#and talking about the figures he made as a kid

[rosemaryhoney27]

Ghosts, Bats, and a Jealous Witch

**Title: **Ghosts, Bats, and a Jealous Witch

Danny Fenton never thought he’d end up dating a vigilante. Sure, he’d fought alongside heroes before, but being romantically involved with one? That was new territory. And yet, here he was—standing on top of Gotham’s skyline with Cassandra Cain, better known as Black Bat, holding his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ever since meeting Cass on a Justice League mission, they’d hit it off in an unexpected way. Danny admired her strength, her quiet intensity, and the way she could read people better than anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t talk much, but she didn’t need to. When she looked at him, he felt understood in a way no one else—not even Sam or Tucker—had ever made him feel.

Sam.

That was the problem.

Danny had expected his best friends to be happy for him. Tucker was cool with it, more amused than anything. But Sam? She was fuming.

“I don’t get it,” she had said the first time she saw him with Cass. “You’re telling me you, Danny Fenton, Ghost Boy, went all the way to Gotham and came back with a girlfriend? And she’s part of the Bat family?” Her voice had dripped with disbelief and something else—something darker. “What happened to ‘not dating superheroes’? What happened to being normal?”

Danny had laughed it off at first, assuming Sam was just being protective. But over time, her attitude soured. She became passive-aggressive, throwing little barbs at Cass whenever she was around.

“You don’t even talk,” Sam had scoffed once, crossing her arms. “What do you two even do together?”

Cass had merely tilted her head, unreadable as ever, before looking at Danny. “I like him. He likes me. Simple.”

Sam had huffed in irritation and stormed off.

It wasn’t until she started trying to sabotage their relationship that Danny had enough. The final straw was when Sam tried to get Tucker to hack the Batcomputer to dig up dirt on Cass’s past. That was when Danny snapped.

“You need to stop,” he had told Sam firmly, eyes glowing green with barely restrained anger. “I don’t know if you’re jealous or if you just don’t like me being happy with someone else, but you’re being toxic. I won’t let you ruin this for me.”

Sam had stared at him, mouth open in shock, but Danny had already turned away. That was the day he realized their friendship might not survive this.

Of course, dating someone from the Bat family came with its own problems.

Cass’s family was… overprotective, to say the least.

“You’re dating a ghost,” Jason Todd had deadpanned when he first found out. “That’s somehow the least weird thing to happen in this family.”

Bruce, ever the brooding father figure, had run Danny through every possible background check known to man. Alfred, while polite, made it very clear that he would not tolerate any supernatural nonsense in the Wayne household.

Damian had tried to challenge Danny to a duel. Danny had humored him, letting the kid think he had the upper hand before phasing through the ground and appearing behind him.

“You fight well,” Damian had admitted begrudgingly. “For a ghost.”

Then there was Barbara, who had grilled Danny about his intentions for Cass as if he were under FBI interrogation. Stephanie had just winked at Cass and told her to “have fun with the hot ghost boy.”

And then there was Tim.

Tim Drake had, in true detective fashion, locked eyes with Danny and said, “If you break her heart, I will find a way to exorcise you.”

Danny had gulped.

Despite the Bat family’s initial hesitation, they eventually warmed up to him (or at least tolerated him). Cass was happy, and that was all that mattered.

As for Sam? Well�� she had made her choice. And Danny had made his.

“Ready?” Cass asked, standing on the edge of a rooftop, waiting for him to join her.

Danny smiled, taking her hand before they leapt into the Gotham night. “Always.”

[elliewrites77]

Uncle!Sukuna Part 5

Uncle!Sukuna who was annoyed that he hadn't been able to see you much since your date. Over the weekend, there had been an issue at his bar that required his full attention. He had practically been there for a full 48 hours, having left Yuji with you. Other then messaging you the little he could, he hadn't been able to talk to you much.

He was a little nervous to, honestly. The last thing you had done was kiss before he did the gentleman thing and went to his own house. But the longer you guys went not talking about it, not discussing what this meant for you both, the more anxious he felt. He hated these new feelings, how vulnerable they made him feel. He hated how he was already, in a matter of days, missing your smile, the way you smiled when Yuji and Choso started bickering about who the best superhero was and why, the way you laugh when Sukuna said some stupid joke or lighthearted insult, the way you got soft and gentle when one of the boys got hurt playing. He hated how badly he wanted to see you again, to kiss you. He hated that he had only kissed you once but could already tell he was addicted. He hated what you were doing to him, because whatever it was felt amazing in a way he never knew what he was missing out on before you.

Uncle!Sukuna who is back at home the Monday after valentines. You were already at work, the boys at school, so he finds himself sleeping through the day, before waking up to his front door opening and the loud sound of hurried footsteps.

He sits up in bed, a bit groggy, right as his bedroom door is thrown open. A little figure launches itself into his lap. He grunts before looking down at the little boy who looks so much like himself.

"Get off, brat." He grunts. He makes no move to make the boy listen though.

"You're back! We saw your car in the 'way. You've been gone for sooo long." Yuji pouted, which didn't suit his usually smiling face. Sukuna pitches Yuji's cheek while rolling his eyes.

"It was only two days, twerp." He looks at Choso, standing in the open doorway.

Sukuna had gotten a bit closer with the boy over the past few weeks, but he was still a bit shy and awkward, like now. It was clear the older kid didn't know what to due with himself while in Sukuna's space.

"Where's your mom?"

Choso glances down the hall from the direction they had come.

"In the kitchen, I think. She brought you dinner, we ate out today."

Uncle!Sukuna who stands up, throwing Yuji over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The boy laughs like it's a ride, gripping Sukuna's shirt for extra stability. The man walks towards Choso, ruffling his dark hair in fondness, before leading them towards the kitchen.

He stops when he sees you, looking over some papers you must have brought while sitting at his kitchen island. The way you're so relaxed, doing something so simple as that, but so fitting in his home, it makes his heart beat irregulate.

Sukuna sets Yuji down before approaching you. At the sound of their footsteps, you turn. He swears his heart stops for a moment when you give him a bright smile, looking at him with some emotion he didn't quite understand yet but knew it might be his undoing.

He greets you, a little awkward since he's not sure where you two stand. He wants to kiss you, like a husband would kiss his wife after a long day, but doesn't know if you would want that too. Plus, with the boys in the same room, he knows it isn't the best idea. So he settles for a nod and gruff hey before you point out the food you had brought for him.

Uncle!Sukuna who likes it when you and the boys sit with him at the dining table. Despite having eaten, the three of you join him to chat while he eats. Yuji tells him about his weekend and school, with you and Choso chiming in every so often. Eventually, though, the boys get bored and run off to Yuji's room.

Once alone, he almost wants to ask if he's been on your mind as much as you've been on his, if that kiss and date meant the same for you that it did him. But before he can even try to, you ask him about work and the emergency he had to take care of. He tells you about it, not going too deep into the boring details.

You two talk for a while, about nothing special. There's a tension there, not necessarily negative, but still. It's clear that both of you want to say something, but are apparently too scared to do so.

But Sukuna doesn't want to be a coward. He doesn't want to keep pushing this to the side, telling himself he'll bring it up later. There was no better time like the present.

He opens his mouth, starting to say your name when the sound of shattering glass gets both of your attentions. On autopilot, you both stand and quickly make your way to the hall. Reaching Yuji's room, you look inside to see Choso standing with a small pile of glass at his feet, holding his hand with a pained look while Yuji stands nearby, looking a little scared.

Both of you rush towards the older boy, but Sukuna beats you to him. He picks your son up under his armpits, holding him as if he weighed nothing, and carrying him a safe distance away from the glass. You guide Yuji around it as well before joining Sukuna to kneel in front of Choso. As the man looks at the small cut on Choso's finger, you make sure your son was okay.

"Cho, baby, what happened?"

Choso avoids looking at Sukuna directly. Knowing your son, you knew he was afraid the man would be mad.

"Honey, I'm sure it was an accident. Sukuna won't be upset, just tell us." You tried to reassure, glancing at the man next to you, hoping that you were correct. He focuses on getting the glass out of Choso's finger.

"Yuji was showing me a picture of his mom and dad. He asked me to get it out of the frame so he could add it to his project, but when I tried to the glass cut me and I dropped it." He explained in a small voice. You rubbed his cheek lovingly,

Sukana hardly reacted at the mention of the photo. He knew Yuji had it, of course. He even knew his nephew would sometimes talk to it, as if talking to his parents for real. It made his chest hurt in a weird way, but he knew the grieving process wouldn't be easy.

But his lack of reaction makes Choso worry slightly.

"I'm sorry, Sukuna. I should've brought it to you."

Sukuna looked up, staring at the boy with an indifferent expression.

"Nah brat, Yuji should've brought it to me. But it's fine either way, just be more careful next time. Don't need either of you getting hurt." he says, standing. He looks to his nephew, who looks a little shy after hearing his own name. Shaking his head, he pats the kids head in a silent effort to show Yuji it was okay, that he wasn't mad.

You stood too, giving Sukuna he favorite smile, soft and fond, before taking your sons good hand.

"Where's your first aid kit?" You asked. Sukuna stared at you for a long second.

Yes, he had one. But he had only bought one at the insistence of Yuji's former social worker, and couldn't remember at all where it was. So he stood there, wracking his brain to try and remember. You watched him, getting confused the longer he went without answering.

"Oh! I have it, Uncle Kuna put it in my backpack." Yuji suddenly exclaims, grabbing said bag and opening it up. Sukuna furrows his brow, unable to recall doing such a thing. But when he sees Yuji pull out a small, mobile first aid kit (really just a box of spiderman band aids and antibiotic ointment), he remembers doing it after the first week of school, when Yuji came home with multiple small wounds from rough play.

You smile again, taking the box and walking off with Choso to the bathroom down the hall. Once you're gone, Sukuna glances between Yuji and the pile of glass, which he now sees is laying over a picture of his brother and his sister-in-law holding a baby Yuji with large grins. Even Yuji is grinning in the photo.

Uncle!Sukuna who picks the picture up, careful of the glass. He examines it for a moment. Looking at it now, seeing the smiling face of his brother, he can't help but wish he had done more to stay in touch. He wished he had gotten the chance to have a better relationship with Jin, be a better brother than what he was.

Uncle!Sukuna who looks at Yuji, and in that moment, promises himself that he would be a better uncle. He might not get his brother back, might not ever be able to make up for the lack of relationship between them, but he would do better with Yuji. He would be more involved, more active in his life. He was a shit brother, sure, but he vowed to be a great ass Uncle.

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Uncle!Sukuna who still drives you and the boys to school/work, despite you insisting that he didn't have to bother. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he enjoyed spending the mornings with you. So despite it being his week off, he wants to drive you. Plus, it wouldn't be fair to you to just expect you to be responsible for Yuji that often. So he still does it, using the drive home to try and think of the best way to ask you out again. He hadn't had the chance to speak to you, alone, about anything between you yet, mostly because he's been busy trying to help Yuji with a class project.

Turns out, he had wanted to add a picture of his parents to a project of 'people you admire' (Sukuna had to take a moment when he saw his own picture already on the poster, Yuji got extra ice cream that night). So he had spent most of the week helping with that. So far Yuji had pictures of Sukuna, his parents, you, Choso, spiderman, his friends Megumi and Nobara, and Jennifer Lawrence (Sukuna was pretty sure the brat had a crush on the actress, though he wouldn't admit it).

But since it was almost the end of the week, he had a plan. He would have to find alternative child care, since Toji refused to babysit the boys overnight again. Something about how those three together was a recipe for disaster. But other than that, he had everything thought out perfectly.

Uncle!Sukuna who gets a call from the school, that same day, a few hours later. He's surprised when he hears the voice from the lady in the front office, but even more surprised when she tells him that Yuji got into a fight. His 6 year old nephew, got into a fight.

Part of him was proud, but a new part of him was disappointed.

Uncle!Sukuna who made his way to the school once more. As soon as he got there, the secretary showed him to the principles office, where Yuji was sitting with his head down. The way he looked so small made Sukuna instantly glare at the principle, making the man shiver behind his desk.

Principle Yaga stands, nodding to Sukuna as a greeting before introducing himself. There's an awkward silence as Sukuna doesn't reply, simply remains glaring before gruffly asking what happened.

"It seems there was a conflict between Yuji and another student during recess. The teachers say that the boys were playing, when the other student said something that seemed to upset your nephew. He lunged at the student, and from there, both were throwing punches." Yaga explains, sitting back down. Sukuna plops down in the chair next to Yuji, who's head remains down.

"What did he say?" Sukuna says, voice low.

"Excuse me?"

"What. Did. the kid. Say?"

Yaga glances at Yuji, before his gaze goes back to the man.

"He won't say. Neither will the other student, which is to be expected.

Sukuna remained silent for a minute, staring at the wooden desk in thought. It's awkward for a moment, especially for Yaga. Then, Sukuna looks to his nephew.

"They deserve it?"

His words shock Yaga, who's too stunned to reply. He watches as Yuji nods slightly, not lifting his head.

That's all that Sukuna needs to be ready to leave. So he stands, which makes Principle Yaga stammer. Before another word could be said, another knock on the office door is heard. Eyes turn to the door when it opens to reveal you.

"Principle Yaga, I'm sorry to interrupt. I've just spoke with Choso, and I thought it might be better if I handled this. Mr. Ryomen and I are familiar with each other, and the boys are close." You explained. Yaga smiled, professional and a little relieved as he nods. At his approval, you look to Sukuna.

Uncle!Sukuna who sees something in your eyes, something sad though you try to hide it. Your smile is clearly forced, even as Yuji finally stands and makes his way to you. He hugs himself into your waste for a moment, a hug that you return, before moving past you to stand near Choso in the hall.

You lead the three of them to your office, letting them inside and letting the boys sit on a small couch in the corner. Sukuna sits in the chair across from you, a frown on his face as soon as he notices the frown on yours.

"We already handled it. Yuji said the little shit deserved it." He says, needing to break the silence. You sigh, looking at the man.

"Did he tell you what the kid said?" You asked, glancing to the two quiet boys.

Sukuna shook his head, doing the same as you and taking a look at the boys.

"He said...something about Choso. Something that, I honestly can't say I would react differently at his age." You say, fatigue clear in your voice. Your words made Sukuna even more confused. "Yuji, please tell your Uncle what Toya said to you."

Yuji finally lifted his head, showing his bruising face and bandaged lip. Sukuna never would have imagined 6 year olds could fight like that.

"He...he said that Choso didn't have a dad because he wasn't good enough for one, because dads don't stay when their sons are too weak." He said, his voice as small as he looked. Next to him, Choso kept his head down, trying to stay strong.

Sukuna felt a fury he hadn't felt in a long time. Now he had always said he would never hurt a kid, but he couldn't deny that the idea of smacking this 'Toya' so hard his face looked worse then Yuji's sounded like a pretty good one.

While Sukuna is holding back rage, you're holding back tears. The cruel words said about your own son, they made you feel guilty.

"I..I appreciate you standing up for Choso, Yuji, and I'm sure he does too. But we can't handle bullying with violence. Not to mention that I don't want you getting hurt, and I'm sure Choso doesn't either." You spoke gently, though there was a firmness in your words that you had perfected throughout your job.

Sukuna stared at his nephew until the boy met his eyes. Sukuna hated seeing the bruises on his face. He hated seeing how small both boys looked, hated how he didn't know what to say to help. He wasn't fit for comfort, and all he could think to say would probably be a direct contrast to what you were trying to say. No violence? That's all he knew how to do when it comes solving problems, especially problems like this.

"You'll have to apologize to Toya, just like he will apologize to you. Then, Principle Yaga wants me to sit down with you...and your guardian...about the wrongs of fighting." You said after a minute of silence. Your hesitation was obvious, and Sukuna knew why.

He groaned, throwing his head back at your words. Even with you being the one giving this 'talk', it still sounds awful. You can't help but fight back a small smile at his groan, despite the situation. It doesn't last though, when you look back to your son.

Sukuna, after his little tantrum, followed your gaze. He saw how the 8 year old was curled up, as if hiding himself from the world. He couldn't tell if this was due to what was said about him, or due to the fact that Yuji had gotten hurt for him. Choso had become a little protective of his younger friend, doing what he could to keep Yuji from harm. So you could imagine how upsetting it must be for the kid to watch Yuji get beat up over him.

Before you could even figure out what to say, at least that you haven't already, you're surprised by Sukuna's words,

"Y'not weak kid, especially not cause some asshat left you and your mom. If anyone is weak, it's the deadbeat who couldn't handle something good."

Choso shared your sentiment of surprise, finally looking up to stare at him with widened eyes. Not longer after, they softened with appreciation, a small smile coming to his face. He was still sad, that was clear, but Sukuna's words, plus the fact that the man wouldn't say anything he didn't mean especially on his own accord, helped him feel a little better.

Seeing Choso smile encouraged Yuji to as well. Even though it wasn't his usual bright grin, you and Sukuna still saw his joy. You knew this didn't resolve the issue, not really, and that you'd have to have a conversation about Choso's dad soon, as well as follow up with the 'punishment' for Yuji (and Sukuna apparently). But you let the four of you have a moment of reprieve.

Uncle!Sukuna who stops by to get food on the way home, his effort to cheer up the boys more, though he says it's because he's hungry and this whole 'issue' stopped him from having lunch.

As you all sit in his car at the fast food restaurant parking lot, talking to the boys (who are feeling a lot better with their shakes) and making jokes, you take a moment to look at Sukuna. You admire his grin after throwing a fry at Yuji, the ways his eyes light up when messing around with the boys, how he talks to Choso as if he was...something more than a neighbor and friend. And he was, he was so much more.

