#<-answer (I ran out of room so I had to continue in a different tag)

[the-ugly-fetus]

okay y'all I have to admit something

I am a terrible CEO

I am the CEO of paintedcircle yet I rarely draw it

Obviously I'm the CEO so it's not that I don't like it I just don't have the motivation or energy to draw paintedcircle

However I will try to draw them more often considering if I want to be the CEO of a ship I need to draw ship art of said characters

So I'll try to draw them more from now on

Official paintedcircle CEO message

(also if you draw them don't be afraid to send it to me I love them as you can clearly tell from the fact that I have become the self-proclaimed official CEO)

[nekoashiii]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Not now!

Notes: masterlist \ Part 1

Summary: Your husband is calling you, but a little gremlin keeps declining it.

Tag: @teewritessmth @mitskunicheesecake @rcvcgers @vspxriddles @iloveh4nge

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Zayne

Zayne sat in the doctor’s lounge, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to the call ring. Once. Twice. Then—

Call Declined.

His brows furrowed slightly. His hands, steady enough to perform the most delicate heart surgeries, tightened around the phone. He tried again.

Ring. Ring.

Call Declined.

Zayne exhaled slowly through his nose, his grip relaxing, Maybe you were busy. You were probably playing with Elias or cooking dinner Mayne in the shower? He wasn’t the type to overthink, but something about the repeated declines made his stomach twist in a way he wasn’t happy about.

Still, he didn’t want to be a nuisance or cause you unnecessary troubles. He wasn’t the type to text “Call me” like other husbands either, He just sat there for a moment, staring at his phone, before getting up and heading back to work.

He had patients waiting.

Back home, Elias sat cross-legged on the couch, his tiny fingers curled around your phone. Every time it vibrated, his eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he pressed the red button.

“Papa’s calling,” you pointed out, watching from the kitchen as Elias, without a second thought, hung up again.

He didn’t say a word. Just held the phone like a little dragon hoarding treasure.

You wiped your hands on a towel and walked over, sitting beside him. “Sweetheart, why are you declining Papa’s calls?”

Elias finally looked up at you. His expression was unreadable—so much like Zayne’s that it almost made you laugh. After a moment, he mumbled, “He’s busy.”

You blinked. “That’s why you’re hanging up on him?”

A short nod.

Your heart softened. Elias was a quiet child, much like his father, and even at four years old, he had an odd way of thinking. He wasn’t upset. He wasn’t being stubborn. In his little mind, he just thought he was helping.

You smiled and ran a hand through his soft raven colored hair. “Baby, Papa wouldn’t call if he didn’t want to talk. He’s probably on a break and missing us.”

Elias frowned slightly, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He shifted on the couch, staring at the phone. “…Oh.”

You chuckled. “Should we call him back?”

Elias hesitated, then nodded.

Zayne was halfway through reviewing a patient’s chart when his phone vibrated.

Incoming Call: My Love

His fingers moved instinctively, answering before the first ring finished. “Hello?”

“Papa.”

Zayne blinked. It wasn’t you. It was Elias.

The little voice on the other end sounded almost… guilty?

“Elias.” Zayne glanced at the time. “You should be in bed soon.”

A pause. Then, in a quieter voice, “…I hung up your calls.”

Zayne froze. He hadn’t expected that. His first instinct was to ask why, but before he could, Elias continued.

“You were busy. I didn’t wanna bother you.”

Zayne’s grip on the phone tightened. He looked down at his hands, But right now, his own heart ached in a different way.

He wasn’t good with words. Never had been. But there was one thing he knew.

“Elias.” His voice was firm, steady. “You never bother me.”

Another pause.

Then, a quiet, “…Oh.”

Zayne exhaled. “Is Mama there?”

You took the phone, laughing softly. “Your son thought he was being considerate.”

Zayne pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course he did.” His voice was softer than usual. “Tell him he can always pick up my calls.”

“I think he understands now.” You turned to Elias, who was now curled against your side, looking deep in thought. “Say goodnight to Papa.”

Elias hesitated, then muttered, “Goodnight, Papa.”

Zayne swallowed. He wished he was home.

“Goodnight, Elias. I’ll see you in the morning.”

When Zayne finally stepped through the door that night, the house was quiet. You were already in bed, and Elias was asleep in his room.

Or so he thought.

As he passed Elias’ door, a tiny voice mumbled, “…father?”

Zayne stopped. Slowly, he pushed the door open.

Elias was sitting up in bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

Zayne hesitated. He wasn’t good at this. But he walked inside, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out with his small hands and grabbed onto Zayne’s sleeve. Not saying anything, just… holding on.

Zayne stared at him before sitting on the edge of his bed.

Then, without a word, he gently rested a hand on his son’s head.

It wasn’t much.

But for them, it was enough.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Xavier

Xavier stood in the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield, his sword still dripping as he exhaled. The fight had been over in minutes—another nest of Wanderers cleared out.

He wasn’t in a hurry to return to headquarters. Instead, he yawned and pulled out his phone, pressing your number.

Ring. Ring.

Call Declined.

Xavier stared at the screen, brow twitching slightly. That was odd. He tried again.

Call Declined.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He wasn’t a man prone to overreaction, but something about his own family declining his calls irritated him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Maybe you were busy. Maybe—

He teleported.

One second, he was in a ruined village surrounded by monster corpses. The next, he was in the living room of his own home.

The sight that greeted him made his left eye twitch.

Leo and Livia—his five-year-old twins—were sitting on the couch, your phone between them, giggling.

Livia saw him first. Her eyes widened, and she smacked Leo’s arm. “Abort mission! Papa’s here!”

Leo nearly dropped the phone. “Crap.”

Xavier didn’t speak for a moment. He simply stared, exhausted, disappointed, and vaguely impressed all at once. “…You two.”

The twins immediately shot to their feet, but it was too late. He was already in front of them, towering over their tiny forms. His sword was still strapped to his back, his hunter uniform stained with dried Wanderer blood.

They didn’t look scared. If anything, they looked ready to bolt.

“…Explain.” His voice was even, calm—but that made it worse.

The twins exchanged glances before Livia, ever the mastermind, said, “Mom said you were busy!”

Leo nodded rapidly. “Yeah! You were fighting monsters, right? We didn’t wanna bother you!”

Xavier sighed through his nose, rubbing his temples. “You declined my calls.”

Livia pouted. “Well… yeah.”

He inhaled deeply. He was not good at this. Discipline, affection—none of it came naturally to him. He could gut a monster in seconds, but parenting? That was an entirely different battlefield.

He crossed his arms, giving them a firm look. “That’s not happening again.”

Leo groaned. “But why? You never talk much anyway!”

Xavier blinked. He squatted down to their level, eyes narrowing. “You have a death wish, don’t you?”

Livia elbowed Leo. “Idiot. Now we’re really in trouble.”

Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted beyond belief. He should just pick them up and force them into a timeout—he had the strength for it. But before he could, Livia clapped her hands together.

“Leo, Plan B!”

Leo gasped. “Yes, Plan B!”

Xavier frowned. “What the—”

Before he could react, Livia sprinted left while Leo ran right.

Teleportation was an option, but honestly? He was too damn tired. He just sighed and walked toward the kitchen, knowing exactly where they’d end up.

And there you were, standing at the counter, watching the chaos unfold like it was a normal Tuesday.

Without looking at him, you asked, “I take it you figured out why your calls weren’t getting through?”

Xavier leaned against the counter, exhaling. “Your kids are demons.”

You raised a brow. “My kids?”

He gave you a tired look. “They didn’t get it from me.”

Before you could argue, the sound of a crash echoed from upstairs.

A beat of silence. Then Leo’s voice: “I’LL FIX IT, I PROMISE!”

Xavier closed his eyes, counting to ten.

An hour later, the twins sat on the couch, pouting as Xavier stood in front of them. He wasn’t a loud father. He didn’t yell. But his silent disappointment was somehow worse.

“You’re not getting out of this,” he finally said.

Livia crossed her arms. “It was for a good reason.”

“It was for a stupid reason.”

Leo kicked his legs. “But we didn’t wanna distract you.”

Xavier sighed, rubbing his face. “…You’re my kids. You can always talk to me.”

Livia blinked. “Even when you’re fighting monsters?”

He crouched down, staring at them. “Especially then.”

For the first time, the twins looked guilty.

Xavier softened just a fraction. He wasn’t great at showing affection to kids. He wasn’t the type to hug them randomly or constantly hold them. But he reached out, ruffling their hair roughly or cuddle up with his little demons.

“Next time you hang up on me, I’m making you run laps.”

Leo gasped. “That’s child labor!”

Livia clutched her chest. “You’re cruel, Father.”

Xavier stood, sighing. “You’ll live.”

That night, when the twins were asleep, Xavier sat beside you in bed, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know how to handle them.”

You smiled, playing with his hair. “You’re doing fine.”

He scoffed. “They don’t listen to me at all.”

You chuckled. “They do. They just like pushing your buttons.”

Xavier sighed, leaning into your touch. “…Next time they ignore my calls, I’m teleporting them into a cold lake.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Sure you are.”

Xavier didn’t respond. He just yawned, closed his eyes, and finally—finally—slept.

[ohhiimweird]

Lengths We Go For Love [Phainon]

Character: Phainon Reader's Gender: Neutral Additional Tags: Fluff, poetic, sleeping beauty based, Angsty ending, Phainon is the flame reaver here, definitely lore inaccurate

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

Your limbs were tangled with his when the Entry Hour greeted you both. The Deliverer had a rare moment of free time and decided to spend it with you in his arms. His head rested on your chest while you ran your fingers through his snowy white hair. He let out a heavy sigh like a dog would.

Phainon shifted to where he was practically on top of you. If he had the audacity and the lack of moral compass to hold you hostage, he would have a long time ago. You were sure of it. He might be the most clingy man you've ever met. It wasn't like you were complaining, not when you got to see sides of the Great Hero of Amphoerus no one else could.

"Honey?" Phainon asked. "Can you tell me one of your stories?" His morning voice was groggy but still laced with honey. If you thought he couldn't get sweeter, he continued to surprise you.

"Like the ones I tell the children?" you chuckled. "You live those kinds of epics every day."

"I know, but--" Phainon said.

"I tell those stories better than you ever could?" you leaned on your palm.

"See? You agree with me. Now come on."

Phainon batted his eyelashes at you while giving you the most agregious puppy-dog-eyes. You were already going to say yes. This was just an added touch.

"Alright," you smiled. You immediately thought of the perfect story. The children you taught love it, so you have it memorized at this point. "Once upon a time, there were two lovers. One was a lovely princess and the other was a commoner boy. They both knew that their love couldn't be, so the princess prayed to Mnestia, asking for a way to be with her true love and was given a tonic that would make her fall into eternal slumber. Then, she was given the antidote. The princess gave the antidote to her lover and told him to give it to her when her father declared her dead. The commoner agreed and the princess took the tonic and fell asleep that night. She stayed like this for several months before the king declared her as dead, as the princess predicted. The commoner boy broke into the princess's room and fed her the antidote through mouth-to-mouth. Finally reunited, the lovers confronted the king, saying that the Romance Titan blessed their love and that it was the commoner's kiss that broke the spell. The king was not willing to argue with a Titan and allowed the princess to marry the commoner boy, unaware that it was according to his clever daughter's plan."

Phainon listened intently to the story, despite hearing this one at least five times. He looked at you like you were wiser than Lady Tribbie.

"That one is more light hearted than your other stories," he commented.

"My mother loved tragedies. I didn't understand why when I was little," you said. "But now I think it's because we can't have a happy ending without sadness."

"I would drive away all of that suffering for you," Phainon said. "You deserve nothing but happiness."

"You've said that phrase a million different ways."

"Do you not believe me?" Phainon asked, his brows furrowed in worry.

"No, it's not that," you answered. "But you do realize that you're saying all of this to a simple teacher, right?"

"You're doubting yourself again, love."

"I'm not."

"You are, and I won't stand for it. You're the most beautiful and selfless person I've ever met. I'd rather die than call anyone else the love of my life."

"Okay, I get it," you said.

"I don't think you do." Phainon had that mischievous look his eyes. His hands went down to your sides and started tickling.

You squirmed under his touch, laughing while trying in vain to kick him away. "Hey, quit it!" you squealed.

"Not until you admit you're good enough," Phainon said in a sing-song tone.

You pulled yourself away from him, only for Phainon to pin you back to the bed. Even while teasing you, his touch was gentle.

"Alright, I yield," you breathed. "I'm good enough."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Phainon laid next to you. He gazed into your eyes with such a serious look as if he wasn't tickling you earlier. "No matter what happens, I'd find a way for us to be together. I love you."

"I love you too," you gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He returned the kiss with yearning and even a bit of desperation behind it.

___________________

The Flame Reaver knelt next to your sleeping body. Getting something to put you to sleep for so long was the most difficult thing he's ever done. But, it was well worth it.

You must've thought his words that day were an exaggeration. But, the Flame Reaver was serious. He would do anything if it meant you could be together when the new dawn rushes in. Until then, he would do whatever it took to keep you safe.

The antidote was somewhere. The Flame Reaver didn't know where he put it, but he knows that he has it. That's all that matters.

Perhaps he was inspired by that story about the princess and her commoner lover you told. The lengths they both went for love stuck to him every time he heard it. This is no fairytale world, yet the Flame Reaver relied on one to save you. How ironic.

The skies in Okhema were turning red. The cycle would reset once again and the Flame Reaver would get another chance to save you. He just hoped he would do it right.

[fear-is-truth]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 — 𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬𝑹 𝑹𝑬𝑰𝑫.

kinktober day 6 — period sex | tags ; nsfw. mdni. 18+ . f!reader. vāginal fingering. menstrual blood. smut

you lay curled up in bed, the yellow glow from your bedside lamp the only source of light in the room. a book rested in your hands, but you could barely focus on the words. the dull, throbbing ache in your abdomen made it nearly impossible to concentrate. your period had arrived with a vengeance this time, the cramps more persistent than usual. every so often, you’d shift positions, trying in vain to find some relief, but nothing seemed to help.

just as another wave of pain hit, the bedroom door creaked open, and your boyfriend walked in, carrying his own stack of books from the living room. noticing the slight grimace on your face, he set his books on the dresser before crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

“hey,” he murmured, “how are you feeling?”

“i’m okay, just… cramps. i’ll be fine.”

“have you taken anything for the pain?”

“yeah, but it’s not really doing much,” you admitted, closing your book and placing it on the nightstand.

“i’m just trying to distract myself.”

he let out a sympathetic sigh, eyes soft with concern as he watched you wince from another cramp. without a word, he slipped his hand beneath the duvet, fingers gently brushing against your lower abdomen. you’d tried this on yourself plenty of times—massaging the ache away—but it never did much to help. however, the moment spencer’s warm palm touched you, it was different. a pleasant shiver ran through you, and before you could stop it, a quiet moan escaped your lips.

spencer, being well…spencer, immediately picked up on the change. his head tilted slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he continued to rub slow, soothing circles over your skin. but this time, his thumb dipped lower, brushing lightly just above the waistband of your sweats. you stiffened, the ache in your belly momentarily forgotten as a different kind of heat spread through your body.

he felt the way your thighs instinctively pressed together beneath the blanket, and his eyes sharpened with interest, a shift in his posture as he watched you. “does that help?” he asked, brown bambi eyes unblinking, though there was a slight edge to his tone.

you swallowed, struggling to steady your breathing. “i—i think so,” you whispered, but even you weren’t convinced by the tremble in your own voice. it wasn’t just the relief from the cramps anymore. he was silent for a beat, fingers lightly trailing across your arm. pensive, as if recalling something from the endless archive of information in his mind. then, in a matter-of-fact tone, he said,

“you know, intercourse can actually help with menstrual cramps.”

your brain stalled for a second. “w-what?” you spluttered, face flushing with heat, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. spencer cleared his throat, completely unbothered by the topic. “intercourse releases endorphins and oxytocin, which can act as natural painkillers. it also helps relax uterine muscles, which would ease the cramping. studies have shown—”

“okay spence, i get it.”

