#as it turns out it wasn't really important

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x gn!

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (You're here)

Chapter 7

You were peacefully resting in your bed, dreaming about your celebrity crush when your obnoxious alarm clock rang. You groaned at the sound and normally you would turn it off but, today was an important day, today you were going to apply for your mentor. Without further ado, you got out of your bed, excited and somewhat nervous. It wasn't an exam but, you had to make a kind of resume and depending on that you were going to be assigned a journalism professional or as you would call it a mentor who would guide you in a more professional way. You would be fine with any professional, but you would like to have a mentor who had an excellent professional career and experience.Without thinking you got out of bed so you could start getting ready to go to college. You quickly had some breakfast and left your house like a flash, however, Mr. Johnson, the older man who rented you the apartment where you lived

.“Good morning, (Name)!” The older man who was sweeping the entrance of the building greeted you.

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson!” You greeted him with the same energy

“I see you are very happy today and with a lot of energy” he smiled at you

“That's right! It's a very important day today” you explained

“Oh really? Then I won't stop you anymore” the older man said softly

“Thank you! Have a nice day!” You said to walk again but out of nowhere you remembered something and turned around.

“Wait, Mr. Johnson!” You called him again and he turned to look at you

“Yes, (Name)?” He asked you

“I'll pay the rent today in the afternoon, it's just that in my rush I forgot the money in my apartment” you said a little embarrassed

“Oh, of course! Don't worry about that, kiddo!” said the older man with a smile

"Thank you very much! See you later, Mr. Johnson!" you said goodbye and then ran back to the university

Fifteen minutes later you arrived at the university faculty where your friends were already waiting for you to enter the classroom and finally be able to fill out those damn forms.

When you had your form in front of you, your mind went blank. What should you start with? Maybe with your grades! Or not, better with your practical performance! You were undecided and that was making you nervous since you only had an hour and a half to answer it.

No... You couldn't have an anxiety attack at that moment... Breathe...

Take a deep breath and close your eyes for a few moments.

You are a good student. A good human being

You can do this

Good. You knew how to start.

That was the fastest hour and a half of your life but you managed to make a decent resume in your opinion. You left the classroom with your friends, satisfied with your writing. With a calm heart you attended your other classes.

The day went by quickly in your opinion and soon you were on your way to your apartment. On the ground floor, there was Mr. Johnson again but now he was sweeping the entrance of his apartment. With a smile on your face you walked towards him.

That was the fastest hour and a half of your life but you managed to make a decent resume in your opinion. You left the classroom with your friends, satisfied with your writing. With a calm heart you attended your other classes.

The day went by quickly in your opinion and soon you were on your way to your apartment. On the ground floor, there was Mr. Johnson again but now he was sweeping the entrance of his apartment. With a smile on your face you walked towards him.

"Hello Mr. Johnson! I'll give you the rent money right now" you said and he seemed to pale a little when he saw you

"Y-you don't have to worry about that rent thing, (Mr. / Miss) (Name)" he said stuttering a little at first but with a nervous smile on his lips

"What? What do you mean? And you know you don't have to call me that right?" your smile faded a little when you heard the old man calling you

"I know, (Mr. / Miss) (Name)" he said still nervous "But I didn't know that..."

"You didn't know that...?" you asked, wanting to know what he meant

"I didn't know you were Bruce Wayne's kid..."

What the fuck?

"No, Mr. Johnson, he... he's not my father" you said a little confused

"No? He came to pay your rent and..." you interrupted

"He did what?" you said angrily

"Yes, and he also bought this building. He gave me a large sum of money and he's going to let me stay here with my family. He's a good man, your father" the older man smiled gratefully at you

No... He wasn't a good man. He and none of his other children were good to you.

What do they want from you now? Now that you were happy?

"No... I-I... I have to go..." you ran towards the elevators to go to your apartment

There weren't any cars that screamed Bruce Wayne outside the apartment complex and much less fit in the small parking lot. So that meant he was gone, right?

When you got to your apartment, you were going to open the door when you noticed something on the knob. It was a little scratched and turned more easily than in the morning.

Oh no...

Oh no...

Anyway you opened the door with your keys and even though everything was dark you could feel the presence of someone there.

"Okay, what the hell do you want?" you said as you turned on the lights so you could see Bruce better sitting on your couch

He was wearing a suit and had his hair combed, most likely he just left Wayne Enterprises.

"You have a nice apartment although... It's a little small" Bruce commented "I could give you a bigger one"

"Answer the question Wayne" you said with anger evident in your tone of voice

Bruce sighed and couldn't deny that hearing you call him by his last name as his rivals normally called him broke his heart a little more. He stood up and walked towards you to stop in front of you.

"I came to see how you were" Bruce said sincerely

You laughed at his words.

"See me? Me? Please! Don't make me laugh" you said with a smile but Bruce could see you were angry

"And you didn't have to pay my rent. I don't want to owe you more than I owe you"

"Owe me? (Name), you don't owe me anything" he was going to take your shoulder but you moved away from him

“I don’t want to have any relationship with you” you said while looking at him coldly

“As soon as I can I will pay you. Including my rent now” you sighed desperately

“You are my firstborn, my blood, (Name), I will always worry about you. We all worry about you” he said while trying to get closer to you but you just moved

I AM NOT YOUR CHILD!

It was what you wanted to yell at him but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you frustrated with just his presence so you just sighed. You were better than him than all of them.

“How did you find out that I lived here?” You asked him, a little calmer

“I am the best detective in the world” he pointed out

“And yet it took you several months to realize that I no longer lived in the mansion” you attacked back, but before he could answer, you spoke again

“Look, I am going to say this to your face. You aren’t welcome in my home, I don't want your charity, I don't want anything from you so please go away” you asked him in a firm voice

A voice that seemed very familiar to him

“Okay” he nodded after a few moments of silence “I’ll leave but I won’t give up”

After that promise he left your apartment making you let out a shaky sigh

How the hell did he know where you lived? That was your first thought, then you remembered Alfred and Duke but soon you dismissed those thoughts when you remembered that neither of them knew where you lived.

The next few days were quiet, Bruce hadn't shown up at your apartment, much less his children. Everything had been very quiet and that put you on alert because you knew very well that Bruce always kept his promises.

You were in class, focused on the professor when suddenly the director of your course named Mr. Wilson, knocked on the door of your classroom.

"Sorry to bother you professor" apologized Mr. Wilson "But I need Mx. (Last name)"

"Sure, Mx. (Last name), please" the professor pointed to you so you could go to the director

Intimidated, you got up from your place and walked towards Mr. Wilson. Once both of them walked out the door you finally spoke.

"Did something happen, Mr. Wilson?" you asked him

"The rector wants to talk to you" the man answered

That took you by surprise. Did something happen? Why did the rector of the university call you?

The rest of the walk, both remained silent until they reached the principal's office.

"The principal is already waiting for you" your director said without further ado and left you in front of the door

Your hands were shaking and you could feel your heart racing. What had you done wrong? That was the question that was going through your head and without thinking you knocked on the door.

"Come in" could be heard from inside and without further ado you went in

When he saw you, the principal smiled at you and motioned for you to sit in a chair in front of his desk

"Did something happen, principal?" You asked politely as you sat down on the chair

"No, nothing bad happened, Mx. (Last Name)" he assured you "I just wanted to tell you something"

"Sure" you nodded and paid attention to what he was going to say next

"Well, you see Mx. (Last Name), I didn't know your father was Bruce Wayne" he started to say but you interrupted him

What..? Bruce had come...? That left you speechless but you spoke anyway

"Y-yes... H-he's my biological father but what does that have to do with this"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne came and told me that from now on he's going to be paying for your tuition so your scholarship has been completely withdrawn"

You paled at his words.

Did they take away your scholarship?

Your scholarship that you had earned with so much effort?

"And he also made a nice donation to the university" the rector noticed your bad state

"But you don't have to worry, Mx. (Last name)! Or should I call you Mx. Wayne?" Your father will cover all your expenses"

"Please don't call me Wayne" you asked him

"Oh..." he seemed surprised but he nodded "Sure, as you wish"

"T-that would be all?" you asked with a broken voice

"Yes... sure" the principal nodded a little confused with your reaction

Without further ado you got up and ran out of the building.

Why did he even have to get involved in your studies?

You didn't want to go back to class anymore and you were going to ask one of your friends to pick up your things, for now, you had to relax. You ran your hands through your hair pulling it a little, while you sat under a tree. You put your head in your hands, trying to control your breathing.

(Name)?" a voice near you spoke and you recognized that voice perfectly

You got up and saw Tim kneeled in front of you while he looked at you with concern.

"Tim..." you said as more silent tears fell down your face. cheeks "W-what are you doing here..?"

"I came to see a friend but... Did something happen...?" he asked softly

"No, nothing" you said as you stood up and turned around while wiping your tears

"Hey! Wait" Tim grabbed your wrist but you quickly moved it away from him

"Could you leave me alone, Drake?" you said irritated

"Something happened to you" the young man confirmed

"And how do you know that something happened to me?" you asked him while crossing your arms

"You were crying and you're angry" he pointed out "Besides, you're not like this. You're normally a nice person"

"And what do you know about me, Drake?" you asked coldly "We've lived in the same place for several years but no more and don't pretend that you don't know why I'm like this. You're Bruce's right hand man, he tells you everything and the rest of his lackeys but mostly to you. You don't know even the half of who I am. So now leave me alone"

You turned around and walked away from him towards another direction on campus, leaving Tim surprised by your words.

"You heard them, didn't you?" Tim spoke into the earpiece he was wearing

Tim couldn't deny that your words didn't affect him but you were right, he didn't know you and he never bothered to do so and that makes him feel guilty...

What would have happened if he had given you a chance like Duke did? Would you be just as close?

Yes, Dick was always with him when he arrived at Wayne Manor but normally he was in Bludheaven and he couldn't deny that there were times when he felt alone until he met his friends from the Young Justice League...

If he felt alone then you must have felt more alone... Only for 15 years...

He would have shared his loneliness with you and maybe today he would be in Duke's place and instead of seeing him with that cold look, you would look at him with love and affection... Like an older sibling looks at his younger brother. And yes, he knows he has more brothers but they didn't look at him in a tender way, but as an equal, as someone else, but he wants to feel that soft love that he sees in Conner and Jon and that he knew now you could give him.

"That's right. They didn't seem too happy that Bruce started paying for their tuition" Dick spoke

"To be fair, I would have reacted the same way" Jason said now who was eating what sounded like some chips

"Jason, you react like that to anyone" Tim said as he started walking

"I don't think you should have gone" Duke said who sounded nervous

"It was good to try" Tim said

"But now they seem more distant than before thanks to father and Drake" Damian said an angry

"Come back Tim and we'll talk more here" Bruce ordered

"Yes sir”

"Alfred, I think this is going to get out of hand" Duke said, as he walked around the kitchen

"I know (Name), they are very stubborn" he said panicked

"And I know them too, Master Duke" Alfred said while washing dishes "I know that what they have always wanted is the attention of the family and now they have it"

"And what happens if they find out that we are part of this? They will end up hating us! I-I couldn't stand it" said the young man scared

"Maybe I should send them a message to tell them that we didn't know about this?" he suggested hastily

"Message?" someone asked from the kitchen door Both Alfred and Duke turned to see who it was and opened their eyes wide when they saw Cass.

"Miss Cassandra" Alfred greeted but she only looked at Duke with an intense gaze

"Message?" the girl repeated again

"Y-yes..." said Duke in a small voice

"You have… (Name)'s number?" asked Cass

"Y-yes..." nodded Duke

"Miss Cassandra" the butler spoke again as he stood in front of Duke

"Yes, both Master Duke and I have (Name)'s new number”

"So both you and Duke have kept it from us that you have my child's number?" Bruce asked in a stern voice.

Once Cass found out about this, she quickly called a meeting when Tim returned. They were all in the Batcave with Bruce standing in the middle in front of Alfred and Duke, the buttler being calmer and the boy who was much more nervous.

"That is right, Master Bruce," Alfred nodded.

"Why did you hide this from us, Alfred?" Bruce asked, a little hurt, making Alfred's heart sink.

"First of all, it is worth clarifying that it was my idea, not Master Duke's, so do not get mad at him," Alfred began. "But I knew that if we told them we had their cell phone number, all of you would try to call them nonstop. I do not want to sound rude, but we know (Name) better than anyone, and they are just as cunning as all of you. If you start forcing this thin thread you still have with them, you will only make them break up, and then we would be in serious trouble. You neglected them for years; this new attention from all of you is uncomfortable and overwhelming. You can not force this if you want them to come home again."

Everyone fell silent at Alfred's words, for he was right. They can't expect you to accept them back so quickly, but eventually you would...

No?

"Fine, Alfred, Duke," Bruce nodded. "Tell us what we should do."

Alfred's heart began to beat faster, though no one could notice. Finally, his plan was coming together now that the whole family was on the same page. Some more than others, but soon everyone would see you as he did.

Hello!

How are you all doing? FINALLY I FINISHED THIS CHAPTER! I hope you liked this chapter and If you did any kind of interaction would be appreciated as I would like to ready your opinions or ideas for this story! Anyway, I also wanted to ask you, would you like to see another character interact with (Names) from the DC universe and outside the batfamily? I would love to know your opinions!

Anyway, I hoped you like this chapter and I also hope to ready your opinions!