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thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this series! I am truly grateful for all the love it's gotten. Please lmk what you think, I really do appreciate any constructive criticism. I want to create something people enjoy, within my creative control at least, so letting me know if I'm including something you don't like, or doing something like rambling too much, anything like that, helps me do better!

I hope everyone has a lovely day and weekend (it's friday for me), and I'm sending virtual hugs to everyone who's be so so supportive <33

once again, barely proofread.

[nakylvr]

— LOSER

sophia laforteza x fem!reader

synopsis જ⁀➴ after your encounter with sophia the previous night, you think it won't happen again. that is, until she finds you again, and asks a question you haven't heard in a long time.

warnings/tags જ⁀➴ language

wc જ⁀➴ 3,4 k

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hi! i'm back with this! i'm so sorry it took so long 😓 but we're back and running! i have updated everyone who wanted to be added to the taglist which is still open!

“WHAT?!”

“Dani, calm dow-”

“How am I supposed to calm down?!”

“It's nothing, really-”

“She walked you here and gave you her umbrella!???”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temples as Daniela sits in her bed across from you in yours. You had just made the mistake of telling her what happened last night when Sophia walked you back to the dorms and gave you the umbrella. You expected this reaction, honestly. But it was a lot for just waking up at ten in the morning

“Yes, she walked me back and gave me her umbrella,” You say slowly so she understands. “It's not that big of a deal.”

“Obviously it is!” Daniela jumps to her feet. “She has never even taken a glance in our direction and now all of a sudden she is trying to talk to you? It's a big deal, Yn!”

“No, it's not!” You groan, falling backward onto your bed.

“Why did you even agree to her walking you back?” Daniela questions, her arms crossed over her chest.

You hesitate before answering. “I don't know,” You mumble.

“Don't lie to me, Yn,” Daniela tells you.

“I just…” You sigh again, sitting up to look at your friend. “I guess…I just wanted to see what would happen if I said yes. She seemed genuine so I let her,” You admit, fiddling with your hands anxiously.

Daniela tries not to sigh at your response. She figured that would be a reason, but she didn't think you would actually agree for Sophia Laforteza to walk you across the campus. “Did anyone see you two?” She asks.

You shake your head, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “I don't think so. It was raining pretty bad so I doubt anyone would’ve been able to see.”

“Well, that's good,” Daniela nods. “You know what’ll happen if people find out she's talking to you.”

“Yeah,” You acknowledge, nodding your head. “It's probably the only time it’ll happen, so I’m not going to stress on it.”

“Let's try to keep it that way. I don't need to lose my best friend to some petty popular rich girl,” Daniela says, sitting next to you on your bed and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I love you a shit ton, Yn. I don't want you getting hurt if she does talk to you again. Promise me you'll at least be safe?”

“You won't lose me, Dani,” You reply, leaning your head against her shoulder. “But, I promise. Trust me, I seriously don't think anything will happen. She was probably just being nice.”

“Yeah, nice,” Daniela mutters but you don't hear it.

…

Earlier that morning, Intak was practicing with the soccer team. Now, despite being the best center the team has seen in years, Intak didn't get along well with his teammates. They were basically dumb popular jocks, and they essentially shunned him after he denied wanting to hang out with the popular kids, wanting to hang out with you guys instead. He didn't mind it, though. The guys were assholes anyway.

He kicked the ball into the goal when he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see one of his teammates.

“Yo, Sophia’s asking for you. Dunno why, just don't be a loser,” The teammate tells Intak.

“Sophia?” Intak tilts his head to the side before looking over to the bleachers and seeing Sophia standing at the edge of the field. “Yeah, uh, okay.” He says before jogging over to the girl.

“Intak!” Sophia smiles when he reaches her. “Sorry if I interrupted.”

“No, you-you're good!” Intak responds, running his hand through his sweaty hair. He is confused about why she's talking to him, and that she even knows his name. But, he isn't going to say that. “So, uh, what did you wanna talk to me about?” He asks her.

“Well,” Sophia clasps her hands together. “I wanted to ask about Yn.” She smiles at him.

“Huh?” Intak lets out, looking at the girl with confusion. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Sophia answers. “You're always around her so I figured you might know something about her that no one else does.”

Intak is growing more and more confused the more Sophia says, and it's evident in the way his eyebrows are furrowed together. “Okay…” His voice trails off. “You're not planning on doing something bad, are you? Because Dani and I will kick your ass if you even try to,” He says firmly, pointing at the girl.

“What?! No! No, no!” Sophia quickly shakes her head. “I’m just– I want to get to know her, is all.”

Intak eyes her for a moment, attempting to see if she's lying or not. It's hard to tell, but he nods his head slowly. “Okay. What do you wanna know?” He asks hesitantly.

Sophia smiles again at his question. “Just the basics,” She replies.

Intak nods again, glancing back at his teammates seemingly not caring that he's talking to Sophia before looking back at her. “Sure,” He says.

After talking with Sophia during the remainder of practice, Intak was walking through the halls while texting the group chat as he drank his water. He had yet to say he talked to Sophia, knowing the reaction he would get out of you all. He figured it’d be better to say it in person.

He did end up telling Sophia what she wanted to know, just some basic random things about you like your favorite color, food, what classes you were in, and stuff like that. He thought it was weird, but he was too nice to say no when she told him she would help him get back on good terms with his team. She was probably lying, but then again, maybe it was good for you to make some new friends. He wanted new friends too, but he loved you guys too much to try and become friends with others. Especially when your group was already labeled as the “loser group”.

Intak stopped abruptly when he read the message you sent to the group chat. Explaining what happened with Sophia last night and it clicked in his brain. “Oh my god,” He mumbles to himself. He types a response on his phone before calling you, which you pick up immediately.

“Intak, don't freak-”

“Yn, what the shit?!” Intak whisper-yells into the phone as he starts to walk again.

“Look, I already dealt with this with Dani, so please don't make a big deal out of this.”

“How do I not?!” Intak says, looking around to not bump into anyone.

“By not freaking out!”

“This is a big deal, Yn!” Intak retorts. “You don- You don’t understand! Sophia was just at my practice asking random ass questions about you!”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Just meet me at the bleachers, I’m going to find Hoon and bring him with. Try to find Dani if you can,” Intak tells you, turning a corner to go where Sunghoon’s dorm was. “I really don’t like this, Yn.”

“You all need to stop worrying, it’s not that big of a deal. You’re all blowing this way out of proportion. But, whatever. I’ll see you at the bleachers, I guess.”

“Thank yo-” Intak can get out before you hang up the phone. He pulls the phone away from his ear and lets out a sigh, continuing to walk to the dorms.

…

Sunghoon laid on his bed, or, what he thought was his bed. It was nearing ten a.m. when the sun peeked through the blinds causing his eyes to open groggily. He lifted his head off the pillow and grabbed his glasses, putting them on and looking to his side. His eyes went wide at the sight.

“Fuck,” He whispered to himself.

Quietly but quickly, Sunghoon got out of the bed and started searching for his clothes in the dorm room he had only been in twice before. He put his shirt on backwards accidentally, almost tripping over his pants before slipping on his shoes. He looked over to the other male in the bed when he heard movement, quietly grabbing his bag before exiting the room as quickly as possible. He glanced around to see if anyone was around before scurrying off to whatever class he was supposed to be in.

Sunghoon hurried down the hallway when suddenly he was grabbed by the back — or rather, the front of his shirt, halting him in his tracks. He let out a yelp before realizing it was Intak. “What the heck, Intak?” He grumbled.

“Your shirt’s on backwards,” Intak tells him, letting go and walking to stand in front of him. “Whose dorm were you just in?”

“What?” Sunghoon questions as he pulls his shirt to see the tag in front of his chest. “I was in my dorm.” He lies.

“Then why didn't you answer any of the group chat texts?” Intak inquires, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was studying with Yn. You know how midterms are. I slept in for once, sue me,” Sunghoon lies again. “She and I actually study.”

Intak’s eyes narrow, catching the lie. “That's funny. Because Yn just told the group chat that she went straight to the dorms after her last class and that Sophia Laforteza walked her back.”

Sunghoon tenses up at Intak’s response. He was caught in his lie and found out you talked to Sophia again. “She what?” He lets out. “Why?”

“Who were you with?” Intak counters.

“Why does it matter?” Sunghoon retaliates. “I’m not allowed to have other friends?”

“You don't have other friends, Hoon,” Intak tells him. “We both know that.”

Sunghoon shifts on his feet, clearly anxious as he tries to come up with a response. “I was with someone, yes,” He acknowledges. “But, that's not important. Why is Sophia talking to Yn?”

“Dunno,” Intak shrugs. “C’mon, we’re heading to the bleachers to talk about it.”

“Wh- I have a class I’m supposed to be in,” Sunghoon responds.

Intak rolls his eyes at his friend’s words. “Dude, who gives a damn? C’mon,” He says, grabbing Sunghoon’s arm and starting to drag him down the halls.

“What the- Intak, you can’t just- Whatever,” Sunghoon tries, but knows his words will fall deaf on Intak’s ears. He lets the other male drag him to the bleachers, where the group normally went to sit and talk when on campus grounds.

Once they got to the bleachers, you were sitting there with Daniela talking. Looking in the boys’ direction, you raise an eyebrow when you see Sunghoon’s shirt.

“You know your shirt is on backwards, Hoon?” You ask him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Sunghoon nods, putting his bag down and sitting down next to you. “What happened? I haven’t had a chance to read the messages,” He says, taking his glasses off and cleaning them with his shirt before putting them back on.

“Well!” Daniela speaks up before you. “Our lovely Yn here apparently had Sophia talk to her again. And walked her back to the dorm. And gave her some fucking umbrella.”

You reach your hand over to Daniela’s which was balled into a fist, resting on top of it while looking at Sunghoon who was staring back in confusion.

“She what?” He lets out, confused. “Why?”

“That's what we're trying to figure out,” Daniela tells him.

“Guys, I seriously don't think it's that big of a deal!” You sigh loudly.

“Well, it’s odd, you have to admit,” Sunghoon says. “For someone who has never looked in our direction before, don’t you think it’s a little odd that suddenly she’s speaking to you?”

“Well–” You start.

“She also asked me a bunch of random shit about you!” Intak interrupts.

“What?” Daniela and Sunghoon both look at Intak.

“Yeah!” The boy nods quickly. “It was super weird, how did she even know I was on the team? Let alone that practice was today?!”

“See! More weird things!” Daniela exclaims, swinging around her hand that wasn’t being held by you. “This doesn’t make any sense!’

“You’re overthinking it!” You stand up abruptly, letting go of Daniela’s hand. The three all look at you with wide eyes, going silent at your sudden outburst. “For the first time since we came to this school, someone has shown a little bit of interest in me! And instead of being supportive friends, you think it’s some kind of lie or something!”

“Yn–”

“No! I’m not going to listen to this shit anymore!” You cut off Daniela, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You guys really suck sometimes.” You shake your head and start stomping away.

“Shit, Yn!” Daniela starts to get up but stops when Sunghoon puts his hand on her shoulder.

“Let her go,” He tells her. “She needs some time.”

“Whatever.” Daniela smacks his hand off her shoulder. “I still don't like this.”

“Me either!” Intak groans dramatically. “It's only going to end bad.”

“Drop it.” Sunghoon snaps at the two, making them look at him with surprise. “Like she said, we should be supportive of someone talking to Yn, even if it is Sophia. We shouldn't interfere if she doesn't want us to. Okay?” He glances between the two.

“Okay,” Intak says with a nod.

“That means you too, Dani.” Sunghoon looks at the blonde. “You're on thin ice already where you are. Don't fuck it up.”

“Okay,” Daniela grumbles under her breath.

…

Walking down the hallway with your earbuds playing music, you find yourself where you always end up – the empty music room.

Closing the door behind you, you take one of your earbuds out, letting it hang by the cord as you set your things down on one of the small tables. Sitting down, you pull out your notebook and pen from your bag, setting them down in front of you. You flip through the first few pages before stopping on a page.

For the past few months you’d been working on different songs, and thankfully with the school having a recording studio, you could actually get somewhere with it. You have nine finished songs that just need to be recorded, and one last one you were still struggling with writing the lyrics for. It was rare for you to get stuck once you got started, but as you reread the words on the page, you still couldn’t come up with anything.

Despite doing it solely for fun, it was stressful at the same time. At least, right now it was. You tap the pen on the table while continuing to gaze at the words, nothing coming up in your mind of what to write the chorus. All you had done was the first verse, and you had no idea where it was going.

“God…” You groan, resting your head on the notebook.

“Struggling?”

You jump at the voice, sitting up and quickly closing your notebook, and turning your head to see Sophia standing there. “How long were you standing there?” You ask.

“Just now,” Sophia answers. “Didn't mean to scare you like last time.” She smiles sheepishly.

“It's fine,” You mumble. “Are you stalking me or something? How did you know I was here?”

“Coincidence?” Sophia says. “I saw you storming away from the bleachers and followed you.”

One of your eyebrows raises at this. “Why?”

“Well, you looked upset,” She shrugs. “I expected you to be here of all places anyway.”

“Well you found me,” You wave your arms up before they land back at your sides. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” Sophia takes a few steps towards you.

You couldn't lie, you were curious now. What did she want to ask you? And why was she asking it now, when you were alone? “Okay…” Your voice trails off. “Spit it out.”

“There's a party my friend is hosting this weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to come?”

What?

You stare at the girl for a few moments, blinking occasionally trying to process her words. “I’m sorry, you want me to what?” You finally say, looking at her with confusion.

“You don't have to say yes,” Sophia is quick to say once seeing the look on your face. “I just thought maybe you’d want to go with me.”

What.

Your lips are parted in surprise at her words, struggling to figure out a response. While you hate parties and haven't been to one since you were in high school, part of you wants to say yes. “What do you mean by with you?” You question, needing a real confirmation before you answer.

“It's a plus one kinda thing,” Sophia replies. “He doesn't like too many people showing up, it causes too many problems.” She pauses for a second before continuing. “You’d be with me the whole time, and I promise nothing will happen to you.”

You try to hide the shock you're in, but it is evident with your wide eyes as she continues talking. She says it like it's nothing, like it's the truth. And it has you believing it is.

“When is this party?” You ask.

Sophia’s smile turns into a grin at your question. “This Saturday.”

Nodding your head, you pick up your notebook and put it back in your bag, zipping it up and putting it on your shoulder. You walk up to Sophia, standing in front of her close enough that she can see the barely noticeable smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “Give me your phone,” You say.

Sophia doesn't ask why or say anything, pulling her phone out and handing it over to you. You open the contacts and put your number in before handing the phone back to her. “Then you'll text me just to confirm, right?”

Sophia takes her phone back and nods her head, surprised by your actions but trying not to show it. “Yeah,” She says. “Yeah, I will.”

“I’ll be waiting, Laforteza.” You start walking out of the room, leaving Sophia standing there with her phone still in her hands like an idiot.

That was easier than she expected it to be. And it wouldn't have been if not for the mini argument with your friends minutes prior. But, then why was Sophia’s heart beating incredibly fast? Why did she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding when you left the room? Why was she surprised by your actions?

…

“Where the hell is she?”

“Doing what you told her to do.”

“Well, it shouldn't take this long!”

“Maybe she has to convince her. It would probably take a while.”

“I can hear you talking about me from a mile away,” Sophia pops up behind the group, making them all jump.

“Jesus, Soph!” Jay sighs loudly. “What the fuck?”

“What? It's not my fault you talk loud.” The Filipina shrugs, sitting down next to him at the table.

“Well, did you ask her?” He asks, putting his phone down.

“I did.” Sophia nods. “And she said yes.”

“Really?” The three let out, looking at Sophia with surprise.

“Did you bribe her?” Lara asks.

“No.” Sophia shakes her head. “I didn't even have to convince her!”

“Wow,” Manon lets out. “That's a shocker.”

“Totally,” Jay agrees.

“But, that means whatever you’re doing is working.”

“Yeah, which is a good thing.” Lara nods. “I mean, it’s like you said, how could anyone resist you?”

“Right,” Sophia responds, nodding her head.

While the three talked, Sophia zoned out for a few minutes. The plan was working, but she didn’t even really know what she was doing for it to work. She had caught herself hesitant to even enter the music room when she saw you storming off inside, and that was new. Sophia never hesitated for anything. She knew what she wanted, she did what she wanted, and she would get what she wanted. But, she didn’t know what she wanted. That was a first. She was well put together and didn’t have issues with a lot of things. But, this was already steering in a different direction just by your actions. She didn’t know what to do about it.

“Sophia, are you listening?”

“What?” Sophia looks over at the three.

“We need you to buy booze for the party, can you do that?” Manon asks.

“Yeah, sure.” Sophia nods.

“Cool, it’s gonna be a real banger,” Jay smiles.

Sophia just nods again, a fake smile on her face as she listens to them start talking again, her mind wandering to different things.

This wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought.

taglist (open!) :

@zhivaxo ; @yeetaberry127 ; @ourlovesarang ; @ponyojoo ; @jeindall777 ; @falling-intoo-deep ; @mcuppidz ; @baelabong ; @miyanok ; @jellaaa ; @winieter ; @artrizzler19 ; @starstruckgoateepuppy ; @pminjucaptor ; @dismaldiary ; @sixflame438 ; @hwonnrinji ; @gtfoiydlyj ; @lafortezalover ; @sunshinez4 ; @greenniee ;

[astars-things]

Positive Pt 3

*photos are from Pinterest I do not own them

please do not copy and or upload my work as your own

(Pairing- Jack Hughes x Sister!Reader, Quinn Hughes x Sister!Reader, Luke Hughes x Sister!Reader)

word count- 830

~Jacks Pov~

The silence in my apartment was suffocating. Luke was barely talking to me. No texts from Quinn. Even my parents were barely speaking to me. I knew why. I fucked up.

