#for a place where I could take it off and have a moment of peace

[sadburntbread]

BATFAM X NEGLECTED! MALE READER - PART TWO -

----- Warnings before you read ----- torture, experimentation, angst, death, use of needles

A soft ringing noise wakes you from your rest, you tried to find the cause of it, however you couldn't find the strength to open your eyes. Slowly, the noise got louder. The ringing caused a pounding in your head that made you desperately want to cover your ears, to try and block out the terrible noise. Then, it faded into a low ringing, not exactly perfect but much better.

It was in that moment of peace that everything came back to you, your family, the fight, your death.

You suddenly felt cold; an unbearable chill ran through your body. You weren't sure if the sudden chill was from the fear of your death or if it was because of the temperature. You wondered if this was how your mother felt when she died. No, you don't want to think about her, knowing how disappointed she would be in you. Your heart started racing as panic began to set in, a single thought repeated over and over again, like a mantra inside your head.

"I don't want to die"

"I don't want to die"

"I DON'T WANT TO DIE"

You needed to calm down and breathe.

Your body felt heavy as if tons of weight were resting on it, everything hurt. everything but your arm... Why couldn't you feel your arm? You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and your breath getting shorter-

Then your breath caught as you realized something, you could feel your heart beating. That had to mean you weren't dead. With this realization you tried even harder to open your eyes, you struggled for a few minutes before you could finally crack them open. You took a few moments to look around the room. The walls and floor were completely concrete with a red door near the foot of the bed you were in, to the right you noticed a small rolling table that seemed to have tools on it, but you weren't able to see from your current position. A soft clack of metal caused your attention to drift to your left hand; you were strapped down by a thick piece of metal. When you tried to lift that arm you noticed that one of the screws were loose, maybe you could unscrew it with your other hand. Your gaze drifted over, and you noticed a large wrap around your stomach, your heart shuddered as you decided to ignore that, escape comes first. As you looked over, all the hope left you. Your arm was gone, cut off just below the shoulder. It was wrapped in some white gauze that was drenched in blood.

A loud creek caused your body to tense, looking over to the cause of the sound, you saw a man holding a clipboard walk in. He wore a long lab coat and had a stethoscope draped around his neck. His dark brown hair just barely reached his shoulders; his eyes had a bored look to them however, as soon as he noticed that you were awake his eyes lit up.

"Good morning!" he walked up to your right side and looked closely at the bandage. "You woke up a bit faster than I thought you would. Very good" After a moment he clicked his tongue at the state of the bandage. The man then walked over to the small table, placed his clipboard down and rolled it over to the bed. Thanks to this you were able to see most the stuff on it. There were multiple tools that looked like something a doctor would use and a few that you couldn't recognize. You opened your mouth to speak, to ask the man where you were. However, as if reading your thoughts he stopped you. "Try not to speak for a few days. Your throat was damaged a bit during the explosion. But you don't need to worry, you are safe here. I will take good care of you". His soft smile did not match the look in his eyes. "Your stomach was in the worst shape, you lost a lot of important internal organs, but I was able to get some...replacements" You wanted to ask the man what he meant but decided to save the questions for later. The man then began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder, his touch was gentle, yet it still caused a sharp pain to shoot through your body. You grunted in discomfort but that only seemed to make your throat ache. The man then shook his head and sighed. "See? what did I tell you about speaking?", You wanted to argue that a grunt wasn't speaking, and it only happened because of him but the lingering pain in your throat caused you to instead just give him a glare. The man simply ignored your glare and instead picked up a fresh roll of gauze and rewrapped your shoulder you had to hold back any sounds in fear of the pain from your throat. He then looked at your throat. "This one was replaced a just a few hours ago, and lucky for you I am almost done with the replacement for your arm". At his words you shot him a surprised look, was this something Bruce paid for? You found it hard to believe given the state of the room you were in.

While you were lost in thought, the man then pulled out a needle and stuck it into the side of your neck, the pain was immediate. You let out a sharp yell which only made it worse. You looked up at the man, he was speaking to you, but you couldn't hear what he said. Your eyes got cloudy before sleep pulled you under.

The next time you woke up you were in a different room, this one was bright, the walls were white and there was a large light positioned overtop of you. The man from before slouched in his chair on your right side. He seemed very focused on what he was doing, he hadn't even noticed that you wake up yet. You steadied yourself and watched the man, making sure not to move any muscle more than necessary. You knew that the best thing to do in this situation was to stay quiet, after all this unknown man held a sharp tool against your skin. He seemed to be attaching the nerves to something metal, an arm you guessed, you couldn't see form this angle.

Your gaze was trained on the man as he worked. You realized that you didn't feel any pain from the operation, you realized that it must've been from whatever drug he injected you with before.

It took a while, but the man finished with a satisfied expression. After checking over his work he looked to you, a look of surprise crossed his face as he noticed you awake.

"Oh my, how long have you been awake?" He asked, as if you could answer him with what he did to your throat. Your glare seemed to speak volumes because he let out a laugh "Don't worry, you can speak now. You have an incredible healing speed. Definitely something to take advantage of" The man seemed to mumble the last part.

"Who are you?" Your voice was rough and scratchy from not using it. How long have you been out?? "Where am I?" You tried to sound threating, however given your current situation, you probably looked no more intimidating than an injured doe.

The man smiled back "I am the one who saved you, my name is Dr. Crane. During the fight between Batman and Joker you were left to die, the building you were placed in blew up. Luckly for you I was grabbing supplies for an experiment nearby and happened to be passing through the wreckage", He watched you carefully as he recounted that day's events, "Unfortunately, there was no saving your right arm. After all, it was hardly attached. Not to even mention the terrible state of your stomach, I was surprised you were even alive, it was then that I knew I had to have you as my patient. However, I had to sever the remaining bit of your arm and drag you with me. Once we were safe and far enough, I stitched you up enough to survive and brought you back to my lab."

You knew you couldn't trust him however knowing your family left you to die shattered your heart. You never thought they would just leave. You realized then that you had never truly mattered to them; you were just a tool. You resigned yourself to the painful truth before asking Dr. Crane another question.

"So, what do you plan to do with me? Kill me? Use me against Batman, I'm sure you figured out his identity because of me". You felt tired. Honestly, at that point you wished you had died, at least then you would've been able to see your mother again, feel her warm arms wrap around you, more comforting than a blanket.

At your question the man let out a laugh. "What I plan to do? It is simple. I plan to make you into my greatest project. No one will stand in your way when I am done." He seemed excited at the mere thought of your future success, "Ah, and about Batman. I honestly could not care less about him; I am a scientist after all, my projects are the most important to me".

You squinted your eyes at him, disbelief coating your features. However, you paused when you saw him reaching for a needle. "What is that for?" You demanded.

"Well, I thought since you keep waking up, we can try a few experiments. you seem healed enough for now". With that he injected the needled into your upper left arm. Pain shot through your body. Red dots danced through your vision; you hollered out in pain. You tried to move away from the pain, how? the pain is everywhere, but you were strapped to the table. Dr. Crane only watched as you withered in pain. You thought you were going to pass out, but you couldn't allow yourself to.

Use him. Use this man's smarts and take revenge on Bruce. For what he did to you. Don't give into the pain. Stay awake!

A voice echoed in your head pulling you from unconsciousness, forcing you awake. Forcing you to suffer through the pain.

Someone- Please it hurts. Please, make it stop! Save me! PLEASE!

Your pleading only seemed to make the voice stronger in your ears, refusing to let you rest. Until finally, the pain subsided into a dull ache across your body. You could feel your own face wet with sweat and tears, your body trembled and twitched. Your eyes were blurry as you tried to focus them on Dr. Crane.

"You managed to stay awake?" the surprise evident in his voice, "Interesting..." Dr. Crane rustled around the table, picking up a small vile and holding it up to your lips, "Let's keep going until you can't anymore. Ok, M/n?" Although he phrased it as a question, you didn't get the luxury to answer before he poured the liquid down your throat. You tried to turn your head, but he squeezed your cheeks with his other hand and forced your mouth open and your head still. You could feel the strange liquid slide down your throat as you tried not to swallow. Eventually you couldn't hold it anymore and had to swallow it down.

Dr. Crane did many experiments that day, you don't remember how many, only the unforgettable, excruciating pain. You lost count of the experiments after around number five.

You learned a new meaning of pain that day.

You don't know how long you were out, but when you woke up again you were in the first room you started out in. You realized you weren't strapped to the bed this time. After gathering the strength to move you got up and looked around the room, for a way out. A Sharp pain emerged from your stomach and arm thanks to the movement. Ignore it, you told yourself, there's more important things to focus on. It was obvious that your only hope was the door. So, you walked to it, using the wall for assistance.

The door was locked, you sighed, of course it was. The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the halls; you hurried back to your bed and just as you sat down, Dr. Crane walked in carrying a tray with food. After noticing you sitting back down, he let out a small huff.

"Now, now. If you're going to be trying to escape, I will have to strap you back down". He sounded like he was scolding a disobedient child. Dr. Crane placed the food down on the table that was now cleared of tools, aside from some gauze. He rolled the table over to you. On the tray was mashed potatoes, some kind of soup, and water. You looked down at the food, unsure. Dr. Crane, noticing your reluctance, picked up the spoon and grabbed some mashed potatoes, he made eye contact with you, then ate the spoonful. "See? Nothing to be afraid of, no poison. We well work on poison resistance another time"

You hesitated before hunger took ahold; you quickly scarfed down the food, as if someone would take it away. Dr. Crane watched as you ate, making sure you finished it all. You chose to ignore the obvious hint of amusement in his eyes.

"How long have I been here?" You asked once you finished eating. Dr. Crane seemed pleased that you spoke with him, he most likely assumed you would hate him. You do; you just need information.

"It has been 9 months and 13 days since I brought you here". He answered, "but, who's counting?"

You hesitated for a moment however you couldn't hold the question back. "And my family, do they know?" Your voice was quiet, as if you didn't want to hear the answer. As you met Dr. Crane's gaze your eyes held an unspeakable plea, one not even you could understand. As if Dr. Crane could read your every thought; he left your question unanswered. You laid down on your side, away from Dr. Crane, as though hiding from the truth. Dr. Crane gathered the empty dishes and left in silence; the soft click of the door rang through the air.

The next day Dr. Crane sat and chatted with you as you ate. When you finished eating, he grabbed the tray and pulled a newspaper out of his pocket and set it down on the small table. Once he left the room you cautiously picked it up. After reading the headline you felt your heart drop in sadness? fear? anger? you couldn't say for sure.

"BRUCE WAYNE REFUSES TO SPEAK AT M/N WAYNE FUNERAL"

Your fingers traced the words, then drifted to the article. Your funeral was court and simple, much like your mother's. Her voice soft in your ear as you read.

See? they never cared about you. Take revenge on them. Don't forget all those years of neglect.

The voice was all around you, there was no escape from it. It demanded revenge, you began wanting it to.

Days turned into months, then years. Every day was similar; Dr. Crane would do experiments; he'd keep testing new things until you passed out. After the experiments He would bring you food, during these times he'd always sit and talk with you, it would be about anything that came to mind, you began to feel a type of connection with him. You almost felt like he was your friend, or maybe like the big bother you always wished you had. You resigned yourself to this fate, vowing to one day get the revenge that voice promised you.

After the first couple months Dr. Crane started putting his experiments to the test. He'd take you to what he called the 'training room'. It was a white padded room with vents in all corners. There you would train in strength, agility, resistance and even testing your smarts. The worst experiment that would happen in this room was when he would release a poisonous gas, you were told to bear with it, and you did, past limits you once thought you had.

Other times he put the room to a terrible cold temperature, leaving you with nothing more than your boxers. Even as frost bite gnawed at your bare body, you gritted your teeth and refused to give into the pain.

Everyday Dr. Crane would try injecting you with something new he invented. Sometimes the drug would fail, and he would have to rework it until he deemed it a success, then after that he would take you to the training room to test it.

It was a miserable experience. However, it allowed the betrayal and hatred to build over the years you were there.

You were strong, stronger than ever before. You had him to thank for it, and you knew it. So, you resolved to give him a painless death. You had been planning your escape for years and finally you could leave and extract your revenge. As you looked down to Dr. Crane's smiling face, you knew you did what you had to do. However, you could not stop the silent tears that fell down your face. In one way or another, this man had become someone you learned to care for.

"Wonderful..." Dr. Crane's voice was shaky, he coughed up some blood. So much for a painless death. "No, don't cry over this. You are my greatest success; through your actions I will live on". His voice faded as the fire you caused wrapped around the two of you. However, His eyes remained open, so you leaned down and closed them as a final gesture of gratitude, then you left. You walked through the fire that consumed the lab, the building crumbled around you. The scene almost beautiful in a way, your white pajama pants slightly charred at the ends, you didn't even flinch as your bare feet stepped on the burning embers.

Thanks to Dr. Crane you have truly become a monster, driven only by the need for revenge.

TO BE CONTINUED

Tags @mallowryblog @blover143 @venomsvl @sunnyfield

[lost-st4rs]

Posting this here as well in case any of you don’t have an ao3 account :) NOT BETA READ BTW so try to ignore any mistakes I might’ve missed!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64942672

Bendystraw Debt Collector AU

~4,608 words

Cuphead jumps forward, rolling low to the sleek wooden ground of the stage, then ducks as a thin razor-sharp blade swooshes above his head, slightly grazing his straw. He jumps up onto a floating cloud platform just as his opponent — a nutcracker — charges forward with a thin sword.

He is so close this time to actually getting their contract. This nutcracker isn’t even the main boss, he’s just one of the goons of the actual debtor, which is an annoying porcelain ballerina. Cuphead rolls his eyes at the thought of her. But he can’t take his focus off of the fight right now, not when he’s so close to the last phase. Cuphead fires at the nutcracker, ever slowly chipping away at his sturdy wood.

Just as the nutcracker falls to the ground in defeat, strings come down from the roof and attach and tie themselves onto Cuphead’s arms tightly. The red cup groans in discomfort. This is the part he’s having trouble with… These strings limit his movement and sometimes he isn’t even in control, letting the ballerina get a few good hits in.