See you in the next one and I love you all!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun @profounddestinyrebel @holyfishbailiffpeanut @toast-on-dandelioms @dhanyasri @kiarst @phoenixgurl030 @wpdarlingpan @glitterisname @sackofsadstuff @riddle-me-im-sirius @sirenetheblogger @bat1212 @bluelock4life @revysplacexxx @skz-goose @mistfire1999 @vanessa-boo @tatsuri-zomushiki @kore-of-the-underworld @milliu @lee-bits @ch1@ch1cky-093 @leiiasurez @bluemidnightmelodies @lilyalone @plsfckmedxddy @lovebug-apple @jisnothere @akanegotlost @stormz369 @sugarpiehoe @mddbsf @shhhhhhhhhhtellnobody @i-adorehannah @darktrashpoetry @fantasyhopperhea @d3sperate-enuf @expctron @horror-lover-69 @caffeinatedhearts12 @niggrroo @v3llev3t3 @cynniee @imhere2dosomething @verypersonadazzel @asillysimp @type-ink @wisefuncherryblossom @haruskrd @angelicbear @zoeyburton @twismare @bad4amficideas @casspen-starlight @gwyneveire @ferchu0406 @erinhan08 @yoopsity @aki-anikk @24-7aroundtheclockanxious @ferntv @hunter-hears-all @gwyneveire @yuyuzi-ling @shirp-collector-of-fixations @welpthisisboring @jellyedkazoo @mellowcloudland @rainwaterxx @lunaetiicsaystuff @ryuushou @butratherbutrather @tiredhealer5 @nemesis-writer @jjsmeowthie @a4g3lstarfire @chibikochannumberone @hayley1234 @thestarry-nightfox @kittzu @sillyheartmoonnyx @trashlanterfish360 @c4xcocoa @tenderboar @levi-09 @cluelessteam @burningkittenprince @lexi2005 @uu-uuu @arwenyukiamoto @senhoritaapple @sujusfs14499 @oliviaewl @unearthlykara @lupher @bunniotomia

[enwoso]

I feel like lovie can con Leah into anything so one day lovie ask for a dog and she goes up to Leah saying “mama you know how you said you would get me whatever I wanted well I want a puppy can you do it please mama” and Leah can’t say no to her so she comes home with a puppy one day 

WEAK SPOT | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist

leah always prided herself on being strong-willed. she could command a defence, lead a team and hold her ground during tough and important matches.

but when it came to you? yeah, she was absolutely useless.

alessia had warned her, of course. "she's four, le. she knows exactly how to get what she wants from you. you have to learn to say no."

leah had just waved her off at the time, convinced she had things under control and that she knew exactly how to say no, like come on it's wasn't that hard after all it was only two letters long.

that was, until one lazy saturday afternoon, a rare break in the footballing calendar where there wasn't any matches but as ever while you and leah enjoyed a relaxing day, alessia was busy running errands she hadn't had time to do through the week.

you climbed into leah's lap, your esme the elephant under you arm as leah was busy reading on her phone. you beginning to play with the hem of her hoodie.

"mama," you started sweetly, looking up at leah with those big impossibly big blue eyes — that leah couldn't seem to say no to.

leah placed her phone down on her chest as she glanced down at you, already sensing danger, "yes, angel?"

"you know how you always say you want me to be happy?"

leah hesitated, unsure at where this was going to go, "uh.. yeah?"

you beamed, inching closer, "well, esme the elephant thinks a puppy would make me so happy." you said resting esme on leah's chest, as leah raised her eyebrows a smirk appearing on her lips.

"esme thinks this does she?"

"well, esme and me”

"can you do it, please. mama?" you pleaded, as you blinked up at her in a way that should have been illegal.

leah was done for.

—

two days later, leah was walking through the front door with a squirming golden retriever puppy in her arms. alessia who had been peacefully making tea in the kitchen, a smile appearing on her face as she heard the front door open and close behind her knowing exactly who it'd be.

expect that big smile quickly disappeared as she turned around and immediately freezing as her face dropped. alessia's eyes darting from leah to the wiggling ball of fluff in her arms, her mouth falling open.

"leah cathrine williamson." she groaned out loud setting her mug down with excruciating precision, "that better be a friends dog-"

leah's face gave it all away in a moment as she winced at her girlfriend's question, "so, okay, before you get mad—"

"before i get mad?" alessia let out a breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "you're telling me you just— just walked into a shelter and adopted a dog on your way home from the shops?"

"well, technically i drove there.." leah trailed off. alessia's face less than impressed.

"leah."

leah sighed, shifting the puppy that was in her arms slightly, "listen, less. i tired to say no, i did i promise i really tried." leah began as she stuttered out her words, alessia following along her eyebrows perking ever other word.

"but she looked at me with those eyes and asked and well i admit it, i can't say no to her!" leah lifted the puppy slightly, "and i mean, look at him! that little face. i couldn't say no to that face either-"

alessia slightly amused that leah had finally admitted that she couldn't say no, but her unimpressed demeanour returning as she crossed her arms, "i can say no."

just then the puppy let out a tiny yawn, his ears flopping adorably as he nuzzled further into leah's hoodie, alessia's gaze faltered slightly, her lips twitching. 

leah smirked, "mhm, that's what i thought!"

before alessia could argue her case, your little voice squealed from down the hall, probably realising leah was finally home.

"mama, mama, you got him!"

you came running into the room, your socks slipping slightly on the wooden floor as you skidded to a stop in front of leah. your eyes wide with excitement as you reached up to gently cup the puppy's face.

"you got me the puppy!" you gasped, bouncing on your toes before throwing your little arms around leah's leg, "thank you, thank you, thank you!"

leah grinned, ruffling your hair slightly, "of course, angel."

alessia however, let out a dry laugh folding her arms, "she had and she's also bought herself some time to get some willpower lessons."

leah scoffed, feigning offence. "that's rude."

alessia raised an eyebrow, "is it cause at this rate, lovie could ask for a pony next week, and you'd be out the door before i even noticed."

leah opened her mouth to protest but you were already tugging on her hoodie again.

"mama, can we get a pony too?"

leah froze, opening her mouth to try and say the words but nothing was coming out from her lips.

alessia smirked, knowing she was right, "see?"

leah sighed, looking down at the puppy who licked her chin, "ok, okay, but admit it - he's adorable."

alessia sighed to, finally relenting. she crouched down scratching behind the puppy's ears, "yeah, yeah he's cute."

you clapped your hands excitedly, bouncing on your toes. "can we name him waffles?"

leah and alessia exchanged a look. leah smiled. "waffles it is!"

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 1] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, a little bit of angst, friends to lovers (maybe?), one pregnant woman, some alcohol, two broken hearts, one lie

A/N: I'm not sure if I should have posted this. But I couldn't help myself because this story has been in my head for two days and if I don't get it out I'm going to go crazy. Let me know what you think and if I should continue. Thanks to the people who put up with my doubtful ranting. please be gentle with me.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist]

"I told you that you should put up a signpost or sprinkle crumbs on the floor."

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone, and you smiled to yourself. You drove Harry Castillo to the brink of madness. “You’ve been to my apartment so many times, so why haven’t you learned the layout yet? You know where my office is.”

"I don't know." you replied, pouting your lip. "Maybe because it's a real maze?"

"Where are you?"

“I’m standing in front of some weird sculpture.” You looked at this piece of art, which was probably worth a few thousand dollars, for five minutes, Harry probably thought you were wandering around his penthouse.

Another sigh. He was already close to breaking down, but he tried to sound calm. His low, warm voice resonated in your receiver again. "How weird is this sculpture?"

"Weird enough."

You could barely contain your laughter when you heard a muffled "Jesus Christ." You adjusted the folders you were holding in your arms, looking around the spacious hallway. The conclusion appeared in your head that Harry would soon start looking for you himself, so you spoke up.

"I see the kitchen on the right."

"Great. So go left." He rubbed his eyes with his hand and leaned back in the chair. He could hear your footsteps in the receiver. "You should pass three rooms on the left, then turn right and..."

"Oh!"

A strange shiver ran down his spine. "What's that 'oh' supposed to mean?"

You cleared your throat. "Harry, this room is weird. I didn't expect that from you..."

"W-What? What are you talking about..."

"These whips, the leather... Jesus. And this?" There was silence for a moment. Harry thought it would take forever. "How is that supposed to fit in there? It won't fit. Or maybe..."

“What the hell?!” he shot up in his chair. “Where are you?” but out of the corner of his eye he noticed the door to his office open.

His assistant stood there, clutching a folder of documents to her chest and the most disarming smile on her face. He rolled his eyes, unsure whether he should fire her or kill her.

"Gotcha!" You chuckled and entered the office with a determined step "I brought what you asked for."

Harry Castillo, CEO of a large multi-million dollar company, watched as his assistant placed a folder of documents and Chinese takeout in front of him. It was supposed to be another Friday night, where you try to plan the coming week instead of trying your luck at bars or watching TV on the couch.

You had worked for him for almost a year, and your relationship had quickly changed from formal to friendly. Although you still called him Mr. Castillo at work, you were both more casual outside of that setting.

The job was very fulfilling, but your personal life was a complete mess. Apart from a few friends at work, there wasn't much going on there. But the pay was decent, and your boss was a really nice guy, so...

"Mark said he'd send the report tonight. That email you were waiting for also arrived." you said, sitting down on the comfortable chair in front of his desk and quickly scrolling through your phone "Mrs. Smith asked to contact you after the weekend. She has a few questions about the contract."

It wasn't until you tore your gaze away from the screen that you noticed Harry watching you intently from behind the desk, his dark eyes fixed on you. The white T-shirt hugged his broad, strong shoulders nicely, and a smile played on his lips.

"Is something wrong?" you asked uncertainly.

"I need you." Harry replied. Now a strange shiver ran down your spine and you gripped your phone tighter.

"What do you mean?"

He tilted his head without taking his gaze off you. "I need a woman."

He watched with delight as your eyes widened and your mouth parted in silent surprise. It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing at the sight.

"A w-women?" you finally repeated in a choked voice "In what sense? To what? No! Don't tell me!"

You squeezed your eyes shut, raising your hands as if you wanted to stop him, although Harry was still sitting at his desk and still just staring at you.

Finally he decided to take pity on you. “A good friend of mine is getting married on Saturday. I want you to go with me.”

You opened one eye, then the other, and burst out laughing. “No, no, no!” you shook your head. “Good joke. I go with you to client meetings, not to your friends’ weddings. You have many friends, beautiful women, why don’t you invite any of them?”

Harry leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was a handsome man, and you were sure there were plenty of women who would love to go to a party like this with him.

"Maybe I've already asked them and you're the only one left, darling?"

“Ouch, that hurt.” you mumbled, squinting. “I’ll have to say no too. I don’t have…”

"I'll buy you a dress tomorrow, no problem. The wedding is in the afternoon, so we'll make it." He smiled at you as if the decision had already been made and you had no other choice.

“Harry…” You sighed. “That’s not the point. You know, I… I don’t think I’m cut out for this.” He frowned, so you tried to explain. “These people, your friends, aren’t my world. They’re always so beautiful and dazzling, and I…”

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Do you think I'm some kind of higher class or something? A better species of human?”

"Can I be honest? On the Titanic you would definitely have first class. I would have been below deck."

“Jesus!” he laughed and shook his head. “I assure you, honey, you will be the most interesting person at this wedding. I know what I mean. Besides, you will be with me. If this ship sinks, you can take the door, I won’t argue with you about it.”

You shook your head, smiling slightly and not believing that you had given in to him.

The place looked like it was cut out of a wedding magazine. Your eyes moved from the crystal chandelier, to the tables covered with snow-white tablecloths, to the vases with beautiful bouquets of flowers. Soft music flowed from the corner of the room where a band made up of several professional musicians stood.

You almost jumped when someone placed a hand on your back. "Harry, don't do that." You said, feeling your heart speed up.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" he asked, smiling friendly. He looked stunning in a well-tailored suit and styled hair. When you nodded, he led you to your table.

He could see that you were stressed. Although you looked stunning in your dress, which beautifully emphasized your curves, and many eyes were looking after you, you kept smiling nervously and were rather silent. It wasn't like you so Harry did everything to cheer you up, and he was great at it. 

He didn't leave you alone with people you didn't know for long, his arm always served as your support and he made you laugh whenever he had the chance. That evening would have passed pleasantly if not for the fact that when you were coming back from the bathroom you heard a familiar voice that froze you. Someone said your name and when you turned around you saw him.

"Daniel! What a surprise! What are you doing here?" you smiled even though you had the impression that someone had just squeezed your insides with a vice.

A tall and slim brunette approached you smiling, the suit he was wearing looked really impressive. "It's my friend's wedding. And what are you doing here? Are you a friend?"

"I'm accompanying someone." you replied.

Daniel nodded in appreciation. "I came with my wife. Do you remember Beth?"

Oh, you remembered Beth. Very well to be honest. It was for her that he left you three years ago. You followed your gaze to the place he indicated and saw a beautiful blonde with a nicely rounded belly. Something sharp must have pierced your heart, but you bravely smiled.

"Still looking for a job?" Daniel leaned slightly towards you. "A friend of mine is looking for a secretary. He runs a construction company, I can give you his number."

"Thank you, but I'm not looking for a job right now. I'm happy with what I have."

Daniel shrugged. "You've never needed much, have you?"

The words got stuck in your throat. For a few moments you didn't know what to answer, and at the same time you were afraid that whatever left your lips would be immediately turned against you. Daniel was a master at this.

Suddenly, someone said your name again and in the back of the room you noticed Harry, who was walking away from a group of elegant-looking men and heading towards you.

"It's Harry Castillo." Daniel mumbled, straightening up. "I didn't know he was here."

"Yeah, it's his good friend's wedding. We came together and..."

"You're with Harry Castillo?"

It was too easy. You knew perfectly well that you shouldn't do it, but your lips moved before your brain had time to react properly. "Yes, we're here together."

It wasn't a lie. Not completely.

"I was worried about you." Harry said, walking over to you and smiling politely at Daniel. He quickly extended his hand in greeting.

"Daniel Stevens." He introduced himself. "I'm a lawyer."

"Nice to meet you." Harry looked at you expectantly.

"Daniel and I, we've known each other for a while. And this is his wife, Beth."

A pretty blonde walked up to you and Daniel put his arm around her, straightening up proudly. A woman like her was definitely the crowning achievement of his career. You weren't cut out for this. 

Even though you kept a smile on your lips, the whole conversation felt like a speeding bus was heading towards you. Harry was as polite as ever and didn't even bat an eyelid when Daniel mentioned "She said that you are together. It must be something new, because nothing has spread around town yet."