At first, I told myself I was right to be mad. That Y/N had been reckless. That she was throwing her future away. That her pregnancy would be a distraction for all of us. But the more time passed, the more I realized I had let my anger consume me.

And now?

Luke was ignoring me. Quinn wouldn’t even look at me when we crossed paths on the ice. My parents were disappointed. That word hurt more than I expected.

So, after another day of feeling like complete shit, I made a decision.

I walked into my coach’s office and shut the door behind me.

"I need some personal leave," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "Is everything okay?" I hesitated before nodding. " I just need to handle something with my family."

And with that, I booked a flight to Michigan

I stood there for a second hesitating but soon I walked into the house, my parents giving me the look of disappointment that I deserved, I went to y/n room knocked on the door and stood there scared, I wasn’t sure if Y/N would even want to see me. Hell, if I were her, I wouldn’t.

She opened the door of her room, looking at me like she was unsure if it was really me Her eyes narrowed. "Jack, if you're here to call me a slut or tell me I'm ruining your career, just leave. Like my baby daddy did."

The words landed like a sucker punch to my gut, knocking the breath right out of me. I  deserved that. Every ounce of venom in her voice, every bit of anger in her eyes. I had been cruel, and selfish, and I knew it. "Y/N," I said, my throat tight. "Fuck. I didn’t come here for that."She crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw clenched. "Then why are you here?" I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet her gaze."To make things right."

she didn’t let me in right away. I could tell she was hesitant, like she was waiting for me to screw this up again. So instead, I asked, "Let me take you out for the day? Just us?"

After a long pause, she sighed. "Fine. But you’re paying."

We drove in silence at first, but little by little, the tension eased. I took her to a baby store first, mostly because I had no fucking clue what she needed, and I figured it was a safe start. Watching her run her fingers over tiny onesies and soft blankets made something twist in my chest. She was actually going to be a mom. And I had been too caught up in my own anger to be there for her. I stuck close, grabbing anything she so much as looked at and throwing it into the cart, ignoring her protests. "Jack, you don’t need to buy the entire store." But I did. I needed to make up for lost time.

Afterward, I took her out to eat—some diner she swore had the best fries in Michigan. We sat across from each other, her appetite finally catching up to her as she dipped fry after fry into her milkshake. For the first time in weeks, we just talked. She told me about morning sickness, how Quinn had been her rock, how Mom still made her tea every morning like she used to when we were kids. And I apologized—again and again. For abandoning her, for saying things I never should have, for not being the brother she needed. She didn’t forgive me right away, but I saw the way her shoulders loosened, the way she let herself smile just a little. And for now, that was enough. 

@HockeyInsider 🏒🔥 SPOTTED: Jack Hughes seen out shopping in Michigan with his younger sister Y/N Hughes after weeks of rumored family drama 👀 The two were seen at a baby store before grabbing food at a local diner. Sources say Jack was “super protective” and paid for everything. Could this be their way of making amends? Or is there something bigger going on? 👶🤔

View All 2,537 Comments

@.NJDDevilsFan88 Wait… baby store? Is she pregnant or just getting fat? 👀

@.HockeyDramaQueen Jack unfollowed her, and now they’re shopping for BABY stuff? Something is definitely up.

@.LukesGfInMyHead If she’s pregnant at 17, that’s actually embarrassing. And look at Jack trying to clean up her mess.

@.FutureNHLWife Y’all are so mean, what if she really is pregnant?? Let her live.

@.RangersSuck420This family has so much drama it’s insane lmao.

Y/n pov 

I stared at my phone, reading the comments, my stomach twisting. It was happening. The rumors, the questions, the speculation. I immediately called Quinn.

"What do I do?" I asked as soon as he picked up.

[demi-god77]

Rereading the convo between Mike and Holly and omg he's so obviously talking about Holly (The Heroic)

I bet he made her the dnd character and he's showing her like the figurine she later puts on a necklace or smth while he says this

Also he 100% doesn't know Mr. Whatsit is Vecna. I'm pretty sure he thinks it's just Holly being a kid and being scared of made up monsters (hence the "monsters aren't real Holly" line). Also like, there is no way Henry named himself that, it was probs Holly and her friends giving him that name.

Imo it's GLARINGLY obvious he's not talking about El here. The show has taken liberties before on the cleric class but this would make ZERO sense if he was referring to El, cause a) The cleric class does not correspond with El's powers in the slightest, b) She has already been assigned the mage, c) Why would he make Holly El's responsibility, when they aren't even together in the entire season and El has her own separate storyline, and d) Let's be so fr, she's in hiding. He wouldn't be announcing her powers everywhere, especially to a young kid who might tell someone else, which significantly heightens the risk of the military and/or the lab finding out.

I think most of us already figured that out, but I needed to make an actual post about it

[pineconepie]

Parental yandere mafia dad who kidnaps you takes you in <3

TW: Mentions of death, platonic yandere, forced age regression, infantilization

...

You know this is stupid, but you have no choice in the matter.

The worst thing is, its not even your fault you're in this situation. A family member made some horrible choices with a huge, well-known mob, and they died before they could pay off the debt they owe.

So, it falls on your shoulders now.

They said if you could do some favors for them, they'd let you live a peaceful life and never bother you again.

But either way, it seemed like death was almost inevitable.

"Hey person who has no experience with mob bosses and cartels, go gather intel on one of the world's most feared mob boss without getting caught! We're sure you'll do great!"

You're sure they're aware you probably won't turn up alive.

That's besides the point. You had a job to do.

And this is why you've found yourself here, entering a huge building with obnoxiously bright neon lights, the air smelling heavily of alcohol.

Its both a casino and nightclub, you figure, as you see a few gambling tables along with a large dance floor, and a bar in the far back. The ground is a little sticky beneath your shoes, and some weirdo bumps into you, clearly drunk.

The guy they asked you to gather information about is none other than Vincent Brewer. From what you've heard, he's ruthless, sadistic, fearless, and loves to flaunt his wealth and success.

His group, Cryo, dabbles in a little bit of everything.

Selling guns, manufacturing weapons, running casinos, killing those that piss them off... All things like that.

So of course, you're terrified out of your mind.

But you manage to make it past the bouncer and enter inside.

Its a nice place, despite all the crimes you're sure happened here. A lot cleaner than you'd expect for such an area.

Almost immediately, you see none other than Vincent himself.

He has short blond hair, hazel-green eyes, and a black suit with a trench coat draped over his shoulders.

He's smirking as he talks to what you presume are other members of Cryo. Vincent is pretty well-known for that smile. It's rare he ever drops it.

You wonder if its because he genuinely finds joy in anything and everything or because he feels the need to come off as tough or domineering. Knowing how much power he wields, it's probably both.

There's no time to stand and stare, though.

You approach, pretending to be one of them, but before you can back out and regret your decisions, he already has his eye on you. You feel like a rabbit trying to convince a den of wolves that you're one of them. And this is the biggest, meanest, hungriest wolf in the world.

"Well, hello," Vincent says. His smile doesn't leave his face, but softens a tiny bit. He looks you up and down. "I don't believe we've met. Are you new?"

Your hands are clammy and trembling, but you put on a fake smile and offer to shake his hand. "Yeah! I'm... (Y/n)." For a moment, you hesitate, considering maybe you should give a fake name just in case, but looks like it's too late for that.

Now that you think about it, you're definitely sure you were sent on a death-mission. Those people didn't even give you proper training.

"(Y/n), huh?" Vincent asks, shaking your hand. He's got a firm grip, as you expected. "Nice to meet you, kiddo. You seem a bit young to be one of my recruits, though." He brushes some hair out of your face, making you tense.

"I guess I look a bit younger than I am," you mutter. "I'm an adult, if that's what you're worried about."

He laughs at that. "Well, that's good! I'd hate to hear how a kid ended up with us!" Then he ruffles your hair, which is a bit embarrassing, but he seems so nice about it that it's not unbearable. "You're just a baby compared to almost everyone in this room. I think I'll need to tell the employees to make sure you don't drink or gamble. That's for grown-ups."

You relax when you realize he's teasing you.

Maybe that's a good sign? "It's okay, I don't really do either of those often, anyway."

Vincent lets out another chuckle, putting a hand on your back, leading you through the crowds and towards where the tables are. There's lots of other people sitting, talking, drinking, laughing. Playing cards or chess or something like that.

Just a bunch of regular casino things.

So far, so good.

This might actually end up working out after all...

"So why exactly did you want to join us?" Vincent asks as he sits you down at one of the chairs, pulling his own chair up next to yours. "Come from a wealthy family? Orphans? Wanted to get off the streets?"

You rub the back of your neck awkwardly, thinking of a suitable lie you'll remember for later. "Ah... I needed the money... Medical bills and stuff. Don't have any family to rely on anymore. Thought maybe if I could save up enough money, I wouldn't need to worry anymore..."

It's kind of true. After you get the information, they said they would reward you with enough cash to pay off whatever was still owed.

But whether that will ever actually happen is yet to be seen.

The more pressing issue was how Vincent would react. So far, so good. He hasn't questioned anything. Just nodded his head sympathetically and hummed at your explanation.

You continue. "And plus, Cryo seems really cool. No pun intended."

"Well, that's nice of you to say," he replies with a laugh. "We try our best around here. You seem a little jittery, though. I hope I don't scare you, kiddo?"

"I mean..." You can't really admit the real reason without outing yourself. He sounds like a man that wants to be feared by everyone. "I think this is just a new environment to me. I don't do too well with crowds."

Vincent nods understandably, patting your shoulder. "Makes sense. It is kinda noisy in here, huh? Sorry about that. Normally we're not like this, but tonight is a party night since we made a pretty big deal recently, as you're aware."

You nod, pretending to know what he's talking about. "Oh, yeah, I heard about that." This means you've already failed step one of your task - being updated on current deals - but that's okay. There's plenty of time to get the intel later. Right?

His eyes darken slightly, but his smile never leaves. "And besides... Can't say we're the nicest group of folks, either." He pokes your cheek and laughs again. "I'm worried this might be too much for you."

"Really, its okay!" you argue. "I'm a lot tougher than I look, I swear!"

He snorts. "You look like a puppy surrounded by wolves. Even if you're tougher than you look, it makes you an easy target. People are gonna be more quick to try to take you out instead of someone bigger than them."

Is he insulting you or genuinely concerned? You hope he's joking and teasing again. "I'll prove I'm strong enough to fit in! You won't have to worry about me one bit. And I can help out Cryo a lot, I promise!" You don't know why you're getting defensive over his condescending tone.

Vincent only seems amused by it, more than he already was. He pinches your cheeks between his fingers, smiling sweetly down at you. "Ohh, I'm sure you're veerrry strong, sweetie."

He sounds patronizing, in that overly-sweet way, as if speaking to a toddler.

He rubs your cheek a few times before leaning back and releasing you. "I think I'll let you stay if you answer one question for me, how 'bout that?"

You nod. "Of course. Anything."

His smile becomes more sharp. "Who sent you?"

"W-what?" Your mouth feels dry. The whole mood shifts, and suddenly it feels much less welcoming, making your stomach churn in panic.

Did you get caught that easily? How did you mess up? Maybe he's just bluffing.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Vincent stares down at you, eyes now narrowed. "You aren't fooling anyone, doll. We have extensive background checks before any of our members can even begin to be considered eligible for recruitment. I personally meet every single one of our new recruits to approve them and remember all of their names. Not only that, but I lied about a recent deal. There was no recent deal."

Your heart starts beating faster in your chest. You feel cold sweat dripping from your forehead.

He saw through you so quickly. Does he already know why you're here?

If you lie again, you're not sure you'll make it out of here alive. "Scarlet Syndicate sent me. I owe them debt, I'm not part of them... please don't kill me."

The man snickers and leans back against his chair again. "Oh, you poor thing. Its pretty clear they aren't expecting you to come back to them with info. They probably sent you here to die or get lost and forgotten about. That's cruel, even by my standards. They set you up for failure." His voice softens up. "You're shaking..."

You're hyperventilating a little, panicking. "I don't wanna die."

Vincent coos at you gently, wrapping a secure arm around you and pulling you into his lap. "Shhh, shh, hey... relax, kiddo, I'm not gonna kill you... I would never hurt such a precious little sweetheart." He kisses your head. "Calm down. Breathe in, breathe out..."

You listen to him and do as instructed.

Taking in deep breaths through the nose, letting them out from your mouth slowly. He rubs gentle circles along your back until you relax against him. He secures you in a firm hold and lifts you up against his chest.

Even for a mob boss, he has an impressive amount of strength to carry you with almost no effort.

You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

He smirks at you again. "Aww... does baby wanna be carried everywhere now?" Though its teasing, its also affectionate. You find yourself nodding regardless.

Vincent walks out with you still in his arms, ignoring his colleagues' confused gazes. You can see the exit sign coming closer and closer.

Once you leave the building, he puts you inside a limousine with him, shutting the door behind. He gathers you in his arms after shedding his long beige trench coat, wrapping it around you and engulfing you like a blanket.

This man you hardly even know just called you 'baby.'

You're not quite sure what to make of that.

"Home," he tells the driver. And then he looks down at you. "You really are a little baby, huh?"

You don't know how to react to this sudden display of parental behavior, except stare in confusion.

He pulls you into his lap. "I always wanted a kid of my own, you know. But unfortunately, fate decided I couldn't have any of my own. Well, guess it doesn't matter now!" His eyes flicker across your face. "As soon as I saw you, I could tell you needed someone to take care of you. Like a dad."

"But..." you sniffle. "I'm not a kid."

"Maybe not physically, but I can tell mentally. And you should be grateful for that. I usually don't let any spies live long enough to see another day," Vincent says. "So what do we say?"

You hesitate. "...thank you?"

"You're very welcome, munchkin. When we get you home, we'll have some late dinner and then its bedtime for you," Vincent coos.

"I usually go to bed a lot later than this," you protest.

"Nope, not anymore," he argues back, petting your hair. "As much as I want to be the fun dad, rules are rules. Bedtime will be 8:30 PM for you everyday starting from now on, got it?"

You guess you don't really have a choice.

Not in a million years did you expect this outcome of you being caught spying, but hey, its better than death by gunshot!

The limousine stops outside a huge penthouse.

Vincent carries you out of the vehicle and holds your hand as he leads you to the elevators. Inside, there's a deskman who waves at him. You shyly wave back, a bit unsure.

"This is (Y/n). They'll be staying with me from now on," Vincent explains to him. "If you see them trying to leave without me, call security and tell them to escort them back to my place. And notify me."

"Yes, sir," he agrees, then looks back at you. "Nice to meet you (Y/n). I'm August. If you need anything, feel free to ask!"

You stare at him, then Vincent, dumbfounded.

Vincent pulls you along. "Come on, baby. Let's go home."

Inside the elevator, you're left in shock, speechless. It goes high up - the top floor - before arriving at a large, fancy room.

He unlocks the door to reveal his apartment.

The entire thing is covered with plush rugs, sleek furniture, shiny marble floors, beautiful lights... Everything you'd expect in a multi-millionaire's home, including but not limited to a grand piano sitting in the middle of the living room and two full-size couches in front of a flatscreen TV, and what looks to be some kind of bar or wine cabinet.

"You can explore more tomorrow," Vincent tells you. "Until then, let's get dinner over with and then bedtime. Tomorrow we can discuss how you want your room to look like, clothes, toys, that stuff. Sound good?"

"Yeah," you mumble in agreement.

Vincent sets you down on the sofa, where you watch him grab a remote off of the coffee table.

He turns on the television and flips through channels before settling on something he deemed suitable, which happens to be some sort of children's cartoon.

He begins cooking in the other room, and you're still in too much shock to even think of trying to escape.

This all feels so surreal.

Twenty minutes later, he calls you into the kitchen and has you sit down next to him while he serves you both food.

It's decent, his cooking skills aren't amazing, but decent. You don't mind eating it, though he does give you a stern look when you don't eat all your vegetables.

Afterwards, he guides you upstairs into what appears to be the guest room, saying he'll redecorate it to fit you later. He excuses himself for a moment, coming back with yellow silk pajamas for you to change into. You do so as he turns around to give you some privacy.

When you finish dressing up, he has you brush your teeth, then wash your hands thoroughly. Finally, he helps you climb into the bed, tucking you beneath the blankets.

You can't help but admit that the mattress is really nice.

Vincent smiles down at you kindly. "I'm glad we found each other today, kiddo." He kisses your forehead. "Dad will stay here until you fall asleep, yeah?"

Of course, you don't argue. He watches you like a hawk until eventually, you close your eyes and drift away.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 24

Well, this is the end. I'm a little sad to see this one end. It's been a wild journey and one I loved every minute. The highs and the lows.

Special thanks to my discord @dreamercec, @bookworm0690, and @forgottenkanji, who helped me work out the kinks and cheered me on when I got discouraged.

Thanks of course to everyone who stuck with this story to the end and who liked, commented, and reblogged.

Next week, "You're a Dream to Me" will take over this slot as a full time regular.