“OHOHOHOHOHO!” Cuphead grimaces as a shiny porcelain ballerina gracefully descends from above the roof, a devilish smile adorning her sleek white face. She lands on the floor but doesn’t give the cup teen a moment to prepare for her attack. Here we go again…

…

Cuphead tsks painfully while dabbing a damp cloth on his bruised arm. Rina really didn’t hold back this time around… He hates that ballerina so much. He’ll try to get her contact some other time, he can’t handle her cruel taunting today, or ever. Cuphead finishes up by wrapping a bandage around his already severely cracked arm. That’ll hold the pieces together until they fully heal.

Cuphead stands to his feet from the log he was sitting on and treks into the forest. This is one of the more peaceful areas on this island, where Cuphead could finally catch a break and bandage up from a fight. He’d been going at it all day ever since he got here two days ago. Cuphead reaches into his pants pocket, pulling out two slightly torn contracts. So far though, he’s been unsuccessful in collecting these new debtors' contracts, only racking up two out of the twenty-eight he needs to collect before the month ends.

The teen puts the contracts back into his pocket and kicks a rock on the small dirt trail while grumbling frustrated to himself.

The Devil might’ve warned the debtors that he was coming. That bastard. Oh well. He’ll defeat them all the same, just like he did a few years ago back in Inkwell Isles.

Cuphead grimaces at the mention of his home, stopping in his tracks momentarily. He shoves his hands into his pockets and continues on the dirt trail, glaring at the ground.

The trees and bushes open up into a clearing where a little village is. This is where Cuphead would stock up on supplies and get some well deserved sleep occasionally (if he had any money to spare for a night at the motel). Cuphead approaches the quaint village, walking straight to Porkrind’s Emporium. Seriously though, Cuphead thinks to himself, it’s like this guy’s shop is everywhere. How does he do it?

“Damn, ya look like shit, Cup.” Cuphead shoots the pig a glare, but the older isn’t at all intimidated by the teen. “Healing potions again?” Cuphead nods. “Yer’ quiet today, bad fight?” The pig turns his back to grab two healing potions, he then turns back to the counter and places them on it, opening his hand for the coins. Cuphead doesn't give Porkrind an answer as he hands the pig four gold coins. The red cup gives the older a nod before promptly leaving. “Tch, teenagers.”

It’s not like he hates Porkrind, it’s just that it’s none of his business. Also, since when did that guy care? Cuphead scoffs to himself.

Since he just purchased two healing potions for the price of four coins, Cuphead can’t exactly afford a room at the motel. Dammit… But surviving is better than comfortability so he definitely made the right decision. But, if only he had Mugm-… No, actually, he’d rather not finish that thought. He can handle himself. He doesn’t need someone else to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Not anymore. He’s sixteen now and that means he’s mature and serious.

But anyway, the game plan for finding a place to sleep — he has no idea. Actually, he does have one but it doesn’t sound too fun… Cuphead thinks back on to last night when he camped out in the forest. He’d been abruptly woken up to bugs in his head, crawling in there for a midnight drink. Eugh… He shivers just thinking of it. But does he really have a choice? Cuphead sighs, but just as he’s about to go back into the forest…

“Hey, you brat, if ya needed a place to stay ya could’a just asked.” Cuphead turns to see Porkrind leaning at the door of his shop with his arms crossed. The teen thinks to himself for a moment, thinking it over. “Get over here before I change my mind.” Cuphead quickly nods and rushes to the shop, following the pig inside. “I’ve got some sleeping bags in the back, don’t get ‘em dirty.” The teen nods and heads toward the back of the shop.

“… Thanks, Porkrind.” Cuphead disappears into the back of the shop before the older can grumble out a ‘you’re welcome’.

Cuphead takes out a sleeping bag and lays it down onto the floorboards. It is surprisingly cushiony, which is a plus. The teen lets out a small grin, sliding in the sleeping bag he closes his eyes and rests his head against the soft pillow. Maybe Porkrind does care after all. The red cup drifts off to sleep fairly quickly, giving into exhaustion from today’s battles.

—

Cuphead is up and early in the morning, he doesn’t wanna burden Porkrind any further than he already has so he leaves before the pig notices and goes on to battle the next debtor.

Cuphead stops at the gate of a big mansion, looking down at his map to make sure that this was the right place. He looks back up and stuffs the map into his pocket then enters.

…

Surprisingly, that fight with the spooky ghosts was easier than Cuphead had originally anticipated. It was just like when he freed Ms. Chalice at the Mausoleums all those years back, he just had to perry them. And now he’s got three contracts! Not bad.

Cuphead travels to the next one, which is a four group of hedgehog thieves. Eh, ‘should be easy ‘nuff.

… Is what an IDIOT would think.

Cuphead plucks out a big quill from his hip, his eyes watering as he did so. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve and heaves in a breath to prepare himself to pluck out another quill from his arm. Thankfully, he found most of the pieces from his porcelain, so these wounds will heal in no time.

Those hedgehogs do not go down easily…

He was so close to defeating them, though! Once he heals up he’ll get right back into battle and get those damn hedgehog’s contracts. It’s personal now. Cuphead downs his healing potion, his wounds instantly healing up and his body feeling like brand new. The teen stands up and walks back into the den in the ground.

“Hey, guys! The little teacup wants some more of our fury!” The blue hedgehog says and the others laugh along with him. Cuphead’s eye twitches at the stupid nickname.

“Let’s show him that we won’t go down so easy!” The pink one adds.

“C’mon, fight us!” The white one says after her.

“I hate you guys.” The black one says.

They all corner Cuphead, quills in hand. But this time Cuphead knows their dirty tricks and goes for the white hedgehog, tackling him to the ground harshly. The pink hedgehog immediately goes to help but Cuphead uses the white one as a shield.

“H-Hey! Let me go! That’s no fair!” Cuphead smirks and throws him at the pink hedgehog. Knocking them both out cold on impact.

The blue hedgehog charges at Cuphead while rolled up in a ball, knocking Cuphead into the wall. But he knows better than to sit around for too long. Cuphead ducks down when he sees the black one charge at him with a quill like a sword, but the quill gets stuck in the wall. Cuphead kicks the black one in the stomach as hard as he can while they’re distracted and they fall to their knees clutching their stomach tightly. Cuphead grabs him by the scuff and twirls around and around and around, picking up speed like a mini tornado he throws the black hedgehog to the pile with the white and pink hedgehogs.

Cuphead huffs, trying to catch his breath before finishing off the leader of their small group, said leader is the blue hedgehog that is currently cowering in fear before the red cup. Cuphead heaves in a few ragged breaths then goes into a fighting stance, his eyes filled with determination.

“You-!!” The blue hedgehog charges at Cuphead with his special move that he calls a ‘spin dash’ but Cuphead stays in place and catches the speedy blue spiked ball heading his way. It burns, it hurts, but this is the only way to defeat this last one. Cuphead groans, the dash pushing him back but he stays grounded, digging his feet in the soil he pushes back. Push back. Cuphead‘s hands start to bleed through the yellow fabric of his gloves. Don’t stop. His knees feel weak. But he’s stronger. Cuphead tightens his grip on the spiked ball and he pushes it down into the soil. It digs into the ground and when the hedgehog stops spinning, he’s stuck.

Why isn’t Cuphead shooting at them? Oh, well, he learned the hard way that his gun doesn’t work on them because of their armour (quills), so now he’s resorted to dirty tricks.

Cuphead backs away and stares at his bloody hands. He just sucks in a sharp breath and gulps. He lets his hand out in front of the hedgehog stuck in the dirt. The blue one just growls, but he knows he’s lost this fight so he just gives in.

“Just take them!” Cuphead smirks and reaches into the hedgehog’s quills carefully so as to not scratch up his hands even more than they already are. He takes the contract and stuffs it into his pants pocket.

“This teacup-“ Cuphead huffs, “can fight like a *%#$@“ He huffs again, “jerk.” Cuphead walks away, leaving the blue hedgehog in the ground as payback for calling him a teacup and ruining his hands.

—

“Geez, kid. Ya’ really ruined yer’ damn hands fer’ a couple of petty thieves?” Cuphead glares at Porkrind as he finishes drinking a healing potion.

“They had contracts. They weren’t just any petty thieves.”

“Still, they should’a been nothin’ to ya’ with those weird powers of yers.” Porkrind crosses his arms, giving what Cuphead would only recognize as a look of disappointment mixed with worry. Cuphead waved him off.

“Eh, I ain’t too worried ‘bout it. ‘Sides, it didn’t even work on ‘em. Their stupid dumb quills protected ‘em from the blasts.” Cuphead grumbled as he bandaged up his hands.

“You really have no self preservation…”

“It keeps me alive.” Cuphead says and Porkrind’s face contorts into one of worry. Cuphead rolls his eyes, tightening the bandages on his palms to keep himself distracted from the older man’s concerned look in his eyes.

“It’ll be the thing to get you dead.” Cuphead pauses and he looks up, but the pig has his back turned, washing some bottles in a bucket. Cuphead looks off to the side. No, it won’t, Cuphead thinks to himself and his brows furrow. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “Well, get goin’ to another debtor.” Porkrind sighs, “I’ve got healin’ potions galore fer’ you here when ya get back.” Cuphead nods even though the other can’t see him and he hops off of the bar stool and exits the tiny shop.

It went on like that for the whole day and then the days after that. Cuphead collecting more contracts one by one. Some of the bosses were more difficult than others, and then the next is easier than the rest. He’s still having trouble with Rina Balleta… She plays dirty, okay? More so than Cuphead himself when he’s in a tough spot.

But he’s been able to successfully rack up a total of seven whole contracts in that time! He’s going to clear this island’s debtors in no time. And then he’ll finally be able to fix everything.

However… there’s one thing that just wasn’t adding up… Some of the debtors he didn’t even beat up were already defeated. Which was… odd. To say the least. Cuphead is supposed to be the only debt collector here from what he knows. Did the Devil send out another? Why would he do that when he knows Cuphead needs all twenty-eight to get his end of their deal?

It’s almost the end of the day, and the sun is already starting to set. Every debtor he comes across has already been defeated. This crab better not have gotten a visit from that damn demon.

Cuphead walks up to a defeated gigantic crab stuck on his side in the sand with his little crab goons laying down beside him. Cuphead clenches his fist tightly, his cup fuming until he finally bursts into a rageful fit of anger. He kicks a seashell into the ocean then picks up a tiny crab and throws it into the water as well. But then immediately regretting it because that poor crab didn’t deserve that. He slumps down to the sand with his elbows on his knees and his hand cupping his face.

“Are you angry that you didn’t get my contract first?” Cuphead doesn’t answer, he just stays glaring at the sand with his head steaming. “That demon boy took it if you’re wondering. We debtors hadn’t anticipated another debt collector coming to help you.” Cuphead snapped his head up at that.

“Help me? No, it’s the opposite! I need all those contracts! All twenty-eight! And he’s stealing them!” Cuphead stands up while shouting at the gigantic crab. But the crab doesn’t react which only makes Cuphead fume even more. “Say something!” The crab just stares at the teen silently. Cuphead grits his teeth and he just gives up and starts walking away from the crab.

“You’d better be careful when facing that demon, he’s a sneaky one.” Cuphead continues to walk away without as much as a second glance at the giant creature.

He’ll keep searching, even if it’s the last thing he’ll do. Porkrind won’t be too happy that Cuphead is going yet another night without rest, but that pig isn’t his dad. Cuphead doesn’t have anyone, he can do what he wants.

—

Cuphead approaches a flower field where The Tulip Trio was supposed to be, but there they lay on the grass, defeated, heaving and huffing with their petals scorched and burned. Hm. The teen approaches the flowers to which they flinch and cower beneath him when they see the angry scowl on his face upon seeing them.

“We don’t have it!”

“Yeah! We really don’t!”

“The other guy already took it!”

Cuphead furrows his brows. “The other guy?” He asks, stomping on one of the triplet’s leaves and they shriek under his intimidating glare.

“The demon boy!”

“The one who fights with blue flames!”

“The Ink Demon!”

Cuphead lifts his foot off of their leaf, the beaten tulips sighing in relief when he does so. The Ink Demon… Cuphead puts a hand to his mouth as he thinks to himself. He doesn’t know if he wants to face this guy who’s stealing his contracts. No matter how mad he may be. He doesn’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to demons.

“Thank you.” He says finally then he departs into the forest from where he came from.

“You’re most welcome!”

“You’d better show that no-good demon what’s what!”

“You have to! Oh, you just have to!”

Cuphead rolls his eyes. They don’t have to tell him twice. He’ll find that bastard stealing his contracts.

But, for right now, he so desperately needs to rest. Walking all day around the whole island without sleeping for days is really taking its toll on his body, and he’s not sure about how long he can stay awake. The cup walks through the forest, fighting to stay awake, his eyes fluttering close every second or so but he wills them to stay open for a little longer.

Ah, hell. Whatever. He’ll just take a nap right here. No one is around. Cuphead lowers his body down to the lush grass and rests his back against a tree, his legs finally giving out to exhaustion. The teen lets out a laboured sigh and his shoulders release their tension. A little nap wouldn’t hurt… Just for… for… a few… minutes… Cuphead’s eyes flutter close and in a second he’s off in dreamland.

—

A demon with a sharp tail and horns emerges from some thick bushes, stepping over them carefully. He looks back from where he had come from and his expression sours. He looks down at the contract in his hand and his gaze softens. The demon clenches the contract tightly in his fist, stuffing it into his vest and going on his merry way, probably to deal with another debtor.

Another one down, only a dozen many more to go. He'd honestly lost count at this point.

It was strange though, some of the debtors had already been dealt with. No one but him should be the only contract collector on this island. The demon hummed in thought. Or perhaps someone else — another debt collector like him — was here unbeknownst to him.

As the demon walked along, he observes the lavish green forestry all around him. Tree’s shading him from the warm sun rays from above, it's comforting light seeping through the tree’s leaves. The grass and moss like a soft carpet with each step he took. It’s peaceful, calming. Quiet with the exception of the birds chirping and regular forest noises. This type of scenery never gets old.