"We want to keep it private. You understand, Daniel." Harry replied smoothly and without hesitation, placing his hand on the small of your back and looking at you fondly. "A woman like that is a treasure, I want to enjoy her before we show ourselves to the world."

Daniel nodded as if he understood what Harry meant, and Beth let out a fond sigh. After a few moments, you said goodbye and Harry led you towards the door.

“Do you want to tell me more?” he asked quietly, more amused than angry.

You shook your head. "Just throw me under the car." you muttered "Damn! I knew I shouldn't have come here."

Harry immediately sensed that something was wrong. You seemed more tense and withdrawn during the whole conversation. "Who was that?" he asked.

You took a deep breath. "My ex-boyfriend. And Beth... That's the woman he left me for. And as you can see, she's pregnant now. Wonderful, right?" you tried to laugh, but it came out so fake that you quickly fell silent.

"So that's why you told him that you and I... That we're together?"

You stopped. You looked so pathetic that his heart almost broke.

"I didn't lie to him. Not really." you finally said. "I told him that we were here together. Daniel took it differently."

“So maybe I should explain it to him?” Harry made a move as if to go back to the party and find Daniel, but you quickly grabbed his arm.

"No, please!" you groaned. "Don't make me feel even worse. This whole situation is already embarrassing enough. Daniel will forget about it by tomorrow."

"If you say so." Harry sighed and put his arm around you. "Come on, I'll take you home. It's been a long day."

You were quiet as you climbed into the backseat of his car, your gaze barely leaving the window as the driver drove you through the dark city. Harry didn't say a word either, respecting your silence. But this wasn't how he expected the evening to end.

It wasn’t until you were standing in front of your apartment that he heard your quiet voice. “Thank you, Harry. And I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

He smiled, and at the same time, a small smile appeared on your lips. He reached for your hand and squeezed it lightly. “You always have me by your side. And you can always count on me.”

"I know. Thank you."

He watched you for a moment longer, then you said goodbye to him and the driver and got out, leaving him alone.

Harry Castillo had almost everything a man his age could ever want. A thriving company that was making millions, a penthouse in the heart of New York City, and an expensive car. But the expensive suits he wore and the clothes made of the best materials couldn't hide what he really lacked. Closeness.

Although he was surrounded by many people, when the door to his 12 million apartment closed behind him, he felt really lonely. Harry was slowly approaching fifty and was starting to wonder if it wasn't a bit too late for him. Maybe he had missed a moment in his life?

Yes, he had met many beautiful women, had gone on dates, but it was never long-term, and that was exactly what he was looking for. He wanted someone who could be just his, who would love him and ask how his day was. Someone he could watch stupid movies with on the couch, go on vacation, or just be bored. Was he asking for too much?

"Do we really have to do this today? Everyone has gone home." The door to his office slammed shut, and then he heard a dull thud as you plopped down on the couch. Harry smiled to himself and turned away from the huge window that overlooked the city at night.

"We'll get this over with in a minute and then I'll drop you home. Is that okay with you?" he asked, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "I'm not sure. I could have snuck out with the others."

"My personal assistant tells me things like that?" he frowned, but at the same time smiled and sat down next to you. "It's just some folders to look through. It'll take us an hour at most. Would you like a drink?"

You shook your head and lifted the mug of tea you had brought with you. You grabbed the first folder and flipped through it. "You have a sponsors' party this week. I've cleared the evening and morning for you."

"Thank you."

For a moment, you were both focused on your work. You were putting the next reviewed documents on the empty chair, and the room was filled with your quiet typing on the laptop keyboard. Harry took a sip of whiskey and glanced in your direction.

You were so focused that you completely ignored him. A small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows as your eyes ran over the next lines of text.

“Would you like to go to this party with me?” he asked, breaking the silence, and when you looked at him, he added, “We’ve been having quite a bit of fun together lately.”

“Do you really think so?” you were surprised, remembering Daniel and the situation that had taken place at the wedding. “Can’t you bring one of your friends with you? You were dating Jean recently, right? What about her?”

Harry shook his head and smacked his lips. “It’s over. I don’t know if it’s even started, though.” He shrugged, and you felt sorry for him. Harry was a really great guy, even though he was your boss. Handsome, tall, well-mannered, he always made the people around him feel seen.

“Can I be honest?” you asked, putting your work aside for a moment, and Harry’s brown eyes landed on you expectantly. “I feel like you’ve jumped headfirst into a pool without even knowing how much water there is. I mean, when you meet someone and you just go for it. Expensive restaurants, gifts, flowers, weekends together… You fulfill all their dreams and whims, and yet you don’t want anything in return. I wonder where you are in all of this.”

Harry analyzed your words for a moment, until he finally spoke. "So you think I should..."

"You should really get to know someone first. And then they should get to know you too. Because you have a lot to offer, and I don't mean money or anything like that. But the real you..."

Silence fell after your words. You stared at Harry's profile, his prominent nose, the fine lines around his eyes, you noticed a few grey hairs at his temple. He was really handsome and you were surprised that you had to explain such things to him.

Finally, he moved his gaze to your face again. "How is it possible that you are still single?"

You smiled sadly. "I am a lot to handle."

"Not true. Who told you that?"

But you didn’t answer that question. Harry could tell you were sad, though you tried to hide it by looking back at your computer screen. “I think we should get back to work.” You finally said. “We don’t have much left.”

For a moment his attentive gaze rested on you, analyzing your words.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[historitor-bookshelf]

Turns out, not that much of a story - dad wasn't directly involved but it was in basically the neighboring neighborhood back when he was a kid in the Seventies.

And yeah, basic story of discovery was: Man opens old chimney shaft in house he bought/inheritated, is greeted by bomb lodged in debris. Cue the police and bomb disposal squad.

Important to note is: air bombs from WW2 might weigh like 250-500kg, but they are actually not really big. (There are also a lot of smaller ones which also cause the most accidents because apparently huge bombs still make people call the cops and leave it alone).

First off, a lot of pics show members of the bomb disposal posing with the bombs like with a trophy fish. Secondly, that was a 500kg bomb. Evacuation radius for that thing was 500 meters.

It (naturally) isn't exactly clear how the bomb ended up where it was, but the theory proposed by both actual knowledge and wild Stammtisch theorizing boiled down to: American air raid, bomb hit the defunct/not in use chimney. Part of the wall collapsed, burying it. Owners of the house either thought the bomb did explode or the partial collapse of the wall was caused by another bomb that went off in the area. After the war some of the debris got removed but chimney wasn't cleared out for whatever reason - either it was too costly because they would have had to rip out the entire wall, or they wrote the chimney up as a loss, repaired and bricked over it and built up another one in another part of the house. Wouldn't be the first or only time in history when a wall would be filled up with debris after all and it's already there. It might have shifted a bit due to other construction in the area so it was a bit closer to the surface, so to speak. But that's about it, as anticlimatic as it sounds.

When I was evacuated once for a WW2 bomb find, it took not even 72 hours from finding that damn thing (by literally digging it up) to defusing it, and most of it was to get it organized and people out of the way.

I'm not saying this lightly because if shit would have hit the fan, it would have hit it hard. The bombs are almost eighty years overdue to go off by now and they are not getting any more stable.

Who the FUCK hides all their old chemicals behind a fake wall in their house?

The previous owner of this house, apparently. We’ve been here ten years this year and I still find things. We’re doing a run to the chemical disposal site tomorrow.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Handle With Care 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Summary: your work blurs the lines between professional and personal.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"Sam's not gonna make it," Bucky huffs as you stand at the sink. He puts his phone face down. "He's an important guy now." He turns and leans on the counter as you rinse the plate in your hands. "I told you, I can clean up after myself."

"And I told you, it's not too much," you put it in the rack. "My mother tried to raise a lady, despite how I turned out."

He tilts his head as he eyes you, "there's a dishwasher."

"Aren't you the cranky old man who tells the youngins they don't know what hard work is?" You scoff.

His lips thin, "you heard that?"

You shrug, "you're a good trainer, Barnes."

"It's a short leash," he growls.

"Is that what you think?"

He sighs and crosses his arms. "You're not like me. I know what people see when they look at me."

"Is that barbecue sauce on your chin?" You smile. He frowns and quickly rubs his chin with his knuckle. You chuckle. "Messing with you."

He huffs.

"What do you know about me, Barnes? You read my file."

"I don't know," he scratches his neck. "You're a demolitions expert."

"Oh, and do you know how I got to know explosions so well?"

"File said you worked with the PD--"

You scoff. "You really didn't dig into the archives? The real ones?"

He shakes his head.

"I didn't work with the PD. I got arrested for setting up IEDs around a farmhouse. Several."

"Farmhouses?" His eyes flash. "Why--"

"Long story short, you meet a lot of backwards people out in the country," you put the second plate in the tray and scrub a knife. "Couple years in, they showed up. Offered me a deal. I saved an embassy. Got my freedom. With conditions."

"Hm."

"Should they really trust me? You think I won't go back and try again? After they've taught me how to do it ten times better?" You laugh. His cheeks twitch. You shake your head. "Barnes, really."

"Well..." he drops his arms. "I don't know, do I?"

You laugh. He lets himself smile.

"Sorry about Sam. I'll let him know he's a real shit for bailing," you pull the stopper in the sink. He hands you a towel. You dry off and give it back. "If you can tolerate me a little longer, we could watch something. From this century."

"You didn't like Showtime?"

"Oh, it was fun, but I need more than moony eyes and tapping toes," you retort. "And I don't mind the snuggles." His brows furrow and you turn to look around, "where is that kitty?"

He's silent as you make clicky noises in an effort to entice the cat from her hiding spot.

"Didn't take you for an animal person."

"Might say the same of you," you toss back. "I had a pet snake. Wasn't much of a cuddler."

"Huh," he utters.

"Huh, what?" You turn and face him from the doorway.

"Nothing. Just the definition of a lady's changed a lot since my day."

"I'm sure a lot's changed. Can't even imagine," you say. "I did three years and came out, totally lost. You did... a lot longer."

"Yeah, well, it was easier... before."

You know who he's referring too. You can't blame him for being bitter. It must sting more now that Sam chose not to come hang. You almost want to call him up and bitch but you doubt he'd answer.

"Alright, my choice," you declare as you enter the front room. "You need a dose of pure schlock."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me," he grumbles.

"If I did, you'd know it," you scoop up your phone and ignore him. "I'm thinking the trashiest action crap we can find."

"You really don't have to--"

"Barnes, I'm here, and to be honest, I don't really feel like dealing with rush hour," you sneer. "So be a good host and get me a beer."

He stares back at you and blinks.

"Oh, wait, wait, I'll ask like a lady." You bat your lashes and force a smile. You add a few octaves. "Oh, please won't you get me a drink?"

He makes a face, "don't ever do that again."

You snort. You look around for his television remote. You click on the screen and flop onto the couch.

His suggested is a bit predictable; war docs, Lord of the Rings, The Sopranos? Alright. No wonder he's so goddamn serious.

He comes back with two bottles. He offers you one. He turns and stand next to the couch as he presses the glass neck to his lip but doesn't drink.

You continue your search for something less dire. Arnie is always a good time, right?

"Barnes," you select a classic; Predator. "You wanna sit? The whole lurking in my peripheral thing makes me itchy."

He flinches, "uh, sure."

He steps around the couch and sits right against the armrest. You look down at yourself. There's the stain on the borrowed shirt but otherwise you're presentable. You lift your arm and sniff.

"I smell or something?" You ask and put the remote down.

"Huh?" He glance at you.

"You think I'm contagious, or something?" You tease.

His forehead wrinkles and he shows his teeth.

"You don't have to tuck yourself into the corner like a misbehaved child," you say.

"It's not... no, just making sure you have space."

"Relax, I don't got any explosives on me," you sit back and face the screen.

A white blur jumps up beside you and you wince. Bucky does too. Alpine walks in a circle, seeking pets from her owner before spinning back. She comes to nestle against your leg, putting her head on your thigh. You stroke her gently.

"I can see why you don't like to go out, Barnes," you snort.

"She's alright." He eases just a bit. "She'll be making all sorts of racket at midnight."

"Good kitty," you praise and reach for your beer. "You give him hell, pretty kitty."

He sighs and turns his bottle in his hands. Too bad that stuff can loosen him up.

[twstwizard]

Common Interests

Type: Scenerio, fluff, SFW, Romantic

Characters: Jade Leech; GN!Reader

AN: It came to me in a dream... Might be OOC

"Oi! Jadeee... Where are ya goin'? I ain't cleaning the floors myself." - Floyd groaned mop in hand, his lips forming a slight pout, the twin obviously unhappy with the prospect of cleaning up by himself, especially so late in the evening. "Floyd, I told you before hand, that I have important business to attend to." - Jade replied with his signature smile as he placed all his cleaning utensils back in the closet, dusting his gloved hands off.

"Eh? Going on your play dates with Shrimpy again?" - Floyd whined, his mood slowly shifting to a less pleasant one. It was no secret that after some time since the 'contract' fiasco Jade and the Prefect started spending more time together, yet no one could quite pin point what exactly the two were doing, not even his twin brother. - "Maybe I also out to visit Shrimpy... You're boring anyway." - the other Leech hummed, abandoning his mop and started walking out of the Mostro Lounge. "Now now, Floyd, if you abandon the task now, Azul will be displeased." - Jade hummed in turn, slightly rolling his eyes as his brother had his back to him. - "And besides, you do owe me a favor, remember?"

The other moray eel groaned, stopping halfway through the doors. Logically Floyd knew that he can just screw it all and walk away, but he absolutely hated being in dept to Jade of all people. With a loud groan he shut the doors he was about to exit and stomped his way back towards the forsaken mop and bucket, picking the first one up and grumbling under his breath begun to aggressively attack the floor, cleaning. Jade simply smiled at the display as per usual and swiftly made his exit, knowing that next time he'll have to find a different way to slip away into Ramshackle without neglecting his duties.