The boys go a victory tour and put Hawkins in their rearview mirror. A life well lived really is the best revenge.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23

And go here for a little fun ficlet I did about the dangling chains the CC boys wear: Extra Scene

~

Steve woke up the next morning in a warm embrace and he just smiled to himself. If someone had told him six months ago that he would be living a hotel with a rockstar boyfriend, he would have called them crazy.

He thought Tommy and he were for life. That they would runaway together and live somewhere where there were sunny beaches. But he knew that never would have happened even if his dad hadn’t walked in on them making out. Tommy had always been down for a good time, not for a long time.

But Eddie?

Eddie was all in from the moment he sidled up to Steve at the Hideout. Steve might have been looking for a one night stand and warm place to sleep, but Eddie was always going to want more than that with him. His dad kicking him out just made it easier to dote on him.

He rolled over and nuzzled Eddie’s neck.

Eddie hummed happily as he awoke. “Good morning, little Canary.” He brought Steve’s chin up so he could kiss him deeply.

One thing led to another it was at least an hour before either of them got up and by the time they had showered and gotten dressed, (Steve briefly dashed over to his room to drab some clothes and came back) it was well past time for breakfast so they ordered lunch.

And as they waited, Steve curled up on Eddie’s lap, his head tucked under Eddie’s chin.

“You’re so soft, Stevie,” Eddie murmured, rubbing his thumb over the stripe of skin that was exposed in the gap between Steve’s jeans and shirt. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

Steve snuggled in closer. “My dad called it my biggest failing. That in order to survive in this world you had to be hard. Cruel.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Well, maybe in his world, but not mine. Here, I want to you to stay soft, safe, and secure.”

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

There was a knock on the door and then it opened to reveal the porter with their lunch. He pushed the cart over to them and removed the cloches.

Eddie tipped him and the man went scuttling back the way he had come.

They settled down to eat, just laughing and talking about just the little things that made up their lives. Funny stories about the kids, struggles with the record label.

The soft things.

“So what are your plans for today?” Eddie asked, moving the cart in the hallway for the staff to collect after they had finished their lunch.

Steve straddled his lap when he came back to sit on the sofa and instantly Eddie’s hands came up to his waist to steady him. He looked up into Steve’s eyes and smiled.

“I figured we had two options,” Steve said, low and sensual. “Either go around to all our friends and Wayne, telling them we finally got our heads out of our asses...”

“Or...?” Eddie asked reaching around to cup Steve’s ass and giving it a hard squeeze, causing him shriek.

“Or we can go back to bed and make Rosa hate us for a week,” Steve said, jutting his head toward the direction of the bed.

Eddie pursed his lips and cocked his head thoughtfully. Then in a single swift motion, he stood up, taking Steve with him. Steve scrambled to wrap his arms and legs around Eddie so he didn’t fall.

Eddie cackled. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He walked them over to the bed and quickly stripped Steve of his clothes.

Steve mockingly glared up at him. “You are far too good at that,” he huffed with an eye roll.

“I’m good at a lot things, little Canary,” Eddie teased. “I’m a going to have the best time showing you what I know.” He pressed a kiss to Steve’s nose, then his cheek, then his jaw. “I’m not some dorky high school washout who’s only experience is you, I’m a rockstar and I’m going to rock your world.”

Steve let himself go boneless and his fingers tentatively stroked the skin on Eddie’s arms, his hands shaking from the pleasure.

“Let yourself go, Stevie,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll catch you, no matter how you fall.”

So Steve fell.

~

That night while Eddie was getting a shower, Steve called Robin.

He sat on the bed and tucked his knees under his chin, listening to the phone ring.

“I’m assuming since you didn’t call last night bawling your eyes out it went well?” Robin answered with a huff of laughter.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “We did talk first. About what we both wanted from the relationship and how to work as a team.”

“That’s good, Steve,” she said fondly. “I’m glad you’re getting everything you wanted.”

“Hey,” he said firmly, “don’t forget, I’m still buying you that car and once you graduate, I’m making you my personal assistant so you have to come with me wherever we go.”

“Deal.”

~

They ended up doing their little victory tour of their friends the next day, with them starting with Eddie’s bandmates.

The second they walked out on the veranda where the three other members of Corroded Coffin were having breakfast, Jeff burst out in a cheer while the other two moaned in despair.

“Ha!” he cried. “I win the bet!”

“I can’t believe it!” Gareth moaned into his hands. “I thought for sure it would take another week before they fucked like rabbits!”

Brian shook his head and said, “I didn’t think they would do anything. I figured they pine forever, if I’m honest.”

“Not with Stevie looking like that,” Jeff said shaking his ruefully. “He knew what he wanted and I had no doubt he was going to get it.”

“I saw them at the bar,” Gareth wailed. “I was so sure that they were going to admit their feelings for each other and then ease back into the sex now that they knew they were on the same page!”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other sheepishly. Because yes, that is exactly what they should have done. But with Steve looking like sin and Eddie like sex on legs, there was no way they were going to keep their hands off each other for any length of time.

They sat down at the table, blush high on Steve’s cheeks while Eddie’s grin was feral.

“What can I say?” Eddie said, picking up a menu. “I like making my little Canary sing.”

The blush on Steve’s cheeks deepened and crept up to his ears and down the column of his throat.

“Well,” Brian said, pulling out his wallet and handing Jeff a one hundred dollar bill, “I, for one am very happy for you both.”

Gareth slapped another hundred into Jeff’s other waiting hand. “Yeah, we really are happy you guys are together. Maybe female fans will stop throwing themselves at Eddie and give the rest of us poor bitches a passing glance.”

Jeff snorted, pocketing the money. “Not fucking likely. If I can’t get dates being the lead singer and Eddie being out as gay, Eddie having a very public boyfriend ain’t gonna change jack shit.”

“We’re doomed!” Gareth wailed dramatically, burying his head in hands.

“At least we won’t have albums worth of sad long songs,” Brian said cocking his head to the side ruefully.

Eddie smacked his shoulder. “Hey! I only wrote one album of sad songs after I broke up with Quinton thank you very much!”

“And three notebooks worth of absolute trash,” Jeff said rolling his eyes. “I was so grateful when Hunter came along because then we got the angry metal and that was some really good stuff.”

Steve shrunk in on himself. Hunter and Quinton? How many more guys were notches on Eddie’s bedpost.

Gareth’s eyes narrowed on Steve. “Hey, guys knock it off with the exes talk, we’re celebrating Steve and Eddie, not ragging on Eddie’s exes.”

Eddie looked over at Steve and wilted. “Baby, they’re exes for a reason, okay? You are not, and never will be like those assholes. It’s why I love you.” He pulled Steve close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah,” Brian said contrite, “I shouldn’t have brought it up, that was my dumb mistake.”

Steve just nodded and curled up into Eddie’s side, where he stayed until they finished breakfast.

~

They told the kids all at once, dragging everyone to the arcade with Eddie and Claudia in tow, almost daring the management to repeat the last time Steve brought the kids here. But management wisely said nothing and even put them in the event room for privacy.

Eddie getting positively gleeful about being able to splash his money around.

When it was time for pizza Dustin asked. “All right, this is fantastic and all but really, why are we here?”

There was some hissing from a couple of the other kids while Eddie and Steve laughed.

“We just wanted to tell everyone,” Steve said, gently taking Eddie’s hand, “that Eddie and I are officially going steady.”

“About time,” Mike huffed and then took a huge bite of his pizza. “We were starting to think you were gonna grow a fucking forest with all the pining that was going on.”

Will snorted and he hurried to cover it up, but it was too late. Everyone had heard him.

“Sorry!” he said with a grimace. “But he’s right! You guys have been dancing around each since Eddie got back and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and then shrugged.

“To be fair,” Steve said dryly, “he was traveling on tour for a good portion of our relationship so that did put the breaks on it a bit.” He held up his finger and his thumb really close together.

“Will’s mom didn’t help either,” Max said with a wince. “Like if she hadn’t been harping about Steve getting a job, they probably would have gotten together soon after Eddie came back, instead of having to deal with the fall out of the attack on Steve.” She looked over at Will and then muttered, “Sorry, but it’s true.”

Will shrugged. “It’s true though. She hounded Steve and if she had backed off even a little things would have gone smoother for Eddie and him.”

“Thanks Will,” Steve said with a smile. “Are Nancy and Jonathan going to join us later?”

Will lit up and started talking about Jonathan and Nancy.

Steve just sat back, leaning into Eddie’s side, watching his kids having fun and just being themselves for awhile.

~

The parents were at once easier and harder then the kids. Claudia and the Sinclairs were happy for them, Sue couldn’t have care one way or another who Steve was fucking as long as he didn’t do it front of the kids, and the Wheelers were clearly pained, but openly supportive.

Hopper clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “You’re the only one I trust to take care of Steve,” he said as they had gone to sit on the porch for a smoke. Steve was inside with Ellie learning different plaiting methods because he wanted to braid Eddie’s hair.

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I’m not sure I know what that means, but I’ll take it.”

Hopper shook his head. “It means that that boy has a big heart and he wears it on his sleeve. No matter who he dated, they were going to think he was too much. Everyone but you. Because if he love is the ocean, then you are the shore.”

Eddie blinked back tears. “Thanks. I really appreciate that. He means the world to me and I will make sure he’s as happy as I can make him.”

Hopper nodded and they both finished their cigarettes in silence, watching the sun set on the horizon.

Joyce came and sat down next to Steve, where he was practicing a French braid on Ellie’s hair.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Steve?” she asked gently.

Steve looked her dead in the eye. “Is it because he’s a man, because he’s rich, or because he’s Eddie fucking Munson, that you have a problem with him? Because I’ve never been able to pin it down exactly.”

Joyce bowed her head and then ran her hands over her face. She tapped Ellie’s shoulder. “Go see what Will wants for dinner.”

Ellie looked up at Steve and only when he nodded dis she stand up to do as Joyce asked.

“I wish I could say none of the above,” she said softly. “But it’s probably D- all of the above. And I’m really struggling with that because I know–” she stopped, a pained noise escaping her throat. “I suspect that Will is gay, too. And I’m going to have to come to terms with the fact that I will probably have a daughter-in-law and a son-in-law. But I don’t know how to do the right thing for him.”

Steve took her hand. “Just treat him and whoever he brings home the same way you would treat any girl Jonathan brings. And love him.”

She gave his hand a squeeze and nodded, choking back tears.

~

Wayne was thrilled that they had finally gotten together and promised them that his home would always be their safe harbor no matter where the wind took them.

~

Steve was happy to see Hawkins in the rearview mirror after the holidays. Eddie wanted to show him his house in LA to see where Steve really wanted to live, plus it was time for the band to get back into the studio for their next album.

As they boarded the plane that would take Steve far away from Indiana, he sighed. “I wish there was a way that I could give my dad the middle finger, you know?” He shook his head. “They say the best revenge is a life well lived. But it doesn’t do any good if he thinks I’m lying in a ditch somewhere.”

Eddie scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I think I have just the thing, baby.”

~

Steve was handed a stack of postcards and bright pink pen.

“Wherever we go,” Eddie said softly, “whatever we do, send your parents a postcard letting them know you’re out there having fun.”

Steve grinned up at him. “This in addition to that exclusive you gave Nancy?”

Eddie chuckled. The weekend after they landed in LA, Eddie sent out for Nancy and Jonathan to do a full spread article about being gay in the music industry, the AIDS crisis, and the announcement that Eddie and Steve were a couple. It had ran in every major newspaper in the country.

After The Hawkins Post got it for the first twenty-four hours.

There was no way his parents missed the picture of their son, cuddling up with the biggest metal star in the world.

~

Maureen walked to the mailbox in front of her large mansion in Hawkins. Honestly, she was thinking of asking Clint to just sell the place. It wasn’t as though they needed it and they were hardly there in the first place.

Even before this whole mess with the disaster with the Hagan boy.

She opened it up and sighed. She closed it again, stomping her foot. She huffed out another sigh and then opened the mailbox again.

She pulled out the only item in there and closed it again. She walked into the house and called out, “He sent us another one!”

Clint came barreling out of his office, like a bull on a rampage. “Where is that wastrel of a son now?”

Maureen turned over the card and read. “Looks like he’s in the Bahamas with Rob Lowe sipping on mai tais!”

“That the third one this month!” Clint bellowed. “First it was in Paris with Twiggy! Then it was with Cher in LA! He travels more than we do!”

Maureen burst out into tears. “I want to go to the Bahamas! You never take me anywhere nice anymore!”

Clint ripped the card out of her hand and tossed it on the growing pile of postcards. All from Steve. All of them with pictures of him on the lap of that depraved rockstar, Eddie Munson’s lap. All with the same message:

“Out here livin’ my best life thanks to you! XXX- Steve”

-The End

~

Tag List: COMPLETED

1- @itsall-taken @wheneverfeasible @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @themoonagainstmers @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

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10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

Putting my two cents even tho I got less money then that 🤭🤭🤭

Reader wearing batfamily merchandise like randomly one day reader comes out of their cave wearing a shirt with the family symbol on it and reader is just like "oh yea"

Pookie thank you for your time 🤭🤭🤭🤭!!!!

(Gotta blow the cob webs of this one) LOVE THE IDEA POOKIE!!!

The reader used to get Batfam merchandise because before the whole neglect thing, the reader was a huge fan of the Batfam. They thought the family was so cool, awesome, and fun that they just couldn't help but buy merch related to them. When your dad takes you to Wayne Manor and you accidentally end up in the Batcave, you start jumping up and down with happiness and excitement. YOUR DAD IS BATMAN, THE BATMAN, AND YOUR SIBLINGS ARE NIGHTWING, RED HOOD, RED ROBIN, SPOILER, BATGIRL, ORACLE, AND ROBIN! This feels like God coming down and saying, "Hey kid, out of the billions of people, you're my favorite!" You start to have fantasies of becoming a Robin, only for Damian to shut you down, calling you weak and a liability on the field, while Tim tells you Damian is right and how you have no experience. Jason tells you that you don't have the soul to be Robin, which quickly shuts your dreams down. And don't even think about being Batgirl—Babs tells you you're not ready and suggests you stay a civilian where you can be safe. Later on, you hear how you just can't do things like Cass can or how you don't have the spirit Steph has. Your sister Steph breaks you even more, yelling at you when you bring up the idea of being Robin or Batgirl, calling you naive and thinking that everything is a game, which isn't true. She just won't admit she was just as naive at one point. When you come to Bruce about it, he shuts you down even more, telling you that you're not like the others and that you should give up the silly dream. You're this close to packing your things and going back home, but then again, Mama didn't raise no quitter, so you try your very best, even making your own Robin suit, only to have it ripped right in front of you by Damian, who yells that you're a disgrace to the Wayne name. When you talk to Bruce about it, he goes on about how Damian has been through so much, and you can't hold a grudge. Well, you do after that day. You destroy all your Batfamily merchandise, leaving the manor with a big bag full of stuff. You tell Alfred to drive to some alleyway, where you dump all your things. Alfred pours gasoline into the trash can, and you take a lighter out of your pocket, setting the merch ablaze, watching the fire burn as the old butler holds you and tries to comfort you, telling you that the family doesn't mean what they say. A few weeks pass, and barely anyone notices that your favorite Nightwing hoodie is gone or that you don't have your Batman keychain on your house keys anymore. When Tim goes into your room asking to borrow your charger, he sees that your walls, which used to be filled with posters of the Batfam, are stripped bare. The shelf that had figures of them is gone, and the plushies of them have disappeared. "What happened to them?" he asks, and all you say is, "Oh, I just grew up." Grew up? Grew up? Tim knew that wasn't true! I mean, you watch Bluey for Christ's sake. You didn't grow up. He wonders where it all went until Alfred says you burned them all. He runs to the others with this information, and they don't believe it until they go to that very same alleyway, where they see all the burnt merchandise and the Robin costume you made that Damian destroyed. They realize they need to apologize fast.

[sturniololuvz]

Can you do one where the triplets sister lives with them and Chris and his little sister get in to a big fight and Chris snaps and says some personal things about her and instead of arguing back she starts crying and she says she wants to go back to Boston, and Nick and Matt get involved

yepppo!

“Broken Bonds”

Sturniolos x sister

It was a typical afternoon in the Sturniolo household, with laughter and chaos filling the air as the triplets and their younger sister, Y/N, navigated their lives together. Since moving from Boston to LA, Y/N had been adjusting to a new school and a new routine, but today was different. Tension hung thick in the air, and it was only a matter of time before it erupted.

Y/N had been in a bad mood all day, and Chris, who was already on edge from a long day of filming, couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer. “Can you just lighten up for once? You’re acting like such a baby!” he snapped, his voice echoing through the living room.

“Why do you always have to be such a jerk, Chris?” Y/N shot back, her tone defensive. “I’m just trying to get used to everything!”

Chris rolled his eyes, the irritation boiling over. “You think you have it hard? You don’t even know what it’s like! You’ve barely even tried!” His words were sharp, and he felt a rush of anger coursing through him.

Y/N’s face fell, her eyes widening with hurt. “I’m trying my best, okay? Maybe you don’t understand what it feels like to be the new kid!”

“That’s rich coming from you!” Chris shot back, the heat of the moment clouding his judgment. “You’re just being dramatic! It’s not that hard to fit in!”

“Shut up!” Y/N yelled, tears forming in her eyes. “You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know how it feels to be alone!”

Chris’s anger flared, and in a moment of weakness, he snapped. “Maybe if you weren’t so annoying, people would actually want to be around you! You’re just a burden!”