The demon passes by a thick tree, looking to his left, he sees someone laying down beside a tree. He keeps walking- WAIT… He stops dead in his tracks. Then he slowly walks backwards to take another look. The demon hides himself behind the thick tree and peeks an eye out, his tail swishing lightly behind him with keen interest.

A cup boy who looks to be about his age is sitting down leaning his back against a tree while resting peacefully. He looks… exhausted. And pretty beaten up, If his rugged clothes and bruised up face were anything to go by. They’re stained with mud and grum, tethered with small rips and holes in his baggy black sweater and red shorts.

The demon cocks his head to the side, curious of this strange yet intriguing cup boy. Their guard is down, and they could easily get jumped by a debtor in the area if he wasn’t careful.

The demon emerges from his hiding spot and quietly approaches the cup, being careful at watching where he steps. He kneels down to take a closer look at him.

Now that was a view to behold, he thought to himself. The boy was pretty attractive, one might even say cute or handsome. The demon watches their steady breathing, chest rising up and down in a slow and steady motion. Now taking a closer look he can see visible dark circles under the other’s eyes.

Is he staring too much and for too long?

…

This is probably really weird to see in an outsider perspective.

But the demon can’t really find it in himself to care.

The boy grumbles, furrowing his eyebrows, he yawns, putting a hand to his mouth and slowly blinking as he stirs awake.

Oh no, this isn’t good.

He could run away right now… but this boy has piqued his interest in a way no one has before in a long while. So, he decides to stay still as the other wakes up. The red cup rubbs the tiredness from his eyes and sits up straight, then he freezes, tensing right up as soon as he sees the demon in front of him and waaay too close for comfort. The demon grinned.

“Mornin’.” The boy backs up into the tree as if the other was going to attack him. Ah, it’s because he’s a demon, right? Made sense, that’s usually the response the demon got whenever someone saw him. Or that reaction was because he is uncomfortably close. That too. Perchance.

The boy stays completely still, not daring to move even an inch. He shifts a bit and the demon notices some familiar looking yellowed paper peeking out from their pants pockets. Contracts. Ohh… It’s all so clear now. This is that Cuphead kid The Devil warned the demon about before he arrived on this island.

“Wh-who’re you?” Cuphead aimed his finger like a gun at the demon. A vibrant blue energy radiating from his fingertip. The demon’s pie-cut eyes widen a bit at that. Things just got even more interesting! The demon grins widely and the red cup glares at him.

“Ya’ don’t know me? Now, that’s interestin’. I’m pretty well known ‘round these parts.” The demon responded casually, resting his hand against the side of his face, taking no mind at the gun currently being pointed at his face.

“Answer the question.” The other teen’s serious gaze sharpens and the blue glow from his fingertip shines even brighter, the raw energy crackling quietly almost like thunder. Fascinating!

“Now, now. Don’t get so feisty, sunshine. I'll tell ya, alright? I’m Bendy. The Ink Demon as some like to call me.” The demon toon offered his hand out for a handshake, Cuphead tenses up, staying in place like a statue. “Tough crowd, huh?” Bendy retracts his hand back.

Then, Cuphead’s eyes widens at the title ‘The Ink Demon’. This is the guy who’s been stealing his contracts! The one who the tulips and crab were talking about! But suddenly any emotion is quickly swept away from his face as he processes what the demon had just called him.

“…Sunshine??” Cuphead gives the intruder a puzzled look, and if you really looked close enough, you could see that he is slightly blushing. Aw, how cute, Bendy thinks to himself, grinning.

Bendy hums. “Yep! ‘Cause yer just an absolute ray of sunshine.” Cuphead gives a ‘really?’ look at the other. However, the demon’s grin just gets wider at that. This is more entertaining than it probably should be. Bendy giggles and Cuphead seems like he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the teasing joke.

“Why are you… here?? No, wait, lemme rephrase that. Why were you watchin’ me sleep?” Bendy stands up to his feet and Cuphead tenses up again, the energy from his finger going ablaze once more.

“Relax, toots. I’m not gonna hurt cha’.” Cuphead doesn’t ease up. He doesn’t trust him. “I only needed this. Nothing more, nothing less.” Bendy lifts his hand with a contract in hand. Cuphead stares for a second confused, then his face contorts into one of shock and he frantically searches his pockets. Empty… He looks back up and basically gives the demon toon a death glare.

“If looks could kill, haha!” Bendy jokes playfully. Cuphead stays silent.

“Give that back.” He cautiously stands up, still aiming his finger at the offending demon. Bendy puts his hands up, but doesn’t look at all threatened by the other teen.

“I don’t think I will, thank you.” He puts the contract in his vest pocket and melts into a puddle of ink into the forest floor. Cuphead stands there while staring bewildered at the ink puddle before him.

“Over here!” Cuphead snaps his head around, spotting the ink demon sitting on a branch from the tree he was resting against earlier. His gaze hardens and he fires at the demon, but the toon sinks into a puddle of ink again. Cuphead tsks, whipping his head around to try to figure out the other’s next move. He feels a tap on his shoulder from behind and spins around to see Bendy way too uncomfortably close for his liking. Again. Seriously what is with this guy?! Cuphead’s face grows warm which illicits Bendy to bark out a laugh at that.

“Just wanted ta’ say goodbye before I go! It was nice meeting ya, Cuphead. I’m sure we’ll be seein’ each other again very soon.” Bendy gently takes hold of the red cup’s hand and kisses it. That did it for the hotheaded cup and now his head is boiling over with little bubbles dripping down his head, too flustered to even utter a word as he stares at the ink demon baffled. Bendy just grins a big toothy smile then sinks into the ground for the last time. Disappearing in a second.

Cuphead stands there completely still. His head dizzy and swirling by how hot it was now.

The red cup holds the hand Bendy kissed with his other hand and stares at it. His face getting redder and redder by the second as he replays the scene in his head over and over again. He glares at his hand and huffs. Stupid emotions… They made him lose a damn contract! Ugh, this is so stupid…

Cuphead shakes his head, trying to cool it off and trying to also push away any embarrassing thought that invades his brain. He wasn’t thinking straight. Okay, he’s definitely going to kill that guy. He doesn’t care if that douchbag isn’t on the list, when Cups gets his hands on him…

Cuphead grumbles, checking the contracts to see which one that damn ink demon had stolen from him.

“That debtor isn’t even a top grade… So why…?” He stands there puzzled. Cuphead could only wonder what that strange demon’s motives are.

Yeah, he’s definitely not sleeping outside again. He’s learned his lesson.

—

“Ya look a li’l out of it, Cup. What’s wrong?” Porkrind asks as he cleans a glass beer cup with a rag. Cuphead blinks and looks up at the pig when he’s taken out of his troubling thoughts. The pig raises an eyebrow as if asking his question again. Cuphead’s mind wanders to the… encounter.. he had with a certain demon a few hours ago. His face flushes a bright red and he swivels the bar stool around to hide his blushing face.

“N-nothing. It’s none of yer’ business.” Cuphead folds his arms across his chest. Porkrind gives the cup a skeptical look, but he doesn’t press the issue any further. He then mutters something under his breath about teenagers and how they’re complicated and then walks to the back of the shop.

…

Bendy walks towards the three tulips, his face emotionless and unmoving, so very different from his usual whimsical and teasing personality. He harshly stomps on one of the triplet’s petals and they shriek in pain and begin to cry.

“So…” He starts, a grin growing on his face as he glares down at the flowers, “Tell me more about this ‘Cuphead’ guy.”

( A/N: Ty if you stayed around to read my little fic! :3 I’ve got a bunch planned for this so stay tuned for more >:] )

[h1biscusgal]

The little shifters Neighborhood.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

what is the shifters small neighborhood?: a place between your worlds, where you can stop there and reside in a comfortable waiting world with other shifters, where you can interact with them, be your own person, and find out newer things!

P.S// i decided to take one of the zones off, there wasn't much to do with it, so Thirteen is out of the way :)

the layout/ map:

now, there 5 zones in this world, and one main one that is the center of the neighborhood, the heart of this place, where every shifter can meet, have our fairs and ceremonies, help each other and such, the center is called "The shifters main."

now, the 5 zones are divided by each of their own aesthetic and world, buckle up traveler, we will have a very long journey explaining each and how it is.

ZONE ONE : THE EVERDAWN VALLEY

"where time moves like honey."

an enchanted valley near the forest where fairies and animals roam, the comfort of it's life and the quiet nights to dance under the stars, rivers and pretty rains and meadow fields that shine under the sun.

the features of this place:

The Golden hours: a time where the dawn comes by is the most magical part of the day, grasses shimmer, fairies sing, just when the beautiful sun rises down with it's rays, a moment of pure peace.

The East River: a river that flows with the purest cold water, a perfect place for a gentle way of sinking your feet in, or just to sit by and watch it stream.

The talking animals: the furry friends there can talk! they are local and love to roam the place, sometimes could advise you and are really sweet, leading you to the right path if you are ever lost.

The Fairies: small little helpers that love to harvest flowers for their homes and uses, they love to talk, and certainly listen well.

The deepest and most comfortable sleep: want to actually sleep so good for once? in here we have sleeping cottages especially for those who don't reside there, but would like a deep sleep.

The local valley market: a market abundant with every nature's best fruits and foods, crafted at it's place and is open whenever you need.

The Memory Field: a field with endless flowers, each picked flower will show you a memory from your DR that you want to see.

The valley's tea party: a garden where we can meet up and have sweets and tea while we chat about our DRs, and who there would like to be the owner of the Valley's tea party?

ZONE TWO : THE NULL

"where future meets itself."

a cyber futuristic place, where technology is at it's prime, here you can do your favorite activities ranging from any sport, or to simply access whatever you want.

the features of this place:

The static room: a room where you can sit and see every part of your journey through a tv and a remote control in your hand.

The athlete instructors: we got cybernetic people here that are especially trained to help you with your desired activity, train here and work out if you like, the neon zaplines and games.

The Gaming Arcade: a full on arcade for people to meet up here, food served and gossips and prizes.

The downtown city streets: the best part during late night food and memory markets here, stroll through the exciting city where locals welcome you with the best food known to land while the vehicles swarm over your head.

Neon therapies: a place where you can talk to your assigned therapist, to pour your heart out for nothing and helped through any trauma or damage you have accidentally brought back from any DR.

The Folder: a place where you save every script of any of your DRs, can be accessed and changed anytime, and don't worry, it is safe and locked by your own password protected by the highest security.

The Cyber Hotels: where your room will be here if you are not a resident in this zone and don't have a house and just want to visit.

Borrow center: You can "borrow" powers and any ideas for you scripts here, it is the best place to get infinite ideas without AI.

ZONE THREE : THE LUMINAL LAGOON

"where the watershore meets the sunny sand."

a sunny and happy lagoon, clear water by the ocean and mermaids to talk with, hibiscuses on the sand where you can pick them up and weave them into a crown, ask the sirens their stories and they'll say so, run in the water and back.

the features of this place:

The water has a mind on it's own: the ocean water is like your friend, it honestly looks like what it is in Moana, y'know? the calm cold foam of the water, never to drown in, it will float you up when you swim, and bonus, you can breathe underwater and see under the sea with the fishes, and another fun fact! ask the oceans questions and it gives you answers.

The Seashell shore: a shore with tons of pretty seashells, you can ask the mermaids there to make you a necklace! they'll do so while telling their tales.

Luminal's Sunset: famous for it's way of the sun setting, the orange hue over the water, the ocean calming, the people in a comfortable haze, and a way to rewind.

The mermaids and mermens and the sirens: creatures of the water, charming people of the ocean, they can lead you to play underwater, they can help around, and consider the mermaids to be as your own best friend, they love to gossip and braid your hair, while the sirens love to come up at night.

The night Bonfires: every once a week we will hold a safe bonfire in the beach and invite everyone, having a good time and of course, each of their dances, a place to reconnect with the shifters.

Palm-shaded hammocks: need to sleep cozily? or just need somewhere to sit and watch the beach? these hammocks in the palm trees are your best friends, coconut juice topped with pink umbrellas, seagulls flying, enjoy and lay back.

The boats: want a row? we have boats and cruise ships there for parties on the ocean, safe and calm every once a while.

Late night stargazing: lay back in the sand when the night comes and watch the stars and galaxies while we can talk and help each other through our lives, tell each other who we really are and what we really do.

ZONE FOUR : THE SKYFALL ISLANDS.

"where the rocks float in the sky."

a cozy place where islands are on the clouds, streams and water fall from there to the ocean in the Luminal Lagoon, you have birds and flying friends there, a place where Sakura flowers waft every day there, gently falling over by the soft wind.

the features of this place:

The April Lane: a lane full of the cherry blossom trees and it's petals flowing, each cherry blossom has it's meaning and their words are written on their tree bark for you to read.

The hot air balloons: if you're worried how to go up and get down, there are hot air balloons to do so! simply step in and step out whenever and it'll automatically get you there.

automatic Lesser Gravitation: you'll glide instead of jump to get to other islands easily, no need to fear falling!

Weather controllers: tap the clouds for rain and snow whenever needed! it is something you can easily do so, just jump on it, you can also travel on the skies with the fluffy edible clouds. (EDIBLE- YOU HEARD?)

The Nimbus spa: best self care in the whole shifters neighborhood, need something to relax back? let yourself be treated for once.

Cloud parties: parties on cloud! where sweets and games like tag and anything close can be played there.

Tea shops and japanese-inspired stores: want a feeling of bliss and happiness? go through here and walk the quiet stores, locals waving cheerily at you and their crafts to amaze you, this is the best market for self crafts and furniture or anything remotely close for your cozy home.

The Cloud-Whisperer: a cloud child which once you pay him a slice of strawberry shortcake, he'll tell you how each person from your desired reality currently feels about you.

ZONE FIVE : THE CORNER

"where chipped statues lay."

a comfort zone where the high minds lay, libraries and coffee shops, central schools of shifting and so much more, great minds here can study, write their DR scripts comfortably and use their minds to study quantum physics.