“do you want me to make love to you?”

your entire body tensed, heat flooding your face as you stared up at him, wide-eyed. it wasn’t the question itself that flustered you—but the fact that the answer was secretly, undeniably, yes. you felt deprived, body aching not just from the cramps but from wanting something more. but at the same time, embarrassment washed over you, making it impossible to respond. you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. instead, a strangled noise left your throat, and you quickly tore your gaze away, burying your face in the pillow.

but spencer knew you better than anyone, and as he studied you, understanding slowly dawned on his face. his hand stilled for a before sliding up to your cheek, tilting your head gently so you could meet his gaze again.

“you don’t just want me to make love to you,” his thumb grazing your bottom lip, “you want me to fuck you.”

you couldn’t hide the way your body reacted—the flush of heat, the way your thighs instinctively pressed together again.

“yes.”

the moment the word left your lips, he surged forward, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss that stole your breath away. his tongue shoved between your teeth and into your mouth, his hands cupping your face. groaning, you kissed him back just as desperately, fingers tangling in his hair. fingernails dug into the nape of his neck but he didn’t seem to notice nor care. without breaking the kiss, spencer’s arms slid under you, lifting you off the bed. your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands gripped your hips, holding you tightly against him. when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, eyes half-lidded as you blinked in confusion. you hadn’t even realised he’d moved you until you glanced around and saw the bathroom tiles beneath your feet. his chest heaved slightly, dark eyes locked on yours as he set you down.

made sense. it’d be less of a hassle to clean up. jesus christ, you were really going to do this. you were going to let spence fuck you while you were on your bloody period.

he reached over and turned the water in the shower on and then started unbuttoning his shirt. “take off your clothes and get in,” he instructed. his tobey had gotten more authoritative, and it sent a pleasant shiver through you.

you stripped quickly, allowing your sweatpants and panties to fall onto the floor without sparing a glance, telling yourself to be grateful that you were using a pad instead of a tampon today. just before you could step into the shower, spencer wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, tugging you back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head

“wait, hold on.”

“what?”

his hands wandered up to your chest, squeezing your breasts absently, but it was his words that sent a shock through you.

“do you want just my fingers… or my cock?”

your knees felt weak at his words.

when you didn’t respond immediately, spencer leaned over and dragged his tongue across the cartilage of your ear while his fingers pinched your hard nipples, sending another vicious jolt of pleasure through you. he sucked on your earlobe, drawing a moan from your lips. his voice was husky now as he repeated the question, carefully enunciating each word as if talking to a petulant child,

“let’s try again. do you wish me to finger-fuck you or do you want my cock inside you?”

condom, the word clanging noisily into your lust-induced stupor. that was why he was asking. you were aching with desire more than cramps by now, so you craned your neck to look him square in the eyes.

“both. i want both.”

the smirk he gave you was almost predatory, his eyes dark with intent. without a word, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, a contrast to the heat building between you. then, he started to undress while you slipped into the shower, the hot water hitting your skin in a rush. you hurried, rinsing yourself off quickly, suddenly aware of every inch of your body as self-consciousness crept in. your hands moved faster, wanting to clean yourself before he joined you. but before you could finish, the shower curtain rattled, and spencer was there, stepping in behind you.

he spun you around, crowding you against the cold tile wall. long fingers slid in between your legs and rubbed experimentally at your heat, but you shook your head.

“do it, now. i don’t, ahhh–” spencer shoved two fingers inside you unceremoniously, hitting right where you’d been aching. normally, you enjoyed the foreplay aspect of sex, but right now you didn’t want tenderness. you wanted to be ravaged by him. truly fucked by him.

his thumb pressed against your clit and you arched your hips, urging his fingers deeper and to start moving. spencer took the hint, following the pace you started. long fingers scissored inside you, slowly curling against your front wall with practised precision. you were a whimpering mess, hands gripping his forearms for balance. your orgasm hit you in what felt like a few seconds.

it took about a minute for you to come down from your high, pretending not to notice that spencer was rinsing blood off his fingers. it didn’t seem to bother him, though, because he bent down and kissed you roughly, before hoisting you up by the thighs and settling you between the wall and his hips. pausing for a moment to let you wrap your legs around his waist. he positioned himself at your entrance, so that the tip of his cock was spreading your lips open. your head fell back and gently thudded against the wall—your cunt was already fluttering in anticipation, too far gone to care what was coming out of your mouth. frenzied with lust, you practically snarled,

“fuck me, spence. fuck me hard.”

he sank his cock into your awaiting warmth without hesitation. your eyes widened and a little “ooh-” escaped as you relished the delicious sensation of him filling you. the blood acted as lubricant, allowing him to slide in easily and the burning stretch alongside the cramps melted into pleasure.

“o-oh god, yes.”

spencer understood the assignment. he was methodical—slamming his cock into your pussy with calculated, deep strokes. the continuous plap plap plap of smacking flesh could be heard over the running water as he continually rammed his hips into yours, practically fucking you into the wall. eyes rolling to the back of your head, your cunt started to clench around him as he replaced the ache with pleasure. your arms and legs tightened around him as you felt the hot coil in your belly tighten.

a small voice in the back of your head warned of the potential dangers—a slip, a fall, and a shameful trip to the hospital with a mild concussion. however, any lingering inhibitions dissipated when spencer angled his thrusts in just the right way, hitting the right spot that made you see stars.

the orgasm peaked but did not fade entirely as spencer kept up his tempo, and in mere seconds, you were nearing another climax. he gripped tightly to your ass with one hand so that he could slide the other between you. long fingers found your swollen clit and immediately started to rub viciously, and soon, the third orgasm exploded through your body. you threw back your head and mewled, the white-hot pleasure almost too much to endure before it gradually dissolved into slow waves of ecstasy.

the tempo of his thrusts had become sloppier, and you could feel the slight tremour in his muscles. you sucked hard at his adam’s apple, teeth scraping against his skin. spencer groaned in your ear and buried himself deeply into you a few more times until you felt him come inside of you.

“feel better?” he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“much better.”

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[aliorsboxostuff]

I went insane on this self indulgent run in trying to get back into writing so here, a House x Wilson and Male!Reader son fic cuz i see House as a.... complicated figure in my life 💀

Menace

Tags: Greg House/James Wilson, Son!Reader, A/B/O Dynamic, Alpha!House, Alpha!Wilson, Alpha!Reader, Younger Reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, Lisa Cuddy, Fluff, Crack, No Smut, for shits and giggles, idk abt hospital rules whoops, inaccurate medical terms, medical malpractice, malpractice MD, Established Relationship, Between S1-S3

All those 'Wilson has a Wife at home!' thing was all an innuendo. They're married. and they have.... a son? Come read as the ducklings find out how much of their boss's life they missed!

It was early in the morning. 

Foreman had just entered the office while Chase was eating a bagel. Cameron was making her morning tea and the three were catching up over the weekend. They saw Dr. Wilson passing by and they waved at him, the man nodded and smiled shortly before he continued to his office. Chase says something about last week's case which Foreman laughs at, Cameron rolls her eyes before she takes a seat at the filing desk. 

“We’re only starting the day and you're already filing down House’s stuff?” Chase tilts his head with a smirk, the brunette sighs while her hands are busy with a group of blue files. 

“It’s not like he ever does it himself,” She answers as she sits. “Might as well chip around it,”

The computer boots up slowly when Foreman approaches the mountain of files. He picks one up and flips it open, his face scrunches in confusion. “This was… 2 months ago?”

Foreman levels his colleague with a stare at which Cameron only sighs. He deems it a suitable answer so he drops the file, busying himself with Chase instead. 

Half an hour into meddling about, waiting for their boss to arrive, a sharp knock breaks the team's attention from each other's conversation. 

Standing outside their meeting room is someone they're unfamiliar with. Not someone new to their department judging by their leisurely clothes, it went straight to someone fresh out of high school. However, what caught them off-guard was the jacket the man was wearing. It was House’s jacket.

They have a tall stature, though with how they’re slightly bowing his head, he levels just at Foreman's height. Something about his eyes resembles too much of a doctor they know, sending a shiver down Chase’s spine.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, is this Dr. House’s office?” He asks, a small unsure smile on his lips. Foreman cocks a brow while Cameron and Chase shared a look. 

The boy blinks, holding a file folder in his hand. “I was just told to bring this to his office,”

He shakes the file slightly, his friendly smile unwavering. Cameron was the first to blink and immediately shuffled to handle the folder. When she approaches the boy, he stands straight once his anxiety ebbs out, and something oddly familiar suddenly flashes through her. The boy's scent has the burnt woody undertone House has. Her brain quickly connected it with House’s jacket he was currently supporting yet it was too strong and just different enough to not be another Alpha’s scent that stuck to the boy. Cameron subtly breathes to confirm it's the boy's scent. She stutters through her words, “I-i’ll get this through to him, he uh- he hasn't arrived yet,”

“Oh I know,“ He waves a hand. “I'm only here for a visit but I ran into Dr. Cuddy and she handed me this, she said she’s too busy to bother him herself,” 

The boy laughs, a slight crinkle on the bridge of his nose. Cameron had to choke back a gasp, suddenly digging blunt nails into the case folder. The whole room was silent aside from the melodic laugh. The laughter dies down eventually as the boy gathers himself. 

“Well that's my only reason to be here, I should get going,” he nods politely and bids them a short goodbye before leaving the room. 

Another beat of silence. 

Chase perks up. “I wasn't the only one that thought that was odd… right?”

“Why was he so…” 

“Tall? Yeah, I got that too,” Foreman continued Cameron's question. 

“Yes that but, who- did you guys hear what he said? When I said House wasn't here yet he said ‘Oh I know’,” Cameron drops the file on their meeting table. “How does he know?”

“Better question; was that House’s jacket?” Chase points an accusatory finger in the direction the boy went. 

“Hooker?” Foreman tries, immediately shut down by Cameron.

“House hasn't gone into rut yet,” She reasons, standing her ground. 

“Hey Alphas don't need a nice dicking down when they’re just on ruts y’know,” Chase crosses his arms. “Foreman's right, he could've been someone he slept with,”

“But that kid is way too young!” 

“We can't assume our boss’ type, Cameron,” Foreman smirks. “He might like someone years younger than him!”

“Seriously? Chase’s the one that kissed a child,” Chase immediately gasps, hands flying up at what his colleague said.

“It was one time! And she was dying for god’s sake!”

The two laughs, while Chase rolls his eyes before huffing. “None of this still doesn't explain who that guy was,”

“And he smells… almost like House too,” Foreman blinks at his confusion. The three doctors continuously stared at each other, sharing glances as if it would yield an answer to their questions. Cameron looks back to the door, then to the case file, before deciding to open it. She reads the case and Cuddy was right, it’s interesting enough that House would find interest in it but…

“He mentioned Cuddy, didn't he?” Cameron immediately announces. The two men pauses, before the realization hits them. They were about to exit the office when suddenly House stood between them and the door, motorcycle helmet in hand, donned in his usual leather jacket.

He stares at his team, all supporting various degrees of surprise and confusion before he rolls his eyes. “I’ve only arrived and you’re already going out to run tests?”

His team is still dead silent. House huffs before barging past them and dropping his bag atop the piles of folders. 

“Gimme here,” House reaches out for the file Cameron is still clutching. “Cuddy says this one will blow my cane off,” His voice heightens in pitch, mimicking Cuddy herself. 

Cameron reluctantly gives the file to her boss, the Beta watching for signs of anything from House. As the Alpha starts reading the file, his team slowly files into their normal seating. The room’s tension was apparent, especially annoying to House as he practically felt it with his sense of smell. He looks up from the file, fixing the group with a glowering stare. “Did you all see a ghost or did I miss the memo of being mute for the day?”

“We uh-” Cameron starts “It's just… Someone came by, he was the one that gave us the file…” 

“Huh,” He pauses before raising a brow. “I must be losing my annoying Cuddy streak, she didn't even come by to give it herself,” 

House shrugs and drops the file onto the table with a slap! “But she was right, this is an interesting case…” He turns to his board, his cane thuds dully. “Differential diagnosis, go.”

—

The next time the group spotted the mysterious boy, he was leaving Dr. Wilson's office in the middle of the day.

They had just finished going out for lunch, walking together when they saw the door to the Oncologist's office open to reveal the boy they had seen earlier. A wide smile on his face and an equally glowing smile from Wilson was what shocked the group. They know Wilson as a very patient and empathetic man, but to see him smile so carefree it almost scared the three.

Foreman was reluctant but Chase pulled at his coat first which led them into hiding behind a corner, ears pressed to hear what Dr. Wilson and the boy were conversing about.

“You should’ve seen their faces,” The boy laughs, House’s jacket draped over his arm. 

“They’ve never seen you come by before, I'm sure they were pleasantly confused,” Wilson replies, a coy smile on his lips as he pats the boy’s shoulder. 

“Maybe I should visit you two more often,” His tone was light, his head tilting at the request. They hear Wilson repress a laughter before it chokes out as a short chuckle. 

“If you’re not too busy, we won't mind seeing you here,” Wilson nods. “Just anywhere but the ER, got it?” 

At that, the boy sighs though it seems to be out of fondness if the softness of the man's next word could be an indication for the three; “I won't, I promise,” 

“Then we’ll see you at home,” 

“Awh but I'm bored! I don't wanna go home yet!” The two laugh.

They immediately plaster themselves to the wall, Chase’s eyes wide while Cameron’s eyes shoot in different directions as if connecting invisible strings. Foreman sighs, wiping a hand across his face, before concluding. “A polycule?”

“A- What?”  Chase balks. “You think Wilson and House and that guy…?”

“It makes sense, right? They share living spaces,”

“Wilson keeps saying ‘we’ I think he does mean it’s him and House.” 

Chase and Cameron cross arms simultaneously. “I can see House and Wilson being together.” the brunette concludes.

Chase blinks before he turns to the girl. “Sure but House only has eyes, and love for Wilson, what makes you think that–” 

Suddenly, all three of their pagers beep and god for once they wished their patient stayed stable. They quickly made their way to the room, passing by Wilson and the boy, the two sparing a glance at the hurried steps of the three before they turned back towards each other. 

—

“Is House and Wilson in a polyamorous relationship?” 

Cuddy blinks, closing the patient file slowly and placing it atop her desk. Her eyes glance up to meet Camerons. She manages a tired glare that only works on anyone but House, though it seems he’s been teaching his ducklings bad habits because Cameron only stood and crossed her arms, which makes the dean of medicine raise a brow. 

“What makes you think I’d know that information, Dr. Cameron?”

She shrugs. “You’re closest to them. They tell you first before us, and aren't you always on top of coworkers dating each other and all-”

“Yes, but that's in case it’ll affect the efficiency of our work. House and Wilson-”

“Are an exception?” Cameron’s eyes widen inquisitively. Cuddy promptly rolls her eyes. 

“No. House and Wilson would be the last person to inform me of their relationship,”

“And why aren't you asking them anyway? I wouldn't want to butt into whatever those two alphas are doing,” Cuddy shakes her head, placing her attention back into her files before Cameron sighs.

“Because we saw a kid earlier this morning. Not a staff, not a student. We don't even know who he is but he was wearing House’s jacket and talking with Wilson.” 

“So? Someone could be House’s hooker and Wilson’s patient-” 

“He said he knew you. You gave him a patient file for House because you were too preoccupied to give him yourself!” 

Cameron shot her arms up, exasperated, while the woman sitting in front of her deadpans. Suddenly, Cuddy’s brows furrow, before she belts out a laugh, tapping the hilt of her pen to her desk. The ímmunologist blinks, her arms hovering lamely, confused and slightly scared by what Cuddy is about to say.

Cuddy steadies herself, before easily replying. “Oh him. Yeah that's House and Wilsons’s son.”