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight, and for a moment, everything stopped. Y/N’s expression shifted from anger to shock, her bottom lip quivering as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I… I just want to go back to Boston,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Chris’s heart sank as he realized the impact of his words. He had crossed a line, and he could see the pain in Y/N’s eyes. She wasn’t arguing back; she was hurt.

“Y/N, wait—” Chris began, but she turned and rushed to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Matt and Nick, who had been in the kitchen, rushed into the living room at the sound of the commotion. “What just happened?” Matt asked, concern etched on his face.

Chris ran a hand through his hair, guilt flooding in. “I… I messed up. I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, narrowing his eyes. “What did you say?”

“I told her she was a burden and that she should stop being annoying!” Chris admitted, his voice thick with regret.

Matt’s expression hardened. “Dude, what’s wrong with you? She’s our sister! You can’t talk to her like that!”

“I know! I didn’t mean it! I was just so frustrated!” Chris exclaimed, pacing the room. “But she looked so hurt…”

Nick exchanged a worried glance with Matt before they both moved toward Y/N’s door. “Let’s talk to her,” Matt said gently, knocking softly. “Y/N? Can we come in?”

There was no response, just silence. Nick leaned against the door, feeling helpless. “Please, Y/N. We just want to help.”

After a long moment, they heard her muffled voice from inside. “I don’t want to talk to any of you!”

Matt sighed, looking at Chris with concern. “We need to get her to open up. She’s really upset.”

Chris felt a knot in his stomach. “What if I just made things worse?”

“We’ll figure it out together. You need to apologize, man,” Nick said firmly.

“Y/N, please!” Chris called, his voice softer now. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I just got carried away. Can we talk?”

Finally, the door creaked open, and Y/N stood there, tears still glistening on her cheeks. Her expression was a mix of anger and heartbreak. “You really think I’m a burden?”

“No! I don’t think that at all,” Chris rushed to say, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. “I was wrong to say that. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

Y/N looked down, her small shoulders trembling. “It just feels like I don’t belong here sometimes. I miss Boston… I miss my friends.”

Nick stepped forward, kneeling to be at her eye level. “You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re our sister, and we love you. We want you here with us. It’s okay to feel lost sometimes, but we’ll help you through it.”

Matt added, “We all have our struggles. You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.”

Y/N sniffled, looking between her brothers, searching for the sincerity in their eyes. “I just feel so out of place.”

Chris took a deep breath, stepping closer to her. “I was a jerk, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. You’re never a burden to me. I promise I’ll be better. I just want you to feel at home here.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she stepped forward, enveloping Chris in a hug. “I’m sorry for being so sensitive,” she whispered.

“No need to apologize,” Chris replied, holding her tightly. “We’re family. We’ll get through this together, I promise.”

As they pulled back, Matt and Nick joined the embrace, creating a tight-knit circle of support. In that moment, Y/N realized that despite the challenges of being in a new place, she had her brothers by her side, ready to face whatever came their way.

[dreamdragonkadia]

do you have like anything for like a apollo reader with percy? like sometimes the reader usually use percy as a muse and percy asked them how they are good with art and the reader just shrugs and tells him that she was always good at it like maybe a hint that she was always an a apollo kid before arriving at camp? i think this is such a cute request

This request was so freaking cute! Apollo is absolutely that parent who wholeheartedly approves of his kids dating Percy—like, no hesitation, full-on cheerleader mode. Hope you all enjoy! p.jackson/apollo!reader

Every child of Apollo was different. Their father had a wide range of talents—music, poetry, archery, healing—and his kids were no different. Some got the medical genius, like Will Solace, who could patch up a broken bone before most people even realized it was broken. Others were master archers, their hands steady even in the middle of battle.

And then there was you.

Healing? You could slap a Band-Aid on someone and call it a day. Archery? Let’s not talk about how many of Chiron’s training dummies had been “accidentally” skewered in all the wrong places. But the arts? That was yours. Truly, enviously, yours.

You had a gift—one that made your half-siblings tilt their heads and squint at your paintings like they were trying to figure out how a bunch of colors on a canvas could breathe. Because your art wasn’t just realistic—it was alive. Not literally (at least, you were 90% sure it wasn’t), but something about the way you painted made people pause, like they expected the figures to move.

Percy was one of those people.

He was stretched out in the grass next to you now, propped up on his elbows, watching as you worked on a painting of him. You knew he was trying to play it cool, but the way he kept stealing glances at your sketchbook betrayed him. His expression wavered between curiosity and something dangerously close to awe.

Finally, he broke the silence. "How are you so good at this?"

You glanced at him, then back at the canvas, tilting your head as you considered your response. "Natural talent?"

Percy scoffed. "No way. I’ve seen some of the Apollo kids try to paint, and they do not make people look this—this…" He gestured vaguely at the painting, at himself, then back at the painting. "This real."

You dipped your brush into the paint and smirked. "Maybe you're just easy to paint, Jackson."

He snorted. "Please. I can barely take a good photo, let alone get a whole masterpiece out of it."

You shrugged, then reached out, placing your hand under his chin with gentle pressure. His skin was warm under your fingertips. You tilted his face slightly, angling his eyes just right, studying the way the afternoon light caught in them. His pupils flickered to you, surprised but not pulling away, and for a second, neither of you moved.

Then, satisfied, you let go and turned back to your painting, adding a touch more light to the green of his eyes on the canvas. "I’ve just always been good at it."

"Yeah, but, like… even before camp?"

That made your brush pause for just a second.

Because, truthfully, yeah. Even before Camp Half-Blood, before you had ever stepped foot into Cabin Seven, you’d been like this. Art had never been something you learned—it had always felt more like something you remembered. Something already in your bones, in your fingertips. You had always been able to see the light in people, the colors that made them them, long before you knew who your father was.

So you gave a small, knowing smile and said, "Yeah. Even before camp."

Percy studied you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to elaborate. You didn’t. But he didn’t press, just let out a huff, staring at the sky.

You turned your attention back to your painting, only for Percy to very obnoxiously scoot closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. His black curls tickled your neck, and you huffed out a laugh.

"Comfortable?" you asked, rolling your eyes as you adjusted your brush.

"Very," he said smugly, voice muffled against your skin. He shifted, pressing his cheek against yours, all warm and solid. "What are you gonna do about it?"

You pretended to think, then dipped your finger in blue paint and smudged it onto his nose.

Percy jerked back with an offended squawk. "Did you just—"

"Yep." You smirked, wiping your hand off on your jeans. "And now you're part of the painting. Congrats."

Percy rubbed at his nose, only succeeding in smearing the paint further. "You suck."

"You sat on me, Percy. What did you expect?"

"A little kindness? A little mercy? A little love from my amazing girlfriend?" He dramatically flopped onto his back, hands over his face. "This is how I die. Betrayed. Marked for life by blue paint."

Rolling your eyes, you reached over and gently flicked his forehead, making him yelp. "You'll live, drama queen."

He grumbled something under his breath, then—before you could react—stole your brush right out of your hand and booped your nose with the tip.

Now you were the one spluttering. "Percy!"

"Payback." He grinned, sitting up and twirling the brush between his fingers like he had just won some grand battle. "How’s it feel, Picasso?"

You wiped at your nose, glaring at him even as you fought back a smile. "Hope you know you just declared war."

Percy’s grin widened. "Oh, bring it on, sunshine."

And maybe you did. Maybe that painting session turned into a full-blown art war. Maybe there was way more paint on you two than on the actual canvas by the end of it. But at some point, when you were both out of breath and covered in streaks of color, Percy reached over, smudged some orange paint on your cheek, and muttered, "You really are amazing at this, y’know?"

The words were quiet, a little softer than before. No teasing, no sarcasm—just Percy, being Percy.

And that, more than anything, made you smile.

[isetfiretomyself]

Yandere Male Butcher X G/N Teacher Reader

Trigger warnings! Yandere behaviour, Violence, Someone tries to touch the reader, a tad of stalking socials,This is all fictional! I don't condone toxic behaviour!

Now what a bizarre pairing, I feel like I should give some context lmao. Now shall we indulge in this fantasy?

🫀Yandere Butcher who divorced his ex wife two years before meeting you, After the divorce it was just Him and his son.

🫀I cannot explain why but Yandere Butcher's son is very alternative. Which there's nothing wrong with that! But wearing studded bracelets and battle jackets (I've also seen the called battle vests so if one is more commonly used let me know -Jay) into school meant Yandere Butcher gets called a lot.

🫀Yandere Butcher who was expecting the same old moody tutor not you...

🫀Yandere Butcher who is massive, I'm talking 6'4, Covered in tattoos from his early adulthood and a man bun that a hair tie is clinging to dear life keep up. That makes it very intimidating for you to explain the issues.

"Erm...Mr-" you start but Yandere Butcher cuts you off. "Listen cut the official stuff call me Isaiah,yeah? I'm getting called here more times then I'm selling turkey's at Christmas. What did he wear this time? The 'kill all cops' top? Or that bloody devil necklace?" You a bit surprised. His thick southern accent was attractive if you allowed yourself to be honest for a second.

"It was just a bit of eyeliner. I'm going to be honest from other teachers experiences it's not that bad but I have to report it." You say craning your neck up to look up at him. "I'm not trying to be rude but... couldn't you of just called, emailed even?" He said fixing his posture. "If it was just that then yes. I erm... wanted to ask about you. If that's okay?"

🫀Yandere Butcher who was stunned.

"About me?" He tilts his head. "I'm aware you're a single parent, I'm not judging! I was just wondering if you needed any support?"

🫀 Yandere Butcher was even more stunned! You cared? Nobody really cared that much about him. He was just Isaiah, the grumpy butcher, the divorce dad or the guy you wanted on your team on quiz night at the pub. Everyone assumed he was fine, that he was a 'real man'.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Yandere Butcher who had to wait till he was in his truck to allow himself to smile

🫀 Yandere Butcher who dug up anything and everything he could about you online. Yandere Butcher that was ecstatic when he found out you were single.

🫀 Yandere Butcher who made his kid work at the butchers at the weekend if he misbehaved in your class. His son never saw him care so much about anyone like the apart from him and his mother. (an till she was found in another man's bed)

🫀 Yandere Butcher who was at the pub on Friday night while his son was at a sleepover. Beer in hand, he talked to the locals about nothing and everything. He would never admit it but it was always a highlight of his week.

🫀Yandere Butcher who almost chocked when he saw you come into the pub. You were in casual clothes with a few friends and you looked utterly adorable to him.

🫀Yandere Butcher who clocked and grabbed some random guys hand before he could try and touch you. The stranger got kicked out for his actions and the locals asked if you were okay.

🫀Yandere Butcher who was surprised when you hugged him. "Thank you!" You cheered, a faint smell of alcohol was on your breath.

🫀Yandere Butcher who let you sleep on his couch that night. He sat on a chair near by and watched you sleep. You figure raising and falling,you were so fragile, so sweet.

🫀 Yandere Butcher who is way more aware of plant based diets then people would give him credit for so made you a fruit salad for breakfast. Strawberries, blueberries and more fruits as sweet as you.

You were so embarrassed. "Please forgive me,I promise I usually don't drink so much." You say pushing the fruit around your bowl. " Don't worry you were stressed that night." He said crouching down to your level, you noticed his eye bugs. "I didn't keep you up ,did I?" You say with a pouty lip. "What? No, I never sleep when my kids doing god knows what at a sleepover. You've seen how they are in school, imagine what they do when they don't have you to keep them in line." He said while putting a hand on your shoulder. You smile a little a faint blush on your checks.

What you didn't know is as you slept Yandere Butcher shoved that pig who tried to touch you in his massive meat freezer that was getting cleaned. "You wanna act like a pig? I'll fucking cut you like one" by the time he visited the freezer again, he needed a black bag, saw and some bleach. He wasn't worried about getting caught because his most important people where at school. His little troublemaker being taught by his angel.

Two Fics in one day!? The world's gone mad! Lmao I hope posting twice doesn't ruin any engagement because I'm quite proud of this one. I must admit my art blocks been quite bad so if anyone wants me to attempt to draw my oc's please vote!

[kaytheday]

Saying Goodbye (Ace and Dally's last interaction)

Ace was being carried. She was in someone's arms, her head bumping against a strong chest as they walked. She starts to stir, still letting herself melt back into the arms as they walk. She was so tired, but she didn’t remember why.  

“Ace kid, you wakin’ up?” She is startled at that. She knew that voice, that voice that had disappeared on a set of train tracks. 

“Dally?” She asks quietly. 

“Yeah it’s me.” She looks up at a smirking Dallas Winston, who is just holding her and walking down an unknown street. His face was perfectly clean from any cuts and bruises, his arms were bare and free from any burns and his previously messed up hair was perfectly back in place. Like an angel. If Dallas could ever be described as that. 

“But how…? Are you…? Am I…?” 

“You ain’t dead if that’s what you’re thinkin’.” 

“I watched you die though.” He nods, shifting and pulling her closer. 

“And I am sorry about that.” 

“You should be.” She shoots back. “We lost Johnny and then you too…” 

He smiles wanly again. “Ace, I had too.” 

“You didn’t! You could have stayed with us.” He doesn’t say anything to that, just keeps carrying her through the street by houses she doesn’t recognize. “Where are we Dally?” He smiles a little. 

“New York. This was my street when I was a kid. All my friends lived in these alley houses.” He nods his head to a row of little shacks, the colors muted and the streets empty. “We used to play baseball at that intersection.” He smiles wryly. “You know I was a Yankees fan?” 

“You never told me.” She said softly, feeling for the millionth time tonight that she is inadequate with her relationships to her friends. Dallas never talked about his time in New York all that often. The only time he would open up about it was when he got a couple drinks in him. Though he purposely liked to scare Ponyboy or Johnny with gang stories, he did have a couple softer memories he had told Ace. 

“It never came up.” He was being awfully soft towards her. Something he never was when he was alive. She’d never seen him like this. He’d also never made an appearance in her dreams before. Dead or alive. He stops in front of a dilapidated alley house. There was one box of yellow sunflowers on the windowsill, a spot of bright on the brown exterior of the house. “This was my nana’s granny flat.”

“Is she there?” 

“No. She moved on.” He says it airily, as if he knows something that she doesn’t. He walks up the steps and opens the door. There's a small ripping flowery couch that he sets her down on gently and sits across from her in the arm chair. 

“Did you ever miss her in Tulsa?” 

“Of course I did, but I had to run.” She wants to ask why. Why did he run away from New York? Why did he run to Tulsa? And most of all, why did he stand in front of that train? Why did he leave her? 

“Dally-”

“I couldn’t have stayed in Tulsa Ace. Not without Johnny.” He interrupts her. Ace fiddles with a stray string on the couch. 

“You could have! You didn’t have to run in front of that train! You could have stayed with us, Dally!” She knows she sounds childish, but she still feels so tired. She is also so angry at Dallas for leaving them. How could he? He gives her that same stupid smile. 

“I had to go, Ace. Johnny needed me.” 

“I need you too.” Normally she wouldn’t have been caught dead saying something like that to Dallas Winston, but she lets herself say it, figuring this is a dream or one of those afterlife experiences. Either way, this might be the last time she would ever see him and he had to know. 

“Johnny… He’s been alone his whole life, I couldn’t let him be alone here too.” She sniffles, letting a couple stray tears run down her face. 

“But… I’m gonna miss you Dally.” 

“I know, but you ain’t like Johnny, kid. You got your brother and the gang and you’ve always been okay by yourself. I’m not tryna say that you guys are better off without me, I’m just sayin’ that you’ll move on fast. Johnny ain’t got no one up here. He needs me.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t miss you.” She says bitterly and he laughs, moving forward to grip her shoulder. 

“Hey, I’ll miss you too. I love you Ace and you’re my sister. Ain’t nothin’ gonna change that. Not me bein’ dead, not any of it, okay?”

“I know it’s just...” She trails off, knowing she has more she wants to say. She should beg him to stay, saying that he can’t leave her. He can’t be her brother from the afterlife. But she knows it’s not true. Her Grents are still her Grents even though they’re dead and Dallas would always be her brother, whether or not he was dead.

He smiles again and stands. “Say goodbye to everyone for me. I didn’t get a chance.” She stiffens, expecting panic to fill her stomach, instead of the indifference. He walks over to the front door and opens it, light drenching him as it pours out of the open door. 

“Hey Dally, you comin’?” She knew that voice too, it was a voice she’d known all her life. It belonged to a boy with a heart so gold and a soul so pure that it made loving him easy. A boy she’d protected through his life and in turn he’d been her friend and her brother. A boy she was going to miss so much. 

“Course I am Johnny.” Dallas answers with an easy smile. “Just gotta say goodbye.” He walks back over to Ace. She feels tears run down her face as he pulls her into a hug. A tight hug that says more than his words ever could. 

“Will you please stay with me Dally?” She asks one more time, knowing it’s childish and pleading but wanting to try anyway. Dallas just laughs and squeezes her a little tighter. 

“My Ace of Spades, never lose that fire ‘neath your feet.” He pulls away, kissing her forehead and giving her a wave. He walks through the light with one arm around Johnny.

[itsjaywalkers]

nada que perder: the sequel

part 1

jegulus microfic (that isn't actually a microfic) | 7.9k (lol) | very questionable age gap (we're so back babeyyy) (nothing happens in this one either but do not fret . jegulus grooming we're getting closer) | unrequited love (OR IS IT..) | james has a gun in this one.. and considering his behaviour he really shouldn't | dedicated to my beloved @yipyipyap <3 number 1 fan of this au <3

James is hiding under the stairs in the courtyard, hoping that Andromeda won’t go out on the balcony until he’s done with his fag. She isn’t against smoking, exactly—she indulges in it whenever she drinks or is especially stressed, so it’d be quite hypocritical on her part. But still, he isn’t fond of James doing it around the kids. Andromeda and Alphard fight constantly over it, because Alphard just can’t quit it—although, it’s not like he tries—and James has seen how vicious they both can become. He refuses to be included, even if that means stepping outside and dealing with Manchester’s cold wind whenever he craves some nicotine.