The ARS: best at their subject of shifting in this learning academy, called the ARS, which is short for the Academy of Reality Shifters, a place where your curious mind can rest and learn at the hands of the best professors and teachers.

Inkwell Coffee shop and endless study places: need somewhere to sit back really? the coffee shops are all quiet, comforting and all there is here is a gentle sound of pitter pattering of rain or something else, you can study for your CR exams here, even your DR exams, or just grab a book from the library and study.

The Endless Library: a spiral library on the street, where every book imaginable on anything is possible, find more realities, you can ask the librarian (anyone who volunteers) there to give you a book based on any word you choose, the books never rip, never tear, and is always in mint condition and can't ever be lost.

Cat corners: a corner where you can literally talk to cats- because why not? pet them, watch them roam the street with you, and they'll show you secrets of this place.

Haunted Lane: a special lane for the haunted people, vampires, and "monsters" alike who are not really monster, but old souls bound here to teach and help around, (no the vamps won't drink your blood dw-)

Late night stroll through the quiet roads: need peace and quiet? this place is the best for thinkers, whenever you want, the place can heighten your intelligence and memory.

The Seer: a wise old woman, ask her anything and she shall give you your answer you need, any question can be answered by her in her large old house.

The DR mirrors: need to see your DR now and what is happening in it? peer through those mirrors that are everywhere in the cafes.

ZONE ZERO : THE SHIFTERS MAIN

the place where everyone meets! has a train there that can take you to your desired reality, fairs and night parties are held there, talks and everything is in here.

so the zones are done! now here comes the rules with it (applies to first person and the person enrolled in this place):

No Homophobia

No Transphobia

No Racism

No Ableism

No Xenophobia

No Fatphobia / Body Shaming

No Sexism / Misogyny

No Ageism

No Classism

No Religious Discrimination

Trauma-aware space — no unsolicited triggering content

No hate speech, slurs, or microaggressions

Respect others’ pronouns and identities

You don’t have to share or explain your experiences

It’s okay to lurk, rest, or just vibe silently

All realities are valid — no reality policing

No “real shifter” gatekeeping

Shifting methods are personal — no judgment

No pressuring others to shift a certain way

Celebrate each other’s progress, even the small wins

No one in this space has bad intentions toward me or anyone else.

Only beings with safe, kind, or neutral energy can exist here.

This space is protected from negative entities, thoughts, and energies.

No one can manipulate, influence, or harm others here in any way.

Everyone here respects each other's energy, boundaries, and privacy.

There is no jealousy, envy, or comparison between shifters.

There is no time pressure — we all shift in our own rhythm.

This space is immune to intrusive thoughts or limiting beliefs.

Any harmful intent dissolves before entering this space.

No one can access this space unless they are aligned with peace, safety, and love.

Everyone here operates from consent, respect, and compassion.

I am always in full control of my presence here and can leave at any time.

This space is energetically clean, balanced, and constantly self-cleansing.

There is no judgment, only understanding and support.

This room exists outside of fear, doubt, and harm.

Time moves in a way that supports rest, healing, and clarity.

Everyone here is conscious of their energy and keeps it peaceful.

No one can read my mind, shift my energy, or access my DRs unless I allow it.

The waiting room adapts to my needs and comfort automatically.

I am always protected, grounded, and loved here.

No one can physically harm or touch me without consent.

I cannot be injured, weakened, or made sick in this space.

There are no physical discomforts — the temperature, lighting, and atmosphere adjust to my needs.

This space is immune to illness, fatigue, and pain.

No weapons or violent tools are permitted in this space.

My body is always well, safe, and comfortable here.

Gravity, air, sound, and all physical laws operate in a way that supports my peace.

The environment cannot collapse, change unexpectedly, or glitch in a way that harms me.

I cannot be restrained, trapped, or followed against my will.

No one can read my mind, thoughts, or memories unless I allow it.

Intrusive thoughts dissolve before entering this space.

I am protected from gaslighting, manipulation, or influence of any kind.

My mental clarity is heightened here — I feel focused and calm.

I do not absorb the emotions, energies, or traumas of others.

This space blocks all fear-based programming, negativity, and self-doubt.

There is no judgment or shaming of thoughts, feelings, or experiences.

I am allowed to rest, cry, laugh, breathe — all emotional states are welcome and held.

My personal boundaries are understood intuitively and always honored.

No low-frequency or parasitic entities can enter.

I am surrounded by protective energy that cannot be breached.

Only energies that match my frequency or higher can connect with me.

My aura is shielded, cleansed, and intact at all times.

Cord-cutting happens naturally — I release all energy that isn’t mine.

The room itself is conscious, kind, and devoted to peace.

I cannot be cursed, hexed, or psychically attacked from this space.

Any lingering energy that is not mine is transmuted into light before reaching me.

This space enhances my intuition, clarity, and spiritual alignment.

The air is fresh and exactly the way I like it.

The lighting is soft, adjustable, and never harsh.

Sound levels are peaceful — no loud or jarring noises exist.

There are infinite safe spots: cozy corners, nature rooms, healing pods, etc.

I can summon objects or elements that bring me comfort instantly.

No one can enter my personal space bubble unless I invite them.

The energy of the room naturally heals and calms all who enter.

My body is always safe, comfortable, and free from pain or tension here.

No unwanted sensations, dysphoria, or discomfort exist in this space.

I can adjust my bodily form at will — appearance, gender, energy, etc.

I feel deeply safe in my body and with my body here.

There are no bodily triggers or trauma responses in this space.

My bodily boundaries are felt and honored even without words.

This space is perfectly clean, sterile, and self-cleansing at all times.

All surfaces, air, and materials are free from bacteria, viruses, or harmful substances.

No one carries germs, dirt, or illness into this space.

My body and clothes are always clean, fresh, and comfortable here.

There is no body odor, sweat, or discomfort unless I consciously allow it.

I always feel fresh and hygienically cared for, no matter what.

The environment adapts to my hygiene needs automatically — showers, fresh clothes, oral care, etc. appear when needed.

Cleanliness in this space feels effortless and natural.

There are no unclean sensations, textures, or smells unless I create them.

Waste is nonexistent or instantly disposed of in a safe, invisible way.

I cannot get sick, injured, or fatigued in this space.

My body is at peak health and vitality here.

Any past illness, injury, or imbalance is gently healed while I rest in this space.

My organs, systems, and cells function perfectly and effortlessly.

My immune system is always strong and effective in this space.

There are no allergens, toxins, or pollutants present here.

The air is always clean, fresh, and oxygen-rich.

My skin, hair, teeth, and nails are always healthy and well-cared for.

My body is free from inflammation, bloating, or hormonal imbalances here.

I feel nourished, hydrated, and whole at all times.

All food I eat here supports my ideal health, body, and energy.

Food digests effortlessly and never causes discomfort.

I am always nourished, energized, and satisfied after eating.

My body knows exactly what it needs and I am guided to it intuitively.

There is no guilt, shame, or restriction tied to food here.

My relationship with food is peaceful, intuitive, and joyful.

I can eat freely without gaining or losing weight unless I want to.

Any food I imagine or desire instantly appears, perfectly made.

Meals can appear solo, shared, or ceremonial — whatever suits the moment.

Food can be experienced as visual-only, taste-only, or fully immersive, depending on preference.

There are no loud chewing noises or sensory discomforts unless desired.

There is no pressure to eat socially or explain food choices.

The environment always adapts to my cravings or dietary preferences (vegan, gluten-free, sugar-free, etc.).

Tea, drinks, and cozy snacks appear when emotionally needed.

Only beings with kind, neutral, or aligned intentions can exist here.

Everyone in this space comes with the intention of peace, healing, or rest.

No one is allowed to bring fear, anger, or harm into this space.

Everyone here is self-aware, grounded, and respectful of all others.

No one will attempt to control, influence, or manipulate me or others.

Each person is energetically clean, non-invasive, and in their own lane.

No one can lie, trick, or deceive in this space — only truth can exist.

Every person or being respects boundaries automatically, even unspoken ones.

Everyone here honors consent as a sacred rule.

If someone becomes energetically unbalanced, they are gently guided to rest or step out.

Everyone recognizes each other by energetic signature, not appearance — no one can impersonate.

People cannot spy, stalk, or follow others into personal DRs from this space.

Telepathy, if allowed, is consensual and non-invasive.

Money does not exist here — all needs are met instantly and abundantly.

There is no government, system, or ruling body — this space is self-governed through shared energetic respect.

There is no capitalism, no ownership, and no scarcity.

Everything in this space is shared freely, without transaction or obligation.

There is no hierarchy or power imbalance — everyone exists as equals in their own sovereignty.

Time is fluid — there are no clocks, deadlines, or expectations.

There is no pressure to be productive, useful, or impressive.

There is no war, conflict, or politics here.

No media, advertising, or propaganda can enter this space.

There are no systems of control — only alignment, freedom, and peace.

There is no competition — only individual expression and harmony.

No one is “above” or “below” anyone else — all beings are respected as divine.

Laws of the outside world (physics, legal systems, social norms) do not apply here unless consciously invoked.

anything else the shifter decides to add in their mind can already be added automatically.

oh my god my hands-

[eciiipsed]

kaz brekker / jesper fahey fic recs

yall omg i know this is like a month late but i forgot i was making it.... ANYWAYS here it is !!!! feel free to add more in the tags and i will edit

**if your fic is on here and u want it removed let me know**!!!!

slash (may contain mature content so be mindful)

that peace like a river

Jesper's weird classical-music playing neighbour with no concept of a sleep schedule goes silent, and then he runs into him in a coffee shop, and everything gets gayer from there.

it's a bad idea right? (fuck it, it's fine)

The one where Jesper and Kaz are technically broken up, but nobody knows so they have no choice but to pretend like they're still together for Inej and Nina's wedding.

everything melted in less than a week

Jesper Fahey is the Capitol’s most prized possession. Kaz Brekker has nothing to lose

this is a shameless self promo im sorry; the hunger games au, mostly takes place after they are already victors.

sometimes love feels like a noun in some new foreign language

“You’re both dead to me,” Kaz says. It’s the first time he’s said more than two words to Jesper since he left. I still remember how your lips feel against mine, Jesper wants to say and forces himself to laugh instead.

kazper exes to lovers, literally my favourite fic of all time

how the light gets in

Kaz Brekker, teenage Sun Summoner, loses the battle of wills and and manipulation against the Darkling. This is what happens afterwards.

series of two fics; kaz is the sun summoner and jesper goes to rescue him

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft

Soft domestic kaz/jesper for the soul

love your masks and adore your failures

Whenever someone brings it up, Jesper tells them he's in on the joke. Yes, his clothes have too many colours and patterns. Yes, they clash hideously. That’s the point. He’s not going to admit he just thinks they’re pretty.

this is the time of our great undoing

“Do you think Kaz could fuck someone in a full-body bondage suit?” Jesper whispers, more to distract Inej from what’s on the screen than anything else, but still—the idea won’t leave Kaz alone.

a private sunrise

Ever since Jesper found out he’s the Sun Summoner, he’s been on the run. Well, sort of. He got side-tracked in Ketterdam, but now that Kaz is talking to Grisha of the Second Army, his five-year reprieve is over. Or is it?

pre slash / can be read as gen

noble occupations

After Jesper nearly costs the Dregs supplies, Per Haskell goes too far in punishing him. Kaz prefers his sharpshooter in working order.

gun it while i'm holding on

Jesper gets shot, and Kaz is the one to find him bleeding all over the cobblestones. A fair bit of grumbling ensues — followed by a race to find help before it's too late.

jesper injured; hurt comfort

eyes and hands (sometimes bullets)

After a confrontation gone wrong, Jesper and Kaz retreat to a safehouse to patch up their wounds. Things soon get much harder than anticipated.

kaz injured; hurt comfort

masks

And now Jesper thought he had the right to give up? Here, in a warm room, with a full stomach and friends who would fight and die for him? With Wylan Van Eck waiting to sweep him into a life of luxury the moment he got his shit together, and Kaz working to keep him from being buried in his own mistakes until then?

homoerotic fistfighting

we owe it to disaster

A spy should be prepared to get caught.

washed up on the beaches

Jesper has no reason to panic. He pulled off yesterday's betrayal with aplomb: fucked over the Dime Lions, saved the enemy's life, got the enemy to promise to buy back Da’s farm, did not get caught. He shouldn’t be panicking now. Why is he panicking.

pre canon

kaz/jesper/inej as a treat

to me you're all i am

He thinks about it often. His arms around Inej’s waist. His fingers in Kaz’s hair. His lips on their shoulder blades. He wants to be close enough to feel them breathing.

kanejesper MY BELOVED!!! modern setting one shot

perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table

Jesper’s spent his life following Kaz and Inej from one mysterious job to the next. He will follow them into bed, too.

this is RLY good, and its mostly kazper (inej is there but not as important). has some explicit themes so read at ur own risk.

[faithful-diaries]

.🧕🏻

[kthologue]

steal my girl — gojo satoru

synopsis. the time gojo and megumi decided to crash your date.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo roping megumi into his loser activities, timeskips, tw sappy

notes. this drabble has been rotting in my brain for over a year. finally wrote it!

“I’m going on a date.”

It only took five simple words from you to make the world’s strongest jujutsu sorcerer drop to his knees. For the first time in his life, Gojo could swear he was experiencing shortness of breath. And was it just him, or were the walls closing in?

“What?” The word leaves his mouth like a demand rather than a question. He’s trying so hard not to overreact, but your overjoyed face makes it nearly impossible not to succumb to the ugly green monster clawing at his insides.

“Well,” you push his shoulder playfully. “Don’t act so surprised. You’re not the only one that pulls.”

“Don’t I know it,” Gojo mutters under his breath, eye twitching. Don’t you know how hard he works to deter any suitors vying for your attention when the two of you are out? He’s practically a rabid dog growling at anyone who so much as breathes in your direction.

Hell, even Shoko once mentioned to him something about being a “registered pervert” at most establishments you frequent together.

 Not his finest moments.

You eye Satoru suspiciously before continuing. That was your first mistake.