“... What?” Cuddy will have to check the cameras later because the shocked face Cameron supported before running out of her office was priceless.

—

House and Wilson were in the diagnostician's office. The boy was leaning on the wall between them, the two doctors sat face to face, divided by House’s desk. They were enjoying a cup of coffee, House had his patient's MRI results in his hands and went over it with Wilson, seeing as his ducklings were off doing tests. 

House figured it would be another hour before they bothered him again when his expectations plummeted by the three bursting into his office. 

“You have a son?!” Chase shouts.

“He’s your son?!” Cameron pointed at the surprised boy. 

“You two are together?!” Foreman motions between House and Wilson.

House groans loudly. Wilson looks to the side. The boy takes a slow sip from his cup. 

The diagnostician drops the MRI scans, promptly putting his legs down from the desk, annoyance evident in his frown. “Yes, yes and yes– I thought I sent you three to do blood tests,” He extends a hand. “I’m assuming it’s done so now give it,” 

“The results will be done in another hour. You never bothered to tell us?” 

“You all never bothered to ask,” House replies easily. He grabs his cane and stands, making his way to stand between Wilson and the lanky boy. House’s son.

“For a group of diagnosticians you three are really bad at picking up very obvious hints,” He sighs. “Especially you, Chase. You’ve worked with me for years now! I'm very disappointed in you young man.” 

“Wha- How should I know? You and Wilson were always this weird… Thing,” His hand flairs to gesture to the two doctors. “And you never brought the kid around!” 

“That's because he was in high school,” Wilson shrugs. “A lot of after-school programs,”

He replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. The three doctors are still standing dumbfounded. House supports a smirk before he brings the boy to stand beside him, an arm around his shoulders. 

“Everyone, meet me and Wilson's adopted son.” The kid laughs slightly, waving at the group. “Oh and yes, me and Wilson are together, in case you all didn't get that,” 

“You two are married?!” “Oh yes, til death do us part and all, the whole gimmick,” 

Wilson sighs. “Gimmick it may be, you still cried that day,” 

“And you’re going to blackmail me, Wilson? Oh you wound me, pookie,” House pouts at the Oncologist at which he raises a brow. 

“Wait wait-” Foreman shakes his head. “You never wore a ring and- Only Wilson does!”

“Im allergic to gold,” House sneezes when the said ring Wilson’s supporting glints. “It also doesn't match my edgy, cool doctor outfit,” 

The boy beside him laughs, shaking his head. “You’re lame, Dad. Lame, not cool,” 

“My own family is against me!” Wilson chuckles at House’s reply, which also makes his son laugh louder. A beat of warm laughter before Cameron pushes another question.

“Is- is this true?” He gestures towards the boy. He smiles, patting House’s hand that's still resting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Yes. I am Dr. House’s and Dr. Wilson’s son. A couple of months after they got married, they adopted me. I’m pretty sure I was in middle school when they took me in,” He smiles, glancing between his parents. “I’ve been with them ever since.”

“It’s semester break right now, so rather than spending my time at home, i’d rather bother my dad’s here at work. I won't bother you all!” 

The boy flashes a false smile suddenly. “No promises though.”

Cameron sighs. “Oh god there's two of you…”

House met his son's eyes. Something glints between them, before the two Alphas turn to the group sharply. House levels them with a smug stare while his son grins, all sharp teeth and menace, the two oozing dangerous dominant pheromones. Cameron and Chase locks up, Foreman only sighs at the two’s display. Wilson, still sat with his warm mug in hand, only sighs and rolls his eyes. If his husband and son is going to scare the shit out of the diagnostic department, he might as well enjoy the spectacle. It’s not like his son would stay here for long, he’ll get bored eventually and spend his break elsewhere, right? 

What happens in the next couple of weeks into his son's break would prove him wrong.

reblogs save lives. Requests opened!

[xoluvx]

Hiiii i love your blog so much but i was wondering if you could do something where reader and billie’s tape gets leaked?? Like how would they react and stuff 😭 It could be the billie bossa nova pt 2 if u want <3

oooooh my god. you are in my brain anon because i was seriously thinking of this concept 😭😭 ily thank uuuu we share a brain. i have a different idea for bbn pt 2 (*if* it comes to fruition)

it was everywhere. everywhere and no where. how did it get out? what was happening?

“fuck fuck fuck,” her voice was loud as she ran down the hall. you held the phone in your limp hand. if it hadn’t fallen on the couch, your screen would’ve shattered.

“what the fuck?” she appeared, frazzled, in front of you. you were silent, but on the inside you were screaming. you were processing, or at least trying.

billie bit her thumb nail nervously pacing back and forth. she had her phone in a tight grip, the video was circulating everywhere. her phone was blowing up with notifications, messages, phone calls, tags, mentions.

“billie what the fuck?” finneas’ voice roared on speaker. he was the first person she answered a call from since it happened Ll but ten minutes ago. she looked at you holding her forehead. you were rubbing your thighs nervously.

“you didn’t watch it right?” were her first words. finneas replied with a gross, but claudia had seen enough to confirm it was the two of you.

the thumbnail wasn’t too incriminating. it was only when the video played that could tell within the first few seconds who it was. her voice urging you to cum. the phone sloppily recording as she rammed into you. the tattoos confirmed it. the way you whined billie’s name confirmed it.

she was fast. skin slapping and breathing heavy. she loved to talk dirty. her voice urging you to cum on her cock. telling you how pretty your ass looked bouncing against her body. complimenting how well you were taking her. her voice was low and raspy, spiting each word through gritted teeth.

the camera shook and the phone fell as she grabbed both your arms holding you down as she slammed into you. pulling you back on her cock. the bed creaking, the screen facing the ceiling. your moans growing louder when the phone fell near your face.

then when you thought it was finally over, she pressed her body down on yours. your back arched, cock deep. she came down to press her cheek on yours, grabbing the phone. she held angled it at your faces. hot and flushed. yours all fucked out, hers all cocky and proud. she smiled as you both breathed heavy then she turned to kiss your cheek her hair covering most of your faces.

then she got up, still buried in you and filmed down your body, fingers following the curves of your back until she was gripping your ass, cock sliding out of your throbbing pussy. whimpers filled the room. then the video cut.

and now you were sitting here processing how it got out.

“i’ll call you back, answer” his voice was stern and billie nodded hanging up. she stared at her phone flooded.

“come here,” you finally spoke, voice weak as you pat the spot next to you on the couch. she nuzzled next to you wrapping her arms around your body allowing you to fall into her as she leaned on the side of the couch.

“i’m so sorry,” she whispered against your head. “so so fucking sorry” she continued before kissing the top of your head. she could handle the fame, barely. the comments, the mean things, but all she wanted was the protect you. that’s the one thing she’d promised herself when you got together and now-

“we’re in this together,” you replied turning to look at her. you melted in her gaze, her eyes glistening. nose red. your own eyes watering, but your lips curling and then you were both laughing softly leaning into each other until your lips brushed.

she held your hand to her chest as you continued kissing.

part of you wanting to recreate the video right now another part knowing it was probably best you stopped recording videos for a while.

“we need a better system,” she teased against your lips. you whimpered turning your body completely so you were straddling her waste.

“yes, we do.” You moaned digging your fingers into her hair pulling softly eliciting a moan from her part. she held your ass moving your hips begging you to grind on her body.

it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

[aventurineswife]

Not sure if your requests are open or not (pls lmk if not)

I was wondering if I could get a ,,continuation" of this post? Same request but different characters. For this I would like to request Sunday, Ratio and Gallagher :3

Fragments of Light, Shadows of Loss

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Gallagher x Reader, Teen!Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship, Found Family, Emotional Healing, Introspection, Slow Burn Friendship, Vulnerability, Emotional Support.

Warnings: Mentions of Parental Loss (Reader’s backstory), Themes of Grief and Trauma, Emotional Struggles and Inner Conflict, Mild Melancholy and Existential Reflections.

[Part 1]

The quiet hum of the Astral Express was the only sound that filled the room. Sunday sat at the window, his eyes gazing out at the endless cosmos, a distant and contemplative look on his face. He had long since learned that the stars, despite their dazzling beauty, were as unreachable as the answers to his own questions.

A soft knock on the door broke his reverie. Without turning, he spoke in his usual gentle tone, "Come in."

You entered, the weight of the universe pressing on your shoulders. Sunday had noticed the hollow look in your eyes—a sadness that echoed his own, though perhaps not for the same reasons. He had learned of your past, the pain of losing your parents so young, and in that moment, something within him had stirred. He had seen that look before, reflected in the quiet sorrow of his own heart. But where you carried your grief like a shadow, he had buried his under layers of compassion, self-doubt, and unresolved guilt.

"You've been quiet lately," Sunday said softly, the words flowing from him as naturally as his breath. "I know the silence of loss. It can be suffocating."

You stood by the door, unsure of what to say. The vast emptiness between you seemed impenetrable, yet Sunday’s presence offered a strange sense of solace. He had an uncanny way of making you feel less alone, even when words failed.

His wings fluttered ever so slightly, betraying the underlying emotion he seldom let others see. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with an understanding that transcended words. "I often wonder if the pain of losing someone ever truly goes away. Perhaps it changes, becomes something else… something quieter. But it’s always there."

You hesitated, then nodded, unsure of how to share the grief you had carried for so long. But Sunday, as if sensing your hesitation, gestured to the seat beside him. "You don’t have to speak, if you’re not ready. But, if you wish, I can offer you what little comfort I can."

You sat beside him, and for a moment, the two of you simply stared out at the stars. There was a strange peace in the shared silence—a mutual understanding of what it was like to walk the tightrope between pain and healing.

“I’ve spent so much of my life trying to shield others from pain,” Sunday mused quietly, “but in doing so, I’ve often ignored my own. I think it’s because I believed that if I could just make others happy… I could somehow make up for everything I failed to do.”

His voice faltered, and for the first time in a long while, Sunday allowed himself to be vulnerable, showing you the cracks that ran deep within him. “But happiness… true happiness, isn’t something you can impose. It's something that has to be earned, through both joy and sorrow."

You didn’t speak, but the warmth of his presence was enough. It was enough to remind you that even in the vast expanse of space, there were others who shared the weight of the universe with you.

The hours passed, and the two of you sat in quiet companionship, two souls adrift in the same galaxy of sorrow, both learning to navigate the fragile thread that connected them—one built not on words, but on shared experience and unspoken understanding.

Sunday's golden halo flickered softly above his head, an unspoken promise. "We walk this path together, even if we must face the darkness alone."

The dim glow of the study lamp cast long shadows across the room, where Ratio sat hunched over a pile of books. The sound of his wavy hair brushing against the side of his face as he turned the pages was the only movement in the room. He had long since grown accustomed to the solitude of his work, the quiet hum of his intellect the only comfort in a world that too often failed to meet his standards.

You stood in the doorway, hesitant to interrupt the professor, but you had nowhere else to go. The world outside had always felt like a blur of chaos, but in Ratio's presence, there was an unspoken clarity, even if he wasn't fully aware of it.

He looked up from his work, his eyes meeting yours with the precision of someone who saw the world as a complex puzzle. "You're here," he remarked, his tone more of an observation than a greeting. "I assume you seek something, though I cannot imagine what a person like you would find in a place like this."

You shuffled your feet, not quite knowing how to express the aching emptiness in your heart. You had lost your parents at a young age, and that sorrow had led you down a path that had felt increasingly isolated. Ratio, despite his brilliance and aloof demeanor, was someone who might understand. After all, he too lived with a sense of loneliness borne from his relentless pursuit of knowledge.

"I don't know what I'm looking for," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just… don’t know where to go anymore."

For a moment, there was silence. Ratio didn’t offer the usual dismissive comments that so many others would. Instead, he studied you, as if piecing together the fragments of your existence. Finally, he pushed the books aside and motioned for you to sit.

"You seek understanding, yes?" he asked, his voice now more measured. "I understand. The search for meaning can be a solitary one. But there is no shame in it. It is, after all, the very core of our existence."

You sat across from him, feeling a flicker of something you hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. Perhaps, in this sea of knowledge and intellect, there was a place for you to understand not just the world, but yourself.

"Everyone seeks purpose," Ratio continued, "but most are too blind to see it in the most simple of things. I know that you're lost in your own grief, and I, too, have known what it is to lose something precious." His gaze softened, a brief flicker of vulnerability crossing his normally stoic features. "But knowledge… knowledge has a way of illuminating the path, even when the darkness seems endless."

You weren’t sure what to say to that, but something in his words settled deep inside you. In his own way, Ratio had offered you a piece of understanding—perhaps not the full answer, but a direction.

He leaned back in his chair, as if the weight of the moment had passed. "We all carry burdens, you know. Yours might feel heavier, but it is not unique. We all struggle to find meaning in a world that often feels senseless. But in the pursuit of knowledge, we find that meaning—together."

The silence between you was no longer heavy, but comforting. You might not have had the answers, but with Ratio's guidance, you had a place to begin.

Gallagher’s bar was quiet, as always. The soft clink of glass echoed in the dimly lit space, the only sound punctuating the otherwise still air. He was hunched over the counter, carefully crafting the drink he had perfected in solitude—the Sweet Dream Special. The flask in his hand felt like a lifeline, something to hold onto in a world that had long since stopped making sense.

You stood in the doorway, watching him. You had wandered the halls of the Bloodhound Family’s compound for hours, lost in thought and buried beneath the weight of your own grief. Losing your parents so young had left scars that no one seemed to understand—not even the kindhearted people around you.

Gallagher, however, was different. You had noticed him many times in passing, always silent, always watching, but never judging. He seemed like a man who understood loss, even if he never spoke of it.

He didn’t turn as you entered, focused on his task, but you could feel his awareness—his quiet vigilance, as though nothing had escaped him. Finally, he spoke, his gravelly voice betraying nothing but professionalism. "I thought you might be looking for me."

You took a few hesitant steps forward, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing against you. "I don’t know where else to go," you said quietly, your voice cracking under the weight of the years you’d carried your pain alone.

Gallagher placed the glass down, finally turning to face you. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, there was no distance between you. "You're not the first to seek comfort in this place," he said, his tone softening just slightly. "But it's not the drink that brings solace, is it?"

You shook your head, unable to find the words. The emptiness in your chest felt too large for any words to fill, but Gallagher seemed to understand. Without saying another word, he poured a drink for you, the familiar motions grounding you in the moment. He didn’t need to say anything; his silent gesture was enough.

As you both sat in the dimly lit room, the weight of your shared silences felt like a quiet camaraderie. Gallagher didn’t offer advice, didn’t promise healing. But in his presence, you didn’t need that. You simply needed the company of someone who understood the quiet grief that hung heavy in the air, just like you did.

"Sometimes," Gallagher said after a long pause, "all we can do is carry on. Not for anyone else, but for ourselves."

And in that moment, you knew you weren’t alone.

[nicohischierz]

reunion for the books: john marino

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

“johnny, i can’t just stay with you,” you reiterated

your boyfriend grumbled on the phone and pouted. you chuckled at his expression and answered your brothers text.

“it’s not like you live in a different apartment building johnny. you guys live on the same floor for goodness sake,” you teased him.

john grumbled a bit more before being called by your youngest brother.

you arrived to new jersey the morning of the devils game against the rangers. jack and luke had driven you from the airport and you caught up with them before they went to the rink.

john saw you as you bid goodbye to your brothers. he smiled and waved, a light blush coating his cheeks as you blew him a kiss.

you too made your way to madison square garden for the game. you adorned a hughes jersey accompanied with a necklace from your boyfriend.

john had thrown you a puck during warm ups under the pretence that you were a fan. your brothers waved and luke continued stick handling beside your boyfriend.

the game hadn’t even lasted a minute before the first fight broke out.

john wasn’t much of a fighter.

and this was proven when he went to fight the rangers player. sure, john held his own for a bit but he went down easily.

your spot next to the penalty box proved useful as you looked at john unimpressed. johnny smiled at you before conversing with his teammates.

they didn’t stay long in the box before they were ejected from the game.

you enjoyed the rest of the game despite the devils loss.

jack had texted you earlier to meet him and luke at the away changing rooms so you walked around like a headless chicken trying to find your way.

you’d finally found the changing room and waited off to a side when john walked out. he grinned and ran over to you, picking you up from the ground.