After successfully manipulating all his surroundings into finishing up his tasks for him and avoiding all of those preying questions Jade happily made it to the Hall of Mirrors and afterwards onto the main campus. The walk to Ramshackle wasn't eventful, the same pavement, the same bushes, all greeting him in their own way. And then finally he was at your from door, knocking a soft little tune that the two of you jokingly begun using with one another.

Upon opening the door you greet the young man warmly, expressing happiness upon him being able to make it, while letting him in. "The pleasure is all mine, Prefect. I could never skip our bonding time after all." - Jade smiled in turn taking his shoes off and hanging his coat and hat. You simply smile, sharing the sentiment, knowing the Leech twin by this point fairly well, understanding that any more honeyed words would simply lead to an awkward pause with him subconsciously trying to wrap you up into some kimd of capitalist scheme. He really doesn't mean to, or so he says, whenever that happens, but being friends with Azul does leave an imprint on people.

The familiar atmosphere settles between you two, no real words exchange aside from simple necessities and clarifying if the other is comfortable. When the two of you settle on an old couch and Grim is snoozing safely on your bed, you turn on the tv, which was successful blackmailed off of Crowley's persona by Azul, as a small compensation for emotional damage. It seems you were just in time for today's episode.

"Her arms were cut off, Her legs were cut off-" -The narrator started to explain another gruesome end of someone's life int the true crime series, while you begun to eat the popcorn Jade prepared for today's hang out. "My... The murderer sure had time on their hands, Fu-fu-fu.. "- the said eel merman remarked, sitting by your side. You shared the sentiment with Jade, offering him some popcorn too, asking if he had any theories as to who did it already. You leaned your head on his shoulder in a familiar motion, relaxing after a long day, his presence providing strange comfort, as the man leaned his head against your own in turn, telling you his theories on this episode.

It was nice to share your interests, especially if it was with someone who you really cared about and knew you wouldn't be judged.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: sam monroe x vinnie

FLUFF ❦

SAM MONROE wasn't really a guy you'd see at the playgrounds. Well, maybe when he was young, without all those problems and addictions he was dealing with, you could catch a glimpse of him running around while his father tried to catch him. But now? He didn’t even like playgrounds.

It was easy; they were loud. Chaotic. Full of screaming, crazy kids, sticky hands, and parents who side-eyed him like he was definitely some teenage delinquent that had stolen a baby for the day.

Well, maybe that last part was just in his head.

But as a seventeen year old teenage dad, he was expected to entertain his child. Let him explore the areas; new textures, smells, tastes. And ever since Sam was wrapped around Vinnie's chubby bitty finger, he'd do anything to make sure Vinnie could have it all. Even if it meant dealing with all the shit that playground had

Trudging across wood chips, he held Vinnie’s tiny, chubby hand in his, letting those small fingers wrap around the inside of his palm. Occasionally he'd feel the soft, rather gentle squeeze of those baby fingers clutching at his own before Vinnie's lips would part in breathless little gasp everytime something new caught his attention.

Since his wobbly legs weren’t fast enough, he resorted to the only method he came up with: pointing dramatically and babbling complete nonsense Sam didn't understand like he was having the most important conversation of his very short life.

Sam watched, absolutely amused, as his son's tiny finger jabbed towards the jungle gym. Then the bluish slide. Then at the monkey bars, eyebrows furrowed like he was seriously considering them before stopping. Contemplating if it was really what he wanted. Just a single butterfly fluttering its wings was enough to corrupt his entire attention, causing Sam to gently coax Vinnie into not trying to eat the fly. No. At least not this time. Sam has no energy for dealing with his too-curious-of-world toddler

But then came the swings which made him actually gasp, as if they were some divine revelation vinnie was getting to know only now.

His whole body vibrated with excitement, pointing so hard it looked like he might fall over.

Sam huffed a laugh. “You sure?” to which vinnie’s babbles only turned into full-on, frantic syllables.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Relax, man, keep your diaper on.” without much effort, he scooped Vinnie up. He really tried to ignore the immediate wiggles of excitement his little boy was showing off. The way those short, chubby legs kicked like he was already swinging, occasionally kicking sam's lower body

“Dude, you haven’t even gotten there yet,” Sam muttered, but Vinnie was already laughing—wide, open-mouthed, ridiculously happy, head tipping back as Sam carefully, and finally, plopped him into the bucket swing.

Pudgy hands gripped the front of the seat. This innocent gaze moved up to look at Sam, as if waiting for him to do something. Because it surely doesn't end by just sitting in this weird bucket, right? Yet, Sam did nothing, of course. Just keeping this low-key small smirk in the corner of his mouth, causing Vinnie to think, to look around and figure it out. So when he saw the older kid swinging himself by just simply moving his legs back and forth, his baby brain really thought he had it all.

Except, he didn’t.

His little feet kicked. Body shifted. Hands gripped the sides—struggled—but the swing barely budged.

Sam snorted. “Yeah, dude, I dunno if you noticed, but your legs are like, two inches long.”

Vinnie whined, brows furrowing.

And, okay. The face he made, all determined yet so disappointed that it was not working, made Sam cave immediately. With a quiet sigh, he stepped closer, gripping the edge of the swing with careful hands before pushing—gently—but just enough for Vinnie to feel it.

Vinnie squealed, gripping the swing tighter, tiny legs kicking again—but this time in delight, not frustration.

Sam’s lips twitched.

Not a smile. Definitely not a smile.

He pushed again, watching as Vinnie’s laughter burst into the air—pure, open-mouthed, wildly happy, completely cutesy and so much like his ray of sunshine toddler.

And, damn. It was dumb. So, so dumb to admit it...but Sam could’ve watched this forever.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden @cherriies-snake @skywalkerssgirl

[fuckedupfate]

warnings ! making out . sexual depictions . sexual language . masturbation .

sam knew it was wrong.

he really did. wanting you. bobby's daughter, aka, completely off limits. but fuck. he wanted you. needed you.

his gaze had wandered one too many times. hid mind had travelled to the deep and dirty area one too many times. he had taken one too many cold showers. he spent restless nights tossing and turning because he couldn't get his mind off of you. too many nights spent thinking about how you'd feel against him. how you'd look beneath or on top of him. around him. how you would sound while he was above and fucking into you. how you would taste. if your perfume would linger on the sheets of the dingy motel beds.

god. get a grip.

as soon as sam and dean arrived at bobby's house, sam's eyes zeroed onto you. watching the way you were leant back against the counter in the kitchen, sipping on your coffee, wearing a fucking tank top and shorts. his gaze wandered and explored. He was such a fucking pervert...

thank god bobby didn't notice. he had been too busy flicking through the pages of a book and speaking at the boys about something about the case which was important. not that Sam was listening.

sam walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, using the excuse of 'needing water' to cover up the fact he just wanted to get close enough to you to smell the sweet smell of your perfume. and to, try to, get a closer, better, look at you.

"hey." sam says simply, grabbing a glass to pour some water into. He couldn't keep looking at you, or else he knows his brain would fuck him up. Would make him unable to speak to you like the normal person you are. But you were anything but normal to him. "is that a new tank top?" he asks, internally cringing and regretting it as soon as the words leave his lips.

way to fucking go, sam. real smooth.

you definitely find his topic of choice odd, but you don't say anything about it. you nod, letting out a quiet him in acknowledgment to his question. "uh, yeah. it is."

your simple answer, as much as it was nice that you didn't question him or say anything about his question, still didn't help his growing issue being weird in his head—and his growing issue in his pants. and it didn't help when you looked up at him. those fucking eyes. the same eyes he has spent so, so many hours thinking about. he was totally and royally fucked.

thank the lords he stopped that strangled noise from falling past his lips—he didn't want to be seen as a weirdo *and* a creep... even though he was definitely a creep. his breath did hitch, but you don't notice it.

your head tilts to the right ever so slightly, revealing the skin of your neck a bit more. putting it on show for his eyes to dance down to. fucking hell.

your brow then raises, a chuckle falling from your lips. "are you okay?" you ask, simply. but your sweet, honeyed voice, sends pulsations down to his lower abdomen and groin. and he quickly snaps his eyes away from your neck and up to your eyes. trying to make it seem like he was not at all staring and fantasising about you.

keep it together.

sam nods, letting out a strangled hum before he clears his throat slightly. "yeah—yeah. no. i'm—i'm okay." sam responds—not at all that convincing. and he knows he doesn't sound convincing, so he quickly adds. "promise. i'm alright. didn't get enough sleep." great excuse, sam. which.. well. it wasn't all that an excuse, because it is true. but he'd lie about why. he can't necessarily say that he was jerking himself off to the thought of you on top of him—could he? god, no.

"..right. uh-huh." you chuckle again, nodding slowly. very unconvinced. "sure."

"oh—fuck—" sam whimpers, eyes closing tightly as he tilts his head back, digging the back of his head further into the pillow beneath.

his hand continues to quickly move up and down his hard cock. his other hand coming up to cover his mouth before it rests back by his side, gripping the sheets of the bed. borderline pornographic sounds continue to spill from his lips, filling up the silence of the room which is only broken by the sound of him jerking off.

"please—oh my g—" he pants out.

he can hear your voice, right there in his mind. egging him on further. his mind painting the image of your mouth wrapped around his cock, head bobbing up and down, covering him in saliva, eyes peering up at him as you fit him in your mouth, gagging sounds coming from you as his tip hits the back of your throat. the wetness of your tongue and mouth, mixed with the warmth, is driving him crazy. and he's nearing his orgasm.

"fuck—just—just like that—" he groans, teeth clenching, and his hands movements quickens, driving him further, and further over the edge. building up and tightening that familiar knot he has in the pit of his stomach.

then it snaps.

a whimper mixed with a groan of your name falls from his lips—loudly. his sperm spilling over his hand and on the lower part of his stomach. he continues to ride out his orgasm, the image of you never once leaving his head.

you're now cleaning him up, licking the sperm off of his stomach. he groans at that alone. fucking—

he comes back to his senses. realising he's all alone in the motel room. and, despite it being something he's become accustomed to, it doesn't make it a little less disappointing when you're not there, and he realises that you were, again, a figment of his dirty, perverted, and sick, mind.

♱ JADE YAPS: fucking love this so much.

.ᐣ TAGLIST: @littlesoulshine , @multiversefanfics

.ᐟ JOIN THE TAGLIST!

.ᐟ SEND IN REQUESTS!

♱ ; @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

interactive bot .ᐟ go to pinned .ᐣ view my other work .ᐟ my c.ai .ᐟ

[darksturnioloqueen]

Masochistic!Reader x Family Photo

**This Fic Series will NOT be for people with triggers. This Fic Series will have very descriptive moments of Sadism.**

Sadistic (Sadism - The Act Of Being Sadistic)

Deriving (getting) pleasure from inflicting (causing) pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.

Please Read At Your Own Risk.

⚠︎Trigger Warning: agreeing not to work (be bought), talking about control, Sadistic!Matt taking control, hair grabbing, head shoving, going in dry, hair tugging, face slap, punching, paid for sex, Sadistic!Matt feeling, mention of torture, addiction, withdrawal, deceit, thoughts of purposely making someone angry, remembering Sadistic!Matt x Gun, being pinned to the bed, roughhousing, being force tickled (my biggest fear), mention of cheating, shoving, constant punching, fresh bruises, punched in the face, anxiety, questions about domestic abuse, mention of hurting you, ignoring boundaries, and making you bleed, angst, hating Matt. ⚠︎

Matt stayed the whole night. That was an entire week ago. You were kind of hoping he would stay over more since he completed two nights without any issues. He didn't. You wanted to ask him to stay again openly, but you really weren't in the mood for the battle you knew it would be. You were waiting for him to try again, knowing it was a lost cause.

"Matt?" You poked your head in the sliding door and called out. He was expecting you.

"Hi." He came around the corner and immediately pulled you into him. Matt was being a little more affectionate lately, which you loved, but you felt like it was going to come at a cost. His grip on you was never subtle. He always held you tightly. Possessive.

"What's gotten into you lately?" As much as you loved living in the bubble of last week, you needed to know what was happening.

"I have to go out of town for a few days." He let you go. You looked up to see him looking disappointed.

"Oh. Is everything okay?" You sat down on his couch as he sat in his chair.

"Yeah, just a business trip. It won't be long." His voice was shifting flat.

"Is that why you asked me over here? To tell me that?" You noticed his change in demeanor. He was slowly becoming stern.

"Yes." Was all he responded. Matt had so much more he wanted to tell you, but the words were choking him.

"Matt?" He looked in your doe eyes and smirked a little. "Talk to me." You coaxed him. Every conversation was one where you had to beg him to talk. It was exhausting, but this must be important to him since he brought you over to tell you in person.

"Do you need money?" He asked, avoiding eye contact with you. Bingo! There it was—the real reason. You have become a Sadistic Matt pro by now. You could read between the words he said and figure out the real meaning of his question or statement.

"I won't work while you're gone." You smiled softly. His jealousy made you giddy. Matt sat up straight. He was taken aback by your statement. He liked hearing you say it, but something in him wasn't sure if he should trust it.

"Pet." He breathed out.

"My Matt." You knew he would like that even if he wouldn't admit it. He did. He was always the one in control, but he liked it when you knew when to take a little back. He also liked the fact that if he didn't want you to take it, he could take it back even rougher.

"Do you need money?" He stood up, put his hands on the back of the couch, and leaned down into your face.

"I... Um... I think..." You rambled.

"Spit it out." His voice was cold. He wanted control. He wanted you.

"I could use some." You found your words. Matt smirked and leaned down in to kiss you. He had never kissed another person before. You were his first kiss, and if he had his way, you would be the only person he had ever kissed. He didn't think he would enjoy such an intimate physical touch, but your lips on his was euphoric. It wasn't pain, but it aroused him. He could feel his body getting more demanding as he gripped the back of the couch, turning his knuckles white. You left your hands in your lap because you didn't want to push him.