“Yeah, he’s taking me to that new Michelin Star restaurant downtown,” you sigh dreamily. “I mean, seriously. Isn’t that so cool?”

Gojo scoffs, arms crossing over his chest. “If that’s what you wanted, you could’ve just said so. I know a place that has three Michelin Stars.”

You pout. “Well, it’s different with you.”

Gojo’s eyebrow quirks up. “How so?”

“You’re a friend. And with him…” You trail off, suddenly feeling shy under Gojo’s piercing gaze. Heat creeps up your neck, blooming across your cheeks as you toy with the hem of your sleeve. “It’s a lot more romantic.”

Gojo thinks he could just die.

The word romantic rings in his ears, and it was deafening. It digs into his ribs and squeezes at something raw inside him. He’s the strongest sorcerer alive, yet right now, he feels utterly powerless against the way your voice softens when you talk about someone else. Against the way your lips curve at the thought of another man.

He scoffs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Romantic, huh?” His voice is light, teasing, but there’s an edge to it.

You nod, eyes glimmering with something dreamy, something distant, and Gojo wants to reach out and wipe it away. He wants that look—wants to be the reason for it.

If you wanted romance, he could give you romance.

Better romance.

A grand plan manifests in his head, spinning to life at full speed. 

Oh, this poor guy doesn’t stand a chance.

The moment Megumi sees Gojo enter his and Tsumiki’s shared apartment, he knows something is wrong. There’s a certain energy in the air, a distinct lack of peace that Gojo drags with him that makes the eight year old’s stomach churn.

“Fushiguro!” Gojo’s voice rings out, far too enthusiastic for Megumi’s liking. “We have a problem.”

Megumi barely glances up from his book. “We?”

Gojo makes himself at home and slings an arm around his shoulders. “Yes, we. Our dear [Name] here has a date.”

Megumi's grip on his book tightens, his interest sparking at the mention of you. Where Gojo lacked maturity, you balanced it effortlessly. He liked that about you. He liked you.

Megumi blinks once. “And?”

Gojo sighs dramatically. “And we can’t just let her go unprotected, can we?”

“Unprotected?” Megumi repeats, deadpan. “From what? Bad table manners?”

“From heartbreak, Megumi!” Gojo places a hand over his chest, looking scandalized. “What if this guy is a total loser? What if he chews with his mouth open? What if he’s a handsy creep?”

Megumi’s expression darkens. He had been indifferent before, but now there’s a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He doesn’t like the idea of you being stuck with some no-good scrub who isn’t worthy. In a series of twisted events, you and that white haired idiot had managed to become the only constants in his life. The last thing he wanted was for some random guy to come along and take you away.

“We need to intervene,” Gojo presses, watching the flicker of hesitation in Megumi’s expression. His usual deadpan exterior is cracking, just a little. Gojo knows he has him.

Megumi exhales sharply, gripping his book a little too tightly. “I am not going to ruin their date.” His voice is firm, but there’s a sliver of doubt wedged between the words. Gojo seizes it like a cat pouncing on its prey.

“Ruin?” Gojo gasps, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “Megumi, this is purely a background check.” His grin stretches.

Megumi glares at him. “It could be considered stalking.”

Gojo waves him off. “Pfft. Such an ugly word. I prefer ‘protective oversight’.”

“You don’t even know if he’s a bad person.”

Gojo tilts his head, feigning deep thought. “Oh, you’re right. Maybe he’s perfect. Maybe he’ll take such good care of her that we won’t be needed anymore.”

Megumi stiffens, and Gojo bites back a smirk.

“That’s not—” Megumi starts, but Gojo steamrolls over him.

“I mean, think about it. If this date goes well, they might actually start dating. And then what? She’ll start spending more time with him.” Gojo nudges him. “She’ll run off and start a new family.”

Megumi’s jaw tightens. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously right,” Gojo corrects cheerfully. 

Megumi runs a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. He already knows Gojo won’t drop this, and, annoyingly, he’s already planted the seed of doubt in his mind.

Gojo leans in, voice lower, almost serious. “You care about her, don’t you?”

Megumi exhales sharply. “...Yeah.”

“And you’d rather make sure she’s safe than sit around wondering?”

Megumi stares at him for a long moment, then groans. “Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

Gojo grins, clapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s go before you start growing a conscience.”

The night was supposed to be perfect. A well earned break. It your first real date in a while. Probably your first since meeting Gojo. Though, strangely, you’d never stopped to question why that was.

The guy sitting across from you was a non-sorcerer, and while his looks had been enough to catch your attention when he first asked you out, the novelty was wearing off fast. His personality was as flat and each word he spoke draining more of your enthusiasm. You found yourself nodding along absently, barely listening, already regretting your decision.

Still, you just had to stick it out until the food arrived. Then you could eat, make an excuse, and be done with this painfully dull evening.

Though, just when you thought the night was starting to get interesting, a familiar voice cuts through the elegant ambiance of the restaurant.

“Mom, who is this strange man?”

Your choke on your wine at the familiar voice while your date stiffens.

You turn slowly, dread pooling in your stomach as you come face-to-face with Megumi, standing at your table with his arms crossed. His expression is perfectly deadpan, but you see the flicker of mischief in his eyes, a familiar gleam of mischief that could only be the work of a certain white-haired man lurking nearby.

“E-eh?!” You sputter, glancing between Megumi and your date.

Your date looks thoroughly confused. “Do you… know this child?”

“N-no—I mean, yes, but—”

Megumi doesn’t give you a chance to explain. Instead, he sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “And what will Gojo—Dad—say about this?”

The words slam into you like a truck.

Your date’s jaw drops. “You’re married?”

“N-no!”

“Then why is he calling you Mom?”

You glare at Megumi, but he just shrugs, completely unbothered.

“Come home,” Megumi continues with a sigh. “Tsumiki misses you too.”

“You have multiple children?!”

Your date looks absolutely horrified, like he’s just found himself in the middle of a scandalous affair. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Listen, if you’re going through a divorce or something, we don’t have to do this—”

Before you can defend yourself, another, far-too-cheerful voice joins in.

“There you are, sweetheart!”

Gojo waltzes up to the table, dressed in his finest suit and those damn glasses he only wore on special occasions. He places a hand on your shoulder and turns to your date with an exaggeratedly apologetic expression. “Sorry, buddy, but this one’s a real work. You know it took me two kids to finally tie her down?”

Your date glances between you, Megumi, and Gojo, his eyes wide with pure panic, as if he’s just stumbled into something far beyond his comprehension. His grip tightens around his napkin, knuckles white. “I—I think I should go.”

You lurch forward, reaching out as if that might stop him. “No, wait—!”

But it’s already too late. He’s scrambling for his coat, chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushes back from the table, nearly knocking over his drink in his rush. Without sparing you another glance, he spins on his heel and all but bolts toward the exit, shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.

You sit frozen for a second, blinking at the now-empty seat across from you. Then, slowly, you turn toward the culprits, fists clenched at your sides.

“You two,” you hiss, voice low and simmering with fury, “are in serious trouble.”

Megumi has the decency to look guilty, staring down at his lap, shifting awkwardly in his seat as if he’s just now realizing the full extent of what they’ve done.

Gojo, on the other hand, is utterly shameless. He stands there in all his smug glory, adjusting his sunglasses with a satisfied smirk. 

You grab your purse and storm out of the restaurant, with the two trailing behind you like two guilty kids.

“You know,” Gojo muses, “I think that went pretty well.”

You round on him so fast that even he takes a step back. “Pretty well?! You humiliated me! That poor guy thinks I have an entire secret family!”

Gojo snickers. “Well, technically, you do.”

You jab a finger into his chest. “You are not my husband.”

“But wouldn’t it be great if I was?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Megumi lets out a long sigh. “Please don’t entertain him. I’m sorry, [Name].” His blue eyes are trained onto the floor, “I just didn’t think he was good enough for you.”

You exhale sharply, some of your anger ebbing as you glance between the two of them.

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you sigh, your frustration softening at the sight of his guilty expression. You could never stay mad at him, not with that face.

Gojo, however, was a different story.

Slowly, you turn to him, eyes narrowing. “You—”

He grins, entirely unrepentant. “Me?”

Oh, he was so in for it.

Although he had been shamelessly unapologetic at the time, Gojo still found ways to complain about that night, even years later, after you were finally married.

“It was an unusually cruel punishment,” your husband whines dramatically, draping his entire body weight onto you as if his sheer presence could sway your sympathy.

“You mean the silent treatment?” you deadpan, eyes still trained on Megumi practicing his cursed technique across the yard. “It was only a week. Could’ve been longer if you hadn’t harassed everyone around me until they practically begged me to forgive you.”

Gojo lifts his head just enough to shoot you an exaggerated pout. “I don’t harass people. I simply exist, and they just happen to find me irresistible.”

“You tend to have the exact opposite effect, actually.”

“Ten years later, and you’re still so cruel to me.” He sighs heavily, as if burdened by the weight of your terrible treatment, before shoving his face into the crook of your neck. “You wound me, wife.”

You laugh, warmth bubbling in your chest as his breath tickles your skin. “You’re impossible.”

A loud thud interrupts the moment, and you both glance over just in time to see Megumi scowling, his stance off from a misstep in his training.

“You are still disgusting after all of these years,” he grumbles, adjusting his form before going at it again.

Gojo beams. “Aww, he likes us.”

You shake your head, smiling. “He tolerates us.”

“Eh, same thing.” Gojo squeezes you tighter, pressing a loud, obnoxious kiss to your cheek just to be insufferable.

Megumi groans. “Seriously, get a room.”

Gojo smirks, wiggling his brows. “Don’t tempt me, kid.”

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, loan shark!price x reader part 1, fem!reader, afab!reader, noncon elements, manipulative price, implied violence (not reader), petting, almost(?) fingering - 3K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune massive thank you to @pricetagged for keeping me sane writing this

“Mr. Price-” you spoke up, fingers massaging into your temples. 

“Said you can call me John, Sweetheart.” the man interjected with a serious look. 

He was currently hanging your entire life over your head and he knew it, you most certainly were not going to call him by his first name. Noticing your reluctance, he shrugged and leaned back into your dining room chair.

“Look, I’ve been as kind as a man like me ought to be. Don’t know how much longer I can shoulder the loss, and I don't know how much longer you-” He sent a condescending look of concern your way, a hand fishing into his pocket. “-can take the fees. I’m playing the good guy here, y’gotta pay up, lovie.” 

“No smoking inside.” you warned, voice less confident than you would have liked it to be.

His hand paused in his coat before slipping out and up in a sign of surrender.

There was a buzzing silence between the two of you, only interrupted by the occasional tick of your kitchen clock. It was hard to meet his gaze, eyes rooted downwards towards your table under the weight of your rising debt to one of the most notorious men in the city.

“Right then.” he huffed, palms coming down to rest on the table before twitching upwards. “So?” 

“Give me another month to pull something together.” you spoke, wincing when you caught the way his eyebrows quirked in surprise. “-Please?”

There was no telling a man like John Price what would be happening. He was the shot caller, the unequivocal card dealer, it was only by some higher grace that he let your ill manners slip. 

He grumbled for a moment before looking up. “I respect what you’ve got going on in the shop, I do. Lovely place, good atmosphere—we’re both the entrepreneurial type, so to say I’ve got a bit of a soft spot for you-” the thought that he’d lump your small shop in with his exploitative business made your stomach turn. “-but this is a bit much, yeah? Let’s give it up, sweetheart.” 

Your face twisted into a sharp grimace, but that was all you could do—what right did you have to tell the man whose money you were living off of to get out of your house? Even worse, you hated that he had a point; you were so tired of your lackluster sales and mounting bills, but-

“I’m not the only owner, I-I can’t just make decisions like that.” you reasoned.

He looked incredibly unimpressed, nostrils flaring with a dissatisfied huff. “Right, your business partner.” 

“H-he-”

“If it’s what you want, m’sure he’ll understand,” Mr. Price hummed, eyes narrowing. “I think you’ll find my men and I can be quite persuasive.” 

Registering your cautious demeanor, his lips curled upwards.

“Where is the bloke anyway?” John asked in faux-disinterest, disapproval blooming from his tone. “Always sends you to talk to the big mean lender. S’not right.” 

He shook his head and sighed.

“-Seen this play out before, love. He’s throwing you under the bus.” 

Your mouth shut, hard set into a frown—you knew he was right. Your business partner was most likely enjoying his morning in peace knowing it was your apartment above the building—your life about to be uprooted if it all went tits-up. It was hard not to feel played.

Mr. Price’s gaze glimmered in recognition, and slowly, like a languid predator, he was leaning across the table with a large hand over your own. 

You studied the sparse dusting of translucent hair on his fingers, the trimmed nails at the ends of his stocky fingers, his nice, expensive-looking watch—anything not to meet his eyes. 

“S’not worth it,” he urged softly. “spreading yourself thin like this.” he paused to think. “My advice? Liquidate, I'm sure you and I can work something out in the long term.”

You swallowed, throat feeling impossibly dry as you focused on the twitch of his thumb.

“I’ll think about it.” 

“I don’t want to be the bad guy, but business is business, sweetheart—I’m offering you a hand, it’s in your best interest to take it.” he spoke, palm patting over your digits before withdrawing into his pocket. There was a deep breath drawn in through his lips. “Right, I’ll be off then—Unless you want me over for lunch?” 

He chuckled deeply in solus as he stood, reminding you of a proud and awful beast. “Maybe another time then, love.” 

Ideally not.

-

The shop had closed on another unnoteworthy day, only serving to further hammer in Mr. Price’s point. With defeated footfall on the stairs up to your flat, you nearly slipped, shocked by a fist beating on the front door frantically. You slowly turned around, heart pounding from the sound.

“-Christ! Let me in!” Ewan, your business partner cried out from the other side of the threshold.

You hurried to the door; pushed aside as soon as the lock had released.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” you scolded over the shop door’s welcome chime. You were met without response while the man darted for the till. “What are you-”

“Not now,” he growled. “we need to get out of here.” 