“oh i’ve missed you so much,” he murmured in your ear.

the second he put you back down, you brought him in for a kiss. however, it was short lived as you heard chatter coming your way.

instead you opted to change your position to a hug. “leave your door open and i’ll be there as soon as my brothers are asleep,” you whispered pulled away.

john gulped hard before turning to his teammates that filled the hallway. jack and luke had trailed behind and hadn’t spotted the two friends reuniting.

that was until dawson opened his mouth “hey, you’re hughesy’s sister!” he pointed out.

luke then pushed past his teammates towards his sister but stopped in front of her and john.

“you two know each other?” he questioned.

you nodded and moved away from john to your younger brother. “oh lukey, you need to stop growing up!” you exclaimed.

jack came up behind the two of you and hugged you in greeting. “how do you know john?” he asked.

“well we went to harvard together and we happened to be in the same class. also because i did some work with the team,” you explained.

the boys let it slide and informed you that john, nico and dawson were coming to their apartment to hang out a bit.

you smiled and nodded along.

the rest of the evening was spent with you sending longing looks to john and excusing yourselves to the kitchen whilst trying to remain under the radar.

“baby, i think we should tell them,” john announced.

you stopped pouring your glass and turned to your boyfriend. “you want to tell my brothers right now?” you asked.

john nodded. “we’ve been dating for three years, i want to be able to take you out on dates and not worry about your brothers finding us sneaking around,” he confessed.

you were about to agree with him when jack barged into the kitchen. “you’ve been saying for three years!”

luke and the rest of the guys followed after. dawson handing the captain some money as he grumbled about his luck.

“i thought quinn was crazy when he said he thought you had a boyfriend!” jack rambled.

“but then when you kept going for our games in boston and penguins games we thought it was cause of your crush on crosby,”

john laughed at the last part, watching as your cheeks turned red. you promptly elbowed your boyfriend “i was like eight,”

john kissed the top of your head and smiled at your brothers.

luke narrowed his eyes at you and john before widening them.

“wait a minute. when duker and i called you last year and he saw someone’s head was that john?” he asked.

the two of you looked at each other and blushed.

“eww,” the two hughes brothers gagged.

john wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your cheek. “now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and i haven’t seen each other in months,” john excused.

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part III.½/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget @ladystardustfromarss

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language (if anything lmao)

A/N: happy new year or new year's eve or whatever the fuck. Here's another part of this multipart because I just can't work with scheduled posting no matter how hard I try. Enjoy this teeny tiny continuation before I move this along hopefully to the RMS Samaria <3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band Of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The night before our first jump felt heavier than it should have. Everyone was on edge to some extent —how could they not be? When we were about to jump out of a plane—, but it was late night and most had found a way to keep their mind busy.

'Most' didn't include me.

I had checked my gear so many times I would probably be able to recite the parachute assembly manual in my sleep. My fingers twitched over the canopy, smoothing it out again even though it was already flawless. It wasn’t nerves—I told myself that. Just preparation.

That’s when I noticed Joe coming into my peripheral vision to stand beside me, his presence as casual as ever. His hand ran over my canopy like he had any business touching it.

"Didn’t think I’d live to see you overthinking something."

I swatted his hand away without looking up.

"I'm not overthinking. I’m just... making sure."

He snorted, clearly unconvinced.

"Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a control freak?"

"Do you always gotta get your two cents in?"

Joe smirked, completely unfazed by my glare.

"C’mon, Y/n. I’m just saying. This is what? The third time you went over it?"

Before I could answer, Skip's voice piped up from the far side of the room.

"I think she's going on five now."

I spun around to glare at him instead. "Who asked you? For fuck's sake." I mumbled the last part, returning to the useless task at hand.

"Like I said." Joe, of course, wasn't ready to drop it. "Control freak."

"Can you shut up?"

"Not really."

With a huff, I turned back to my chute, offering him nothing but feigned indifference and loud silence.

Since the near-fight we had seen ourselves involved in a couple of weeks prior, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about Malarkey's words —'what's gonna happen when we're out there? We're supposed to be a team.'—. He wasn't wrong, and neither was Toye. We would get someone killed.

Liebgott and I had, undoubtedly, become an issue to the company's efficiency, and that was a luxury we couldn't afford in war. Basic training? Barely, but getting into spats for every stupid thing and pushing each other to our limits for the hell of it wouldn't cut it once we had to get the job done.

So, instead of snapping as easy as breathing just to have the last word, I had been making use of the silent treatment when I felt the arguments firing up between the two of us.

Needless to say, he wasn't exactly a fan of me not pushing back immediately.

"What, you mad at me now?"

"Shocking, isn't it?" I didn’t even bother sparing him a look.

"Okay, listen." He shifted closer, leaning slightly against the table with his head turned in my direction. "It’s gonna deploy alright. Your biggest problem's probably gonna be the landing."

I halted my motions when he finally managed to catch my notice. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Joe shrugged. "You just suck at it."

There was a beat of silence in which I found myself gawking at the man standing by my side.

"And you suck at reassuring people."

He grinned like he was enjoying every second of this. "Oh, so you are overthinking."

"I’m not overthinking." My hands busied themselves with the gear, eyes fixed on their movements as I whispered, "I'm just afraid of heights."

Joe's snickering earned him a swift smack on his arm that made him freeze for half a second.

"Wait, you serious?" I didn't miss the way his eyes searched for the truth in mine. "Holy shit, you're serious."

"You better keep whatever comment you’re about to make to yourself," I warned with a menacing index pointing at him. "unless you want my boot up your ass."

Hesitation flashed across him for an instant, as if he was pondering how good of an idea it would be to opt for the teasing.

He observed the fairly quiet room and, without a word, he pushed himself off the table and did a half turn to face my canopy.

His fingers returned to the fabric, only that this time he actually decided to do something useful and began to carefully fold it.

"It's alright." His attention was trained on his actions instead of on me while we moved in synchronicity. "Everyone’s a little freaked out about it."

I glanced at him sideways, skeptical. "You sure look at ease."

"I am." He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to the side as a response to my observation. "Maybe tomorrow I won’t be. Maybe I’ll shit my pants in the plane, who knows."

I snorted before I could stop myself, and, when I looked up to gauge his reaction, I caught his eyes sneaking a look at me through his lashes, sporting a lopsided smirk on his parted lips.

We finished prepping my equipment in silence to everyone's surprise and, when everything was done, he pulled it away from my grasp without much complaining from me.

"You're good." There was some sort of finality in the statement that, for whatever reason, put me at ease. "Control freak and all."

"Keep running your mouth, Liebgott, and someone will have to scrape you off the drop zone tomorrow." I yanked back the gear to carry it to my bunk, throwing the last words over my shoulder as a warning, although there wasn't any real bite to them.

His steps caught up with me right when I reached my bed. "Oh, I'm terrified." He mocked, leaning on from behind just for an instant before walking past me to reach his own bunk.

I scorned, shaking my head and proceeded to tuck myself in.

Sleep found me faster than I expected and, in the morning, I couldn't help but wonder if Joe had anything to do with it.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 18

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 3,470 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings:  Foul language, mention of violent acts and cannibalism. This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: I am so sorry to everyone for how long this took me, I just have been stressed out after my courses finished. I applied to the major medical course that I have been working towards and straight up been waitlisted, there's SO MANY APPLICANTS! Anyway, I really hope I get called into the September intake... if not then I apply again because I REFUSE TO GIVE UP! Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae , @dij-ology , @jillian-mill , @littlelovebug98 , @hrefna-the-raven

Chapter 18

                After unearthing so much truth out of Tommy, you decided to stay away from the Hewitts for a few days just to get your head right. The things Tommy spoke about were heinous and unforgivable, you felt you could cope with the growing guilt in your chest that hovered around your love for that family but, when you heard all of it spoken out loud in earnest… you felt more conflicted than ever.

You started ruminating in your headspace for so long that time lost its meaning.

-They were desperate, it was eat or die- You paced in your living room circling aimlessly.

-Luda Mae and Tommy were tricked into it! Yes, they are victims! They were coerced by Charlie!- you sat with that thought, it was a recurring excuse you gave them to ease your mind. It was true, Tommy never chose to do it, he was pushed into it by hunger and familial pressure from Charlie. You wondered how he managed to continue his cannibal acts for so long with how sensitive he really is.

-Tommy must have learned to dissociate, similar to what I saw when he killed Dover, there was no one behind those eyes that night- The memory of Tommys vacant, feral expression sent shivers up your spine.

-He isn’t like that, he is different, and he would never do anything to hurt or upset me, he’s proved that-

You love Tommy, and he would do anything for you. You kept racing through all the excuses you could conjure.

-He killed a man for me, I’m still complicit in a murder so no matter what I can’t leave… I will just have to learn to look past it-

You didn’t feel good about staying because of legal liability, it made you feel trapped and phony. You leaned back on the living room sofa and began to tear up. The overwhelming feeling of a powerful bond with such a loving family made your heart ache. Tommy is the only man you ever truly loved, and the only man who ever returned that love.

-Am I really so above them for sticking around for so long? For agreeing to marry Luda Maes son? For inheriting their home? They want to give me everything I ever dreamed of I just have to accept their past… So why can’t I do it?-

You held your head in your hands and sobbed; you didn’t want this ride to be over but morally there is no way you could justify staying. You had been able to set aside your morals when you only assumed they committed those crimes. What brought back up the concerning transgressions was the answers you sought, and were given in full.

-I slept with a cannibal killer, I slept with him and I love him… What does this make me?-

The work your mind was doing caused you to be exhausted, your thoughts had trailed on too long and your head was hurting from crying and stressing out for so many days. Tommy had spilled his guts to you that day, he spoke the truth to you in the hopes that you would see his remorse, and you just hid away… and he left you alone the whole time out of respect.

You got up and ran out the door, you made a sprint for the Hewitt house.

-I need him- Tommy is your comfort, his big strong body was a place of refuge when you felt out of your mind.

As you jogged up the dirt road you began to run out of stamina and ended up gasping for air as you walked the rest of the way to the driveway entrance. You were frozen at the gate, you were a mess of conflicting emotions that you were determined to figure out.

A wash of anxiety fell over you and made you spin around to head back home, the fact that you waited so long probably upset them and you were too scared to face it. Your feet dragged behind as you slinked back to your home with your tail between your legs. When you got to your driveway you see Charlie’s truck parked in front of the house but no one was in the cab.

You look around but saw no one, so you made your way to your backyard to find Charlie standing at the fence staring off at the view of the Hewitt property. You open the gate to get in and he slowly turns and gives you a half smile and tipped his old dirty ballcap to politely acknowledge your presence.

“What are you doing here?” you wonder if he was coming from the station with how you didn’t see his truck pass you. Charlie folds his arms and sucks his teeth,

“Tryin’ to figure out what you think yer doin.” He says confidently.

You feel confused and ask, “What do you mean by that?”

Charlie smirks and leans on the fence, he looks back over at the view from over his shoulder and says,

“Tilly always loved keepin’ tabs on us, she was nosey in the best way, that woman.” He turns to look down to you “Seems the apple don’t fall far from the tree in this orchard.”

You sigh, he is being cryptic and it’s making you tired. You head to the white wicker bench and take a seat.

“Charlie, if you want to say something to me just say it, please. I’m not exactly in the best state of mind right now.”

He laughs, “Girlie are you hellbent on upsetting us all with keepin’ away so long? Why’d you go up and leave and say nothin’ like that-and for so long?” he sounded angry but you could hear a bit of worry in his words like a father scolding their child for putting themselves in danger.

You lean back and hold your hands on your lap, “I didn’t really intend to stay away so long, I’ve just been trying to think some things over.”

Charlie rolls his eyes, “You women and yer damn thinking.” You give him an annoyed look but couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculous statement.

“Yeah, go on n’ laugh while poor Luda n’ Tommy been sick with worry” he was starting to pace.

You are taken back by his words and ask, “Are they ok?”

“No, they AIN’T” he snaps.

You soften, “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

He stops pacing and lets out a sigh, he comes over and sits next to you bringing the smell of an old brand of aftershave with him.

“I know you asked Tommy questions about the past, hell, he ain’t talked none since y’didn’t come back the day after you up n’ left.” He leans back and crosses his arms and continues,

“Well… did you make up yer mind to stay away then?”

You jerk your head to look at him, you never ended up coming to a decision and you didn’t like the sound of never coming back. You respond,

“I didn’t really conclude what my next move would be, I’m too stuck on trying to figure out how I feel.”

Charlie groans and stares up at the sky before he speaks,

“For the love of- you gotta be shittin’ me with that.”

“What? It’s not exactly easy deciding if you can live with such a horrendous secret like that!” you felt dismissed.

“Looky here missy, y’already been made part of the family. Shit, you fucked one of us fer one thing, and y’got a dirty secret of yer own with Dover bein’ dead, so get off yer high horse with that morality crap and just accept a lovin’ family. Hell, those two dummies down at the house been carryin’ on about thinkin’ they fucked up n’ y’hate ‘em.” He pauses and moves your shoulder to face him, “Do you hate them?”

“No! I love them!” you feel tears sting your eyes

“Then what’s the goddamn issue girlie? You feelin’ like yer gonna get judged?” he asks.

You nod your head and he laughs, “Dang, who the hell’s comin’ down to Fuller that’s gonna know ‘bout this?” he pats your back with a heavy hand and continues to laugh. You hadn’t thought about it like that before but the big splint in your mind was about how you judged yourself.

Charlie could see you were distraught and conflicted; he hushed his laughter and put his arm around your shoulders.

“Ah, worried about your own judgment.” You were surprised he could understand your thoughts and you looked up at him and nodded with a confused look on your face.

“Don’t look shocked now, I ain’t got tumbleweed for brains, I had to understand the human mind to hunt ‘em.” He gives an evil grin that looked sincere to the mentioned point, he starts laughing,

“Don’t worry yourself none, I ain’t killed no one in a long time. Luda n’ Tommy are good people; you don’t got to go feel stricken with guilt bein’ ‘round them- it’s me you should feel guilty ‘bout.”

You try to get up but he swiftly grabs you and sits you back down roughly,

“Now I ain’t gonna let you get up n’ run off while I tell you like it is.” You feel a tinge of fear from his domineering actions, you begin to stiffen as he slowly puts his arm back over your shoulders he notices and huffs at it, “Relax little lady I ain’t gon’ hurt ya none, I just told y’how I ain’t killed in a long time now didn’t I?” you nod and ease up a bit despite not fully believing his word, he continues,

“If you can’t get past yer feelins then stay here n’ we ain’t gon bother you no more… if y’can find it in yerself to get past the stupid guilt then come on back to the family n’ move past this shit. No one wants to be rememberin’ the past, especially those two back home; Shit… the fact that you got it out of them in the first place is impressive.” He stands up and walks over to the gate to the driveway, he stops and turns to you,

“I’ll give you one day to think on this, if y’don’t come down by the next day then y’don’t get to come on back, and believe me girlie, I’ll make sure of that.” He turned and walked out of the backyard leaving the gate open.

You hear his truck start and listen as it rolls down the driveway, you let out a sigh of relief. Charlie was intimidating and you didn’t exactly like being alone with him but you couldn’t help but appreciate the blunt nature of his personality. You stand up off the bench and close the gate he left open then head inside the house, you lean on the kitchen counter and stare out the window. -I think I need to sleep on it and decide tomorrow- You didn’t like ultimatums but, in this case, it really was helpful and you felt a little more confident that you would figure it out.