"Get up." He broke the kiss apart and backed up, allowing you to fill the space. You stood up and felt your knees shaky. You never truly knew what he had on his mind. Pain was always on his mind, but the act that he wanted to explore to achieve said pain was always a mystery to you. "Turn around." You did as you were told. You trusted Matt completely. He used you often, and so far, there was nothing you wouldn't do for him. Without wasting any time, he grabbed your hair and shoved your head down.

"Matt." You shrieked, surprised.

"Shut up, Pet." His voice was cold, but you knew it was because of his focus on your body. His fingers slid up your thighs and hiked up your skirt. You left your head down, afraid to lift it, hands gripping the back of the couch for balance. You felt Matt lining himself up to go inside you. He didn't want to wait for you to be aroused. He wanted it to hurt going in. As he shoved your head down again with his right hand ruffled in your hair, his left hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you backward into him. He rammed inside of you.

"Ugh." The rough sensation of being filled up so fast had you screaming.

"Fucking take it." He fisted your hair tighter, tugging the roots. His hips pulled back only slightly just to be snapped forward into you. He was relentless. The pounding he was giving you made you feel limp. As your legs grew tired and your body started to sink, Matt wasn't about to let it happen. His arm wrapped around your waist kept pulling you into him more, making you feel it deeper and deeper.

"Matt, please." You screamed out. Over the last week, you both exercised, being more vocal in bed. It was the only time Matt would really talk to you without being coerced.

"Fuck." He groaned, leaning forward into you. He felt you becoming wetter from the pleasure. He pulled out of you and spun you around.

"Wha -" He pushed you down on the couch with a slap to the face. You bit your lip, watching his towering stature mount on top of you. Without missing any time, he started riding you. His chest was flat against yours as he rocked up and down. His mouth panting in your ear. You giggled on accident as you realized what this was.

"Pet..." He groaned, upset with your giggling. You giggled more. He propped himself up on his hands and looked at you. Matt pounded into you uncontrollably, never dropping eye contact with you. You saw the words in his eyes, but you waited to see if he would say it. He bit his lip feeling blood about to spill as he pounded harder. You scrunched up your nose, feeling the pleasure he was created by sliding in and out of your walls. "I'm going to miss you." His words held pain. You felt yourself blushing; him saying it out loud made him that much cuter to you.

You giggled. "I know." Matt threw his head back, exposing his neck to you while bouncing in and out of you on the couch. "Punch me." His head shot down, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Punch me." You whispered again. Matt couldn't resist the invitation as he balled a fist and collided it with your sides. He hit you a few times with medium pressure. Just the necessary amount to provide himself with enough arousal to shoot his cum deep inside you. Your side burning from the power strikes caused your body to flush out its own orgasm.

"Fuck." You both said at the same time. Matt looked down at you with eyes that glistened. You giggled again, finding his need for you adorable.

"I'm going to miss you too." You assured him. After cleaning yourselves up, Matt paid you. It felt weird accepting money from him, but you forced yourself to do it because it would make him feel better. You said your goodbyes and took the fifteen-minute drive home. You sat on your couch and immediately got on your computer.

Matt was losing his mind. The more serious he felt about you, the more fucked up his head got. He wanted to trust you; he had to know if he could trust you. After you had accepted that purchase, something in him snapped. He never wanted to lose you; he learned that. In his mind, the last week had been torture. All while causing you pain, he had been feeling his own. Fucking you was the only time he wasn't worried about you leaving him. The webcam was a great idea in theory, but now it had become an addiction for him. If he couldn't see you in the frame, he immediately became convinced you were going to leave him. It was like having withdrawals.

He accidentally came up with this plan while he was stressing out over you. He paced his living room, watching the blank webcam, thinking about grabbing his gun one more time. Luckily for both of you, you appeared with a bowl of cereal in hand and started watching TV. Matt couldn't drop the plan, though. He decided he needed to put you to the test. He lied. He didn't have a business trip.

The next day, you thought about turning the webcam off just to mess with him. Making Matt a little angry was fun for you, but you decided against it because you remembered the look he gave you when the gun was inside you. The pain behind his eyes was unbearable for him and for you to witness. You knew Matt already had a painful past that you knew little about, so you would have to think of a way to play with him that didn't involve reopening old wounds again. Your phone started ringing beside you.

"Hey, I'm out front."

"Coming." You smiled and jumped out of bed. You had been so invested in spending time with Matt that you hadn't made much time for yourself lately. You thought this would be the perfect time to change that. "Gahh!" You hollered as you ran out the front door and jumped into the dark brunette's arms. He effortlessly caught you.

"What, no love for me?" Your eyes lit up as the replica got out of the passenger seat of the car.

"No way!" You gasped and squirmed to be set down. Once your feet were on the ground, his arms wrapped around your shoulders.

"I missed you guys so much." You gushed.

"It has been a while." They followed you inside. "Woah."

"Super pink." They were already making fun of you, just like old times.

"Hey, I'm an adult. I can decorate, however - I - want." You sassed.

"Mom wants to see you. She and Dad wanted to come, but Aunt B needed help moving a couch or something."

"I'll visit soon. I want to make more time, I've just been busy." Your mind flashed images of Matt like a mini-movie. Matt was a very demanding relationship. Unless he was out of town for his own thing, he required your obedience all the time. You didn't mind. You lived alone, and you felt like you were meant to be with Matt. There wasn't an issue on your part. However, your family has been wanting to see you for a while. You have lied your way out of almost all the visits, but since Matt was gone, you realized you didn't have to lie this time. You were free to accept.

"So what have you been up to, little sis?" They both walked around looking at your house.

"I just like work. I live here." You motioned around the room. They kept looking at things, picking up and putting down random items.

"Do you do anything for fun?" They were being extremely nosey.

"Yeah. I live without two older brothers being all up in my business." You joked. You noticed they were walking into your room, and you followed. They continued looking around at everything.

"It's nice here."

"Yeah. It's quiet." You sat on the bed.

"Where are we going for dinner?"

"Oh, we could go to the Storming Crab." You suggested.

"I hate seafood. You know this." You giggled, and without realizing it, the oldest brother tackled you onto the bed. He started wrestling with you. You were laughing and fighting back. Roughhousing with your brothers was always something they did. Since there were two of them, they loved pinning you down and annoying you.

"Aren't we too old for this?" You giggled, trying to break free.

"Come on, you'll always be our little sis." One held you down, and the other started tickling you. You hated it.

"Okay, stop! Stop!" You laughed. Your head fell to one side, and your eyes fixed on the little red light from the webcam. "Fuck! Stop! Stop!" You begged more seriously. They kept going, ignoring your pleas. "Please!" You yelled one more time. You heard a loud thud. You looked to see your brother being ripped off of you.

Matt.

"What the hell?" Your other brother grabbed you and dragged you closer to him, away from Matt.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Are you seriously cheating on me again?"

"Cheating?" The brother holding you loosened his protective grip.

"No, Matt," you started.

"Bro back the fuck up." Your older brother shoved Matt back—big mistake. Matt threw a punch at your oldest brother. You closed your eyes. You heard them fighting. It wasn't until your other brother let go of you to join that you decided to open your eyes again. He walked over and started trying to break up the fight, only to be brought into it. Matt slammed his fist over and over on your brothers. You had to stop him.

"Matt!" You yelled, joining the knot of people. As you struggled with the three boys, your shirt lifted a little, exposing some fresh bruises.

"What are those?"

"Nothing." You pulled your shirt back down. Just as Matt was about to throw a punch, you put yourself directly in his hand's path. His fist struck your cheek. Matt instantly felt his body fill with arousal. "Matt, these are my brothers." You said, holding your cheek, hoping he would hear you.

"You know this guy?" Your brother asked, his jaw clenched. Matt stood like stone. You pressed up against Matt and turned around to look at your brothers.

"This is my boyfriend, Matt." You admitted. "Matt, these are my brothers. Cole and Elliott." You introduced them. Matt looked down at you. "I wouldn't cheat on you." You whispered. His breathing was heavy. Matt was frozen. He didn't know you had brothers. And if he had known, he probably would have never wanted to meet them.

"Boyfriend?" Elliott asked.

"Yeah." You sighed. "This isn't how I wanted you to find out." You felt your eyes brimming with tears—your anxiety building.

"How about you take Cole to get some ice, and we all just take a second." Elliott was younger, but he was the more reasonable of the twins. You looked at Matt. You had to make sure he would be okay. He smiled apologetically at you. You nodded and grabbed Cole's hand, leading him to the kitchen.

"Okay, why haven't you mentioned a boyfriend?" He went right into the questions while you grabbed an ice pack.

"It's still fairly new. He is different."

"Are you okay?" He leaned against the counter.

"What? Yeah." Your voice leaped.

"I saw the bruises. Does he hurt you? Do you need help?"

"I promise, I'm all right." You smiled. Matt did hurt you, but only in the best ways. Your family obviously knew nothing of your secret sex life. "Please be nice." You begged. Cole set down the ice pack and pushed off the counter.

"Alright." He shrugged. You went back to the bedroom to find Elliott on the bed and Matt in the computer chair.

"Does he talk?" Elliott asked you, only half joking. You knew Matt wouldn't talk to someone he didn't know or care to know.

"Yes." You chuckled. You sat on Matt's lap and felt his erection from punching you underneath you. Matt put his hands on your hips and gripped them tightly. It wasn't a sexual thing this time. It was his way of showing he was uncomfortable.

"How long have you been dating?" Elliott inquired. They were concerned older brothers at this point. A controlling man who showed no remorse for accidentally hitting their younger sister was labeled her boyfriend. They did not like it one bit.

"Roughly -"

"Four months, one week, and two days," Matt said flat. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your grin. That was your Matt.

"You abuse her?" Cole interjected.

"Cole!" You yelled.

"Never," Matt answered through gritted teeth. As hypocritical as it sounded, if a man ever laid his hands on you the way he did, he would kill them. Even though Matt loved hurting you, ignored certain boundaries, and even liked watching you bleed, he did it out of love. With love.

"How about we all hang out tomorrow afternoon? Let's give things a chance to cool off a bit before we try to get to know one another." You suggested. Your eyes begged Elliott to have your back. He, of course, couldn't resist the power of his little sister and nodded.

"That sounds like a great idea."

"I'll talk to you later." You whispered to Matt and stood up. You were shocked he had made it here within minutes. After some thought, you realized it was close to fifteen minutes. He left without saying anything, which you expected.

"Is he... always that intense?" Elliott chuckled.

"Yes. Yes, he is." You bit your bottom lip. Not only did you know Matt wasn't ready to meet your family, but after this, you weren't so sure you were ready either. "You guys can crash in the living room. I'm going to bed early." You raised both your hands; you were shocked that tonight had happened the way it did.

Cole and Elliott made themselves at home in the living room. "A boyfriend. Who knew?" Elliott joked with his counterpart.

"Did you see her bruises?" Elliott's face contorted, thinking about it. He didn't like the idea of his baby sister, you, being beat up.

"Let's just get to know him. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." Elliott closed his eyes to fall asleep. Even though they were no longer discussing it, they both had a silent, mutual understanding: They both hated Matt.

I did normal Matt Sturniolo tags on this chapter because it is pretty light. If you are reading this for the first time the other chapters are NOT light. Proceed with caution.

[pixel-punk-chaos]

Hey Billy Defenders !

I might have started a little discussion today with someone who claimed that Billy doesn't deserve sympathy...

It was about a post (who do you miss more Eddie or Billy )

In response I just said to the person: "Why? because he was a victim of child abuse? Wow"

To which this person just replied that Johnathan was just as much a victim of child abuse by Lonnie as Billy was, but he wasn't acting like an asshole.

Okay folks. In principle, the commentator is right. Johnathan was a victim of child abuse because of his father. But you're not seriously going to tell me that the abuse Johnathan experienced was on the same scale as Billy. Billy has experienced an extreme amount of abuse for as long as he can remember. And still is.

Johnathan was able to escape from this situation because of his parents' divorce. Billy still experiences this on a daily basis. He is humiliated, shouted at, beaten and I don't know what else.

Johnathan would probably also be so aggressive towards other people if he still hadn't escaped this circle of abuse. He was also quite cool and distant before he met Nancy.

Another very important point that sets Billy and Johnathan apart.

Johnathan has Joyce (a loving mother who looks after him), Will (a little brother who cares about him), Nancy (who loves him more than anything), and so on. People who look after him, who give him security and a feeling of safety.

What does Billy have? A mother who ran away when he was a child, a stepmother who doesn't give a shit about him and a little sister who only really realized “oh he meant something to me lol” after his death.

Can you really talk about people taking care of him? No. He is alone and has no one who cares for him, who gives him security. He is constantly under pressure, afraid that what he is doing is wrong or not okay and that he will get into trouble. So it's normal for him to attack. Approach a frightened tiger in a cage, it certainly won't start crying but will attack lol.

Dacre said himself that Billy is a very sensitive person. Just if you can look more than just in front of his head, you can see “oh yeah this guy is a broken and traumatized person”. Billy has anxiety like nothing else. The self-confidence? Fake it till you make it baby.

Like come on anyone who still says “no he's a monster and doesn't deserve sympathy” after season 3 at the latest simply hasn't understood his character in my opinion.

You can't just condemn someone for suffering trauma and building a protective wall.

And if you now come "but the Byers House scene" brooooo Billy was automatically portrayed as the bad guy. He turns on the protagonists, of course you're not supposed to sympathize with him in that scene.... (Even though Billy had more than one point from his point of view wtf ?)

Of course Billy's trauma and stuff isn't an excuse for what he did. It's just an explanation and maybe but just maybe a redemption arc would have helped there to feel some sympathy for him ?

Idk I had to let that out.

So guys I'm going to get back to drawing my Harringrove picture !

Have a nice weekend 👋🏻

[neetily]

SEBASTIAN BEGGING AND PLEADING FOR IT slightly forcing you into it please :3

this one is weird, maybe. but i really like creepy pervert sebastian the most </3... warnings: lying, dubcon, begging, masturbation, face humping, facial, cheeks..... wc: 2,506

It’s just because he’s bored.