Studying him closer, you realized one of his arms had been held up by a makeshift sling, tucked neatly beneath his quilted coat.

“W-what are you talking about?”

He paused, looking up. 

Your eyes widened when the light from the street outside washed over his face. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” he snarled, freshly dried blood crusting at the movement. His head dipped down as he popped open the till. “Price and his dogs want our heads.” 

“I just spoke to him this morning-” 

“Things change—may have pushed our luck a little too far. We’ve got to get out of town.” 

You frowned “I-I can’t just-” 

“Suit yourself.” he snapped, voice dropping to a mumble while his fingers grabbed at whatever they could, stuffing it into his coat pocket haphazardly. “-Sitting duck.”

“Wait—that's our money.” you balked, watching the empty register drawer shut. He offered you a bloody, tight-lipped smile as he sped past you towards the door; in and out like a typhoon.

“Good luck.”

You were stuck where you stood when the door swung shut, absolutely beside yourself in shock as you watched his figure disappear from view into the night. Looking around your shop, it was just as it had been when you closed up, but the knowledge that you were sitting on an empty till, all alone with the looming threat of a less-than-savory money lender finding out you were back to square one for your upcoming payment was not kind as it crashed into you. 

After a sobering moment, you hobbled over to the point of sales, turning the drawer’s lock tentatively. Of course, the tray was as empty as the day you had bought it, save for a spare coin roll shoved into the side. You stared down at the dark plastic, hand clumsily digging into your pocket for your phone. Swiping at the device, you paused, debating for a moment over whether or not to open the banking app; you already knew what you’d see if you did.

Confirming your fears, the log showed a hefty transaction at the branch earlier that day. The account had been emptied right before the banks closed. 

You had nothing to give John Price.

It was all gone.

You stared at your feet while it sunk in. Slowly, you regained the ability to move, making your way over to the shop door and locking it back up before spinning on your heels. The trip upstairs was eerily silent as you slipped into your flat, legs wobbling as you ambled into your washroom and stepped under the hot stream from your showerhead. You let the water run over you for far longer than necessary, only stepping out onto the frigid tile once your fingers had pruned. 

The dinner prep that followed had gone surprisingly smooth, serving as a vessel to pretend the foundation of your life wasn't crumbling away. You replayed comforting thoughts, words passing through your mind like a liferaft just out of reach– you knew Mr. Price, he always spoke gently to you, he would understand, he-

A fat tear fell onto the hand that braced you over the stove, watching the bubbling pasta through bleary eyes. With a shaking grip, you drained the water and slipped the noodles into your saucepan, stirring and sniffling lamely.

You made too much—you had nothing to give and you had made too much. Typical.

Sitting at your table, you ate in near-silence, listening to your clock’s soft ticking as you tried to ignore the afterburn image of Mr. Price across from you where he had sat that morning.

Your fork paused mid-air when the downstairs shop chime rang out. 

Had Ewan come to his senses? 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to call up to you. 

The stark sound of heavy footfall bustling around the lower level was the first thing to alert you to the intrusion—too much noise for one man. Setting down your fork, you stared owlishly at the door to your flat as if it was the last line of defense between you and whatever was happening down there. Through the muffled commotion, you could faintly make out the creak of your stairs getting louder—closer, you watched helplessly as the knob slowly turned.

The door opened a fraction, a thick hand curling around the side to brace it against the three thunderous knocks that echoed throughout the room.

“Come in.” you spoke up once your heartbeat had evened out, blinking as Mr. Price emerged from the dark stairway.

“Mmh, you’re here.” he stared down at you, a pleased rumble rolling around in his chest. “‘Course you didn’t skip town, smart. Good girl.”

He kicked his boots off and drifted through your kitchen; cabinets and drawers clattering behind you while he whistled breathily, dishing up some pasta as if you had made it for him—you do suppose he had every right to, though. 

Your whole body tensed as a palm ghosted across your back. The plate was set down, and the chair beside you was tugged out from beneath the table. 

Your eyes darted to his dish where it sat, steam trailing fragrantly. Mr. Price tucked in, humming lowly despite his tense demeanor. 

“S’good, Love. eat up.” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and grabbed your fork, gaze falling back to your dish as you picked at the food, appetite long gone. Once again, it was you, Mr. Price, and the sounds of your kitchen—an unwelcome sense of Deja Vu creeping in. 

“Your money’s gone.” you whispered, unable to stand the silence.

He reached towards you, grabbing your napkin, and patting his mouth. “I know.” he scratched at his beard idly. “My boys are dealing with that.” 

You paled, trying not to think about what would happen to your business partner as you watched Mr.Price fuss with his fork, leaning in to take another large bite; a nauseated feeling washing over you. 

“What's going to happen to me?” you murmured, eyes downcast. 

His fork clattered quietly against his plate as his hand came to rest on the back of your neck, thumb petting at your nape. “That’s what I'm here to sort out, sweetheart.” 

Sort out. It was ugly, spoken as if you were just one of his assets. You nodded; compliance met with a soft, affirming squeeze. 

“We can work something out.” his hand traveled downwards, grazing your arm before landing on the meat of your thigh. “I don’t have to be the bad guy.” 

“Mr. Price..” you spoke after a sharp breath, tears threatening to well up. 

You missed the way his eyes crinkled at your weepy tone, thumb brushing your thigh in comfort. 

“I’ve had my eye on you, love—Would have never lent you as much as I did if I wasn't sweet on you. Thought maybe I’d be able to charm my way into your life but it seems like I only see you when you’re late on a payment.” he laughed hoarsely. A knee knocked into yours as he stood; his chair scraping beneath him. The floor creaked under bulk, two large hands coming to rub at your arms with hot breath and trimmed beard tickling at your ear. “-I’m a hopeless romantic, y’see.” 

“Price!” a voice hollered up, causing the man to straighten with a low growl. 

“What?” he barked, voice aimed downstairs.

“Trucks loaded up, gonna head back to the office, yeah? See if Simon needs any help retrieving the cash.” 

His hands flexed around your shoulders. “Good, lock up behind yourself. I’ll be a bit.”

You froze, looking up to see the looming shadow of a man; profile distinct in the low light. He turned to you, offering a tight grin while a wayward hand trailed from your arm to your neck, caressing the skin as he exhaled deeply behind you, resting your head against his abdomen. 

“It’s okay to give in, love.” he cooed. “Let me take care of it all.” 

You had nearly folded when that little prey animal in your brain stiffened, hackles raising. You stood carefully, sidestepping his grasp.

“No, I-I… I couldn’t impose… It’s alright.” you silently begged for him to understand your polite refusal.

“S’not imposing,” he challenged, glaring down at you. “imposing would be the number of zeroes on the sum you owe me—now you care about my burden?”

“That’s-”

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart.” he laughed. “Now, sit back down.”

You complied, lowering back into the seat shamefully.

“Good.” he exhaled, crouching beside you with hands knotted together. “I always collect what’s owed, that’s one thing you need to understand.” 

You nodded.

“-But I’m not opposed to shouldering burdens where personal interest is involved.” His eyes searched your own desperately, palms unfurling to rest back on your legs. “You understand what I'm saying, yeah? You’ll never pay it off alone, let me help. I could take care of you.”

Overwhelmed, you turned away; the grip on your thighs tightening in response as he braced himself, standing up. A warm hand cradled your cheek as he drew your gaze upwards, free hand looping around your back and lifting you to stand against him like a marionette. 

“I don’t know what to do…” you sniffled as his big palm had begun to rub circles into your back. 

He shushed you. “-It’s okay, love. I can handle it, It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, turning and rubbing your face into his shirt as he comforted you. The entire situation was a disorienting experience. Had you done something so wrong to get here?– had it been a crime to want to live a gentle and quiet life in your shop? 

It was hard to care much for your sense of conviction when the root of your problem looked more like a finely woven cradle; what did it matter if you were to bend the knee to your devil’s appeal at this point? 

Still, it felt as if you were teetering on the edge of a cliff.

“I’m scared.” your lips settled for, hiccuping the words into his chest. 

He hummed thoughtfully, the noise buzzing around the walls of your head as his thick arms hooked around your neck, pulling you in deeper—a trap set without any fuss. 

“It’s okay for you to be scared,” he pressed a kiss to your crown. “There’s no way anyone was getting out of those rates you agreed to, love. Let me help you.”

You stiffened, head raising slowly to look at him. He smiled down at you.

“You definitely won’t be taking care of our finances, yeah?” John joked, letting out a deep, phlegmy laugh before he pecked your nose, pulling you back into his chest and rumbling against your head. “Enough nonsense. You’re tired, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

It was all so domestic—like he hadn’t just shown you his rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. 

His grip relented as he patted your bum. “Go on and get into bed, let me clean up dinner.”

-

So you did, brushing your teeth and feeling incredibly confused as to why you were readily complying. What truly got to you was how tender it felt—had you been so oblivious to his vying interest? You had just assumed he was a rare good-natured lender; though, you suppose neither of these had been true.

John Price was not a good man; although it was a recent revelation in the grand scheme of things, you knew this as a fact now. The other fact of the matter was that it seemed you were most likely the real collateral in the vulturine deal. Had he been playing the long game?

You could hear John floating around in the other room as you pulled an old shirt over your head to sleep in—the kitchen faucet running as you slipped into your bed. It all felt so wrong. 

Your eyes shot open when the bedroom’s aged floor creaked, deer-like paralysis keeping you snapshot-still as the ring of his belt buckle filled the static air. Was he—The rickety bed dipped behind you under John’s added weight, bedframe crying out with every shift of his body that came with tucking himself against you; achy grunts blowing out from his lips.

“Not as limber as I used to be.” he laughed modestly. “Still gets the job done though, I reckon.” 

He breathed for a moment before his nose dipped into the hair at your nape, sniffling around. 

“-Better than I imagined.” he grumbled contently.

Thick hands dipped under your shirt, massaging at the skin momentarily before slipping into your panties, tugging them out of the way. 

“Mr. Price.” you winced, feeling his cold hand on the sensitive skin.

his hands paused as the large man thought for a moment.

“Mrs. Price…” he chuckled after a beat, the hairs on your neck standing up in response. “-See? You don’t like it much, either. Now, what’s my name, love?”

“John.” you mumbled quietly, eyes darting around through the dark of your room.

“Mmh. good girl.” he hummed, hand cupping your cunt and thumbing at it absentmindedly. “Sleep, love. Big day tomorrow, yeah?” 

[eufezco]

NEW OLD JOEL 𓂃 𓈒 ❀

old man!joel x younger!fem!reader

synopsis – after years on the road, you and joel finally settle in jackson and there's nothing you love more than coming back from work to your old man wearing those glasses.

smut. fluff

the last of us masterlist

after traveling what felt like the entire world following joel, you both finally decided to settle down in jackson. it was peaceful, a not so small community anymore where you could breathe again, where you could do more than just survive. eat three meals a day. sleep through the night without one eye open. and with all that peace came space, to feel, to think, to finally let yourself consider what had been quietly building between you and joel all this time.

he was reluctant at first. the age gap weighed on him more than it ever did on you. you’d never brought it up, never even seemed to notice it in the ways he did. but you two had lived too much together since you first started traveling with ellie. that kind of bond didn’t come easily. yet joel didn’t think he had the right to want something as soft, as tender, as the love you showed him. and jackson helped him with that. the town gave him the kind of peace he never thought he’d earn. and slowly, as the years passed, joel softened and started to accept the life he deserved and appreciate the little things.

the way you massaged his shoulders after a long day of work, the way he always made sure you were warm in the mornings when he had to leave early, how you'd wake up tucked beneath an extra blanket. you built a life together made up of shared breakfasts and quiet evenings walking through the snow-covered streets of jackson, of fixing things around the house side by side, of laughter in the kitchen when something burned, and the way he'd kiss your temple like it didn’t matter.

—hi, —you said coming into the house. joel looked up from where he was sitting at the table, glasses low on his nose, hands busy with something that needed to be fixed. his eyes softened the second he saw you.

—hey, darlin’, —he said, —you’re back early.

—yeah, the snow is getting worst, there wasn't much we could do in the garden, —you replied, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up by the door.

joel gave a small nod, eyes following your every move, —i figured, —he said, —how’s the ground looking? any chance we can save anything before the winter really sets in?

you sighed, taking a moment to pull off your gloves and slide them into your pocket. —a few plants are holding up, but it’s mostly the cold that’s making it tough. i’m thinking of giving it another shot in the spring, once everything starts to warm up.

joel hummed. you approached him and hugged him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. his hand, still holding the small tool, paused for a second before he gently placed it down, he took one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

—how was your day? —you asked.

—good, busy. dina told me the cracked main lines are full of roots. should've checked them but i forgot, —he rubbed his hands over his face, clearly annoyed with himself. you could see how much he cared about getting things right, about showing that he was still capable, still useful. he picked the piece again and fidgeted with it.

—it's okay, you can get it done tomorrow. the main lines aren't going to move, —you reassured him, your voice gentle, as you smoothed your hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

—yeah, you’re right. tomorrow’s another day, —the therapy sessions were working, somehow, because never in your life would you have imagined the joel you first met would learn to take things slow.

you kissed his cheek, his beard tickling your lips, as your hand slid slowly over his chest. you couldn't help but smile at how lost he was in the task, not even seeming to notice the way you were touching him. you pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his neck, letting your lips pressed there for just a second before pulling back.

—joel, —you murmured. your fingers brushed against his before you gently took the small tool from him and set it on the table. you moved closer, slipping one knee over his lap, easing yourself down until you were straddling him. —are you planning on working all night?

joel's hands instinctively found your hips, steadying you, surprised but not willing to stop you. —was just about done here, —he said, —then i was gonna give you every bit of my attention. but i see you've got other plans for me.

you loved how he looked with the glasses low on his nose, made him look more domestic, but you gently slid them off, folding them and setting them on the table. his eyes followed the movement, then back up to yours, darker now but entirely focused.

—thought you liked those, —he murmured.