--

The next day you woke up late, the birds were no longer singing outside your window but you felt light as air from the good sleep. -I’m going to get over it, this is ridiculous. People can change-.  You get out of bed and wash yourself; you couldn’t stop smiling the entire time. You put on some makeup and get into a cute yellow summer dress that matched the yellow purse you owned that had a white daisy pattern on it.

-I’m going to go back there and lift the clouds, this is my new home, they are my new family and they love me.-

You slip on some white sandals and walk toward the Hewitt house; it seemed like a cooling wind followed you as you made your way there. With your newfound relief, the Hewitt property looked a little less dark and run down to you and instead seemed full of potential for wiping it’s slate clean to start a new future.

You see Charlie in the barn pitching hay into the cow feeder, he looks up at you and gives a smug smirk followed by a wink and he continues feeding the cows. You make your way up to the front door with no sign of Luda Mae or Tommy anywhere which you found odd. You open the front door and walk inside heading towards the kitchen where Luda Mae is often found but there is no sign of her. You head into your old room and see Luda Mae on the bed curled up.

“Luda Mae? Is everything alright?” you ask.

She jolts up and turns to look at you, she has an expression of bewilderment,

“Y/N?” she uttered to herself.

You smile and she gets up and runs over to you, she gives you a hug and nearly knocks you over,

“Oh my lord, I can’t believe you’re really here!” She releases you from the hug and holds your hands in hers,

“Are you decided then? I got real upset when Charlie said he’d gone and meddled but I couldn’t help feel a bit of hope from what he’d went and done.” She looks into your eyes and waits for a response,

“I am yes. I realized that its ridiculous to be hung up over something so far in the past and that people change. I won’t be bringing it up again.” You see her eyes well up with tears and a smile emerge on her lips.

“Oh, I’m just so happy!” she squeals as she hugs you again a second time.

You hug her back tightly; she had such a way of hugging that just made you feel at ease and cared for. After a minute or two she lets you out of the hug.

“Where’s Tommy?” you ask.

She looks down and begins to fiddle with your dress, trying to flatten the creases she smushed into it,

“Dear, he has been keepin’ real quiet lately, I reckon he ain’t so great to talk to just yet.”

“I need to see him.” You said in a serious tone, she nods understandingly,

“Well, he’s been spendin’ a lot of time in the forest area, mopin’ about when he ain’t busy with chores. You might be able to find him out there.”

“Thank you” you give her a quick hug and turn away to head towards the forest, Luda Mae grabs your hand and says,

“Be real gentle with him dear, he’s been taking it hard.”

You nod and walk out to make your way to find him.

The sun was low and draped everything in a golden hue on the farm, lacing the edge of everything with a warm glow, you hurried along to find Tommy. You were so excited to see him but you were also feeling scared with him possibly being upset with you.

You make your way past the vehicle graveyard and find yourself in the cool shade of the forest, leaves hung down low and the setting sun shimmered in hushed rays through the branches making the area seem magical with deep golden hues dancing in the air.

You look around and call out for Tommy but there was no response, you spent a while searching the whole perimeter for him, he was not at the pond and he wasn’t near the cow meadow. You head back to the house but hear some tinkering noises in the mess of old cars littered across the dried grass.

As you moved closer toward the noise, you see a massive man bending over a large truck’s engine bay, it was Tommy. You smile and run over to him,

“Tommy! It’s me, I came back!” you cheer

He doesn’t turn to look at you, he just remained still, frozen under the hood of the truck. You slow yourself down and your smile dims,

“I… I know you must be upset. I shouldn’t have stayed away after I said I would be back next day, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

He doesn’t say a word and continues clinking away, you feel discouraged but you continue,

“It wasn’t fair of me to do that and I know you must feel a bit betrayed. I didn’t mean to hurt you or Luda Mae by keeping away, I was just really struggling to figure out my emotions.”

Still, he doesn’t respond. You go up close to him and touch his arm gently, he doesn’t acknowledge your attempt to connect and seems fixated on the engine. You aren’t sure what to say next, of course he would be mad at you, especially after you told him you would come back the next day, this man feared being abandoned by you and you broke his trust.

You take your hand off his arm and step back a bit, “You must hate me after I hurt you so bad, I truly didn’t want to cause any harm Tommy, please believe me.” You plead.

Tommy closes his eyes and sighs through his mask; he wipes his hands with an oily looking rag and sets down his tools on the ground. He leans his head back and stares into the trees,

“No” he says quietly

You move closer to him, “No?”

He shuts the hood of the truck and turns to look at you, he widened his eyes for a split second but quickly controlled himself from the overwhelming adoration he got when he saw you looking cute in your dress. He held the rag tightly up to his abdomen, his jeans were pale with black engine oil marks all over them, his old torn up shirt had the sleeves cut off to fit his huge arms through, it was once white but clearly was used for work which made it change to a dusty gray.

You felt a warm sensation of joy when he looked at you with his deep blue eyes, his expression softened when you blushed and smiled.

“I don’t hate ya.” He mumbles.

You smile at him and you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes,

“I promise I will never do that again Tommy, I swear it.” You say with conviction.

He nods his head and puts the rag in his back pocket; he reaches out and holds his hand out to you. You place your hand in his and he pulls you in and lifts you into a bear hug. You giggle and hug him back as your feet dangle from being lifted up so high,

“I missed you so much Tommy, I just knew there was no way I could live without you, it all became so clear to me.”

He let out a low laugh and squeezed you tightly, you managed to get your arms around his shoulders and squeeze back. The familiar scent of his fresh earthy tones wafted into your nose making you feel even happier to be back in his arms. You kiss all over his face and he laughs with joy while you pepper the uncovered skin on his face with love.

Tommy sits you on top of the trucks hood, it was an old F250 and the hood was massive so you tried to splay out the skirt of the dress to not get dirty. Tommy took off his mask revealing that he had a heavy amount of stubble growing underneath, he looked even more manly than usual and it left you feeling a bit giddy.

He leaned in over you and held himself up by putting his arms on either side of you blocking any way out, you felt like you were in a cozy nook, protected from any outside threats. He gazed lovingly into your eyes,

“I sure did miss my baby.” His soft baritone voice left you feeling butterflies flutter fiercely in your stomach. He leaned in really close to you and smiled, you felt like you were bewitched by him and couldn’t move or breathe. He carefully placed his lips gently onto yours and you felt yourself melt underneath him; you closed your eyes and held onto his thickly muscled arm as you felt a deep connection spark back up. Being back with Tommy and feeling his love and warmth was more than enough reason to keep you from staying away. You hadn’t realized how badly you missed everything about him, from his strong protective arms, to his honey sweet voice, you knew you made the right decision. How could anyone stay away from a life rich with love and loyalty. You were sure to erase any doubts in your mind, the longer he kissed you, the more your fears washed away.

[so-long-soldier-writes]

The Interrogation

liam dunbar x theo raeken

summary: coach interrogates theo. the chimera guesses he should’ve seen it coming.

word count: 1.6k

tags: n/a; coach being protective

Coach squints past the thin strip of glass between the door and its blinds, waiting for his target. For weeks now, he’s let it slide, but decided this morning that enough is enough. He remembers last year clearly: how badly Liam was bullied. He remembers the lack of confidence he carried in his shoulders, a stark difference from his freshman year; he remembers the emotion in his eyes that contradicted the words that left his mouth. Most importantly, though, he remembers the blood. Even before he entered the room, he could hear the yelling. He ran inside and found a crowd watching as two other boys pummeled him. He didn’t fight back, didn’t try to get away. Coach had to physically pull the boys off him and help him stand. His blood boiled with rage that day, and worst of all, they never dealt punishment for it. The guidance counselor let them off with warnings. They attacked him, their own teammate, and felt no remorse for it. 

Now, after it was decided almost everyone needed to retake the past year, Liam seems to have forgiven Nolan for it. They co-captain together like nothing ever happened. 

Coach remembers, though, and he always will. No one hurts his boys. And no one will hurt Liam like that ever again - not on his watch. 

Someone dressed in a black hoodie passes by the slit in the door, darkening the glass for a brief moment. Coach looks at the clock, then stands, target spotted. He hurries to the door and creaks it open, eyeing the boy in question. 

“You!”

Startled, he turns around, one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Did you-?”

“Yes, you. Get in here, now.”

He listens, but the anxiety suddenly wafting off him is unmistakable. Coach leads him into his office and shuts the door behind him. 

“Did I do something?” He asks while glancing around the room.

“What’s your name?” Coach overrides, not answering his question. 

“Theo.”

“Theo,” he repeats, scrolling through a roster of his students. “You’re not in any of my classes. Are you new here?”

“No….t really.”

“Not really? Were you here last year?”

“The year before,” he corrects. 

“Not last year, but the year before,” he confirms.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, where were you last year?”

“Um…” He looks confused, though it’s as if he has the answer, he’s just not sure how to say it. “Ms. Martin and Stilinski worked it out, because of the, y’know… mess last year. My records are all messed up. They’d be able to explain it better.”

“Right.”

He raises his eyebrow again. “Do you not believe me?”

“Well I know a lot of records got messed up because of last year, so I believe that part…” He changes course. “How much do you know about what went on last year?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you move away, or were you in town?”

“I was… mostly in town.”

Coach takes a breath, searching for patience deep within himself. “Kid. Are you gonna answer anything clearly, or keep making this difficult for both of us?”

Theo cocks his head. “Uh, I’m not sure why you’re confused. But I’m going to be late for class soon, and-”

“I’ll write you a slip.”

“Okay…”

“How about you answer this: how well do you know Liam Dunbar?”

The boy straightens. “Why? What’s wrong with Liam?”

“Nothing’s wrong with him,” he scoffs at the assumption, “I’m asking if you know him.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I do. Why?”

“Alright. Do you have any interest in playing lacrosse?”

“What? No.”

“Okay… Do you know Nolan Holloway?”

“Barely. What-”

“Have you ever-?”

“Why don’t you just ask me what you want to ask instead of wasting both of our time beating around the bush?” Theo snaps unexpectedly.

Coach’s eyes widen around the challenge. His protectiveness for Liam grows. “Alright. Yeah, yeah, why don’t I? Why the hell do I always see you at practices and games, lurking by the bleachers, staring at him?” Theo stiffens like he’s been caught. “Yeah,” he continues, “I see you.” His festering anger rises to the brink. “What do you want with him? Do you want to hurt him? Huh? Like those boys did last year? Are you upset over a push on the playground from the 5th grade, or did you lose a bet, and you’re waiting for him to be alone, so you can attack him?”

“What?! No!”

 He advances on Theo, pointing an accusatory finger at his face. “Because I won’t let you do that. I’m not letting anyone else hurt that boy, not after what happened last year.”

“I don’t want to hurt Liam!” He says, tone somewhere between a yelp and another snap. “I’d never hurt him.”

“Never? Then why do you watch him so intently? Why do you look like someone trying to study him, or learn his weakness to target him more easily?”

“I don’t! I’m waiting for him to be done so I can drive him home.” Now Coach narrows his eyes. Theo wets his lips with his tongue before explaining. “I take him to school and back home every day. You think I’d bother driving him if I wanted to hurt him?! I’m already alone with him more than you know. I’m not watching him to learn how to hurt him, I’m making sure he’s safe.”

“Safe?” He scoffs. “From what? I can assure you, under my watch, he’s safe.”

“From himself, when his anger starts to take over.” Theo’s voice drops to a whisper, but Coach still hears him clearly. “From Nolan, or anyone else, if it comes back to that.”

“Nolan?” He plays dumb, still a bit untrusting of Theo’s motives.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about; Corey told me how you pushed those boys off him at school that day.”

Coach finally nods. He’s truthful - he can tell by his eyes, full of emotion, and the conviction in his voice. He’s still unsure on one thing, though - the intensity of his gaze, his unbreakable focus.

“Then what’s that look in your eyes?”

“What?”

“Your stare. I’ve never seen such an intense stare. If you’re not watching him to learn him, then why do you look at him with that-” He stops, realizing. Theo squints, but Coach doesn’t continue his train of thought. Instead, his eyes soften. “You promise you only want to keep him safe?”

“I would never hurt him,” he repeats. 

“He’s like a son to me,” Coach confesses. “I don’t take it lightly when anyone harms my boys.” He drops his voice like Theo had earlier. “I know there’s things out there beyond comprehension. Things most people wouldn’t even understand. I know that’s what the guidance counselor was after, what she feared.”

Theo nods. He’s pretty sure most people in town are aware ever since the war.

“I knew before, too. These boys aren’t as slick as they think they are. Not around me.”

He raises an eyebrow in surprise. Coach can’t help but feel a sense of pride. Scott, Liam, Isaac, and even Ethan and Aiden in P.E. were all werewolves, and he always knew. They never caught onto him knowing, though, and the only reason he’s telling Theo now is to make sure Liam stays safe. 

“I don’t know how much you know about it,” he continues, “but Liam was in the middle of it. He was targeted pretty badly.”

“I know.” He’s been holding onto the straps of his backpack with his hands, but now reveals a claw protruding from one finger. Coach’s eyes catch it immediately. 

“Good.” He’s a little nervous he didn’t peg Theo as one, but blames it on not knowing him well. Also, he does literally hide in the shadows of the bleachers all practice long. Most other werewolves he knows hide in plain sight. “He’s a good kid.”

Theo stares and doesn’t respond. Coach would love to know what goes on inside his head all day. His claw retracts with complete control.

“Well, let me write you a slip. What class do you have now?”

“It’s study hall,” his lips quip with a mischievous smile, “but Liam’s in it, so he’s going to be questioning me on where I’ve been all period.”

“So you two are friends?” He confirms, double-checking if Liam knows Theo, or if the aloof werewolf just has an intelligent stalker. 

“Yes.” He accepts the bright green slip. “He protects me, too, y’know. Saved my life twice.”

“He knows you lurk under the bleachers, too?”

“He knows to look for either me or my wolf,” Theo says easily, a hint of sass in his voice. It takes Coach off guard, though, learning he’s not only like them, but can become more. 

“Well, guess you’re clear then. Sorry for the ambush.”

Theo huffs at that, but then softens. “Thanks for looking out for him, too.”