That’s all— he’s just bored. A lazy Wednesday afternoon, Sam is busy working his shift at JojaMart, and Abi is… Well, he doesn’t rightly know where Abi is. All that’s important to know is that she isn’t here, and neither is Sam. Leaving just you, and him, all alone in his basement room after you supposedly dropped off some materials for his mother, and he bets it was his moms idea to have you come down to visit him just now too, right? You’d rather be anywhere else but here, huh?

Go say hi, would you? He’s not been out his room in a little while, and I think he could use some company!

Or something like that anyway… An unnecessary outing you likely felt obligated to complete out of sheer social pressure. This is why I don’t leave my room, mom.

But he’s thankful— Really! Happy that you felt the burning weight of niceties upon your weary wood carrying shoulders to kindly pay him a visit, even if only to make his mom happy for a brief moment. He’s glad that you’re seemingly unable to say no, not to his mom, and certainly not to him as he inches closer to you with a forced smiled tugging at his lips. You're in the perfect position for it too, unfortunatel.

“C’mon,” he leers at you, eyeing up the way the fabric of your clothes cling to your frame from the heat of his basement. “They’re just… They’re so cute, I can’t help myself…”

The art of acting casual never came easy to him, anxiety palpable on his face no doubt. But he isn’t lying at least, and that’s gotta count for something, right? His heart racing at the cute little pout you sport in response to his over eager affections, an expression that he’s sure wouldn’t be present if only he knew you a little better, took time out of his day to visit you and hang out with you beyond surface level hello’s and goodbye’s.

He’s trying now. Because he’s bored.

Or so he keeps telling himself, conveniently ignoring the plenty sleepless nights he’s spent fisting his cock merely to the thought of you. The sly glimpses he gets of you throughout the day burned into his mind, behind cracked door slits when you visit his mom, or behind crowds at the saloon every Friday night. It’s easy to forget all about just how much he loves whimpering your name into his cum stained sheets every night when your resting upon them right now, attempting to avoid his grabby hands as they creep closer, and closer, pretending not to hear the way you protest his touch.

“Jus’ a little…” He slurs, nonetheless approaching nearer to those chubby lil cheeks that have taunted him oh so much, oh so often. “Please,” he begs, pouting down at your pretty scowl with a twitch in his pants— he just hopes you cant see exactly how much your distaste turns him on. That'd be embarrassing, as if he wasn't being so already. “It’ll be quick, jus’— ah, jus’ lemme pinch em a little…”

It really shouldn’t sound so creepy, right? All he wants to do is squish and squeeze your cute chubby cheeks to his hearts content— as they’re begging of him right now. It’s only right that he gives your body what it’s asking of him, especially since you seemingly don’t realise it yourself. He’s just helping…

You mumble his name, but he’s a little too enamoured by the way your bottom lip wobbles as he grows closer, slowly creeping, until his fingertips hover above the apple of your cheeks and he’s so fucking close to making contact, and his cock drools a little bit in excitement over being so close to you, looming over your trembling frame, and— “Sebastian!” he hears you gasp, and the slight hint of annoyance present in your tone sends a shiver down his perverted spine. Followed by a sharp inhale of his own to recover the way you so easily knock the wind out of him, begging for his attention to which he so happily gives to you with a lazy smirk.

“Promise t’be quick, please.” He continues on regardless, unwilling to hear you out in favor of pressing the pads of his fingertips gently against your cheeks, soon followed by his thumbs, and oh you’re just as soft as he’d imagined as he presses them together… A little too squirmy for his liking, as he has to fight with the way you wriggle around in an attempt to free yourself from his grasp, but he’s not letting go so easily. Not any time soon anyway. Not when he can so readily position himself to be fully on top of you—silly girl, you should never have accepted his proposal to sit on the bed for a nice chat—straddling your hips before you have a chance to stop him, really. All so he can squish and pinch your cute, chubby little cheeks all night long if he wanted to. Because he’s bored. Because he can think of nothing better to do than to tug and tease your skin to his hearts content.

Because it’s fucking hot, actually. Obviously, rather. But he’s doing his best to hide that ugly truth, and hopes you’ll be thankful about it.

Because it’s much easier to hide behind the pure and simple want to squish your cheeks because they’re cute, rather than admit where his fault lie. And they are, don’t get him wrong. The cutest ever, actually. But it’s getting increasingly difficult to hide his hard on from you, because for as much as he ends up tilting your pretty face up to meet his half lidded gaze, you just as strongly attempt to fight back, and the way your body squirms from under him— God, he could cream his fucking pants on the spot to be honest with you. Just by looking at the prettily forced pout you’re forced to wear with his paws on your cheeks, cute kissable lips begging him for a taste, all nice and wet just for him, right? And the way your brows furrow together so cutely, sweetly knitted for his own personal enjoyment too. And— And fuck, how soft and squishy you are under his teasing touch... Pliantly allowing him to tug and pull on every inch of your cheeks he can reach, until you playfully, briefly, escape his grasp, only for him to find you once more.

“See,” He huffs down at you, unable to hide the wide smile you always seem to pull out of him. “Just teasing, s’all, promise—” a breathless laugh follows his lie, cock bobbing above you in his pants when you refuse to settle under him. If only he could just— just squeeze you a little more, y'know? Get rid of his boredom by pinching at different pockets of fat, a flash of your hips entering his mind and well, he's much faster and sneakier than you are.

It doesn't take much to get him going, and the squeak of surprise you immediately let out upon his grubby hands coming into contact with your hidden waist proves as much. Prompting a light sigh to escape him, though he's quick to recover to save face when around such a cutie like yourself. And more importantly, he was right. This is more fun, a faster cure for his boredom.

"Sorry, sorry," lies tumble from his lips, bitten before you to try and hold back on the lewd moans he so badly wants to let out for you, to show you exactly just how much fun he's having with your body right now. "I didn't mean to, I just— You're so cute and I— I mean," he can babble as much as he wants, he knows that there's no hiding the gross grin he sends your way, if your desperate recoil further into his dirty sheets is anything to go by.

"Couldn't help myself..." he finally mutters, like a dog. A broken record stuck on replay, mumbling the same excuses over and over again because all the blood in his body is rushing down to his cock and he can't make sense of anything beyond just how badly he wants to touch you. Grope you. Feel you. Do anything with you so long as his hands are on you. Like a filthy fucking pervert.

"Seb, I think— Think that's enough, right?" Your voice comes out as a quiver, a shaky sigh at best. Something so easily ignored, he thinks.

You should learn to speak up around men like him.

Because in truth, you're probably right. It's not like you consider him a friend as such, more like a welcomed acquaintance, right? And yet here he is, straddling your lap with his nails digging in to your soft sides, hard cock standing tall and proud before you as it trembles behind the layer of cloth barrier his jeans provide, and you're doing very little to stop him from going further.

Which means you must want him too, right?

Not that it'll stop him begging for it, mind you. Relenting in his prodding and touching only to be able to unzip his pants, his fat bulge spilling out for you to gasp at in the meantime. "Can I, just a little, if it's okay," He starts, practically drooling at the way you cower from him, like a coy little thing. "Can I get it out, please?" it's not really a question, seeing as he's already tugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free before he even finishes asking, a fat bead of precum rolling from the tip and onto your front to stain your clothes all sticky. "I just need to, only for a bit. Hurts, see?" He begs for your attention, following your gaze down to the way his cock throbs and jerks against his barely there touch, all hard and wet because of you.

"I, I see, but—"

"C'mon, please! It won't take long, not if it's with you. Promise for real this time." He shuffles with his words, soon straddling your chest with his cock twitching right between your eyes, and the way you squint up at it, unable to decline his advancement only has his cock pulsing harder.

And without even understand exactly what he's asking for—not that he gives you much time to anyway—he sees your very nod. Meagre at best, like you'd rather just get this all over and done with as soon as possible as opposed to any active involvement, but he's not about to complain. Cock rock hard and leaking all over himself just from feeling your breath fan against his balls, and God, you can't blame him for angling his tip down against those soft and squishy cheeks to smear plenty precum across them, especially when you let out the smallest little whimper, and despite being unable to decipher if it's enjoyment or fear, he's still fucking done for either way.

"God, I'm so sorry, but—" his hips buck against you, involuntarily but more than welcome given just how fucking good it feels to graze his cock upon your face. "But you're so pretty, and— and I really like you, and, oh fuck—" he thrusts again, this time placing his hand hard against the top of his girth, so his cock in turn rubs harsher against your face in the faux pussy he's simulating right now. Your face, his cock, and then his hand. A stupid sandwich that feels oddly intimate to him, in a way that his has balls taut and his cock drooling all over you some more, as if his aim was to be as messy as possible.

And he's not lying, he really does like you. It's one of the only truths he's said so far tonight actually, proven by how he almost immediately settles into an unfair fast pace against your cheek, humping and grinding recklessly despite the squeak of his bed under his weight. An added bonus to living in the basement— nobody but him can hear the way you stifle whines and swallow moans.

It's just that you suit his cock so well.

"Look, I'm sorry," he exhales shakily, slowly, trying to keep up with the silly speed he's set for himself, but the feeling of his balls slapping against your chin is so nice, and the wet squelch of his cock gliding against your lips and your cheek and up to your squeezed shut eye— "Let me feel good, let's feel good together, okay? Please?" it's too much as he continues to plead with you, because it all feels too fucking good to be using you like this, to have you willingly sit there and let him rut like a bitch in heat whilst he begs for your forgiveness, because he's nothing but a stupid mutt with a horny cock and he can't. Fucking. Help himself.

Can't stop feeling good, not even if he tried. Drool pooling behind his teeth at the way you try your best to sit still for his rutting, but the soft scowl you wear when his precum dribbles down the side of your cheek is tell tale enough. It's gross, isn't it?. He's being nasty right now, isn't he? But he thinks that that's whats getting him off the most.

Your dislike for him and the situation he's begged himself into.

"'M close—" he intends to warn you, but this yet again sounds like some sort of pleading. An imploring to sit still and be nice. "Please please pleasepleaseplease, fuck please—" he whines, all high pitched and feminine from the way his back arches into every thrust, really angling his cock tip to squish against your cheek with his humps and fucks until finally, after you exhale long and disapprovingly against his girth, he manages to show you just how much he likes you.

Thick fat ropes of cum shoot from his tip, inevitably painting your pretty face all white and sticky with seed. Fat load fucked right against your face, coating across your eye to glue it shut as a reminder of what's just happened, if you might have second guessed it later. And even then, after he's covered you in as much cum as he can, he absently spreads his stain all over your used cheek, aiming a few shots down at your lips so that you can taste just how much fun he's been having.

Though he's not done there, not even as he begrudgingly removes his cock from your sticky face and once again straddles your waist. No, still he waits for you to say something, only so that he may interrupt with another beg.

"Um... Sebastian, can you—"

"Please let me have a taste—" he cuts you off with a pounce, planting his lips firmly against yours just to share the sweet saltiness he's just rubbed into your face.

[absolutewriter]

A kind debt

Before you read, please keep in mind that my media consumption of DC is very limited- I've mostly consumed the animated shows.

Summary: Kal-el finds himself in the warmth of a quiet home, a kind reader offering him a place to stay and a delicious dinner.

Absolute Superman x reader (GN)

Masterlist , notes at the end.

The sun was low, not that many could tell due to the clouds and pollution that littered the sky, the only tell was the dark red coloring of the falling sun. The indication of the day ending and curfew setting into place had people ushering their kids inside the small homes, closing their front doors and cracking their windows in preparation for the night. The smell of dinner didn't reach far, families struggling to scrap enough together to feed the young or elderly.

It was routine for everyone, feed the important people first- usually the children- then let everyone else portion what little was left. The working men would push their plates to their wives and parents, saying it wasn't needed even though they worked almost the entire day.

Kal-el looked down at the plate in front of him, hair following down and draping over his face, obscuring his eyes from your gaze. There was a proud smile on your face as you looked at the top of his head, completely ignoring how you couldn't see his eyes anymore.

“Enjoy!” You said, walking behind the man- almost strutting with pride over how you were able to feed the Superman that was helping people around the world, helping people like you. It felt nice, making a meal for someone else, someone who helped.

It wasn't intentional, feeding him, when you first saw him it didn't even register that he was the Superman. All you were trying to do was get him out of the broken down street, just an hour before curfew was no time for anyone to be walking out there, obviously he didn't have a place to stay- the only reasonable explanation. Quickly you had ran out and grabbed into him, pulling his arm- with him in tow- into your home just before the Lazarus soldiers turned the corner of the street to see either of you.

After you had closed the door was another story. You were finally able to get a good look at him, the stress washing off into worry for the new man who almost got himself hurt. The worry was unwarranted, he has very quietly pushed you off when you tried checking him for any injury, the Superman or not it was polite. And that's how he ended up at your dinner table, a plate of pasta in front of him.

When you walked behind him your hand gently slipped across his shoulders, which in turn tensed under the gentle touch of your hand. His head whipped around to look at you, eyeing your head from behind as you walked into a different room, he was still on survival instincts- that's all he was ever on now a days.

“Kal-el, I suggest you eat” Sol has said in his ear, the suit taking control of his hand for a mere second to nudge it closer to the fork. “The food has several registered proteins.”

He glances down at the plate again, looking at the tomato chunks in the sauce. It wasn't hard for him to give in, if Sol thought it was safe who was he to resist? After living off of scraps and very small meals given to him, this was like a dream. Kal-el took the fork and picked at the pasta, twirling it around before eating what was collected on the fork.

God did it taste better than his usual diet, all the fighting and wandering really worked up an appetite for him. He continued to eat like any normal person would, hunched over with both his arms on the table, absolutely inhaling the entire plate which resulted in barely giving himself time to chew. When you came back in he had a hand on his chest while quietly coughing to get some of the food unstuck from his throat.

It was a humorous sight, the people's hero struggling to calmly eat spaghetti which resulted in the sauce covering his lower face. “Here” you offered a hand towel over to him, leaning on the table while watching him wipe his face. “I got a room set up for you. It's not much, but I made sure the most comfortable blankets I have will be yours tonight.” Pushing yourself off the table you take the now empty plate from him and go to set it on the counter.