—i do, —you whispered, —but i'm afraid they might get in the way.

he hummed, his eyes fixed on your lips.

you unbuttoned the flannel he wore beneath his jacket. he watched you, barely breathing, his hands still resting on your hips but his thumbs began to trace soft circles through the fabric of your jeans. you sighed softly as the last button came undone, revealing his body. your hand moved over his chest, tracing the old, pale scars that marked his skin. your eyes moved lower, taking in the softness of his belly, the way he relaxed under your gaze instead of tensing. you bit your lower lip, what if you said this was the sexiest he has ever looked?

—i couldn't wait to get back home to you, —you brushed your nose against his, you hips started rolling against his own. joel swallowed, his hands flexed where they held you, fingers tightening just a little.

—yeah? —he asked, his voice low, a little gruff.

you nodded, and your lips finally met his in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen all day. it was desperate, needy, but slow and passionate. your fingers sank into the soft, graying hair at the back of joel’s head, tugging gently, needing him closer. he groaned low in his throat, his hands working hungrily on the zipper of your jeans.

you lifted your hips from his so he could slid your jeans down your legs and immediately after, you straddled him again. as your fingers worked on the buckle of his belt and then unzipped his pants, joel's big hands cupped your ass, pushing you forward and encouraging you to grind against his crotch.

you whined, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans through the thin one of your panties. you pulled down his underwear, just enough for his cock to sprung free. you connected your lips with his again, his hands now on your cheeks as you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan.

you took all of him. joel let his head rest on your shoulder as his hands traveled down your body to your hips. he helped you move, at first just rocking your body back and forth against his. your lips, half parted pressed together, made it easier for your breaths to mingle. then, you lifted your body and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again.

—fuck, yeah, just like that, —joel groaned in your ear.

you tried not to be so loud, you didn't want to attract anyone's attention or cause a scandal. but your cries and his moans eventually echoed on the walls of your living room every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

joel rose from the chair in one fluid motion, his strong hands holding your weight. with a sweep of his arm, tools and scraps went to the floor, forgotten. he laid you down on the now-cleared table, the wood cool against your back, contrast to the heat building between you as his cock never left your body.

—did so good for me, now let me take care of you, hm?

he grabbed your thighs with firm hands and guided your legs around his waist so he could go deeper. your heels pressed into his lower back as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. the table cracked with each one of his thrusts and you feared it might break, it wouldn't be the first time joel would need to ask his brother for help in repairing a piece of furniture that you had broken since your arrival in jackson.

one of his hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit, his fingers moving fast and with urgency as he felt how you were getting tighter and tighter. you closed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy from all the panting as your body jerked and squeezed his own between your legs as you came. after that, he didn't last much longer and released himself inside you.

you both stayed there for a few minute. joel rested on top of you and with your legs still around him, you welcomed the weight of his body pressing you down onto the table. you played with his hair as he finally looked at you. you showed him a little smile and he gave a quick kiss to your lips.

—my body's gonna hurt so much tomorrow from this.

you giggled, —i'll make sure to give you the best massage ever.

you showed him a little smile, and he gave you a quick kiss to your lips. but as you pulled away, both of you noticed the mess of tools and pieces scattered across the floor, the work joel had been focused on before everything had shifted between you.

—i'm afraid you're gonna have to start all over again.

—with that or with you?

[schilders]

note: more sleepy implied nerd!gojo

When you enter your apartment, it’s quiet—which isn’t surprising—and all the lights are dimmed. Which, if you were the last one to leave, it wouldn’t be all that shocking, but you weren’t the last one here. Satoru was, and you’re sure he is still here, but where he was you didn’t know.

“Satoru?” You call out as you toe off your shoes before stepping further into the apartment. The t.v. in the living room is on, but the sound is muted. “Toru?”

You enter the kitchen next, flicking the light on and placing the few bags of groceries you had purchased down on the counters.

“Jeez, Satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head. There was a plate of unfinished food left by the sink, and it gave you an idea of just where he was and what he was doing.

He had a habit of not eating properly when studying or working on a project, so if you had to guess. . .

Taking your time, you put away all the groceries and clean up the mess Satoru left behind before fixing him a quick sandwich and a glass of ice water. It would probably have been earlier today that he last ate, so he’s hungry even if he tries to deny it.

“‘Toru?” Your voice is soft when you call for him, not wanting to disturb him. The light to your bedroom is on, peeking out from under the doorway. You gently push it open with your shoulder, not wanting to drop his food. “Hey, I made you something—”

Oh.

Well that’s not what you were expecting to see.

He’s curled up on your bed, schoolwork abandoned on your desk. He’s got his arms folded, cheek squished against them, and if you look a little closer, you’d notice the small bit of drool on the corner of his mouth.

“My precious ‘Toru,” you murmur quietly, quickly placing down the plate and glass of water. The bed dips beneath you when you make your way beside him, a hand reaching out to brush back the soft white strands of his hair.

You don’t understand how he’s comfortable sleeping the way that he is. You want to wake him up to help him change into something more comfortable and help him settle in properly, but at the same time, he looks way too peaceful.

For right now, you continue to run your fingers through his hair, watching the gentle look on his face as he sleeps. His brows furrow a bit, and then there’s a soft murmur of your name.

“‘Toru?” You swipe a finger over his bottom lip, and he twitches under your touch. A quiet giggle escapes you at the sight, and then he’s murmuring your name again.

Again, you consider waking him up, and this time you give in. He’d easily fall back asleep anyways.

“Satoru,” you say, firmer this time, hand going to his shoulder to shake him gently. “I need you to wake up, baby.”

Stirring slightly, his lashes flutter gently, and you have to stop yourself from tracing along them. You think he’s about to wake up, but he just buries his face deeper against his arms, incoherent words leaving him.

Sighing softly, you shake him a little harder, watching the way his lips form a thin line before his eyes open.

“Hey.”

And at the sound of your voice, his eyes are opening a little wider, pretty blues coming into view as he blinks slowly, like he’s trying to process everything.

“Hey,” his voice is raspy, and he clears his throat before trying again. “Hey.”

“What happened here, sweetheart?”

It takes him a few moments to register your words, his brows coming together. “W-what?” Then he’s trying to sit up, and you reach to help him, hands cupping his face once he’s fully upright.

Without saying anything, you nod towards the desk, where he’s got his laptop open and forgotten, he’s got a notebook and a book or two as well.

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Licking his lips, he nods, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. “I got tired and figured I could take a quick thirty-minute nap.”

That surprises you because Satoru is not the type to abandon his work in favor of resting, you’re very familiar with this fact.

He can see the look of surprise on your face, a blush settling on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. “I knew you wouldn’t be happy if I didn’t rest, so. . .”

The thought has your heart fluttering softly and without saying anything, you pull him in for a quick kiss, your lip gloss rubbing off on his mouth as you do so, and he smacks his lips at the fruity taste. It takes everything in you not to squish his face.

“How about this,” you begin, brushing your fingers through his hair again, attempting to fix the mess it has become but only succeeding in further ruining it. And he’s looking at you with heavy lids, hands bunching up the comforter beneath him. “Eat something first, and then we can lie back down and get some more sleep.”

“But. . .” He’s licking his lips again, eyeing your desk where his stuff sits. You can tell there’s a battle going on in his head, one that’s telling him to pick back up where he left off and the other saying to get in bed with you. For a second there you think he’s going to further protest, but then his eyes are back on you, his gaze softening, and he’s nodding. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, a small smile on your face, but then another thought crosses your mind. “Or after you eat, we could take a bath together?” You suggest.

He’s nodding almost immediately, hands joining yours where they rest on his face, giving them a soft squeeze. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

You can’t help but giggle, your inner thoughts taking over this time, squishing his cheeks til his lips pout, “You’re so cute, ‘Toru!”

end note: prolly gonna write the soft bath scene

[pettysreverie]

Kinda really obsessed with the idea of him becoming super obsessed with you after fucking you…

CW: AFAB!Reader, stalking, obsessive behavior, yandere-esque behavior (if I missed something, pls kindly let me know!)

Like, I imagine that maybe he’s just come back from deployment? Would explain why he’s so starved for a good fuck, ya know?

Probably meets you in a pub (bc duh) and after a few drinks between the two of you, you both decide to go back to his place.

He figures it’s gonna be nothing too big of a deal. Certainly nothing he hasn’t done before.

Who hasn’t taken a bird back from the pub for a good fuck?

But the moment he slides into your cunt, he knows that he’d been wrong.

Whatever he’d been doing before was not fucking. Was not having sex. Because sex with you—with your slutty cunt and those heavenly sounds you make—is bewitching.

As if your cunt is putting him deeper and deeper under a spell with every twitch and clench.

A spell he gladly welcomes.

Your body is so soft and beautiful. And you…you’re so pliant and willing—batting those pretty lashes at him with that dazed, fucked out look in your eyes.

And that’s when the spell cements.

When a flip switches inside of him.

When something…changes.

He grips your ankles and hoists your legs over his shoulders to drive his cock even deeper inside of your quivering heat.

Your back bows off the bed and your hands grapple the sheets, moans tumbling from your kiss swollen lips as your eyes nearly roll all the way back.

“Yer mine. All mine.”And there’s a stutter in his breath as he moans, his hips momentarily stuttering in their otherwise relentless movements. “Say it fer me, love.”

But with the way he’s got you practically folded in half—knees all but bent to your chest with your legs draped over his back—replying to him is the furthest thing from your mind right now.

He angles his hips, driving long and deliciously thick cock directly into your sweet spot over and over again—seemingly determined to drive you insane with pleasure.

Seemingly determined to fuck you positively dumb.

“Say. It.”He grits out, his voice taking on an almost animalistic, growling tone.

There is something so primal about his command. Something about it brings out such a fundamental instinct in you that you cannot help but to comply—to submit.

“Y-Yours…”You manage to utter amongst your incoherent babbling and moaning.

One word.

You only speak one word.

But one word is all he needed to hear.

He fucks you well into the morning. The sun rises, its light shining through the cracks in the curtains by the time he turns you loose and allows you to rest.

And rest you do.

When you wake up, it’s practically evening!

You’re quite embarrassed. But like the gentleman he is, he assures you that he does not mind. In fact, he even offers to pay for your transportation home.

You decline, too embarrassed about your faux pas.

And for you? You assume that, while this was an amazing experience, it was a one time thing. You don’t expect to see him again.

But you do.

You run into him again and again and again.

At the market. At the park. At the coffee shop.

It’s fate! It’s the universe! It’s gotta be something, right?

It’s…him.

You really thought he was going to let you go after that world altering fuck? The way you blew his mind? The way your cunt hypnotized him?

Silly, beautiful, stupid woman.

Just the thought of someone else having you like that…no, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

How could he let you get away?

No, he had to hack your phone.

Not like it was hard…sure he’s more of a “field” agent. More used to having a gun in his hand and his boots on the ground, but he’s no stranger to some lines of spyware code.

Besides, you made it quite easy for him by sleeping in as long as you did…not that he minded of course!

You look so peaceful while you sleep. So beautiful, actually.

And really, he was so very glad he’d hacked your phone. How else was he supposed to know where you lived when you rejected his offer to pay for your transportation home?

But now that he’s in your phone, he’s practically in your life already.

Every contact you have saved, he knows.

Every place you go, he knows and can go there too. (How do you think your two have been running into each other so often?)

Every post you like. Every pin you save. Every song you playlist. He knows it all.

Not that you know it…not that you ever will.

He’ll let you believe it’s fate. Or the universe. Or whatever. Doesn’t matter to him, really.

Besides, you’re already his.

You even said so yourself…remember?

(Oh you don’t? Then why doesn’t he just remind you?)

[servicpop]

short n' sweet ♡ valentines day special　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　adrien ( delinquent oc ) x student president m reader

ⓘ　fluff fluff fluff ! jealous adrien , reader gets confessed to by a girl

A day where cupid strings his bow and aims his arrow at couples is the day you spend the most time stringing up heart decorations around the school. Its only a few small splashes of pink ribbons and red hearts since Valentines isn't a huge thing—some people simply don't enjoy it as much as Christmas or others—but it's a nice opportunity to liven up the school with some fun flare.

For the most part, you can see cheesy couples receive bouquets neatly arranged into something pretty for their partner or love letters being handed out the old-fashioned way. You weren't a big celebrator seeing as you didn't have a romantic partner. Of course the occasional chocolates being given to friends was a tradition you practised when nobody bothered to give you a flower or a sweet confession.

But this year was different.

After finishing the decorations, you took the time to wander the grounds before returning to your councillor room. It was early enough for the walk to be rather peaceful with the occasional wave to people you knew when they walked by. Reaching the room you, place your hand on the doorknob, twisting it until it makes that click before a hand plants on your shoulder.

“Been awhile.”

You turn your head to see him in the flesh. Adrien, with that shit-eating grin. It was completely out of character for him to show up so early—or show up at all. That fact alone sent shivers down your spine. A coincidence that he shows up bright and early on valentines day?

“Bit late but,” Adrien takes a moment to exhale before his eyes meet yours.

“Will you be my valentines?”

You stand there, blankly staring at him. No flowers, no chocolates and certainly no handwritten love letter stamped with a wax seal as you were wishing for. He couldn't have been this unromantic. For all you knew, Adrien was just some ill-mannered guy who weaseled his way into your life thinking he had you wrapped around his finger just because you two 'hooked up' underneath the staircase.

“No.” Short and sharp; unintentional or not. Sure you liked him, a little more than you'd ever wanted to admit, but Valentines was meant to be unrealistically romantic, a day where you can feel like you're living in those old romance films.

“What?” You could hear the confusion in Adrien's voice as he watches you brush past him and slam the door infront of his face, drowning out his complaints through the door.

That whole ordeal in the morning definitely wilted your mood. The entire morning session of classes felt like a drag as if time was purposefully going slower each time you glanced at the clock.

You were probably the first person to leave the classroom when you were dismissed, rushing out to your locker to reunite with your friends in hopes of charging your social battery.

“Hey— prez? I have, um, something for you.” The nickname felt like deja vu, like you've been called it countless times by a certain someone. But it wasn't him; it was a girl around your age or even younger. In her hands was a square, pink box with 'milk chocolate' printed in a cursive font. Her face was flushed pink and it looked as though if she met eyes with you, she'd melt under your gaze. On top of the chocolates was a pretty letter with equally pretty handwriting.