“He’s a good kid,” Coach repeats. 

~~~~~~

That evening, when he lets them go after practice, Coach pays special attention to Liam and where he goes. He used to take the bus, but that was years ago. Now, after talking to Mason and Corey for a moment, he finds the other boy who’d moved to meet him halfway. 

“Hey,” Liam says, exhaustion evident in his tone. 

“Hi, Little Wolf.” He tugs gently at a piece of hair that’s sticking to Liam’s forward, but the boy swats his hand away.

“Stop calling me that.” His smile contradicts his words. “I’m tired.”

“I can tell.”

“Can you help me with Spanish later?”

“Of course.”

“Cool.” Theo swings his keys once in his hand and Liam watches. “Can I drive?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine. Can we go now?”

“Mhm.”

Coach watches them leave. Liam walks close to him, smiling, and making dumb, witty jokes that somehow make the other boy laugh. He keeps an eye on them until they reach Theo’s truck, and he takes note of how confidently Liam climbs into the front passenger seat. It’s good to know Liam has not only an intelligent stalker, but also a protective friend. He’ll be safe with him, he’s sure of it now.

[asleeponelmstreet]

Burnt (part 1)

Part 2 Part 3

You are an imp with a mysterious past who recently moved in to the Hazbin Hotel. Not necessarily to be redeemed like a sinner, but you are seeking some sort of redemption. Helluva Boss characters will be heavily involved in the story in future parts, but for now... you just have your memories.

Tags: Alastor x female reader, allusions to past Blitzø x female reader, angst, PTSD, panic attacks, eventual smut, I have no idea if there is an audience for this but I wanted it so maybe someone else will like it

wc: 3,018

This is from a female reader's perspective! If people like it, I'd be happy to write a male or GN counterpart. This was initially written for just me, but I like where its going so I thought I'd share it. Also, I've already written the next two chapters but I want to rework them because I want the story to go in a slightly different direction. So I def plan on continuing this! I also posted this on AO3, but I'm not sure where it will get the most traction. I'm still figuring out this whole posting my fanfiction thing, usually it just sits on my computer.

If you'd prefer to read it on AO3, the link is here.

Minors DNI!!!

Screams filled you with terror. The rumbling roar of the fire followed, but a high-pitched ringing overpowered it. The steady sound drowning out all the other clamor distracting you from finding help.

As everything around you burned, the temperature rose. Sweat collected on the nape of your neck and dripped down your forehead, obscuring your vision. Your nostrils flooded with the smell of ash and burning flesh. The scent was so pungent, it mixed with the metallic taste of blood on your tongue from when you bit into your lips.

You ran barefoot, trying your best to avoid shards of glass and the other broken things that lay at your feet. Flames danced around you, licking at the charred ribbons. The only remnants of the tents that once surrounded you.

Your breaths came out short as you panicked. Your entire body quivered when you allowed yourself to think you may never get out. You may never find help. May never see those you loved most again.

A loud screech rang through the air, breaking through the buzzing in your ears. It was only when it ceased that you felt the raggedness in your throat. And you realized that you had been the one to create the sound.

“Where are you right now?” The heated voice whispered against your cheek was so familiar, but also different. Not quite the voice of a childhood friend or a long lost lover.

His breath against your cheek hitched. “Where are you? What’s wrong?” Panic registered in his voice. He lifted his weight off of you but tears blurred your vision so you couldn’t see him.

“Fuck. Answer me damn it. You’re really freaking me out right now.” Even without his body pinning you to the bed, you couldn’t move. It felt like something invisible was holding you down.

A sharp pain blossomed across your chest. You tried to get words out between shallow breaths, but nothing ever came.

“It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault.” Those were the last words you heard him say before it all went as black as ash.

Startled awake by a loud crashing noise, you sprang up in bed. Relief washed over you when you realized it was just another nightmare. A familiar nightmare, but a nightmare all the same.

You took in your hotel room that you had grown familiar with over the past few weeks as you collected yourself. But the sight of the red stains on your white sheets startled you, making you shove yourself out of bed and tumble to the floor.

You had just built up the nerve to stand up and investigate the bloody mess when someone slammed open your door.

“What was that sound?! Is everything okay?” It was Angel Dust, another resident at the hotel. His room was just across the hall so it made sense that he would investigate the cacophony of sounds coming from your room. But he was also quickly becoming someone you would consider a close friend, so you hoped his intrusion was a sign he cared.

“I-I fell out of bed.” You said the first thing that came to mind. Your head still foggy from sleep. Your simple response clearly did not work for the porn star whose mouth was agape as his eyes locked on your torso.

You looked down at your nightgown and saw it was soaked in blood. Deep gashes in the thin white material cut through the skin across your chest. Your mouth dropped open with a barely audible, “Oh.”

“Doll face, what happened?” Angel came up to your side and wrapped you in a side hug, attempting to comfort you without covering himself with blood in the process.

Your brain was taking its sweet time thinking of a response. Before you could get words out, two more faces peaked into your room. One belonged to Charlie Morningstar, the princess of Hell and the owner of the Hazbin Hotel where you were currently residing. The other was her girlfriend, Vaggie.

Both women looked like they had just woken up, still dressed in pajamas with their hair mussed from sleep. “We heard a noise. Is everything okay?” Vaggie asked as they tentatively let themselves into your room.

Seeing the worried looks on their faces seemed to jumpstart your brain a bit. At least enough for some semblance of words to come out of your mouth. “I’m okay, guys. I’m really okay. I must have scratched myself in my sleep, but the blood just startled me when I woke up so I fell off the bed.” Concerned looks were still plastered on all their faces. “I’m really sorry if I woke y’all up. I really need to file my claws.”

The buzz of radio static sent a shiver down your spine. Your body went stiff. You knew what that noise meant. He was near.

“What is all the commotion in here?” Alastor, the radio demon, appeared in the doorframe and welcomed himself into your room as if he was walking into a party. He twirled his microphone like a cane until he saw you in your disheveled state.

“My, my dear. What happened to you?” He said, his red eyes narrowing. His tongue darted out of the corner of his mouth, wetting his lips as his gaze rested on the blood splattered on your chest. It made your skin crawl.

“I was just telling everyone that I scratched myself in my sleep. I was just really startled when I woke up covered in blood. It’s really not a big deal.” Your skin flushed in embarrassment as you explained the story to the deer demon.

“You should use a nail file to prevent this sort of scene then.” You rolled your eyes at that comment, wondering if he had been listening in on the conversation before making his grand entrance. What a pompous tool, you thought.

“Is that it?” Charlie asked, looking at you sweetly with those huge of eyes of hers.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need to get cleaned up. And maybe, Nifty wouldn’t mind cleaning my bedsheets. If not, I really don’t mind doing it.”

“No way,” Vaggie said. “It’s her job. You should take a bath and we’ll send her up to take care of the bed.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling at her. The angel could be cold towards you, but a part of you felt like the two of you could be good friends one day. It will just take some time to warm up to each other.

“Again, I’m really sorry if I woke any of you up. I used to scratch myself when I was younger but it’s been a while.” You tried to not let your mind wander to the last time this had happened in your sleep. “And there was just so much blood.”

“Nonsense!” Alastor chided. “Don’t your worry your pretty little head.” He tapped you with his microphone, tilting your chin up so he could look you in the eyes. It made you feel like a child… and made you want to sink your claws into his grey skin. “I’ve been awake for hours.” He turned on his heels and waltzed out of the room, humming an upbeat tune on his way out.

Charlie reached her hand out yours, giving it a little squeeze before she and Vaggie left too. Angel was about join them, but you stopped him.

“Wait, Angie. Don’t leave.” You said, not wanting to be alone with your thoughts quite yet.

“Sure thing, toots. What’s up?”

You tried to think of something to say, but that was when Angel’s foot brushed up against a shard of glass on the floor. “Hey, what’s this?” He followed a trail of glass to a small broken picture frame. That must have been the crash that startled you from the nightmare.

Angel picked it up and scanned his eyes over the photograph. It was an Imp couple with beaming smiles, proudly holding their baby girl. “Aw, is this baby you and your parents?”

You nodded, tight lipped and too scared to let yourself speak.

“You’re so cute! Look at that lil’ baby tail. And your mom is gorgeous. You look just like her…” he squinted a bit, “But definitely with your dad’s eyes.”

“Thank you,” you responded politely.

Angel picked at the corner of the photograph and your stomach dropped. “Wait, is there another picture behind it? Can I see?”

You grabbed the picture frame from his hands. “No,” you growled. But seeing the hurt in the spider demon’s eyes made you feel horrible. “Uh, maybe later. I’ve got to wash all this blood off, but I’ll see you at breakfast.” You followed him out the door, locking it behind him.

Once it was just you in the room, you leaned on the back of the door sinking to your knees. You let the facade break and tears rolled down your cheeks as you carefully took the second photo out of the frame. There were actually three in total. But you couldn’t bare looking at the third photograph so you just slipped out the second one without peaking at what lay behind it.

The picture featured three imp children. You, in the middle, with your arms slung around the boys on either side of you. The three of you were so close together in the image that your cheeks squished against one another’s as you all wore huge grins.

The memory almost made a small smile form on your own face beneath all the tears. You lovingly traced a finger over both of their faces, longing for a time that seemed so far away now. But then the feeling of rage bubbled up inside of you, and your bloodied claw scratched across the face of the boy with braces who stood on your right.

Shame followed and you wished you could rewind time to undo what you had just done. You ruined the last memory you had of that happy boy. Before the fire. Before everything.

A knock at your door jolted you out of your self-pity. “Open up,” Nifty said. “I’m here to clean up your mess!”

Once you scrubbed all the blood off your body and dressed for the day, you joined the rest of the hotel in the kitchen for breakfast. Almost the whole Hazbin Hotel crew had finished their meals — Angel was still picking at some fruit left on his plate — but they were still hanging around.

Well, everyone except Alastor, but he enjoyed his unique tastes in the privacy of his own room. That was a relief.

You loaded up your plate and sat next to Angel across from Charlie, who was showing Vaggie some scribbled plans for the hotel on her notepad.

“Hey Angel, I’m really sorry about how I reacted when you saw that picture. I’m not really comfortable sharing.”

He stopped his nibbling and pulled you in for a hug. A real one this time. You melted into his touch, the feeling of his soft fur against your skin. “It’s okay. I get it, babe. You’ve had a rough morning.”

Husk approached you on his way to the kitchen sink with his dishes. “Hey kid, heard you had a lil’ accident this morning. I’ve been there, especially when I first got to Hell. Wasn’t used to having to maintain these claws.”

You could tell the bartender was trying to be comforting, but it embarrassed even more. Not because someone told him about your mess, but because you were born in Hell. You had these sharp talons your whole life.

“Thanks Husk,” you said, taking a sip of the coffee you had just poured. “Honestly, I’m normally good. I just had a nightmare last night.” You were hoping the excuse would make you feel less pathetic but then Angel let out a fit of laughter.

“A nightmare? We’re in hell. Hell, you’re from hell. You’re in the nightmare, sweetheart.” Your skin grew heated and tail flicked in annoyance. You could see from the look in his eyes that he realized how insensitive it was and regretted making fun of you. Joking was just his knee-jerk reaction.

Charlie chimed in just in time before things could get really awkward. “Ya know, what might be fun?!” She bounced in her seat. “You, me, a night out on the town! I finally have someone who I can venture outside of the pride ring with!”

You shifted in your seat, not sure what to make of this. A little worried that Vaggie might be jealous, but when you looked at her she looked totally unbothered. In fact, she looked quite pleased.

“Sure, Charlie. That sounds like fun.” You looked down as you picked at the food on your plate, trying to hide your uncertainty.

“Maybe, there’s a show tonight in the greed ring!” You hesitated at the mention of your old home, but the all-imp circus was long gone and so were most of the survivors. Many dispersed, escaping to the simple farm life in the Wrath Ring or the absolute dumpster fire that is Imp city.

“Sounds good. Thank you for inviting me.”

She bounced out of her seat so quickly that she knocked over the empty plate she had pushed to the side. But she didn’t care, she was too excited. The princess was genuinely one of the bubbliest, kindest individuals you had ever met in Hell, which was shocking considering the people she ruled.

“I’ll go look up tickets and then I’ll let you know what time to be ready!” she said as she sped off with Vaggie picking up the mess the princess left in her wake.

“Is that going to make Vaggie jealous?” you whispered to Angel.

“No, it was her idea. They were brainstorming ways to cheer you up while you were getting ready,” Angel said, a bit louder than you would have liked. “I’m jealous though.”

Charlie told you to be ready at 5, so when you finished your makeup and hair a half an hour early you decided you would make yourself a snack. Back in the kitchen, you gathered some cheese and hot sauce from the fridge. Squirting a bit of the red sauce on a big chunk, you took a bite and were mid-chew of the delicious combination when the whirring sound of a radio stopped your enjoyment.

“What an odd combination, my dear.” Alastor appeared right behind you, making you nearly jump out of your skin. “Is that a normal snack for your kind?”

Something about the way he said “your kind” made you want to punch him. “No,” you said proudly. “It’s just something my best friend showed me as kid.” You almost gasped when you realized what you had just revealed to him. And that you still referred to him as your best friend. “Want some?” You offered, knowing the overlord would refuse.

“No thank you. It’s not exactly my taste.”

“You won’t know until you try it!” you said, thinking only of him. Not the radio demon standing before you. “And who are you to judge? You’re a fucking cannibal.”

“Such foul language coming from the lips of such a pretty creature,” Alastor paused, humming to himself for a moment. “You look absolutely divine tonight darling.”

You almost choked. Is he flirting? You couldn’t really tell. So many of his words were just lies to manipulate soaked in honey. But you were dressed a bit differently than you normal tonight since Charlie had told you to dress up.

You didn’t know what to say so you settled on being polite since you knew it would appease him. “Thank you, Alastor.”

“What are you all dolled up for?” He grew closer to you, his face now only a few inches away from your own. You backed up to create some space between you two but hit your back against the counter.

“Charlie and I are going to see a show.” You nervously ran your hands up and down your arms as if it was cold – even though the room was getting quite toasty.

“Oh, how wonderful. Would you two ladies want a gentleman to accompany you on your outing tonight? I just so happen to be free.”

“No,” you said. His eyebrows raised and he squinted those devious eyes at you. “No, thank you. And anyways, we’re leaving the pride ring so unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to join.” You gave an exaggerated pout as if you were actually devastated at the thought of Alastor not being able to crash your night out with Charlie.

Alastor’s smile never wavered, but you thought you could see a twinge of disappointment in his eyes. “I never learned why you moved in to this old hotel with us. Certainly a hell born imp like yourself wouldn’t think she could be redeemed.”

You wracked your brain for what to say and settled on the same censored, but true story you told Charlie weeks before when you had arrived on her doorstep. “I wanted to help. I may not be redeemable, but at least I could try and do some good.“

“Mmm-hmm.” You could tell he knew you weren’t telling the whole truth. The whole truth would be too much.

“I’ve done so many horrible things during my life in hell and I thought this might be my only opportunity to make up for it.”

Alastor’s smile grew even wider, clearly glad to get at least a little more information out of you. You hadn’t told that last part to Charlie and you honestly wondered what made you share it with him now. Before you could get too lost in your thoughts – speak of the devil’s daughter, she saved you.

“Oh, hey Al,” she said, looking surprised to see you two talking so close together. “You ready to go? I know it’s a bit earlier than I planned but I want to make sure we can beat the crowds.”

“I’m down!” you said, happy for the excuse to slip out of this oddly intimate conversation with the radio demon.

Thank you so much for reading! I thought I was done with the next part but I want to rework it to make it better. Until next time...

Part 2

[crowsofdarkness]

El Este Aici: One

-gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit-

Pairings: Count Orlok x OFC! Elenor

Content Warnings: language, very dark themes, mentions of death including child death(off-screen), vampirism, "monster fucking," mind control, drinking, drug use, hallucinations, physical and mental abuse, violating a grave, and burning of a body. If I miss any content warnings please let me know and I will be happy to add them!

Summary: You wakened me from an eternity of darkness.

You... You... You are not for the living. You are not for human kind.

And shall you be one with me ever-eternally? Do you swear it?

Elenor grew up hearing folklore about her family lineage. When death takes someone close to her, she’s forced to step foot into a home she was exiled from. Something draws her towards a box in the attic and once she opens it, she’s visited every five years by the darkness she was destined to always find. 

Authors Note: So this is a modern version of Nosferatu with Bill Skarsgard's version of Count Orlok. As I mentioned in the warnings, this is a very dark/mature story so please read at your own risk. I will do my best to keep things true to the movie/story but some things might change. Tags will be open if anyone is interested.

2010- 20 YEARS OLD.

ELENOR

Grief is a very peculiar thing. It hits everyone differently, some bedridden for weeks while others continue on with their day as if nothing happened. I suppose I’m a mixture of both; not really bedridden but I do find it extremely difficult most days to live on with my life knowing who I lost. 