He made a small sound of protest, staring at the plate on the counter before making eye contact with you. “Seconds?” He eagerly nods, turning back around to sit properly at the table for a moment, then he turns back around and looks you right in the eyes. “Thank you” he offered before rushing to turn around again.

As soon as the player hit the table again he dug in, this time going a little slower so he could properly process it instead of choking silently. You pulled out a chair and sat at the end of the table, resting your head on your hands and watching him enjoy the last of your portions- something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

Soon after he pushed the plate towards you, half of it still full of pasta. His silent offer was polite, but from the way he was looking at the plate still you could tell he wanted the rest. “I'm okay” you replied, gently reaching over to push the plate back to him. The action made him perk up and pull the plate back towards him to finish off the rest in big bites.

The hand towel given to him earlier was once again used to fully wipe away any leftover sauce. When he set the towel down and looked at you it was like a bright light flashing at you, his eyes trained on yours while he gently set the fork on the plate with a ‘clink’!

“Thank you” He repeats the only thing he's said all night. “You're welcome” You reply, offering him a smile that he doesn't return, but that's okay. Pushing back your chair you stand up and take the plate from him, he didn't look at it this time.

After the plate was set down in the sink you gesture over to the room you had left a little while ago, “that'll be your room for tonight. Please make yourself comfortable.” The offer was kind and it's obvious he understood, standing up and slowly walking over to look into the room. It was empty besides the bed and a small table next to it. “I apologize that it isn't much.”

He turns back to you when you speak, resting a hand on the door frame, “It's fine, thank you.” Him speaking more than two words was a surprise, though you laughed to yourself at how he has said ‘thank you’ three times tonight- almost back to back.

“Please, get some rest. I'm sure your body needs it.” You gesture for him to go into the room, turning around to do the dishes right after, not at all bothering to make sure he actually went into the room. Not that it matters, he did listen.

“Rest is recommended, a mere 6 hours would help replenish your health.” Sol spoke up, gently ringing in Kal-el’s ear as he closed the door. Kal-el just nodded and walked over to the bed, pushing back all of the blankets and getting into it. He only pulled two of the blankets backup to cover him, not really needing them to stay warm for the night.

His mind replayed the events of the night, up until he entered the bedroom he now rested in. He saw no reason for your kindness to be given to him, to allow him to be in the safety of your walls and eat your food, to rest peacefully in your blankets. To rest in the warmth of a home, albeit a lonely one.

Your hospitality would not go un-repaid, he swore it to himself. He would figure out how to give back the kindness you had shown him, and with that last thought he drifted into one of the nicest dreams he'd had in a long time.

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

Hopefully I wrote him okay. I read all the Absolute Superman comics today and really fell in love with him, probably more than regular Superman if I'm being honest.

I would love to write for more of the Absolute universe soon, so if you've got any ideas please feel free to tell me about them!! ❤️

[miryum]

"Bodega Perps"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Jason kept glancing over at his fiancée. She really was a beautiful fiancée. A very smart fiancée and one who wasn’t giving in to Jason's stares. She was his fiancée. Most nights, he just spent his minutes looking at her, thanking the stars that she had said yes. He was going to marry the love of his life. Damian interrupted his lovesick thoughts with a swift kick to his chair. “Romeo,” he said. “Sergeant said to get your head out of your ass and keep working.”

“When did he say that?” Jason scoffed, turning to look at Damian.

“He didn’t. But I noticed.” In response, Jason sighed and went to complain to Dick about Damian.

“Hey,” Cass knocked on Y/n’s desk. The detective’s head whipped over and she shoved her body in front of her computer. “Someone robbed a bodega on 4th Street. It's the fifth one this week. Anyway, Wayne wants us to interview some of the bodega owners and figure out where to assign additional officers.” She nodded towards Y/n’s computer. “I put a map up on the server–”

“No!” Y/n interrupted with an exclamation, slamming her laptop shut. “Just email it to me, please. Bye!”

Cass shot Y/n a hard look. “Why'd you close your laptop?” she asked. “What’re you hiding?”

“Nurthing,” Y/n said after a moment, pressing her chin to her chest and looking up at Cass awkwardly.

“You're hiding something,” Cass observed.

“Just because I said ‘nurthing?’” Y/n asked, scoffing.

“Yes.” She pushed Y/n’s rolling chair to the side and opened the computer to reveal a screen of wedding dress options. “Aww, you're looking at wedding dresses? That one's dope.” Cass pointed to one.

“That's not what I was doing,” Y/n deflected. “My computer must've gone to this site on its own.” The lie could’ve been spotted by a kindergartener. 

“How is that possible?” Cass crossed her arms.

Y/n stuck her tongue out at her friend. “It's broken. I'll fix it.” She shoved her computer into the trash can. “There, it's fixed.”

“You're weird.”

“I know.”

Y/n had her thumbs hooked in her police vest as she and Cass walked down the streets of Gotham. “So I can spare four uniformed officers to do hourly pass-bys of the bodegas south of fourth.” Her eyes caught on a storefront and her words trailed off slightly, “and I'll coordinate with the, um… hourly pass-bys of the…”

“What was that?” Cass asked, looking around.

“That was me talking about hourly pass-bys.”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about the hourly pass-bys,” the female detective said in an enthusiastic, lively voice before her tone dropped back down to her normal octave. “Twice. There was a subtle side look, L/n.” She stopped walking and punched her friend on the shoulder lightly.

“There was no subtle side look!” Y/n exclaimed.

“You're right, 'cause it wasn't subtle,” Cass agreed. She squinted back at the stores they had passed. “It was an unsubtle side look at… that dress in the shop. Why are you being such a nutjob about looking for a wedding dress?” She huffed, looking back at Y/n.

“Because being a female detective is difficult!” Y/n sighed. “You of all people know this. We have to work twice as hard to gain respect and looking at girly dresses isn't going to help. Plus, it's an important job, and I need to make it a priority.”

“Dude, I get that, but if you want a beautiful wedding dress, you deserve to find one. Now Jason is your priority as you are so very clearly his.” She huffed and mirrored Y/n’s stance with her thumbs hooked in her pockets. “Look, there are no cops around. Nobody's gonna see you. Why don't we just take our break now, try one on? Okay?”

Y/n looked almost sheepish as she quietly agreed, “okay.”

“Okay?” Cass said a bit louder, catching Y/n’s stare.

“Okay.” There was now a smile on her face.

“Okay?!” Cass’ voice rose to a shout and both women could feel the excitement rising.

“Okay. Hell yeah!” she cheered. 

Cheering her on, Cass hurried her to the dress boutique, but they found a sign taped to the door. “They are closed. We will come back later.”

“Yerp,” Y/n clicked her tongue.

Cass stuck out like a sore thumb in the wedding dress store. In a world of white and rose pink and cream, fairy lights, pillows, and glasses of champagne, Cass was quite literally the leather jacket and pants of it. Meanwhile, Y/n stood on a little pedestal with mirrors on three sides. She was wearing the first wedding dress she had ever tried on and there was a little scrunch between her brows. It was a loose column dress with an awkward sash diagonally across the chest. “So what do you think?” Cass asked bluntly, taking a gulp of champagne.

“Mm, I don't love the sash,” Y/n confessed, turning slightly to analyse herself. “But it's fine. I'm just gonna get it.” She shrugged, lips in a tight line.

“What?” Cass almost choked on her drink. “That's the first one you tried on! I once saw you look at twenty-four different plushies of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh and not buy any of them due to incorrect tail placement and the emotion in his eyes.”

“That’s different!” Y/n argued. “Eeyore is a complicated character and eyes are the window to the soul! I just don't want to take up any more time,” she added, twisting around again to scrutinise herself.

“Your break's not even a quarter done,” Cass pointed out, taking a sip of her champagne.

The detective bargained, “I'll stay another ten minutes.”

“You'll stay until I dismiss you,” Cass corrected her sharply. “Teresa, music,” she demanded from the attendant who was all too happy to comply. Twirling a finger in the hair, she ordered, “now spin.”

Y/n was mid spin when Cass’ walkie-talkie crackled to life. “All units: attempted 1030-Charlie. Bodega on Smith. Perp is heading east on Riviera.”

“That's us!” Cass realised, grasping at her walkie and jumping to her feet. We're on Riviera. Oh, crap.”

A figure ran past the window, a bag clutched in the man’s hand. “That was him!” Y/n gasped and instinctively, she shoved the door open and began pursuing him. “Hey! NYPD, stop!” Her dress was flying out behind her like a white flowing cape. “Hey! Stop.” Passerbys either watched with rapt attention or just kept walking – it was simply another day in Gotham. The man turned into an alley and tripped over a couch before stumbling past it. Not breaking stride, Y/n jumped over the couch. She was able to gain on the perp, tackling him to the ground. Y/n ripped the sash off the dress and bound his hands with it, wrapping it securely around his wrists. The man grunted and tried to struggle, but eventually gave up. “Stay down!”

Cass slowed her run and let out a low whistle. “Damn, L/n,” she complimented.

“Maybe I do like the sash,” Y/n admitted with a grin.

Y/n and Cass marched into the precinct, Y/n still in the wedding gown and the sash still firmly coiled around the perp’s hands. She looked a little dishevelled with her hair coming out of its updo, but there was still an audible thud from Jason dropping his files on the floor. 

The detective shoved the perp into the holding cell and Tim commented, “oh, is that the wedding dress from the Erica Somerlend 2017 winter collection?”

“No way, the bodice is totally different.” Steph shook her head.

“Why do you two know so much about wedding dresses?” Cass asked, a judging look on her face, though that was hardly different from her usual expression.

Steph looked offended and pressed a hand to her chest. “We can have taste, thank you very much.”

“Alright, that's enough,” Y/n waved a hand in the air. “Can we just get back to police work and stop talking about wedding dresses?” she begged.

“You know what? No.” Cass put her foot down metaphorically. “We're gonna talk about them because while wearing a wedding dress, you leapt over a couch, sprinted down an alley, and subdued the crap out of a perp like you were fucking Wonder Woman or Batman.” Her voice rose slightly as she tried to get her friend to see just how badass she was.

A slow smile overtook the newly engaged woman’s face. “It was pretty cool, wasn't it?”

“Y/n, you are an amazing cop and you have proven that a billion bajillion times over. You can't let other people's opinions get in the way of what you want, especially because other people suck,” Cass said bluntly, but it was just what Y/n needed to hear.

Y/n twisted her hips so the dress twirled a bit out around her and Jason, from across the bullpen, made a choking sound. “Well, if I'm being honest,” Y/n hummed. “I would like a prettier dress.”

“There you go!” Cass praised loudly, hands thrown up in the air.

As Y/n went on to describe her dream dress and Cass kept hyping her up, Jason slowly saddled up behind his fiancée. His hands went to her hips, still clad in a wedding gown she hated, and his lips went to her ear. Y/n was so used to it by now, but Steph groaned something about workplace indecency. “Isn’t it bad luck for a groom to see his bride like this before the wedding?” His voice was low and husky and as much as Y/n wanted to make a joke or laugh it off, she felt her knees weaken.

“This won’t be my dress, Jay.” She turned to look at him, raising a brow. “Don’t worry. Your superstition won’t be broken.”

“Good,” Jason managed out before clasping his lips to hers.

[munnmolads]

High & Low Culture WU story summary and other interesting details

High & Low Culture story is a new story under "World Underneath" which opens up more about Thomas' life with some sprinkled RafMC in the side. I'll summarize the story and dive deep into the details in this story.

Summary

This story starts with interview from Thomas - he accidentally hadn't synced up the schedule to Rafayel and the Interviewee demanded it would be about Rafayel and as soon as possible. As a emergency replacement he gives Interview about Rafayel.

As the interview ends, Thomas head out home to celebrate his birthday with his wife Solana and small daughter. After dinner preparations they are about to eat cake, when Rafayel calls to him. Thomas immediately jumps to get his coat as if Rafayel is calling to him, it must be important. Rafayel says in a unsually serious tone he needs to come to his studio as there is important things to discuss.

When Thomas comes out from the elevator, he is greeted by Rafayel and MC, wishing him a happy birthday and bring him a present. Thomas invites them to his home, but they both decline politely and leave Thomas to spend time with his family.

After the interview is out, it is getting viral with several comments and the interviewees than Thomas for the collaboration. Thomas looks up the comments, hoping to find people enjoying his insight until he finds a few mentions about himself, and turns off his phone satisfied. Solana smiles next to him, implied that she was behind some of the comments.

Interesting details about Thomas & his family:

This is the first time we hear about him having a wife Solana and daughter, his daughter's name wasn't mentioned

He often insists that there is no need for formalities with him and just to call him "Thomas", just as he does during the main story

He lives in a aparment complex in higher floors, so possibly in a penthouse

It's mentioned that he wears designer clothes and jewelry, but that he's only wearing them for the interview so it's possible he likes to dress more casually on a average day

He's been in art management for several years and started out as a agent, later partnered with Rafayel to open a art gallery

He works with other artists than Rafayel as well

Thomas's phone rings continuously - during the time he was home he got atleast 6 calls if we count the one with Rafayel

He is really hardworking and swamped with work that he forgot to schedule the interview for Rafayel

His favorite show is a romantic drama called "Let's Watch the Meteor Shower"

Solana loves garlic shrimp

He haggles prices in the market

Both he and Solana are very used to the family life already

Solana supports Thomas with small gestures - holds his phone over his ear when he cooks and sending anonymous comments praising his work

Things Thomas mentioned about Rafayel and other details about their friendship:

He and Rafayel have been friends for many years

They have a synced schedule for work

He joked about Rafayel holding a fish bowl over his head to see things from fish's perspective

He never really pries into Rafayel's ways to getting inspiration

He firmly thinks Rafayel can never lose his creative spark

Rafayel doesn't care about how much his painting sell for or his commercial value as an artist

He thinks Rafayel is remarkable artist

If Rafayel calls him late at night, that means it's an emergency

Thomas used to bring food to Rafayel to make sure he doesn't forget to eat when painting - he stopped doing it once MC and Rafayel started dating and MC takes care of it now

He cares about Rafayel's private life enough that he keeps clear boundaries with what he tells and doesn't tell during interviews

Rafayel cares about Thomas being overworked

Thomas wants to Rafayel give him less things to worry about the next year and that he and MC are together for a long time

Additional thoughs:

In the anecdote "Unique Vermillion" it's stated that Thomas started to learn business management to work with Rafayel - I assume this is where he started as an agent for him

I think this story highlights nicely how good relationship Thomas and Rafayel has - even though Rafayel seems like an ass towards Thomas, it's mostly him just acting out towards the people he cares most about because they are the ones who challenge him the most

This is my own headcanon from this story since GarlicShrimpSupremacy seems to be Solana's comment, I want to think that "rafayelridefisheatfish" is MC who commented on it too to show support for Thomas 🥹It has to be a reference to the moments post where Rafayel mentions about knowing MC's nickname was "rafayel_ridable_fish_dinner"

Overall, I really enjoyed this story even though it is on a shorter side. I will add to this post if I remember or realise new things about it! I have made lists like these about the other stories for Rafayel so I need to go back and see my notes if I have more to add to them now.