The plan was to only have one and then go back upstairs, because they’re supposed to have lunch all together at The Marauder, the Lupins’ pub, but Tonks had been protesting, saying they already had plans with some friends. Ted didn’t seem too fussed about it, but James had noticed the look in Andromeda’s eye and he hadn’t liked it. You can never be sure, because she gives in very easily when her kid is involved, but it had felt like an argument was brewing.

He had thought it better to not be there for it. Tonks always tries to get him on their side, because James has always been a sort of ‘cool uncle’ figure for them and Regulus, even though he’s actually not related to them. It wouldn’t end well for James. He’s never been good under pressure, and Andromeda can be downright terrifying when she wants to.

Besides, there’s also the fact that he, Alphard and Frank are in the middle of a case right now. Stupid Lucius isn’t happy about the mess they made last time, even if they solved it in the end, so they’ve been trying to be on their best behaviour. Which, unfortunately, means they’re at his beck and call, making an effort to never talk back—James had almost slipped up thrice just that morning—and following protocol to a tee.

Orion has refused to give them anything with substance since they were transferred. He has refused to even acknowledge them during meetings, or when they run into each other in the halls of the station. And listen, James is definitely not complaining; that asshole hates his guts, and it’s very much mutual. But that doesn’t change that Orion is the superintendent and they kind of need his approval on almost everything they do.

Considering he probably just brought them to his station as punishment and to make their lives fucking miserable, they have no other option but to prove themselves by their own merits and climb up the ladder. That way, Orion will have no choice but to acknowledge them.

The issue is that they’ve never been very orthodox in their methods. And it had been fine, before, when most of their fuck ups were easily fixable and the good outweighed the bad. Now they’re being forced to work under harsh conditions. Having to answer to people like Orion Black and Lucius Malfoy.

Although, and if James is being honest, Lucius has been suspiciously merciful. Or, well, as merciful as someone like him can be.

James hates it, even if it works in their favour. He doesn’t want to feel like he owes anything to that man.

Lucius had allowed them to leave a bit reluctantly, after Alphard had lied about having a family emergency. The possibility of him calling them back to the station is quite high, however, and Andromeda never reacts well when lunch is interrupted by work matters.

He’s about to finish the cigarette, still debating if having a second one would be the smartest course of action, when he hears it.

“I swear, dude, he’s so fucking fit!”

James blinks, straightening up slightly before he takes a little peek from where he’s hiding under the stairs. The courtyard is open for everyone in the building, but the few times he’s come out for a smoke he’s barely seen anyone. Most people seem to prefer lounging on their own balconies, and apart from children playing around sometimes and the occasional old woman, it tends to be empty.

He catches sight of a couple of teenagers; they seem to be around Regulus’ age, but considering the leather jackets, the ripped jeans and all the piercings, they’re definitely not the kind of company Alphard would like for his nephew.

The one who has apparently made the comment is tall and lanky, his eyes a dark green and a ring on his lower lip. He has light brown hair, a few strands dyed a hideous shade of green, and his clothes seem to be at least a size or two bigger than him. James can’t help but squint his eyes a bit at him. He had been no saint when he was younger, and it’s not like he is now, despite being fucking cop, but James doesn’t like his vibes.

The other bloke isn’t much better. He’s shorter but tall nonetheless, and bigger in size, even though James has a feeling the other one would be a lot more ruthless in a fight. He sports a buzzcut and his eyes are a light shade of blue, cold and lifeless. Both his right eyebrow and the left side of his nose are pierced, and if James didn’t know any better, he’d swear there’s a tattoo peeking from the collar of his shirt.

James can’t help but scoff under his breath. He shakes his head lightly, taking another drag of his cigarette and deciding that he’ll go back inside as soon as he’s done. But as he’s about to step from under the stairs, something in the kids’ conversation catches his attention.

“Mate, I know you’re down to shag everyone and everything, but c’mon, you gotta be making this shit up,” the one with the buzzcut is saying, eyes narrowed. “There’s no way a bloke can be that hot. There’s just no way.”

“Just wait ‘til you see him,” the lanky guy retorts, and for some reason, he tilts his head back, eyes jumping from one balcony to another. “He’s prettier than most of the girls I’ve seen.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing, mate—”

“Trust me on this, okay?”

“Crouch, I wouldn’t trust you even if you paid me—”

“You’ll understand when you see him. You’re gonna be eating your fucking words, Mulciber.”

“Whatever.” Mulciber (?) rolls his eyes. “Why are you so sure he’ll show up, huh?”

“We’re neighbours,” Crouch responds, all his attention on the balconies surrounding the courtyard. “He moved here recently, and with his whole family, I think. There’s so many of them. I’ve only seen him and his brother. And his mum. I think it’s his mum, anyway, but she looked very young.”

“Teen mum, probably,” Mulciber mutters with a shrug. “Wouldn’t surprise me if they moved to this shithole.”

Crouch snorts. “That’s what I thought too. Anyways, Regulus—that’s his name—likes to sit on the balcony to read. And I’ve caught him people watching before, so—”

James nearly stops listening after that name is so casually dropped. There’s a soft ringing in his ears, and his hands keep clenching and unclenching, clenching and unclenching, as if they can’t decide if they want to curl into fists or not.

He hadn’t cared much about what they’re discussing. Just kids being kids, right? Being inappropriate about another kid who they fancy, or want to shag, or whatever, just like kids their age usually do. Now, though? Oh, now it feels personal. And definitely not as innocent as James had originally thought.

“Regulus?” Mulciber repeats, a bit incredulous, before he lets out a laugh. One of James’ eyes twitches. “That’s a weird fucking name, man.”

“Well, he is a bit weird,” Crouch concedes with a tilt of his head.

“You talk like you know him.”

“I mean, not really, but we did talk a little when I helped him move some boxes the day he moved in. And Mulciber, dude, he was wearing the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen. I thought I was gonna pop a boner right then and there—”

“You’re such a fucking perv,” Mulciber sniggers, elbowing Crouch on his side, who retaliates without missing a beat, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

James is gritting his teeth so hard his jaw is beginning to hurt, the rest of his cigarette practically consumed by now and crushed between his pursed lips.

“As if you aren’t worse than me,” Crouch retorts.

“I don’t know, mate, I don’t stalk any of my neighbours—”

“You’re gonna be changing your tune so fucking quickly when you actually see him—”

“Yeah, you keep saying that, but I’m not so sure. First of all, I don’t usually like blokes like that. And second of all, you don’t discriminate much, and you tend to have the weirdest taste ever—”

“Okay, shut up, he’s there,” Crouch hisses excitedly, hitting Mulciber on the side of his arm. “He’s actually there, fuck—”

“Wait, seriously?” Mulciber’s eyes widen and then he’s blinking quickly as he attempts to follow Crouch’s line of sight. He even slides closer to him, his gaze searching like mad until it finally settles. His mouth parts in a silent exhale. “Fucking hell, you were right.”

James is also following suit, head snapping up and eyes already zeroing on the balcony he knows to belong to Alphard’s flat. Like Crouch said, Regulus is there, and he seems to be looking for something inside of one of the couple of boxes lying on the floor. He has this little furrow between his eyebrows, the one that indicates he’s concentrating hard and that James has always found to be incredibly adorable, and his tongue is peeking from between his teeth.

The issue is that apart from an oversized shirt that probably belongs to either Alphard or his brother, and his underwear, Regulus doesn’t seem to be wearing anything else.

“I told you,” Crouch exclaims, gaze following every single one of Regulus’ movements. “I fucking told you.”

“You really did,” Mulciber breathes out, a bit in awe. He whistles softly. “Shit, look at those legs.”

“I know,” Crouch sighs dreamily. “And the waist, dude.”

“Yeah. He’s a bit feminine, though, don’t you think?”

“Just how you like ‘em.”

“Piss off. Thought you weren’t gonna share.”

“And I’m not.”

“Well, mate, you’ll have to because there’s no way I’m not tapping that at least once—”

A gust of wind lifts Regulus’ shirt up for a few seconds, and the boy seems too busy fighting off a shiver to bother pulling it back down. There’s a flash of the flat of his stomach, the paleness of his skin littered with moles, the dip of his hips. And worst of all, they all catch sight of his underwear, which is a light purple and adorned with a little bow, and looks suspiciously like—

“Panties,” Crouch murmurs, and when James focuses on him once again, he’s disgusted to find him almost drooling, eyes dark. “Holy shit, dude, he’s wearing panties.”

“What the fuck,” Mulciber says, shaking his head like he can barely believe it. James isn’t even sure he’s breathing. “What the fuck.”

“Fuck me, that’s so hot—”

“Mate, I’ve never been so thankful for the wind in my fucking life—”

“I know right—”

“What kind of bloke just walks around his house wearing panties? Not that I’m complaining, but—”

“Oh, dude, I bet he’s a slag, he’s basically asking for it—”

James spits his cigarette out and then he’s pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a disbelieving laugh escaping his mouth. His eyes look up to the sky for a moment or two before he begins to make his way towards the two boys, a dangerous grin curving his lips.

It takes them a few seconds to notice his presence, too busy ogling Regulus like the fucking creeps they are, but when they do, they both take an instinctive step back. Mulciber mostly seems to be taken aback, but Crouch is wary, a frown twisting his features.

“Hello there,” James greets them, hands slipping into the pockets of his denim jacket. “Having fun?”

“Hey, mate,” Mulciber responds a bit hesitantly. “We were just—”

“What the hell do you want?” Crouch asks him almost at the same time.

James’ smile widens, and he raises his hands in mock surrender. “So hostile,” he chastises with a disappointed shake of his head.

“You came out of fucking nowhere,” Crouch huffs out. “And you don’t look familiar. I don’t think I’ve seen you around—”

“I mean, you seem quite busy perving on that kid, so I’m not surprised you didn't notice me.”

Crouch stiffens immediately, a scowl taking over his expression, and Mulciber gulps, glancing at his friend briefly before he takes another step back.

“Didn’t know looking was a crime,” Crouch snarks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“It’s not,” James concedes, nodding slowly, almost considering. “But it’s fucking disgusting.”

Crouch scoffs loudly, and somehow, James’ grin spreads further at the noise. It also becomes considerably sharper.

“What’s it to you?” Crouch questions, moving forward, attempting to get in James’ space, intimidate him. He has the height, that’s for sure, even though James is convinced he has an inch or two on the boy. But knowing what he knows, the kind of training he’s undergone, and the fact that he’s currently armed, James kind of wants to laugh. “Huh? It’s none of your fucking business, dude. And it’s not like we’re harming anyone—”

“Maybe.” James shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s really pissing me off, though. And you don’t want to piss me off, kiddo.”

“The fuck?” Crouch mutters with an incredulous laugh. He tilts his head back just to glance at his friend briefly, who’s shooting daggers at him, before he focuses on James once again. “Who do you think you are? I don’t care about your feelings, dude. Did we offend you? What, are you two much of a pussy to deal with a couple of dirty comments?”

James arches an eyebrow, his fingers twitching at his sides with the need to reach for his gun. He isn’t going to. There’s no need to escalate the situation, and the kid is right, it’s not like they had been doing anything illegal, no matter how furious James is about the whole thing. Besides, he isn’t the type to use a weapon against someone who’s unarmed. That’s simply not the kind of person, or cop, James wants to be.

But god, does he want to.

“Listen, mate, I’m not looking for trouble, okay?” James tells him, doing his goddamn best to keep himself calm. “But I won’t tolerate you talking about him like that—”

“No one’s asking you to,” Crouch snaps, jaw clenched. “You weren’t even part of the conversation.”

“That’s not—”

“And besides, if he didn’t want anyone looking, then perhaps he shouldn’t be prancing around wearing fucking panties.”

James grits his teeth together so harshly he swears he hears something crack. “He’s at home. He’s allowed to wear whatever the hell he wants. That’s not an invitation for guys like you to stare like creeps—”

“He’s out on the balcony,” Crouch retorts, smirking at James, so annoyingly self-assured. “Everyone can see him. And he doesn’t seem very concerned about it.”

“He shouldn’t have to. He deserves to be comfortable around his flat without having to consider desperate lonely assholes who resort to stalking a kid to try and find some wanking material.”

Crouch blinks at him a couple of times, like he’s a little surprised by the sudden display of aggressiveness. Sure, James’s irritation had been noticeable from the beginning, which is probably the main reason why Crouch got immediately defensive.

But even James can admit that his anger is beginning to get away from him, and that’s never a good sign. It happens often, more than he’d like to admit, but he swears he usually has more self-restraint. Especially when teenagers are involved.

Crouch is just being this confrontational because his friend is with him. James knows the type a little too well; he’s encountered them a dozen times, arrested a handful too, and then let them go with just a light slap on the wrist. He always goes a bit soft on them, because they’re just kids being stupid, and he used to be as bad, if not worse, than them.

James is aware of all this, just like he’s aware of the fact that he’s overreacting, and he should’ve just given them a warning and gone back inside. He never meant to get derailed like this. Honestly, he’s taking so long he’s a bit surprised Andromeda or Sirius haven’t come out to get him.

But his brain seems very against cooperating. James can feel whatever little rationality he possesses slipping through his fingers, and truth be told, he isn’t even actually trying to grab it.

“You’re way too bothered about this,” Crouch unnecessarily points out after a beat, looking James up and down, searching for something.

James exhales loudly through his nose. “Just because you clearly lack some common decency—”

“Nah, don’t try to give me that shit,” Crouch interrupts him, waving his hand around lazily. “Who’s Reg to you? Because you definitely know him.”

James has to bite his tongue to stop himself from barking at Crouch for daring to use a nickname for Regulus when they barely know each other. Crouch merely helped him with some boxes, and he clearly had ulterior motives, anyway. If James has anything to say in the matter—and he fucking does—that’s as far as their interactions will go.

“You his uncle or something?” Crouch goes on, unrelenting. “Step-dad? Family friend?”

He rolls his eyes, and is about to tell Crouch to fucking quit it, because James has no intentions of entertaining this, or satisfy his curiosity, when Crouch’s mouth twists into something more sinister, a dangerous glint shining in his gaze.

“Or,” Crouch continues, voice going low, “maybe you also wanna shag him.”

James’ breath stutters in his chest, eyes widening in pure, unfiltered shock, his mind refusing to even consider processing the sentence that just left Crouch’s mouth. Part of James just wants to laugh until tears are running down his face, while another feels ill enough he worries he might be about to be sick.

He doesn’t even get a chance to decide on a proper reaction before Crouch presses on, acting like he’s oh so clever but clearly not enough to know when to quit it.

The kid must lack a sense of preservation. There’s no other explanation.

“Is that it?” Crouch shakes his head, tutting at James. “Oh, that’s hilarious. And fucking vile. You gotta be, at least, in your mid-thirties. I bet you only caught us looking because you were doing the same. Is that what does it for you? Pretty, seventeen year old boys wearing panties? Not like I can blame you. He’s definitely a sight for sore eyes. I don’t even wanna imagine how many times you’ve gotten off to—”

Crouch never manages to finish his awful spiel, because James is pulling out his gun, seeing fucking red, almost shaking with the fury coursing through his veins. His blood is boiling while he pushes the barrel of the gun into Crouch’s forehead, taking sick satisfaction in the way the boy pales, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out of it.

Mulciber lets out what can only be a squeal, and when James lays eyes on him, the boy takes a couple of steps back, readying himself to turn away and run. James only needs to arch an eyebrow at him and shift his wrist a little, enough for the gun to be pointed at him instead, to make him freeze.

He isn’t one to enjoy a power trip, not under these circumstances, when he's basically threatening a couple of teens, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t delight in the fear in their eyes. In watching all that bravado vanish from Crouch’s expression, from his pose.

“Not so brave now, are you?” James asks Crouch with a quirk of his mouth. The boy just stares at him in silence, lips pursed and shoulders stiff. “C’mon, up against the wall, both of you.”

They both hesitate; Mulciber as if he’s struggling to get his limbs to cooperate, and Crouch in a last attempt at defiance.

James lets out a mirthless chuckle, his head giving a disappointed shake.

“I don’t like repeating myself,” he hisses, tone hard and cold. “I said up against the wall. Now.”

It still takes them a couple more seconds, but the moment James clicks his tongue, his hold tightening around the gun, both boys finally move, rushing to one of the walls in the courtyard. James can tell they’ve been stopped by the police before, with the way they stand facing the wall and immediately lift their hands and put them flat against the cold stone.

They probably have never been this close to a gun, though, if Mulciber’s trembling and the tension hanging off Crouch’s soldiers is anything to go by.

“Listen, man we—we didn’t mean to—” Mulciber starts, tripping all over his words. He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and James wishes he could feel any pity for him.

“Did I say you could speak?” James cuts him off, leaning forward until he’s sure Mulciber can feel the heat of his body, the barrel of the gun grazing the back of his head. “Shut your fucking mouth before you make this worse for yourself.”

Mulciber nods fast and urgent, pressing his lips tight together and shutting his eyes briefly.