My grandma, Helena Hutter. 

She passed away in her sleep the other night which was odd to my father and I because my grandma was a healthy person. No signs of age or sickness, even though she was in her eighties. That’s considered young to most. 

When my father found out she died, he fueled his private jet so we could fly to Romania. We lived here up until my fifteenth birthday and suddenly the morning after, my father whisked us away to the States. Whenever I tried to ask him why the sudden move, he always had the same answer. 

“Last minute job opening.”

Growing up, my life was what some considered privileged. My father owned a multimillion dollar company and gave me anything I wanted. I didn’t realize until I was older that I realized it was because he was a single father and felt guilty for what happened to my mother. 

On my sixth birthday, when I wondered why I didn’t have a mom while my friends did, my father said it was because she died giving birth to me. That was the first and only time he ever talked about my mother. 

For the last five years, I lived in the states, finishing highschool and I was currently in my second year of college. I was studying history, unsure what I wanted to do with it once I graduated. Thankfully it was fall break so I had a few free days to help my dad clean up my grandma’s house. 

“Elenor. ELENOR!” 

Snapping my eyes away from the packed up kitchen, I glanced over towards my father who was sitting at the kitchen table with papers strewn about. He’d been going through my grandma’s will and financials, the stress evident on his face. Out of four kids, my father was the only one that was willing to come to his mothers house to pack things up. His brothers, my uncles, wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. All because of The Hutter Curse. 

Since my grandma was born, our line was only filled with men. There wasn’t a woman born for sixty years until I was born. My uncle Tony said that is what killed my mother; giving birth to me. I broke the curse and for that, someone had to pay the price. 

“Did you say something?” I asked with a sheepish smile when my father called my name once more. 

He pinched his eyes shut with a sight. “How many more rooms do you have to pack up?” 

“Just the upstairs bathroom which really shouldn’t take me long. Why?” I ran a hand through my black hair. 

Another part of the curse from what my uncles tell me. Everyone besides my grandmother, was born with blonde hair and blue eyes. 

Me? 

Black hair with brown eyes dark enough they could be considered black. 

“We need to get back home by tomorrow evening. An important board meeting came up and I have to be there,” my father explained. 

I nodded, silently thankful that we were going back home. As much as I loved my grandmother, her house gave me the creeps. I alway felt like someone was watching me. 

Leaving my dad to finish whatever he was doing, I slowly took the stairs towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. My feet came to a halt just right before the bathroom, not quite stepping over the threshold. My father warned me when we first arrived here the other day not to go up in the attic and when I asked why I couldn’t, he said it had been locked for years and no one had been able to get inside. 

Yet, my wide eyes stared at the open attic, the ladder pulled down to the ground. I know for a fact it wasn’t open like this when I was up here earlier today. Maybe my father had opened it while I was doing our lunch run and forgot to close it. 

Veering away from the bathroom, I hesitantly took the stairs up to the attic, feeling this sudden magnetic pull to see what was up there. Almost like a voice was calling for me. 

There was a light already clicked on which I should have thought was odd but again, I assumed my father forgot to turn it off. There were boxes lined everywhere, I could barely walk through. The smell of something old and moth balls permeated the air and I had to pull my shirt over my nose. 

Better to pretend I didn’t see this mess and head back down. 

Turning on my heels, I was about to do just that when I caught sight of a small box on top of a shelf directly ahead of me. I couldn’t explain it but it seemed off, like it didn’t belong with the rest. The same magnetic pull that brought me up here began to guide my feet towards the box, almost as if I was in a trance. The only thing on my mind was finding out what was inside of it. 

Grabbing the knife from my back pocket that I’d been using all day to cut pieces of tape, I cut open the box.

“Fuck!” I cursed, bringing my finger to my mouth to suck the blood that began to pour from cutting it against the sharp blade. 

This was not how I expected to spend my 20th birthday. I’d rather be out with my friends, getting drunk, and dancing the night away. Instead I’m slicing my hand on a knife while going through my dead grandmother's belongings. 

My heart sank when I thought of her. I hadn’t seen her in five years due to what happened the last time I was here; the incident my father refuses to talk about. 

“Grandma, I had this weird dream,” I called out to her as I ran into the kitchen that morning, ready for her breakfast of pancakes and two slices of bacon. 

“About what?” She asked me, curiosity filling her eyes. 

Sitting at the table, I rested my chin on my hand. “I can’t remember much, just this hand reaching out to me. It had long fingers and even longer fingernails. I wasn’t sure if it was a human or some kind of monster. He only said three words.” 

I’d been so engrossed in talking about my dream I hadn’t noticed my grandma freeze over the stove, her back rigid with this unknown emotion. 

“Dream of me,” I said, still not noticing the shake in my grandmother’s hands. “It was so weird!”

Blowing out a shaky breath, I held my bloody hand against my chest while I opened the box in front of me with my good hand. I smiled looking at old pictures of her before setting them to the side, digging through some more until my fingers brushed along something hard at the bottom. Pulling it out, I raised a brow at the older looking jewelry box and realizing I needed both hands to open it, I wiped away some of the blood on my jeans before opening it. 

“Oh shit,” I gasped seeing the older necklace inside of the box. 

Picking it up with my injured hand, I didn’t pay much mind that my blood was smeared over it now as I turned it over to inspect it. Still holding onto it with my injured hand, I looked into the jewelry box to see something engraved in Romanian on the inside of the cover. Thankfully I was still able to read the language even though I’ve been gone the last five years. 

"Come to me, a guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, spirit of any celestial sphere, anything. Hear my call,” I spoke in Romanian. 

I continued to kneel in the attic of my grandma's house, waiting for something to jump out in the eerie silence. All I felt was a sudden chill as it brushed over my neck causing me to shiver. 

Knowing I wasn’t even supposed to be up here, I pocketed the necklace and wrapped up the jewelry box into the sweater I had taken off. Just as I was about to decide on going to wrap up my injured hand, a deep voice spoke out into the air, brushing along the shell of my ear. 

“Elenor. You are not lost to me. Dream of me. Only me.”

Whirling around, I choked on a breath nearly expecting to see someone behind me but when I saw no one, I took that as a sign to run down the stairs. 

Wrapping the towel around my chest, I stepped out of the shower and wiped away some of the steam from the mirror. My eyes were tired from the last few days and my body ached for the comfort of the bed in the guest room. It was nearing eleven in the evening and my dad still hadn’t returned from drinks with old friends. I never used to worry about where my dad was or what he was doing. Back in the states, we lived separately. I lived in the dorms at school and him in the same house for the last five years. But ever since I found that box in the attic a few hours ago, I’ve had this looming fear that something is wrong. I couldn’t stop the way my hands shook or my heart raced even when I wasn’t thinking of the things I found. Or the voice I heard speak to me. 

After changing my bandage on my injured hand, I let the towel drop to my feet and stared at my reflection once again. I had thrown my hair up in a messy bun before my shower, now a few strands fell around my face. I grazed my hand across my chest, over the birthmark and let out a low hiss. 

I’d had this birthmark since I was born and never paid attention to it until recently. It was an odd one, placed in the valley between my breasts and it was red, the skin raised. The shape, however, was what perplexed me every time I looked at it. 

It was in the shape of a bite mark. 

Sighing, I threw on the tshirt and panties I had set up on the closed lid of the toilet and turned off the light to the bathroom. I walked across the hall towards the guest room, ready to finally sleep the long day away, yet when I saw the glimmering necklace on the dresser I paused. It was the necklace I’d found upstairs in the attic. It was a gorgeous piece of jewelry, definitely older, so I assumed it was my grandmothers. I hadn’t had the chance to ask my father if he knew or not since he left beforehand. 

It wasn't anything special, just a simple heart shaped necklace on a silver chain. I couldn’t ignore that familiar magnetic pull, however. It was strong, nearly suffocating, and when I picked it up from the dresser, I shuddered at the feeling that filled me. Something only to be described as pure euphoria and elated peace. I wanted to feel this way until the end of my days so with careful hands, I clasped the necklace around my neck; it rested right against my birthmark. 

The sounds of heartbreak, loneliness, and despair filled the dark space. Sobs over took my body  as I felt like I’d been floating, hands outstretched into the darkness that surrounded me to look for an anchor. 

No, not an anchor. 

Someone to hold onto. 

My bottom lip trembled as tears fell down my face, my feet dragging through the scratchy carpet while I walked towards the open window. A soft breeze danced around my ankles, the curtain wrapping around me like a warm blanket moments before darkness began to creep in. The darkness loomed like a shadow, tall and frightful. 

"Come to me, a guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, spirit of any celestial sphere, anything. Hear my call,” I sobbed out, holding my hands together as I stared up at the looming darkness. 

The necklace burned on my chest as a foreign language breathed life into the darkness, my body slowly rising from the ground. 

“You. You awakened me from an eternity of darkness. You…You,” the voice rasped, that shadow now within a fingertips reach of me as he blended in with the curtain. “You are not for the living. You are not for human kind.” 

Suddenly, everything around me shifted and I now lay outside in my grandmother's garden. I was bathed in the scent of lavender, it staining my skin along with the early morning dew from the grass. I lay there frozen, almost in a catatonic state unable to move or even breathe properly. All I could do was stare up to the night sky, the moonlight hidden behind the thickness of clouds. 

“And shall you be one with me ever-eternally?” The foreign voice graveled. “Do you swear it?” 

A ghost of a hand slowly dragged up between my legs to rest over my panties. Nails pressed against my clit causing a moan to fall from my lips. I arched my back off the ground when my panties were moved to the side, those fingers gliding between my folds before pressing two sharp nails into me. I hissed a moan of pleasure while grasping at the grass underneath me. 

A face only to be described as death appeared in front of me, our shared screams breaking into the thick darkness when his physical hand wrapped around my throat. His naked form loomed over me, his clammy skin pressing against my bare lower half. I thrashed against his vice grip around my neck while his other hand continued to pump his fingers inside of me. 

“Do you swear it?” His voice asked into the deep confines of my mind. 

Completely under the spell, I did my best to nod just as my orgasm ran through me with such force I cried out. 

“I swear.”

I sat up in bed with a start, gasping for breath as I took in the room. I wasn’t outside. I was back inside of the guest room in my grandmother's house, alone. No deep voice or face covered by death.

It was a dream. 

But it felt so real. His voice, his hand around my throat, his fingers inside of me, and that orgasm. How could it have been a dream if it was one of the most euphoric orgasms I’d ever felt?

“It’s the jet lag,” I ran a hand over my face. “It’s finally catching up to me.” 

No matter how many times I tried to tell myself that, the wetness between my legs told me otherwise that everything I dreamt was real.

[ruh--roh-raggy]

To Be Human (Monster! William Afton x Fem! Reader Beauty and The Beast AU) - Part I

Hello hello! First and foremost I would like to wish a huge belated Happy Birthday to my dear friend @yellowbunnydreams this whole AU is dedicated to her 💜💜💜 If you like princesses and castles and ball gowns and Will being a giant fucking monster definitely give this a read, I think this story is going to be very fun! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!

WARNINGS: Mostly plot/set up, Will's kind of a dick, kidnapping I guess but not really, it's a Beauty and The Beast AU there's going to be some underlying themes of Stockholm syndrome if you squint. Not proofread, sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes!

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 2,849

Part II (TBA)

You squeezed your legs harder against your horse’s sides, promoting him to run as fast as he possibly could. Tears sting your eyes as you race through the forest, sharp branches snapping at your face, your haste not allowing you time to care about watching out for them. The heavy gallop against the damp, muddy earth, quickly turned into loud, clattering hooves that fell against the cobbled path that formed at the opening of the tree line. The dark castle twisted up into the black sky, its gnarled, jagged appearance not much different than the branches that tangled the perimeter of the clearing. Your body instinctively jolted as a loud clap of thunder rang out across the courtyard, a crack of lightning illuminating the night. You found a small spot of shelter to tie up your horse, pulling the hood of your cloak as far forward as an attempt to stop the rain from pelting you in the face. You were already soaked to the bone, your dress clung to your body, your hair fell in long stringy tendrils across your face. You hurried up to the large castle doors, having to throw your full weight against it in order to get it to move. The creak that came from the ancient hinges was nearly deafening as it echoed through the grand foyer inside. “Father!” You call into the pitch black room, barely being able to make out the shape of the grand white marble staircase that took up a large portion of the space. You hurried inside, pushing the door shut behind you with a strangled groan. You knew what you were doing was dangerous, being so careless left you with a major possibility of losing your life. Your father had been taken captive by the tyrannical monarch who resided in this palace. “Please, answer me! Where are you!” You continued to call.

At this point you didn't care about what could happen to you, you were more concerned about what had happened to him. You raced up the stairs, nearly slipping in the water that streamed off your body, leaving small puddles in your wake. You continued to call out for him as you ran through the halls, your voice echoing off the grand arched ceilings. You hear someone shout your name from deeper inside, your head snapping in the direction of a door you hadn’t noticed. You ripped it open to reveal a winding stone spiral staircase that seemed to lead up impossibly higher into the castle. The heavy wrought iron handle slammed against the wooden barrier, the loud bang echoing through the halls. You could hear thunderous footsteps hurrying in your direction, someone was coming. You hurried in the direction of your father's voice, your hands wrapping around the thick metal bars as you saw a cell with a single candle inside. He calls your name again, this time in a soft harsh whisper. “What are you going here? Leave before he finds you.” His eyes darted down the stairs. “My darling girl, I love you too much to have you resolved to a fate like this. Leave me, take care of yourself.”

“I'm not leaving here without you.” Your voice trembles as you speak.

“You have to, if he catches you I'm not sure either of us will survive.” He explains quickly. “Go.”

“So, this is your insolent little brat.” A voice growls from the darkness.

“Your Highness she came-”

“I don't believe I ordered you to speak, farmer!” The voice snarls. “I thought I was being generous, allowing you to pay off your debt for stealing from my prized garden. Now you're responsible for another trespasser.”

“I'm here to take his place.” You step in front of your father, blocking him from the Monarch's view.

“Absolutely not-”

“This is your last warning farmer, step out of line again and it'll be your head.” He snaps. “Now, as for you.” You could feel him sizing you up despite the fact you couldn't see him. “You want to take his place, hm?” Your eyes widened as he stepped into the dim light. You scramble back, his monstrously tall form too close to you. A white linen shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders, thick, light brown fur streaked with grey flowed out of its deeply plunging neck. His fingers were tipped with sharp, black claws, fur matching his chest seeming to cover every exposed area of skin. Long ears swooped towards the back of his head, tied at the nape of his neck like a ponytail. The soft rounded muzzle of a rabbit was a stark contrast to the intimidating energy that rolled off of him in waves. Darkly lined silver eyes studied your much smaller form from his towering advantage. “Your father promised me servitude for the rest of his pitiful life just so I wouldn't take it away from him, is that something you're willing to give up?” His eyes narrowed, you swore you caught the faintest sight of sharp canines situated behind his squishy nose.

“If it means you'll let him go, then yes. I'd do anything.” You make your best attempt at sounding strong, you could see from the sneer that stretched across the creature's face that it wasn't working. He scans over your shaking form, your hands balled into tight fists at your side.

“You're free to go, farmer.” He quickly takes the heavy wrought iron keys from his very pocket and tossed them at you. You yelp at the sudden action, stepping to the side and letting them whizz past you and clatter to the floor. “It’ll be nice to have a new pet around for a change.” He spits before turning in his heels and disappearing into the darkness. The moment he was out of sight you scrambled for the keys, slotting them into the lock and ripping the door open. Your father crushes you in a hug, cradling your head against his chest as you break down into tears.

“I'm sorry, you got into this mess because of me and I am so sorry.” His voice cracks as he attempts to comfort you. “I'll bring others, we’ll get you out of here, you just need to buy yourself some time.”

“I'll be okay.” You sniff, wiping harshly at your eyes. “You just focus on getting out of here and back to town, but do not come back with the others.” You lower the volume of your voice, attempting to check around for the beast that lurked effortlessly amongst the shadows. “I will find a way to get myself out of here. It's too dangerous for anyone to come save me.”

“I'm not going to leave you here with that monster.”

“You don't have a choice.” Hearing you say this out loud, your father knew you were right. “If we disobey him, he would kill us both before we even had a chance to argue. Now come, I brought Etienne, he should have enough strength to get you to the next village from here.” You tried your best to remember the way you had come, winding up getting stuck at a few dead ends before finally stumbling into the massive foyer once more. You both looked around, the beast was nowhere in sight.