[writing-whump]

Wolves in the garden

Isaiah and Matt have a talk. Lots of existential angst and concerns about the future.

"Okay, so what are we doing here?" Matt said, rocking on the balls of his feet.

Isaiah huffed softly next to him. It was a beautiful day and early enough that the streets weren't crowded.

The park he chose had wide gardens and lot of monuments, so there were corners to hide behind. The row of young trees honoring names of couples, parents and loved ones was just ahead. He liked that place.

"Is there going to be some kind of pack struggle? You want me to back you up?" Matthew craned his neck, as if something truly surprising could manifest without him hearing it first.

Isaiah just smiled to himself and kept walking.

"Come on! The anticipation is killing me," Matt whined, the wind blowing through his dark red bangs.

Isaiah wasn't really sure who he wanted to calm with the place. Or if he shouldn't have chosen the Donaukanal instead, cause the river offered a longer promenade. And more greenery and open space. That felt good to shadows.

"I want to talk to you about something important," Isaiah said, stopping by a decorated bench in the sunlight, but not sitting on it.

Matthew eyed him wearily. "Jesus, okay. So no fun today."

Isaiah turned to look towards the center of the park instead of the ornamented fence separating them from the street. "How have you been feeling about the recent developments? The Executioner stuff, the...the events, the wolves?"

Matthew frowned. "It's alright, I guess. If you want to do it, then it's fine."

"Well, that's just the thing." Isaiah straightened, pulling his hands out of the pockets of his coat. "It's what I want to do. You are just going with it."

He felt more than saw Matthew looking up sharply at that through his peripheral vision. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm saying that I don't really get the impression you are going after anything. You are finishing school, you come to the events, you go with us on trips—you accept any decision me or Seline make."

"I'm just being supportive. What's wrong with that?"

"It's not wrong," Isaiah said with a sigh. "I just want to make sure it's really all you want to be doing. Seline is gonna finish her MA and go after a PhD. I'm...taking up this Executioner bussiness, whatever form it might take in the future. Rip is getting involved as my eyes and ears in the city."

Matthew had a deep scowl on his face now, which Isaiah took as a sign his second knew where this was going.

Isaiah kicked a gravel off the sidewalk. He wasn't all that sure he had the right to do this. His packmates weren't his subordinates and Matthew wasn't his younger brother he could scold and ask about life directions.

He felt a similar responsibility and protectivness though. A friend might just wait for Matthew to bring it up himself, but he had been waiting long enough for a reaction or a protest or some kind of hint.

It was kinda important to know Matthew's stance in the financial matters. Matthew studied economy and liked it, as if he wanted to make money with it. Which he could.

But he also could just stay involved with the pack interests and influence, which would make it entirely alright to be financed from it too. A pack leader was responsible for making his pack comfortable, securing their life. And they answered to him for that.

Was that a dynamic he and Matthew wanted to have though? Seline was very clear about her no before Isaiah even explained how it worked.

Isaiah was a little scared to drop the word "money" around Matt without him freaking out.

Which was ridiculous, cause Isaiah was fine with financing him—Matt and Seline both and Dylan and Rip. They were in his pack, it would be hide pride and honor to take care of them. They were already putting up with his weird burdersome Executioner activities. He had enough of his inheritance to found a pack properly.

"Look, if you are asking if I'll be able to carry my part, I'll figure something out. I have been looking into trading for a while now, actually. There is potential in that."

Isaiah nodded to himself. That was online and safe, but also stressful and unpredictable. Risky fit.

"You don't have to," Isaiah said, almost soundless.

The wind picked up, the trees rustling above their heads.

Matthew growled at him at that. "Of course I have to. I'm not gonna be leeching off of you like some damn parasite."

"If you take active role in the pack dealings, you won't need a job. That's how it works for Rip." Why was Isaiah surrounded by people who didn't want to take his money?

Matthew's eyebrows formed one wavy line on his forehead. "I can step up my game for that, but I can also-"

"You can also," Isaiah agreed. "Rip can't. He doesn't have anything else he can do in the human world. I don't know how comfortable you are with it, but you have that chance. A legitimate option for you." Isaiah turned to face Matthew properly. "I don't want to take it away from you by soaking you up in pack politics you don't even like. I'm not saying you wouldn't be useful, you can have a valid role there. But is it what you want?"

Matthew broke the eye contact first, looking back at the garden. 10 from 10 for greenery then.

"I don't have a problem with this, Matt, don't misunderstand me," Isaiah said, sitting down gingerly on the bench, leaving Matt some space. "I'm fine with either way. I can afford you. You can stay as a friend, as a wolf, as whatever job you find. You are part of the pack, whatever you want to do. You don't have to do anything at all if you don't-"

Matt scoffed at him at that, folding his arms on his chest in an offended grimace.

Isaiah winced with an awkward smile. "I'm really bad at this."

Matthew shook his head, deflating a little at the admission. "You don't want to tell me what to do, but you want me to choose something."

"As a pack leader I need to know how to best support you. As a friend..."

Matthew raised an eyebrow for him to continue.

Isaiah cleared his throat. "As a friend, I think you are stagnating. Frozen."

"Wait a minute-"

"You don't have dreams or wishes of your own. You support us and you go along with everything I do or Seline wants or Rip needs or Dylan asks. And I don't know, if this is because you are simply still looking or if you don't need a grant mission in life and that's fine...or if you are afraid, cause your shadow is finally stable and you don't want to upset it by daring to want something for yourself."

They were quiet for a long while, avoiding looking at each other.

The bench creaked under Matthew's wait as he sat down next to Isaiah. The red wolf took a deep breath. "Okay, fair. I just...the only thing I'm good at has been fighting-"

"That's not true-"

"Let me finish. I have been good at it and I like it and it suits my shadow. So I thought you would have a use for it. Cause your fights would have been meaningful." He smiled unhappily. "My shadow just wants to fight, it really doesn't matter with whom or for what."

"There is nothing wrong with sparring and exercise and a sense of achievement in a skill."

Matthew gave him a side-way glare, then continued. "The thing is, your job isn't about fighting, is it? You are more of a peacemaker. Not that I understand all the details, but you use diplomacy more than fights."

It was Isaiah's turn to tense up, muscles locking up painfully with a sharp intake of breath.

"It works because you are the strongest. They know you could and that's why you don't have to. Honestly, it's crazy cool," Matt said with a real grin this time.

Isaiah let out a long sigh, leaning back against the bench. The sky above was clear and intensely blue.

"But you don't need me for that, which leaves me a bit lost," Matthew finished, leaning forward above his feet to look at his shadow. It was wiggling under their feet like a stressed out cat.

Isaiah put a hand on Matthew's shoulder. "You have time to figure it out. I just don't want you to hold yourself back out of fear." He glanced down at the upset shadow. "If you could have anything without a concern for it, what would it be? What would you want to do?"

"The last thing I remember wanting wasn't grant," Matthew said, sounding defeated. "But I still can't have it."

"Shadows don't handle loss well. We carry it with us at all times," Isaiah said. "That's why I have a suggestion."

"Oh?"

"The problems with your shadow started in your teens because of your family. I think that going back to the roots of the problem, facing it, resolving it...could bring you the kind of peace in your shadow you currently lack."

Matthew's frown was back on. "You don't mean..."

"It's just a suggestion. An option," Isaiah underlined. "An opportunity. You don't have to take it. It's entirely up to you."

"Spit it out," Matthew said through his teeth, brown eyes so focused Isaiah was expecting them to ignite.

"There is a way to meet your sisters. Are you interested?"

[localwebslingers]

Little by little, Harry looked less and less okay and Peter wished he could do something to try and make it easier. Make it feel just the slightest bit better than it looked like it did, because he didn't need the same kind of heightened instincts to immediately notice the second the first cracks started showing in Harry's composure and mask. Watched the little pieces of it fall away and for a second time, and probably only the second of many more to come, Peter wished there wasn't technically an audience for this. That the cameras would give some privacy or just shut down all together as they sat there and he fell quiet. Trying to get himself pulled back together and calm down. That was what Harry needed from him right now, for him to try and stay calm.

As badly as Peter wished he could do more than just that.

The question that Harry countered with wasn't answered quickly either, it wasn't one that should be. It was a good question, a reasonable one and the kind that would scare anyone to think about. Would terrify them and shake them as bad as Harry looked now. Peter was quiet and thought before saying softly, "Then I'm going to get to know him too, as many days as it takes." he paused a moment, "But you should know even if you don't remember it, or realize it, I already see stuff that I've seen are you. That I know and recognize are the same you that you were before this. It's not just remembering things, or knowing some secret right answer to something, it's-..." how did he explain this? How did Peter possibly explain that even with the amnesia he could still see those glimpses of the things he was familiar with and knew. The things that had been from all those years Harry was missing.

He bit his lip, gave the barest hint of a frown, and shifted in his seat, "...why are you staying in there?" it was a question, not an accusation, and Peter waited a moment before going on, gesturing to the door next to him, "You opened that from your side to get the bag, it's not locked. Not on this side not on yours. You could leave here at any second, right? So why are you still in there...why are you choosing to stay in there right now? Because I have a guess what it might be...do you?" not because doctors told him to, or because Norman did. Not to be observed and monitored and have any possible exams done. If Peter had to guess, it was the same reason Harry locked himself away before. He could hurt someone, he didn't want to hurt someone, and staying away from people was the best way to do that right now.

"....that, is you." he pointed over to the mess of papers and notes cluttering the desk, "That, is you, Harry. What you were just doing, just a few seconds ago," the hiding, the careful expressions, and posture, the image to keep others from knowing what was actually going through his head, "All of that, all of that is still you. That's what I mean...those things you know but don't, and maybe they're even driving you crazy that you do but you don't, because who wouldn't get frustrated by that but it's you. And I wish I could...that I could explain that better but I don't..." he wanted to make Harry see what he meant, that those little things really did count and meant something. That they might not feel like anything important but they were something.

Peter watched Harry, through the glass and hating that he was, and turned ideas over in his head. Threw them out, dragged them back, shook them turned upside down for any other scrap of an option. Anything that might try and show what he meant that maybe Harry would believe, "....let me try something?" he asked, "...I'll need you to come closer, and I'll need to open the door, but I'm not coming inside, okay? I promise, I am not going to walk into the room without you saying I can I just....I want to hold your hand. It might sound weird but, I want to try something, and if in even just two or three seconds you want me to move away and shut the door again, then that's what's going to happen. But that's all I want to try, just sit on the floor, and hold your hand, for as long as you'll let me. That's it."

Maybe it would be nothing, but maybe it would be another something.

|| @inhcritance ||

It would have been easier, not knowing. He didn't know if it would have been kinder, he didn't even know what kindness was or what it meant beyond a concept he barely understood these days. Not when he was supposed to have the experience and the knowledge and it was all in shambles, and every time he reached for a piece of the puzzle he got either air or the wrong piece.

Maybe it would have been kinder to accept. To just accept and see how things progressed, because there was being some progress. Some minimal, frustrating progress for someone who had always been proud of his mind. And what a curse it was to remember that, of all things.

But he also remembered enough to read Peter, and he was suddenly, sharply glad that there was the glass between them, because he could see the fear, but if he'd smelled it? Brief as it might be? He didn't know if he'd have been able to keep it together. He wasn't keeping it together now beyond the barest definition of it, anyway.

And yes, maybe he'd locked himself up in the past. And maybe he should have been brought to near-tears by such a declaration, and a part of him was, because he saw it was honest and he didn't think he doubted Peter, not with the rawness of his voice. Not when he wanted to offer at least some support back. Not when a part of him wanted to yield.

But he did not remember that. He thought he could remember a lab. At least two, maybe. And maybe he was as passionate, as caring as Peter was saying. Maybe that was true. But he didn't feel too passionate and too caring while sealed away from the world, with nothing but a lab for trustworthy life experience.

He didn't feel very kind for hurting like this the one person he thought meant the most for him, at that moment.

And yet, he thought, as he lost what grip he had on his composure, first a hand through his hair and then, when he couldn't hold himself in check further, he just rested his face on his hands for a moment and breathed, and tried to keep himself together again.

He'd been good at this, once. He'd been steady despite a propensity for anger and recklessness, because he'd trained himself to be. Or so he thought. And now...

Now he breathed out, the seconds ticking by, and regarded Peter, and wished there was anything but the exhausted sorrow and the fear he knew he couldn't really hide.

"Because I'm me." Harry spoke. Slow, careful, holding himself together and feeling the most human and the most raw. "But what if I'm not me anymore?"

And that, of all things, was what he was the most terrified of.

"What if I can never be that man again?" He breathed out, but looked at Peter straight in the eye again, challenge and plea both. "What if the person I am without all that I've lived turns out to be someone else?"

@localwebslingers