“This time, I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen,” James goes on, shifting his attention to Crouch, who’s openly glaring at the wall in front of him. When James moves the gun and presses it against the boy’s nape, Crouch inhales a bit shakily. “I don’t want to see you around Regulus ever again. In fact, don’t even look in his general direction. For all intents and purposes, he doesn’t exist to you, okay?”

“You’re a fucking freak,” Crouch spits out through gritted teeth. “What would Reg think if—”

“You won’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you, Crouch,” James cuts him off swiftly, his tone eerily calm. “And while we’re on the topic, quit it with the nickname, will ya? It’s not like you’re ever gonna be close enough with Regulus to be allowed to use it, anyway.”

“I was right, you really wanna fuck him,” Crouch retorts in a snarl, turning his head a little, just so his green eyes can bore into James’ brown ones. “How aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I were you. You’re the one who shouldn’t be around him—”

James digs the gun into Crouch’s skin to the point he’s convinced it must sting, but the boy doesn’t so much as flinch. Still, it has the desired effect, and Crouch closes his mouth, his words dying in his throat.

“I’m a very reasonable man, Crouch, but you’re testing my bloody limits,” James tells him, using the weapon to tilt the boy’s head forward, until his forehead is pressed uncomfortably into the wall. “Take Regulus’ name out of your goddamn mouth or I promise I’ll put a bullet in your skull.”

Mulciber lets out a choked off noise, but James doesn’t even bother glancing at him. His eyes are fixed on Crouch, who manages a small grin that looks more like a sneer than anything else.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Crouch mutters. James doesn’t understand how he can still talk back when he literally has a gun to his head, and he can’t help but admire the boy slightly. You gotta be very bold. Or very stupid.

James chuckles lowly, fingers caressing the weapon, playing with the idea of cocking the gun just so Crouch can hear it. Actually feel the threat. “Fucking try me.”

“Barty, please—” Mulciber whispers shakily, voice sounding suspiciously wet.

James is opening his mouth, so furious he isn’t sure of what will come out of it this time, when someone else interrupts him.

“What the fuck!? James?” Regulus yells from somewhere to his right, and James nearly drops the gun.

He immediately steps away from the boys, his head whipping around in search of the owner of the voice. James’ eyes find Regulus already making his way down the stairs of the courtyard, and something inside seems to settle at the sight. He can hear Crouch and Mulciber murmuring to each other before they run away, taking advantage of James’ distraction, and he isn’t even annoyed about it. He doesn’t care, really. Not anymore.

Regulus is still clad in just the oversized shirt and those bloody panties, but he isn’t flashing anyone this time, which James—and his sanity—deeply appreciates. Regulus had also been smart enough to put on a pair of slippers before going outside. It wouldn’t be the first time Regulus decided to step into the courtyard barefooted and ended up hurting himself.

James rushes to his side, but Regulus takes a step back as soon as he reaches him, the frown twisting his features becoming more pronounced.

“Put the gun away,” Regulus snaps before James can ask. He blinks at the boy, and then down at the weapon, which is still between his fingers. He listens immediately, sticking it inside the waistband of his jeans and then raising both hands, showing Regulus his naked palms.

The boy appears to relax slightly, but the furrow between his eyebrows doesn’t disappear.

“Regulus, it’s too cold for you to be out like this. C’mon, let’s go back inside, and—” James begins, dropping his arms and extending one towards Regulus, who curls a little into himself to avoid the touch.

James swears he feels a pang in his chest at the action.

“What the fuck was that about?” Regulus cuts in, sharp and confused and bordering on upset. James has to make an active effort not to wince.

“Reggie—”

“No, stop it. None of that. I want you to explain.”

James slips a hand under his glasses to rub at his eyes, a soft sight making it past his lips. “It was—nothing, Reg, you don’t have to—”

“Nothing?” Regulus repeats with a scoff, disbelieving. “Really? Because it didn’t look like nothing. You were threatening two guys with your bloody gun in the middle of the courtyard, for fuck’s sake—”

“It was just—just a tiny misunderstanding,” James attempts to excuse himself, hating how high-pitched he sounds. He’s usually decent at lying; mostly, because his job requires him to do it often. “We were talking, and then, then the conversation got a bit out of hand—”

Regulus snorts, but the noise lacks amusement. “Oh, it got out of hand alright. That was my neighbour you were about to shoot—”

“Please, you know I wouldn’t have,” James sighs, rolling his eyes, and he means it. In a perfect world, he'd be able to shoot assholes with no consequences. Unfortunately, this isn’t a perfect world, and James is a bit too aware of what lines can never be crossed.

“I’m not so sure,” Regulus murmurs, the beginning of a pout pulling at his lips. “What has Barty even done to you?”

James’ face immediately twists into a scowl, both at the reminder of his whole argument with Crouch and at the casual manner in which Regulus says his name. From what James knows, Regulus and Crouch have only interacted one time, and it wasn’t anything purposeful, or memorable. He doesn’t like the familiarity in Regulus’ voice, or the use of a first name. Crouch isn’t the kind of friend James wants for Regulus.

“Barty,” James repeats, chewing the word, its taste unbearably sour. “Didn’t know you were so close,” he mutters a bit darkly.

“We’re not,” Regulus retorts without missing a beat, squinting his eyes at James.

“Well, it bloody seems like it—”

“James,” Regulus snaps, making him pause. “Answer the question.”

He blinks down at the boy a couple of times, but then he ends up letting out a quiet huff, scratching at the back of his head as he briefly averts his eyes.

It’s a bit ridiculous, the power this kid has over James. He can’t help but be embarrassed, sometimes, because Regulus shouldn’t be allowed to speak to him like this, to demand answers like he’s owed something, like James is at his fucking beck and call.

He is, though. And James is painfully aware that he’s the main responsible for that spoiled attitude of Regulus. He encourages it, even. Because no matter how much he chastises himself for being so lenient, so soft when it comes to the other boy. James can’t stop. He’d give Regulus the world if he asked.

“Crouch was being a fucking creep, okay?” James tells him, still avoiding the boy’s gaze. “Apparently he’s been stalking you, trying to get a peek. He even brought his friend with him.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They only came to the courtyard because they were hoping to catch you out on the balcony at some point.”

There’s a moment of silence, and when James finally chances a glance at Regulus, he finds him wrinkling his nose.

“What a weirdo,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t appear to be half as upset as James believes he should be. “It’s not like there’s much to see, anyway—”

“You’re basically half-naked,” James deadpans, staring pointedly at Regulus’ pale legs before his eyes settle on the boy’s face once more. “Not to mention, you’re wearing—”

James closes his mouth so fast his teeth click hard enough to make him see stars momentarily. Regulus tilts his head at him, mostly confused but also slightly wary, and James’ stomach turns uncomfortably.

“I’m wearing what?” Regulus questions, before he takes a step closer to James.

“It’s—it doesn’t matter.” James shakes his head.

“It clearly does, if it got you all worked up like that, to the point you pulled out your fucking gun,” Regulus presses, taking another step. And then another. And another. James has to force himself to stay put, to stop his face from doing anything weird, to keep his voice level.

“It doesn’t matter,” James reiterates, so fucking relieved at how calm he sounds. “Just make sure you keep your distance from those two. It’s clear they’re only interested in you for one reason, and that’s not the kind of company you wanna keep.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I just do.”

“Less than a week ago you were encouraging me to meet more people my age and make friends—”

“Not them,” James hisses, a muscle spasming on the side of his jaw. “Not them, Regulus.”

The boy raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s your choice.”

“I’m not claiming it is,” James sighs, unable to hide the exasperation in his voice. He never forgets the fact that Regulus is only seventeen, petty and stubborn and childish, but moments like these are quite the reminder. “I’m simply trying to look out for you, Reggie.”

“Of course,” Regulus scoffs, looking offended, and James can barely suppress the urge to throw his hands up in the air. What did he say now? “Because you always know better, right, James?”

“Um,” he begins, a little unsure, his palm rubbing at his stubble distractedly. “Kinda, yeah?”

Regulus’ mouth twitches until it curls into a snarl, and James curses himself inside his head, already itching to take it back, to fix it before Regulus can get properly angry at him.

“Not like there’s anything wrong with that!” he rushes to clarify, before Regulus even has the chance to open his mouth. “It’s just—well, natural, innit? It’s not because you’re stupid, Reggie, quite the opposite, really, and you know I trust you enough to know that you’ll make the right decisions—”

“But?” Regulus prompts, impatient, openly glaring at James. There’s nothing intimidating about the boy, and yet, James does feel the odd urge to cower under his gaze.

“But,” James goes on, doing his best to keep his tone soft and gentle, “I’m older than you,” he explains, not surprised in the slightest when Regulus rolls his eyes so hard his head tilts back. It doesn’t deter James. “I’m more experienced. That’s just life, love. Nothing wrong with that, and it doesn’t mean that you don’t know what you’re doing. You’re just a kid—”

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Regulus snaps, and it’s harsh, bordering on vicious, and James is so taken aback it takes him a handful of seconds to manage a reply.

“You are,” James argues, careful but firm, wrinkles all over his forehead. “You are a kid, Regulus.”

The boy makes a derisive sound. “Only when it suits you.”

James furrows his eyebrows slightly even though his lips make an aborted attempt at curving into a small smile. He tries to swallow, but a knot seems to have settled at the back of his throat, uncomfortable and impossible to get rid of.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks Regulus, and he goes for lighthearted, almost teasing, he really does. James doesn’t think he quite manages it, however. Mostly, because he’s a bit terrified of the response.

“You tell me,” Regulus murmurs, shrugging lazily. “Were you looking?”

“Looking? At what?”

“You said Barty and his friend were basically perving on me. Were you, too?”

A wave of nausea assaults James’ entire body, and for a moment, he’s sure he’s about to start gagging. He shakes his head furiously, and a few times at that, just to make sure to get his point across, despite Regulus’ expression never changing.

God, James is dying to put some distance between them, but he doesn’t—he worries about Regulus misinterpreting it—

“No,” he states slowly, his tone not leaving any room for argument. “No. Fuck, Reggie, you know I would never. You’re—shit, you’re a child and I’m not—I wouldn’t—I don’t see you like that—”

“You sure?” Regulus crosses his arms over his chest, unimpressed by James’ distress. “Because you seemed very bothered about my outfit choice.”

“Not like that,” James groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just—they were being creeps, and I don’t like people seeing you like—like this and making such inappropriate comments, but it’s not—it was never about me, or how I feel. I don’t care about what you wear—”

“You don’t care that I’m wearing these?” Regulus interrupts him softly, and a second later he’s lifting his shirt, showing off the goddamn panties and part of his belly in the process.

A wave of unbearable heat begins to climb up James’ neck, and he doesn’t allow himself more than a brief peek—mostly due to his lack of preparation—before one of his arms is shooting out, fingers wrapping tightly around Regulus’ wrist.

“Regulus,” James whisper-yells, glancing around in mild panic as he moves impossibly closer to the younger boy, attempting to cover his body with his own as best as he can. “What the actual fuck are you doing, anyone can see—”

“Come on, no one’s outside, it’s just us—” Regulus protests with a roll of his eyes, but when James digs his fingers in just the slightest bit harder and tugs insistently, he doesn’t resist, allowing his shirt to be pulled back down.

“Yeah, I bet you thought that too when you were on the balcony,” James grumbles, not letting go of the younger boy even with the panties finally out of sight. He knows better than to trust Regulus when he gets like this.

"You're being so dramatic," Regulus says with a tilt of his head, hands still playing with the hem of his shirt. "So what if they looked? It's not illegal."

"It should be," James grunts, his hold on Regulus' wrist never faltering.

"Okay, but it isn't," Regulus insists. "They didn't try anything, they didn't say anything to me, they didn't—"

"You weren't there, Reg." James shakes his head, trying to get rid of the whole encounter, vanish every single one of Crouch's disgusting words, all of his false accusations. "You don't—it was fucking awful. Made me sick to my fucking stomach."

"Jamie," Regulus mutters softly, delicately, like he's speaking to a spooked animal. James should hate it, should shut it down immediately, because he's the one that's supposed to do the comforting. Always the protector, looking after his Reggie. "It's like you say. They're just kids. Kids being kids."

"Don't excuse them—"

"I'm not! I'm not. You just seem very upset, and I don't like that. I'm fine, yeah? I don't care about what they said. It doesn't matter—"

"But it does!" James explodes, raising his voice and hating himself a little for it. He runs his free hand through his hair, messing it all up, pulling at the roots. "It fucking does. No one should fucking dare to even think that kind of shit about you. You're—you're so good, Reggie, so very lovely, and I don't—I refuse to let you go through that. I'm not gonna let anyone make you feel like you're some—some kind of object—"

"James—"

"You're too young, you don't get it just yet, but it's not—I won't fucking stand for it, Reggie. It may be innocent now, or harmless, but it won't always be. And you deserve only the very best, okay? I'll make sure those assholes stay far, far away from you even if it's the last thing I do."

Regulus' eyes widen as he stares up at James, so bright they look like liquid silver.

"Is that why you seemed so angry?" Regulus questions, sounding a bit out of breath for some reason. "Why you pulled out your gun? For me?"

"Not my proudest moment," James sighs. He'd probably do it again, but that doesn't mean he isn't aware it's wrong. James doesn't doubt that Lucius would take his gun away if he ever found out. "But yes, of course it was for you. I didn't mean to lose my cool like that, I just wanted to—to scare them off so they'd leave you alone, but they—" James pauses to swallow, his mouth dry and his tongue tasting something bitter. "Crouch is fucking vile, Reggie. Please, stay away from him."

"Okay," Regulus agrees with astounding ease. James is convinced he's heard wrong at first, because after all the fight he's put up, he can't quite believe he's suddenly giving in. "You really did it for me?"

James raises both eyebrows. "Yes, Reg. There's no one else I'd risk my badge for."

Regulus giggles, giddy and slightly pink in the face, and James is helpless to the grin that takes over his expression. He still hasn't let go of Regulus' wrist, but his hold loosens considerably, his thumb caressing the skin slowly.

"Would you have shoot them, too?" the boy wonders, batting his lashes. "If they hadn't stopped?"

Yes.

The response comes unbridled, nearly tumbling out of James' mouth against his will. It feels quite overwhelming, the knowledge that he'd be willing to go that far for Regulus, turn away from his morals and everything he believes in without a second of hesitation.

It's a bit of a struggle, keeping it from slipping past his lips and swallowing it back down before it gets the chance to cause some damage.

"Obviously not," he lies with a teasing roll of his eyes. "That'd be fucking insane."

Regulus pouts at that answer, and James can only chuckle fondly, giving his wrist a light squeeze before he finally lets go.

"But I'll always be there to protect you, Reggie," he goes on with a smile, reaching out to twirl one of the boy's curls between his fingers. "I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"I know," Regulus sighs, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Good. Now let's get you back inside, yeah? It's freezing, and you're gonna catch a cold at this rate, dressed like that."

"Can we wait five more minutes? Andy and uncle Alphard were still arguing when I went to look for you."

James looks up at the sky and groans dramatically, dragging a tiny laugh out of Regulus. He ends up nodding a second later, because he really doesn't want to get involved in whatever it is that's going on inside that flat. He just wants to get some lunch. After that altercation with Crouch and Mulciber, and then Regulus' interruption, James is fucking starving. Pub food will surely fix this mess of a morning. Especially if said pub food is made by Hope Lupin.

"Yeah, sure, I'd rather avoid it, if possible," James mutters. As soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, a shiver rattles Regulus' entire frame, both his hands coming up to rub distractedly as his upper arms. James' expression twists in a frown. "Reggie, you can't—wait, lemme just—"

He shrugs his denim jacket off and rushes to wrap it around Regulus' shoulders, who flinches in surprise before he relaxes once again. It seems to take him a second, but then he's slipping his arms through the sleeves, the garment way too big on him. Regulus is basically swimming in it, and James has to swallow down a laugh while he adjusts the jacket as best as he can.

"But what about you?" Regulus questions, concern seeping into his words as he watches James fuss over him.

James shakes his head with half a smile, tugging the jacket as low as it'll go. He doesn't button it up, but he makes sure to close it slightly, so Regulus is as covered as possible.

"I'm fine," James reassures him, even with goosebumps breaking all over his now exposed arms. "You're the one who's barely wearing anything. Besides, if you get ill your uncle will kill me."

"Why would he?" Regulus grumbles, burrowing into the jacket. He gives the collar a little sniff, and James is sure he intended to be discreet, but he notices it anyway. It makes his smile widen slightly. "It'd be my fault."

"Maybe. But I can't just stand by and watch. You're shaking, love—"

"Only a little!"

"Please," James snorts, hands grazing the hem of the jacket before they slide lower, fingers settling on the boy's thighs, feeling the goosebumps all over Regulus' skin. "If you're gonna lie, at least do it well. I know you're freezing cold, Reggie, I can feel it."

A small, high-pitched noise escapes Regulus' lips, and his face seems to become a bit redder. James assumes the cold must be really getting to him, so with an amused huff, he begins to stroke up and down Regulus' thighs, hoping to help the boy warm up slightly.

Regulus makes another sound, and then he's pressing even closer to James, clutching at his chest and resting his forehead against James' sternum. Another shiver wracks his small body, and James grips at his thighs, fondling them a bit more harshly. He shushes Regulus when the boy whimpers softly, and James lowers his head enough to drop a kiss on top of his curls.

"Don't worry, love, we'll be back inside soon," James reassures him quietly, hands stroking and squeezing without pause. His fingers slip under the jacket and under the shirt, trying to reach as much skin as possible. "Honestly, only you'd think that coming outside in just a top and your underwear is a good idea. I hope you've learnt your lesson."