“Come, if we hurry we can get out before he-”

“Now, now.” Your blood ran ice cold at the sound of the voice. “You've both made it so far, I'd hate to have to take drastic measures.” Your breath caught in your throat as he dragged a long claw across your neck, pausing over your pulse. “Leave this place and never come back. If you do, I'll kill her and make sure you're not around long enough to tell about it.”

“Go.” You locked eyes with him, both of you understanding the severity of the situation in an instant. You stood deathly still as you watched your father slowly descend the stairs and slip out into the storm.

“Such a shame.” His claw leaves your throat, his hand harshly squishing your face. “You really are a pretty little thing. Now, you're going to be stuck here, withering away until you're nothing but an old crone.” He chuckles as he pushes your face away with his thumb. “Pathetic.”

“What are… what are you going to do to me?” You stutter.

“There's a lack of good company in this castle.” Your eyes trained straight ahead as you listened to him pad slowly behind you. “Your job is to sit there and to not get yourself into any more trouble.” He says sternly. “When I've determined whether or not you'll be of any use to me I’ll give you a more specific set of tasks.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I'll kill you.” Tears welled up in your eyes at the thought. You stared at the door, a million thoughts racing through your head. ‘Maybe if I ran I would be able to get enough of a head start to make it out.’ You jolted as a warm, soft hand wrapped around your wrist. “I wouldn't act on whatever idea is rattling around in that head of yours.” His lips pulled back into a snarl, now giving you a much clearer view of the sharp canines that filled his mouth. “The more you struggle and resist the harder this is going to be for you.”

“So you're just going to keep me as your prisoner until I die alone in that cell?” You spit at him.

“Oh, that all depends on you, my dear.” A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, sending a shiver down your spine. “If I hadn't caught your father stealing from my prized garden with his filthy hands neither of us would be in this mess, now would we?” He grabs you harshly by your shoulder, dragging you up the hallways behind him. “If you want to take the place of a thief you are to be treated like a thief. You can either behave and accept the consequences and make your time here much easier on yourself or you can scream and cry and carry on like I'm expecting you to do. But trust me sweetheart, I am not a very patient man, it would do you well to be in your best behavior if you want to continue to have any hope of ever getting out of here alive, do I make myself clear?” You're roughly shoved to a stop, your shivering form now standing in front of the same dimly lit prison cell that had previously held your father. You stumble slightly as he shoves you inside, the door slamming loudly behind you.

“I'll bring you a meal in the morning, until then I don't want to hear a sound out of you.” He gives you a warning look before slinking into the darkness. You stood in silence, the only sound came from your shaky breath bouncing off the walls. The slow squeak of the hinges closing on the door below signaled that you were left alone. You took a few steps backwards, your shoulders bumping into the wall before you slowly slid to a sitting position. A steady drip of water splattered against the floor overhead, the soft squeaking of the rats that poked around curiously just outside of your cell made your skin crawl. You were in a complete state of shock. Just this morning you were harvesting berries from the garden to make preserves for the market in town, now you weren't sure if you would ever see the light of day again. What felt like days had passed when in reality it had only been a couple of hours. You huddled into the back corner of your cell as you heard the door open once more. You perked up at the sound of two voices you didn't recognize bickering from the stairwell below.

“I cannot believe he would do something so… so… revolting! To lock anyone away up in this old tower, especially a lady-”

“Sunny, you're acting like His Royal Highness is some sort of lap dog. Just be happy she’s still alive. The last time someone stole from his garden it didn't end up nearly as pretty.” Two tall figures stepped into view, the hallway too bright for you to make out any defining features. “oh, look at her, the poor thing is terrified.” The female voice of the pair coos.

“Honestly,” her male counterpart snaps, “for a king he has absolutely no manners!” A heavy key is slotted into the lock, the door quickly opened as one of the figures steps inside. Long white sleeves billow down his stick thin arms, a red velvet vest embroidered in gold thread molded perfectly to his torso, a pair of striped pants in matching colors ballooned at his ankle. Golden points whirred around your saviors face, a permanent smile carved into the features of what you were assuming was a mask. “My dear girl, are you alright?” He cautiously offers his hand to you, not wanting to startle you by moving too quickly.

“Who-” your brow furrowed as the second figure stepped into the light. You're met with the sight of a long snout tipped with a shiny black nose, her long, multi-colored hair tied into a long braid down the middle of her back. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sundrop,” the jester smiles warmly at you. “And this is Roxanne.” He motions to the wolf behind him. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, what might your name be? Our lovely little captive.” He helps you to your feet, Roxanne keeping her distance from you as you mumble out your name in response to Sundrop’s question.

“You do know you're going to get in a lot of trouble if you take her out of here, His Majesty is not going to be pleased.” Roxanne shoots Sundrop a warning expression.

“And when did you become so uptight? You're really going to let her freeze up here just because he's having a bad night?” He argued with her.

She sighs, shaking her head in response. “No, no that wouldn't be right.” She picks up the candle, holding it out in front of her to light your path. “Let’s bring her to Moon, he’ll have a better chance of keeping her hidden until you can figure out a plan to explain yourself.” You found yourself tucked safely in between the two of them, both of them surveying every darkened hallway and slightly ajar door as they led you through the empty castle halls. You eventually came to a stop in front of a wooden door that looks no different than the other hundred you had already passed. Roxanne reaches out, softly tapping against the barrier with one of her claws. There was a loud crash, followed by some muffled cursing as whoever was inside made their way over.

“Roxanne, I thought I specifically told Sun-”

“I know you're busy, but this is urgent. Your brother,” she shoots an accusatory look towards Sundrop, “has decided to get himself directly involved in the King’s affairs.” There was a tense silence as Sundrop stared back at whoever was on the other side of the door, still blocked from your view.

“You can't be serious.” The voice sighs before letting out a small sound of distress. “What was it this time? Knocked over one of the busts in the hall? Trying to get back at him for calling you unfunny-”

“That has nothing to do with it and you know-”

“Gentlemen!” Roxanne cuts off the argument before it has much of a chance to get started. “You can fight later, it's only a matter of time before he figures out that she's left her cell.” The hidden figure clambered into the hall, paling when he saw you standing alongside the others.

“You took one of his prisoners?” He whispers harshly in Sundrop’s face.

“I am not just going to leave a poor young woman up there to freeze to death. I will do whatever the King asks of me but I will not let him torment an innocent bystander.” He instantly rebuttals. “He’ll come around, I just need to warm him up to the idea.”

“Or he'll dismantle you the moment he gets his paws on you.” His brother scoffs.

“Moon, you know as well as I do, what that man needs is a companion. He's spent so long locked up in this god forsaken castle for so long that all he has left is us.” Moondrop’s gaze drifts over to you, his expression softening as he studies your terrified features.

“You are to go smooth this over at once. I'll keep her here with me in the meantime.” Sundrop thanks his brother excitedly, Moon pressing a comforting hand in between your shoulders as he guides you through the door. “Make sure he understands that this was your doing and not hers.” Moon warns before hurrying you inside, leaving your fate entirely in the hands of these three strangers you had just met.

Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll (if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!)

[cheesus-doodles]

For Yandere BFF Rindo, it seems like he's just a baby in denial (totally in love with bestie but unwilling to admit it and covers by saying its a best friend thing (totally not a boyfriend thing)). Based off your "Opinions about Dating BFF Reader", a question has been sparked.

What would happen if BFF herself asked Rindo to date/why aren't they dating? BFF has heard from other people that when a boy and a girl like each other alot and never want to be apart that means they should date. It totally sounds like an upgrade from BFF (isn't dating just like being super BFF's with kissing?) Once bestie gets an idea in her head she doesn't seem to let up or let go of it, so how would Rindo handle bestie insisting that they should date/aren't they basically dating already? (Or alternatively, does Rindo succeed in convincing bestie that she is mistaken and then proceeds to beat up whoever put these ideas in her head)

I totally can imagine Ran catching wind of this bestie thinks she should be dating Rindo agenda and egging it on (either to annoy Rindo or because he can see how obsessed Rindo is with bestie and thinks it'll do him some good to be able to claim a more official possessive position in her life)

been working on A Friend in Me but also got caught up in the TR Puzz Reve game ;-; so sorry if things get a bit slow here

Recommended Reading: Opinions on dating BFF Bimbo Reader

Masterlist | Rindo Tags

‎

I previously answered about Rindo being asked by an external party on dating you and how it would react, but I honestly think that the same question coming from you would get a totally different reaction.

Under every circumstance, Rindo will absolutely just freeze up and short circuit the first time you ask about dating. Not because its a strange question to ask, given its something he not only have been asked multiple times before, but also have considered before himself, but because ya know, it’s you of all people. The one person he never expects to know anything beyond what he teaches you.

Yes sure, he knows that you love to read those sappy romance books whenever you sleepover (cause you need him to explain the story to you, and god only knows why this baby boy continues to keep them in his room for you). But he has always made sure to always trick you with regards to what those stories were actually talking about, so where on earth did you hear about dating from?

Asks you to repeat your question as if he didn't hear it the first time, but ends up cutting you off halfway and demanding to know who you heard that from - Rindo's not going to let you leave until he finds out where you learnt that close friends should date, claiming that it's dangerous to listen to others beside him.

Did he actually have feelings for you beyond being a caring, overprotective bestfriend? Irrelevant, in this boy's opinion, especially so right now when there is clearly a more pressing issue to solve at hand.

‎‎

But after this stage, Rindo's next actions depend on the current situation the two of you find yourself in.

If it's still just you and Rindo against the world, then this boy would immediately try to change your mind. If you are already insisting that the two of you are essentially dating (since the two of you were already super BFFs right?), Rindo would try his best to persuade you that you had the wrong idea, that dating and having being BFFs were completely different things and that you were completely mistaken in your understanding.

Would do his best to try and find out where you heard it from so that he can have a little talk to set things straight (hoping to anyone out there it isn't Ran because fuccckkkkk). And you'll get to hear straight from the horses mouth on how having a boyfriend was bad for you and you shouldn't aspire to have one. If you heard it from Ran then Rindo just has to convince you to stop talking to his stupid older brother because what else can he do?

However, if you do continue to insist that the two of you are already dating or that you two should start, then Rindo would very reluctantly go along with it with with several conditions, essentially that it would be no different from when the two of you were just BFFs, and that you weren't allowed to tell anyone else about this "dating" without his express permission, especially not Ran.

Anything more than calling himself your bestfriend would not be processable in Rindo's mind, and honestly the idea of kissing for this baby boy is so out there at this point in time that he can't even comprehend it without his brain melting down and him having to reset.

‎

If this occurs after you have already met Kakucho and worse, Izana, then no doubt that Rindo would immediately agree to being your boyfriend the moment you bring it up. No questions asked. Sure the mere thought of being your boyfriend would bring a blush to his face and he can barely speak without stammering about how you were being so stupid right now, but he knows that allowing you to say that you had a boyfriend and that you were dating him would help to fend off unwanted attention.

He will no doubt start to work on fear-mongering you into thinking that he was doing you an absolute favor because did you know how bad it is to have a boyfriend?? And whoever told you otherwise is lying, especially Izana, though he only says this out of earshot. And hopefully you don't repeat this to the Tenjiku gang leader because god only knows how many beatings he would get in retaliation.

Absolutely worth it though, if you reject any and all other advances, because you can't keep yourself safe even if life on earth depends on it, and Rindo can't trust you with drinking from a straw if he isn't watching.

But at the same time, this baby boy becomes just so shy about doing anything with you and even more self-conscious. What if other people get the wrong idea about what you mean to him? What if people stop seeing him as a delinquent but see him as some mush? So he switches to holding your hand in private, or where people can't watch because of the implications, but Rindo quickly caves when you start pouting.

‎

Ran no doubt would absolutely encourage your behavior the moment he finds out, and he will because you simply can't keep your mouth shut. This poor older brother not only will enjoy the free real estate of laughs and wiggling eyebrows at his younger brother, but also the peace and quiet of Rindo having some sort of security over you. No more late nights of being awaken by Rindo storming over to your place early in the morning, or being dragged out of bed by another suspicious post on social media.

Rindo's obsession with you has been so obvious from the start that Ran doesn't know why he hasn't just upgraded himself from the start, but honestly he'll be rich before he can mind-read what goes through Rindo's head. Ran would definitely be the sort to take the opportunity not only to pester and annoy Rindo with innuendos and seemingly harmless questions about marriage, but also go behind the poor boy's back to plant the same questions on you to ask your bestfriend.

[hey-august]

WC: ~680 (these keep getting longer...) Warnings: NSFWish, MDNI, Buggy x GN!reader, roleplay - teacher and student, buggy pls i am so sorry

This failure comes to you from the March Madness Week 3 results! Check out the full event here.

You sat at the captain’s desk, heart pounding louder than the scratch of pen against paper. Aimless doodles filled the paper. Anticipation from waiting had your mind bouncing forwards and backwards, thinking about what was to come and waiting for the moment to start.

Shifting in the wooden seat, you tried to find a position that was comfortable and polite. You settled for rolling your hips to gain some extra sensations before sitting properly, rather than spreading your legs wide and shoving a hand in your underwear.

Footsteps approached the room and the door creaked open. Buggy stepped in and closed the door behind him. He walked towards you, rolling up the sleeves of the white button-down shirt he wore for the occasion. You set down the pen and crossed your hands on the half-filled paper as he got closer. Buggy leaned over you, the low ponytail dangling over his shoulder swaying with the movement.

“Still working on the assignment?” he asked in a low, authoritative voice that increased the heartbeat between your legs.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, shuffling the paper prop to angle towards him.

“Mm?”

“Teacher- yes, teacher.” The correction flew out of your mouth at the disappointment in his voice.

“That’s better. It’s a good thing you’re a fast learner,” he said through a shadow of a smile. 

A large hand patted the top of your head alongside the compliment. You breathed in slowly, trying to hold in the sounds that wanted to escape as you imagined his hand sliding back to pull your head back with your hair.

Channeling that desire, you turned to face the pseudo scholar with your own smile. “Only because I have a great teacher.”

Buggy’s hand slid down, fingers dragging along your cheek, until he could pinch your chin. “Flattery will not get you far,” he said coolly.

A chill ran through your body, creating goosebumps in its wake, and leaving behind an opposing, searing heat.

“What else should I do?” The question came out in a soft whisper, partly due to the hold on your chin, as well as your nervous hope about the answer.

Buggy crouched down, bringing himself slightly lower than you. His thumb moved slightly, barely grazing your bottom lip.

“As your teacher, I should tell you to study more. Use your mind. But maybe we can work out a way for you to use your body…”

You give the smallest nod, afraid of pulling free from his touch.

“Chemistry is your weakest subject,” he continued, bringing back the heavy disappointment in his voice, “but I do have a solution. If you listen to me and do everything your teacher says, maybe we can create a different reaction.”

“Chemistry,” you repeated, your eyes darting across his face, trying to read his expression.

“Mmhmm.” Buggy nodded, missing the change in your expression. The change in your desire.

Playing pretend is fun. It’s enjoyable acting like someone different and making choices that you might not make normally. The downside is that your alter-ego isn’t always the only voice that joins the party. Sometimes another, more chaotic, voice tags along. 

Your disruptive voice showed up with a cry - this wasn’t the right subject. It shouldn’t be chemistry.

“I thought this was clown school.”

Silence.

No one breathed.

In the quiet, the voice in your head spoke again. It repeated one word twice. 

You reached for Buggy’s nose, intent on recreating the onomatopoeia you heard in your head. The hold on your chin lifted as the clown slapped your hand away. 

Buggy looked equal parts shocked and pissed. He glared at you, mulling over what you said. After a moment, he licked his lips and swallowed. Then he nodded.

“Alright. Alright! If you want me to teach you a lesson, it’s gonna be one you won’t forget,” he said gruffly. 

A floating hand grabbed your arm and maneuvered you into position. Listening to the clink of his belt, you thought that it would take a lot to get him to try and roleplay like this again. But feeling his rough grip on your hips, you decided it was worth it.