he’s telling everyone about how one of his partners is sick and he needs to get back to them. Since you're sick, he'll do your chores or the things you needed to do that day, even tho you protest a lot at that. "What did I tell you, baby? If you're sick, then I'll take care of anything. I really don't mind, love. Please, go back to bed, I don't want you to catch a cold." "How can I catch a cold-" "Everything's possible okay? One time, Lyle catched a cold while it was summer. Everything can happen, I’m telling you."

⚕️ Recom Ja As the official medic, he takes care of getting you back to health and leaves the rest of your care to your other partners. Of course he’d want to 100% take care of you, but he knows that he’s not the only one in the relationship and that his other partners also want to take care of you. So Ja does the medical things and lets the others do the rest. He also knows that you’ll go crazy if you have another person hovering over you. And either way, the other recoms drag him from his other work every five minutes to tell him to do a check-up to see if you’re any better. “Guys, it’s only been ten minutes, she’s not suddenly better.” For his sanity, your sickness better not last long, since everyone keeps second guessing what he does and questioning if he’s sure that’s what you need. Eventually snaps, but understands that they mean well and are just worried for you.

🧢 Recom Brown The second he hears that you’re sick, he lets out the most unholy sound and ditches whatever he’s doing to look for you. He literally barges into your room, freaks out when you lie limp in your bed (you’re asleep, duh), lets out an even unholier sound and scrambles your brain while trying to wake you. He’s a dramatic bitch who thinks he’s dying when he’s sick, so obviously the same goes for you. Doesn’t know shit about what to do, so he does the most sensible thing he can think of. “JA!!, BABYGIRL IS DYING!!” Let’s Ja take care of you, but hovers around you and questions everything Ja does. Eventually Ja snaps and kicks him out because “I’m the goddamn medic, I didn’t study for years just to have you second guessing what I’m doing damnit!” So Brown just ends up sitting outside your room like a kicked puppy.

📿 Recom Lopez This man watches over you when you’re asleep like a watch hound. Runs errands for you, since you can't. He would kiss your forehead and write on a sticky note, just in case, you wake up and are confused as to where he is. "Hey Mami, I went to the store since ur sick. If you're thirsty, I made you some tea. Apparently, it’ll give you energy and it helps when you're sick. Ily, I'll be back soon <3" I can totally see him remember his childhood where if he was sick as a child, his latino grandma would give him a shot of tequila. “There boy, that’ll make you feel better.” So he spiked your tea with a shot of tequila. Ja found out and chased him around the base while yelling curses and trying to kill him. “I swear to god Lopez, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

⛓️ Recom Fike He’s very dedicated to his partners, so when you get sick? It’s not just your illness it’s both of yours illness. Literally tho, he’s so clingy and cuddly that he gets the flu from you. He gets you snacks even though you don’t ask for it, he just wants to help. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes he doesn't. He’s not the best care-taker of them all, but he’s a loving one. If you two end up being sick together, it gives you two (in your minds) the right to boss your other partners around. Quaritch contemplates chastising you because, even tho he loves you two so much, he’s still your CO. He makes you do triple the amount of pushups once y'all are recovered.

[we-are-inevitable]

btw in the restaurant au. if you even care. jack goes to culinary school because growing up, his dad always made incredible food, and he started puttering around the kitchen with him when he was like 5 years old. he always wanted to try better recipes and newer things, and his dad- though they didnt have much money- would always save up for good ingredients so jack could cook whatever his little heart desired. cooking was their time; i imagine his dad was a line cook or something, not at a fancy restaurant or anything but at a little diner, and cooking was Their thing. jack would spend all day with his mom, and as soon as his dad came home- no matter how tired he was of cooking, no matter how much he wanted to just go lay down- they would go to the kitchen and he would supervise jack as jack made dinner for everyone.

when jack’s mom gets sick, he’s 10 years old, and his dad has to cut back his time at the diner to take care of her, since jack is in school and can’t be there. this means they bring in less money, so they can’t really afford to pay for the fresh ingredients now; most of their meals at home are dollar store staples. hanburger helper, microwavable TV dinners, sandwiches- they genuinely don’t have the money to spend on fresh produce anymore, and even buying ground beef and chicken breasts is splurging that they can’t often afford.

they live on a shoestring budget until jack can get his first job at age 14. his mom beats cancer the first time, but they’re drowning in medical debt, so jack finds a job that will actually hire him despite not being 15 yet, and his first real job is working as a dishwasher at a restaurant down the street. he works nearly every day, and all of his money is given to his father, despite his father insisting that he doesn’t need a job, he shouldn’t have a job, he’s just a kid and his money should be going toward kid stuff and not paying his parent’s medical bills.

but jack refuses, so they keep it up. i think the only non-mom-related expenses jack has are food related,, sometimes he’ll stop in the little grocery store he would go to with his dad when they were younger and buy fresh vegetables and a little two pound roll of hamburger meat, just so they can at least have one meal that isn’t ready from a box. jack continues this until he’s fifteen, and by the time he turns 15, his mother’s cancer is back, even after only been beaten for a year, and it’s a lot worse.

jack drops out at 15, after having long conversations with his father, and though it breaks his father’s heart to see jack doing this, it’s unfortunately what needs to be done. jack drops out and gets another job on top of the dishwashing, and he ends up as a line cook at a fast food place. they’re able to pay the bills on jack’s paychecks, and get groceries with the little that jack’s dad makes from the days he’s able to work.

jack’s mom passes when he’s 16, leaving jack and his dad to cover both funeral and medical expenses. they’re drowning after that, both grieving in their own ways. jack’s father can barely get out of bed for weeks, but jack is back at work the day after his mother’s funeral because he knows they can’t risk falling behind on bills.

jack’s dad loved his mom so much. they were such a happy family before she got sick, which wasn’t her fault, none of this was ever her fault, but after she passes he’s completely out of commission. he can’t keep a job, he barely talks anymore, he drinks and drinks until jack can’t recognize him. it’s terrifying to watch, but jack gives him his time- he knows that eventually, his father is going to get back on his feet, and he’s going to be okay, and he’s going to go back to work and they’re going to get to relax and things will be fine again.

jack’s dad dies a few days after jack’s 18th birthday. they didn’t see it coming. the paramedics say it was a heart attack. jack likes to think of it as his mom needing his dad. it’s easier to stomach that way.

but that’s fine. everything is fine. jack, freshly 18, plans his second funeral and again, he’s back at work the day after putting his dad in the ground. he sells most of the furniture to have some extra cash. he finds a cheaper apartment in the bad part of town because he can’t afford a two bedroom when he’s just one kid. he has a bed, he has photos of his parents, and he has a kitchen. that’s all he needs.

the next few years pass with jack climbing the ranks in whatever restaurants he can get his hands on. he’s finally in a place where he can save for school, culinary school, and he has more restaurant experience under his belt by the time he’s 21 than most of his older coworkers do. he busts his ass and works so hard to put himself through school, and when he finally gets his certificate after everything, he can rest. he starts applying to different high end restaurants, and he works as a cook in a nice steakhouse for a while, but he doesn’t like his coworkers and knows he deserves more than being miserable.

when he hears about a new restaurant opening in the area, some “high end” burger joint called Pulitzer’s, he throws his hat in the ring with an application and is hired on as the lead chef at the age of 25.

he’s 26 when a new server named David Jacobs is hired, and things start looking up.