"You sound like—like uncle Alphard," Regulus retorts, stuttering all over his words and filling James with fondness. "He's always scolding me about my outfit choices."

"I'm inclined to agree with him this time."

"Well, don't. You're supposed to—to be on my side. Always, Jamie."

James exhales loudly through his nose, grinning, helplessly endeared.

"You make it a bit difficult sometimes, love," he says to the top of Regulus' head. "I mean, look at you, you can't stop shivering—"

"It's not because of the cold," Regulus murmurs. It comes out too low and slightly muffled; James doubts he would've heard it if it weren't for how close they're standing.

"No?" James asks, a teasing edge to his voice.

Regulus shakes his head a couple of times, and then he's looking up, his eyes a little glazed as he glances at James. He's quite red, and his breathing appears to be slightly uneven, panting through parted lips.

"You're—you're touching me," Regulus explains, and there's something about how he says it that makes James tense up immediately, stomach twisting. There's nothing wrong with the word in itself, but the way Regulus pronounces it, so full of implications… Well, it sounds dirty. "It feels very nice, Jamie."

"So? I touch you all the time," James points out, his tone carefully neutral. He hasn't pulled away just yet, but his hands have stopped all movement.

"Not like this," Regulus whispers, and James swallows with some difficulty.

"Regulus—" he starts, a little strained.

"Is it because of the panties? You like 'em that much?"

James jumps away from him as if burned, and without giving the boy a single second to react, he begins to make his way towards the stairs, desperate to put some distance between them, to find some witnesses, anything to stop whatever it is that's wrong with his fucking brain.

He thinks he hears Regulus calling after him, but James barely acknowledges it, curling into himself as he climbs the steps two at a time.

"Sorry, Reg, this wind is killing me, I can't do it, I'm going back inside!" he announces without even bothering to turn around and look at the boy, his voice close to breaking at the end. "Besides, if we don't leave soon, the pub is gonna be rammed!"

James can't tell if Regulus says anything in response, too busy trying not to trip in his haste to return to the flat. His face feels like it's on fucking fire, and his hands won't stop trembling where they're resting at his sides.

When he finally opens the door and a screaming match between Alphard, Andromeda and Sirius welcomes him, James can only let out a relieved sigh. He isn't even annoyed when Sirius notices him and decides to include him in whatever stupid fight they're in the middle of.

By the time Regulus slips inside, eerily silent, the argument is over, and everyone is getting ready to go to lunch. Andromeda takes one look at him and rushes him to get dressed, threatening to leave without him if he isn't ready in the next fifteen minutes.

James can feel Regulus' eyes on him the whole time. While the boy walks towards his room to get ready, on their way to the pub, during the meal, when Alphard stands up to take a call from, presumably, Lucius. Even while James sends a quick text to Frank, telling him to meet them at the station, and Sirius leans closer to his brother to make a very inappropriate comment about Remus, who's pouring a pint behind the bar.

He doesn't look back a single time.

[stargazedwinchester]

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `love letters, sam winchester

Summary: You keep finding love notes from a not so anonymous sender. Word Count: 836

For the past week or so, you keep finding tiny, folded pieces of paper shoved through the vents of your locker. You can never figure out who it is, because every time it’s almost as if it’s posted before the school day ends.

You have tried endlessly to catch the culprit - sitting close to your locker during lunch, hanging out in the main quad, eyeing every student that walked past your locker. Nothing seemed to work.

Today, you have to stay behind to catch up with your lecturer. You’re not falling behind, but by college law, you’re needed for a review to see how you’re doing. You’re standing beside the classroom door, each person given a time slot, and you’re up next. The door opens and Sam Winchester walks out. “Thank you.” He looks back at the lecturer before facing down toward the floor, then up at you. He holds the door open for you to enter the classroom. Sam’s a quiet kid, usually keeps to himself when he’s in class or out in the library on his laptop. You don’t know much about him, but you wouldn’t mind getting to know him.

He’s wearing a red Stanford sweater, the bagginess making him appear bulkier than he already is. His bangs cover his forehead and a smile forms on his face. You’ve had a few classes with him; he usually sits a few rows ahead of you whilst you find yourself favouring one of the back rows. His eyes tantalise with yours, the flecks of green and brown reflecting from the sunshine glittering on to his face. “Thanks.” You return, and he flashes a smirk at you. It almost feels like his eyes don’t leave your body as you enter the classroom.

After your meeting, you fallback to your locker, placing the notepad filled with notes from the meeting into your locker. There’s a fresh note rammed into the vent, folded up neatly. You unfold it and it reads:

“You looked cute today. I hope I see you around tomorrow.”

The messy handwriting made it hard to make out, but when you figured it out, it made your heart skip a beat. Who is this sending you notes?

You’re sitting outside for lunch - basking in the sun. You’re sitting on a blanket with a couple of friends. Birds are flying high above you, not a cloud to be seen. Trees rustle nearby with squirrels crowding together, gathering food.

Glancing over to your locker, you notice Sam is hanging around it. You quickly dismiss your friends to finally confront the culprit.

“So, it’s you!” You half yell, not wanting to cause a scene. “What the hell are you talking about?” Sam gets defensive, his eyes widening. “You’re the one putting the letters in my locker, aren’t you?”

“N-no! I swear to God it’s not me,” Sam stutters. He’s not helping himself. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank God I finally figured it out. It’s been bugging me for so long.” You take the letter from his hand, rapidly straightening it out. This time, it reads:

“You’re so pretty sitting in the sunshine. I wish I had the nerve to say something, but you make me nervous.”

It feels like all you’ve done is stare at the paper. Sam’s patiently waiting for an answer, clearly too scared to say anything to you. He stands there awkwardly, his hands stuffed in his pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. You glance up at him, and his eyes double take, fleeting over your delicate features. “So it is you.” You confirm, and he shrugs. “Surprise.”

He avoids eye contact with you, looking anywhere but right at you. “You like me?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re…” He scoffs, rubbing his face and turning around slightly, before turning back to face you. “You’re smart and you know exactly what you’re talking about. You’re kind, not afraid to stand up for yourself and others. And from what I see in front of me, you’re pretty cute.” He tightens his lips, looking at you as if he can’t believe the words that just fell out of his mouth. “And you know all of this… how?”

“I’m observant.”

“Fair enough.” You fold the note back up, placing it into your purse. You stare at him, waiting for an answer. He stares back. “What now?”

“You gonna take me out on a date or what?” You jab at him, half playfully. Sam looks take aback by your words, as if he never expected you to be so upfront. He stalls. “Uh… yeah, if that’s what you want?” Sam ruffles the hair on the back of his head. He looks at you bashfully; a childlike smile appears suddenly on his face. You place everything in your locker before locking it. “Don’t be silly. Any girl would want that.” You admit, and Sam smirks.

“Then let’s not waste time.” He fumbles in his pockets for his car keys. “I’ll drive.”

[fictioninmyblood]

Back to Bed Pt. 3

Summary: Terry and Y/N had been married for just over 7 years with 3 beautiful children and a blooming self defense business they’d built together to show for it. Having started their relationship at the beginning of Y/N’s journey into discovering her submissiveness and Terry’s first stationing as an instructor - Terry had been her only dom and thus knew her like the back of his hand and Y/N has been the only sub to experience the harshest version of his dom giving her the same privilege over him. Having been pregnant with their baby girl upon coming home to the Sandy Springs situation, Terry has been using it as an excuse, too afraid to lean all the way into his dom personality the way he had with Y/N before his last tour.

After they get into an argument, again, about the events of Silver Springs and how even after the last few years of stitching their life back together, he still only talked to Summer about everything that happened and was handling her with kid gloves, Y/N separates from him best she can. Completely at a crossroads of what to do to feel like she’s still her husband’s wife and losing all the fight to try and figure it out, she gives Terry the silent treatment and isolates from him, doing her best to only be in the same room with him when the kids are. After weeks of her barely acknowledging him or the argument, Terry is tired of going to bed alone when his wife is sleeping in the guest room right below him. His plan? Let the dom in him handle it and finally confess his monsters.

WARNINGS: 18+ themes, Minors DNI, d/s themes, smut, angst

Tags: @kirayuki22 @blyffe @scorpiosaintt @kaylaahisthebestest- @captainwithoutmakingitlove @nayaesworld

A/N: Thank you to all the Terry girls out there that have created a monster in me for this man in literally less than a week. Story inspired by @megamindsecretlair ‘s “I Swear I’ll Never Leave” oneshot and @keyaho ‘s “R.E.L.L.S.” series.

A/N: There will be at least one more part. Kinda proofread, sorry in advance for any mistakes.

A/N: My work is NOT to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than this) without my explicit consent and recognition.

As Terry took in her look of pure pleasure he thanked whoever was out there listening for his wife and her natural gift of giving. Even in taking her own pleasure she poured out an overflow of her peace of mind that refilled him in a new way. After all this time holding back the worst of himself she was holding his hand into not being afraid of that part of himself. He hadn’t seen it before but she was doing exactly what he said they needed.

Y/N couldn’t see Terry processing all of his emotions about how things were playing out. All she knew was that one moment she was looking over her shoulder at him and the next she was straining to look up at him from the floor as he dragged her by her hair. The swiftness of his movements made it impossible for her to react just like before, but she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She struggled to be able to keep up on her hands and knees as he kept moving with purpose around the couch and up the stairs to their bedroom.

Although Terry was relieved in realizing his wife was responding the way he needed, it still pissed him off that she kept pushing his control. Being who he was, control was not only his bread and butter but his very breath of life. Even though she had always been the one to test the bounds of what he thought was fortified, he still was upset that he couldn’t even keep himself from playing right into her hands. She wanted to cum, he wanted to make her wait, but she pushed the right buttons and got exactly what she wanted. Even though he knew he hadn’t, not being able to maintain his disciplined restraint made him feel like a failure as her Dom. It was his responsibility to be and act reliably so that she could deviate as much as she needed.

As he half dragged her up to their bedroom, simultaneously fuming and fighting not to cream his pants from how things were unfolding, he looked down at her just as she said, 

“Big daddy, wait. I can’t keep up.”

Halfway up the stairs and even more determined to hurry up and get back to their room, he responded, “You better figure that shit out kitten.”

She moaned and fumbled trying to do just that, but the closer they got to the bedroom, the wetter she got and the fuzzier her brain became. At this point she was a fucking faucet for him. Despite the sting of the steps hitting her knees, the burn of the carpet against her skin, and the growing tension at the base of her skull, Y/N felt like she had found nirvana and it lay in her husband's hands. 

By the time Terry got them into the bedroom, Y/N had red knees and a sticky mess between her legs. Watching her wiggle in her kneeled position at his feet to try and create some type of friction stroked his ego. He was doing this to her, taking up the space in her mind, body, & heart, stroking her ego and satisfying her animal desires. Despite the bumps and bruises, she was wearing an expression of pure ecstasy that he put there. After so long since they played this rough, it was a welcomed familiar sensation that had been long overdue.

Y/N was struggling to sit still and keep her hands in her lap as Terry kept an unwavering eye on her. The two of them taking in the silence before the storm with Terry standing and Y/N kneeling at his feet.

“As much as I wanna stuff that throat of yours until you can’t speak for the rest of the week mamas-”

Y/N couldn’t help but close her eyes and picture that hauntingly beautiful scene, moaning just loud enough for Terry to catch.

“-we both know that you love having me in your mouth entirely too much and you deserve a real punishment.”

When Y/N opened her eyes again to meet Terry’s, her pussy was clenching desperately at nothing from thinking about just how rewarding giving head was to her and what punishment he would eventually choose instead.

“Yes big daddy.”

“Do I have permission to control your senses lil mama? Can you handle that right now?”

“Yes big daddy.”

Y/N was stuck staring at his hands when Terry used one of those beautiful long fingers to tuck under her chin and lift her head to look him in the eyes.

“Do I have permission?” he repeated.

Focusing a little more, Y/N figured out what he was waiting for and said, “Yes big daddy, you have permission to control my senses.”

Terry smiled and gave her a quick peck with a ‘good girl’.

She couldn’t help the cheesy smiled that appeared from those words if she tried as Y/N said, “thank you daddy.”

Terry moved swiftly and efficiently like he’d mapped out the exact way to get what he was looking for. He started with taking her sight, tying a satin purple scarf around her eyes as a symbol of recognition of her status in his life. No matter their disagreements, spats, or periods of separation, she would always be his queen, the key to his royal bloodline. No other person was held in as high of a regard as she was and him choosing this particular color to take her sight showed her the exact vision she needed despite being thrust into the dark. Their dynamic hadn’t changed all that much and his chosen symbolism confirmed just that. No matter how much he tore her ass up in this session or any other again, his love and loyalty would always be true. 

Using his military training to his advantage, Terry moved soundlessly around the room, watching Y/N fidget from the anticipation of trying to figure out what was coming next. The longer he took the harder it became for her to keep her hands in her lap and her bottom on her heels. She was desperate to lift up from her kneeled position and play in her pussy, but after the last reaction she received from doing that she chose to behave though it took every ounce of practiced restraint.

By the time Terry had silently laid out all of the supplies he would need to execute the plans he had for the rest of the evening, Y/N was a mess. She was visibly shaking, vibrating with restless energy from the effort of keeping her hands exactly where Terry expected as she moved her head to catch the barest sounds of his movements, trying to guess what was coming. She knew she had pushed hard enough for a pleasurable punishment and if she tried anymore then she would be jeopardizing the delicate balance she had gotten them both to in this moment, but her million-miles-a-minute mind was toying with the outcome of every possibility. 

Her nipples were hard points and the sleep shirt she wore had turned almost painfully uncomfortable with every brush her slight movements made. By the time Terry made his presence known behind her, lifting the fabric off off her body after scaring Y/N into damn near jumping out of her skin from the sudden drop of his favorite rope to the sheets, she’d imagined too many scenarios. The weight of his presence immediately made her mind start to go blank again, offering a reprieve from her anticipation. 

As soon as she felt him start to bind her arms and hands behind her back she was able to lean all the way into the comfort of thoughtlessness. The pleasurable fog rolled in faster and faster as she began to recognize the comfort of the dragonfly sleeve knots Terry was making, a favorite method for them both. And when he added a ball gag to his masterpiece, standing back to watch his work turn her overthinking mind all the way off Y/N was grateful for this opportunity to reconnect with her husband. If the silent and deadly distance they’d been experiencing the last few years were the only way to get to this moment, she knew she’d do it all over again. She let a few tears slip and couldn’t even be mad they had escaped. This feeling of simultaneous peace, ecstasy, helplessness, and power could not be matched or replicated with anyone else nor did she want it to be.

[iabggsyk]

Hear me out guys... Gethen being Sophie's bio dad has some pretty solid evidence once you think about it.

In Legacy Cassius makes a comment on how Sophie uses her telepathy (and just how she acts in general, tending to think using her heart/emotions first in situations) and says that she acts a lot like an empath. He also mentioned how during the matchmaking process, telepaths are more often than not paired with empaths than any other Talent because of how well they go together (pretty sure this was Shannon telling us something) saying that he wouldn't be surprised if the black swan had one of her parents be an empath, and the other a telepath.

Later on in legacy we figure out who Sophie's bio mom is (no spoilers for those who haven't read that far yet), and she ends up being an empath, no surprise there, so that just leaves the dad.

If we go by Cassius' logic (one of the few times I will ever utter this phrase) then her father must be a telepath. Let's go through the list of known Telepaths (excluding those who were still minors at the time of Sophie's conception (because elves go by conception date instead of birth date)). *Spoiler warning below*

Kenric and Alden are both immediately out, Kenric for obvious reasons, and Alden because, as was stated in Neverseen, if Alden was the father, it would have made Fitz and Sophie half siblings, and the black swan would've shut that situation down before it even had the time to properly grow.

Mr. Forkle also said he wasn't the father, and I'm assuming he meant both of the Forkle twins. We can also rule out Tiergan because, looking at the official art, he looks nothing like Sophie. Prentice, Emery and Quinlin are also out for the same reason as Tiergan (Also Emery is Oralie's coworker so that couldn't work), with all three of them being described with dark skin.

This leaves Gethen. He looks the most like her in appearance: He is described as having straight blonde hair. Blonde hair is a recessive gene so it makes sense for Sophie to have blonde hair if both her bio parents have blonde hair. Secondly, he has straight hair. This is important because Oralie has ringlet curls, and curls are a dominant trait so if Sophie's bio dad had curly hair then she would, at the very least have more curly hair than the current wavy look in the official art and book description, implying that one of her parents has to have straight hair.

Lastly, it would add to the similarities that Sophie and Keefe have. If This were true then: 1 they'd both have an evil parent apart of the Neverseen (Gethen and Gisela), 2 they both have parents in a high position of power in Elvin society and instead of using that to try to change the bad things they personally don't like about the society they instead conform to it (Oralie and Cassius), 3 both of their parents are shitty, 4 they both have a complicated relationship with their perspective "less shitty, but still relatively shitty parents" (again, Oralie and Cassius), 5. Both of their less terrible parents are empaths, and 6. Both of their respective parents (minus Cassius, that one's complicated but I'm too tired to go into full detail tonight) experimented/genetically modified/let someone else experiment on/genetically modify their kid for a "greater cause".

So in conclusion... I'm 90% sure that Gethen is the bio dad. It's either that or some character we've never met until book 10. Or Shannon'll never reveal it. Either way, thanks for coming to my Ted talk about who the bio father of a fictional character is.