It undoubtedly made you smile even if it was just a little.

You accepted her gift, making sure you flashed a polite smile at her before watching her scurry off like it had been the hardest thing of her life to come up to you like that. It was charming in a way. You skimmed the letter which was mainly just her stating her appreciation for you and how she wanted to get to know you better with her name signed at the bottom with a small heart next to it.

A few of your friends who had just made it out of class had witnessed the whole scene, patting your back and pawing at the chocolates like hyenas. It wouldn't hurt to share the love, especially when your friends seemed like they'd die without sugar.

You let them all take one before sealing the box and placing it in your locker for later, you pocketed the note just so you didn't accidentally lose it or have it slip out.

Come to think of it, the more the day went by, the more you noticed a lack of Adrien. Usually he'd make an appearance by now, whether that was to stare at you with a smirk while you walked by eachother or to 'accidentally' brush your arm on any opportunity he got.

You made nothing of it though, it was probably because he thought today was boring—given all the couples would boast their affection towards eachother in the hallways—and decided to skip. It was typical of him to do so. But it still weighed in your mind all the way until the home bell rung.

Your locker was the last stop before you could go home, opening the metal door to see that your box of chocolates were gone; replaced.

Godiva chocolates in the shape of a heart, a letter sealed in an envelope, and a bouquet of flowers that look strangely like the ones from the school garden was neatly arranged in your locker.

“Do you like it?” You practically jump out your skin as your turn to see the man you haven't seen the while day.

“You put this here?” You ask, looking back at the gifts stuffed in your locker.

“Who else would— nevermind don't answer that.” You could tell from the furrowed set of his eyebrows that he was pissed off about something, like it bothered him enough to replace the chocolates you were given.

“I thought that maybe you didn't like how forward I was this morning.” It was one of those rare occasions where Adrien wouldn't have that cocky look on his face or that teasing lilt to his tone. He wore an almost shy expression, like he wasn't used to giving gifts this romantic.

“Seeing as you liked that girl's gift so much.” You could hear the venom roll off his tongue when he said that.

You glance down at what Adrien gave you. Godiva wasn't a cheap brand and those flowers would probably have taken Adrien awhile to personally pick and choose the ones you liked to plant in the gardens. Your heart flutters at the thought that maybe Adrien was gone the whole day because he was trying to pick up gifts for you, all cause he felt a little guilty.

“I know its over the top but—” “I like it.”

He pauses and stares down at you like its the most baffling thing in the world to hear you say 'I like it.' You look up at him, and you can't hold your smile back—this time, you smile wholeheartedly.

“Thanks, Adrien,” You look both ways to see if anyone was watching and you lean up to kiss just shy of his lips on the corners of his mouth. It was a quick peck as you almost instantly pulled back to pack up your things and walk past him.

He stands there, frozen in place before his own fingers touch his face, grazing over the spot you kissed him at.

There's a sharp bang of his fist against the neighbouring lockers as he internally crumbles, holding his face like he needed to shield what was left of your fleeting kiss.

A victory perhaps?

a / n ; dividers made by anitalenia , and the gift graphics are made by my dearest anby !

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter two | formula one imagine

chapter two: a dutchman and an italian in london

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

y/n still has a decision to make, maybe a little visit can sway her vote

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PREVIOUS PART

the next morning y/n found herself sat on her couch with only brando’s loud purrs breaking the stifling silence. the letter from kimi sat on the coffee table collecting the condensation from y/n’s abandoned glass of orange juice as she continued to mull over the decision.

stuck in her mind, y/n stopped petting brando and stared off into the grey skies of west london. she told herself over and over again that decisions like this should be easy. simply, if she wanted to do it, she would’ve known the first time the offer was floated to her. but she didn’t have that immediate burst of excitement, instead she felt her heart stop and hairs on the back of her neck stand up. in that moment y/n had realised that a place that ignited that kind of reaction in her was not a place she needed to be - therapy had worked it seems.

but then again, if it was such a sure no, why wouldn’t it leave her mind? pictures of her in black alongside the young italian, back at the tracks she loved and around the people she admired flashed across her mind.

three polite knocks rung out across the apartment. y/n wasn’t expecting visitors and the front desk hadn’t notified her of any visits or deliveries. it was probably mrs. granger from down the hall forgetting which door was which again so she ignored it and went back to petting brando.

three more knocks, a little more urgent this time, came ringing through the rooms. brando’s ears perked up as he jumped down from the couch and trotted towards the front door.

“brando, come back here,”

y/n whisper-shouted towards the cat who neglected to heed her warnings. tiptoeing into the kitchen, y/n rifled through her draws for a weapon, settling on a ceramic rolling pin as her weapon of choice. as she crept towards the door y/n could hear some quiet bickering being dulled by the thick door and then a sudden pounding at it. brando meowed in surprise and bolted, likely for his preferred hiding place under y/n’s bed.

“y/n open the fucking door i know you’re in there!”

max verstappen. y/n sighed, lowering the rolling pin and opening the door. much to her surprise the dutchman wasn’t alone, peering over his shoulders was kimi antonelli himself.

“were you going to make me into a pie? move out of the way,” max said looking at the rolling pin and pushing past y/n into the apartment.

“yes, i guess you can come in max…”

max shucked off his shoes and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cracking open a red bull. kimi followed apprehensively, taking his shoes off slowly and placing them neatly by the door.

“see! it’s almost like you knew i was coming,” max said with a smug smile, “now where’s my little boy?”

almost on cue, brando strolled back into the kitchen and immediately started rubbing against max’s legs. the dutchman knelt down and scooped brando up in his arms, red bull long forgotten as he doted on the cat.

“now you’ve tormented my son, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

y/n asked, arms crossed and with an unimpressed look on her face. looking over to kimi, the italian quickly ducked his head and fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. max continued cuddling brando, ignoring y/n’s questioning stare.

“i’m giving you two ten seconds to give me a good reason as to why you’ve come to disturb my peace today before i throw you out,” y/n announced. max cleared his throat and straightened his back, much to the chagrin of brando.

“right, okay,” max started, “you gotta take the job y/n. look at his little face,” max leant over and pinched kimi’s cheek, “look at him he’s so young and innocent. think of all the big ugly bullies like carlos and lando, you can’t leave him alone with them!”

“you came to guilt me into taking the job?”

“no!” kimi squeaked, “that was max’s idea. i wanted to come and tell you my reasons myself. i wrote you a letter but i don’t know if it ever made it to you.”

kimi’s eyes locked on the letter on the coffee table and looked back at y/n, eyes getting watery.

“oh. you did get it,” kimi started biting at his nails, “i’m sorry for coming and invading your privacy miss y/ln, we’ll leave you alone now.”

the italian turned to max, pleading with his eyes to go. max held up his hand, jostling brando again.

“we’re not going anywhere kimi, this has gone on far too long. y/n i get that you don’t really want to come back and for very valid reasons, but deep down i know you do. racing is everything to you and i know you changed your mind when you read kimi’s letter.”

kimi’s head shot up, looking at y/n with an unbridled and heartbreaking amount of hope. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, as if to stop himself from blurting out whatever he was thinking.

“that bullshit article about zak is no reason not to come back. he’s doing it on purpose to keep you from coming back. he’s a fraud, we all know he is. he’s terrified of you, that’s why he takes cheap shots at you. you don’t need to go anywhere near him in the paddock but don’t let him keep you away from what you love.”

y/n sighed, her head in her hands but max just grinned, sending a wink kimi’s way.

“you know i’m right y/n.”

“why can’t you be a mentor? you can look out for kimi?” y/n countered, her words sharp like an animal backed into a corner.

“and have to spend more time with george russell? i’m sorry kimi but there’s only one person worth suffering through that for”

kimi didn’t really seem too bothered by the dig at his new teammate, his eyes not leaving y/n’s, holding onto every word.

“so you’re saying that i should have to suffer through that instead?”

y/n smirked at kimi and took her cat from max’s arms. she sat back down on her couch and motioned for kimi to come and sit beside her. the italian sat cross legged, body angled towards y/n. to his surprise the first thing the brit did was place brando on his lap. kimi let out a soft yelp before brando started nudging his head against kimi’s chin. ”he likes you, that’s a good sign. my brando is an amazing judge of character so i trust he would pick out a good work partner for me”

kimi stopped petting brando so abruptly at y/n’s words that the black cat pawed at his chest to regain the italian’s attention.

“so you think we could work well together?” kimi asked in a small voice, making sure to continue stroking brando’s head this time.

“the annoying one over there won’t leave me alone if i don’t say yes,” y/n said, nodding towards max. the dutchman let out a ‘i heard that’ from the kitchen but left the other two to their discussion. “but he’s also right. i love racing and it hurts me very deeply that i can’t do it anymore. but i also see a lot of myself in you and your letter was so sincere it’s honestly changed my whole world view. i’ve been throwing myself a pity party for three years, enough is enough - and i can’t think of a better racer to be a mentor to.”

“really?”

the smile on kimi’s face was all-consuming, his eyes crinkling and a little giggle escaping as well.

“yes. although i am also impressed you came all the way from monaco to ask me.”

max plucked brando from kimi’s lap and crashed into the armchair, “oh he came all the way from italy actually”

y/n’s head whipped back to kimi who shrugged, whispering a small ‘worth it’ under his breath. max continued,

“he messaged me on instagram - my official account so vic had to text me about ‘this kid who wants to see if you’ll go to london with him’. then he drove all the way from milan to monaco and then we took air max here. he’s a very dedicated one you got there”

“you drove from milan to monaco? do you even have a road licence?”

kimi went to interject but y/n kept going, “it’s so early, when did you drive? you didn’t drive overnight did you?” the silence was answer enough.

“that is so not good for you kimi! right,” y/n stood up, dragging kimi with her, “i don’t have the spare room set up yet so you’ll have to deal with my bed. i have some of max’s clothes here that you can borrow but i order you to go take a nap and in a couple of hours i’ll take you both to lunch.”

kimi followed y/n like a little duckling to her room, hearing max in the background grumble about how he never gets offered a bed for a nap. y/n grabbed some clothes from her bottom draw and handed them to kimi.

“sorry they’re red bull branded, that loser doesn’t wear anything else, we just won’t tell toto will we?”

kimi let out another giggle, heading towards the en suite room to change. at the door he turned to y/n who was plumping the pillows and making the bed.

“thank you for taking a chance on me. i promise i’ll make it worth it.”

“don’t worry kimi. i think we’ll be great together. get a couple hours of sleep and we’ll get some food.”

y/n moved towards the door and gave kimi a soft smile as she closed it. the italian felt an even bigger smile break out on his face and allowed himself to let out a girlish squeal - he just had to text ollie about this.

back in the living room both max and brando had moved to the bigger couch and stared at y/n with knowing eyes.

“what?”

“nothing. just by my calculations it took you a whole two minutes to crumble and start the mother duck act.”

“so you don’t want me to come back?”

y/n poked, max sighed.

“you know that’s not what i mean. but it’s cute, it suits you.”

“shut up,” y/n said, fighting off a blush, “do you want to watch some tv while the little one sleeps?”

max yanked the remote from y/n’s hand and patted the seat. it was just like old times, nearly.

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maxverstappen1

liked by olliebearman, isackhadjar and 803,899 others

maxverstappen1: when in rome

view all comments

user1: you’re not fooling me buster

user2: the way this is defo vic being told to create a diversion

user3: sorry to break it to the gal she’s not doing her best

victoriaverstappen: keep me out of this one

landonorris: rome you say

maxverstappen1: that’s what the caption says does it not

maxverstappen1: can you not send me twitter links you know i do not have the abomination that is that app on my phone

user4: so you haven’t seen all the f1 yuri ??? you’re missing out

maxverstappen1: what is yuri?

maxverstappen1: i’ll google it one sec

landonorris: can we get back to my original point please?

maxverstappen1: manners lando!

landonorris: they butted into our conversation ???

landonorris: you’re not in rome so stop lying

maxverstappen1: you’re right 😟

maxverstappen1: i’m in monaco!

landonorris: YOU’RE IN LONDON WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE IN LONDON

maxverstappen1: nuh uh

maxverstappen1: i literally saw you on my morning run today lando

landonorris; don’t try and gaslight me bitch

landonorris: i saw the twitter account of your private jet it says you’re in the u.k. ?

maxverstappen1: that’s an invasion of privacy lando, i can’t believe you

landonorris: THEN STOP LYING

maxverstappen1: wow, big accusation buddy, you must be learning from george

user5: max will never not bring that up

user6: the way y/n and george used to be so close i wish i could’ve seen her reaction to that whole thing

user7: considering he never said anything in support of her after everything that happened… well i don’t think he would’ve gotten much support from her

user8: george russell and y/n y/ln takes a drag i haven’t heard those names together in a long time

user9: real ones know they were the OG brit ship

user10: yall just can’t let a woman exist can you

user11: lando up in the business sorry mclaren you can’t fool me

user12: i think if y/n does come back to f1 she should be allowed to shoot one man a day there

user13: i agree

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the trio are huddled around a cramped table way in the back of the quaint restaurant. both drivers are meant to be following their meal plans but have both gone for the hearty bowl of pasta recommended by y/n.

“i can’t believe my best friend is going to be back in the paddock, i love you my little italian man,” max sighs happily, ruffling kimi’s hair. “but also i don’t care if you’re going to be in the mercedes garage, i need a united front against george this season i am not letting the shit he pulled last season fly.”

kimi suddenly stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, looking at y/n alarmed.

“kimi, stop worrying, i’ve said yes, i’m not going to back out now,” y/n said, refilling the italian’s glass of water, “but i can’t guarantee i’ll be anything but just civil with george.”

“wait!” kimi yells, mouth full of pasta, “ollie and i have always wanted to know what happened between you two, if we’re allowed to know…”

y/n and max shared a look.

“i didn’t know me and george were such a hot topic with the rookies. i don’t know whether to be annoyed or not?”

“well it’s just me and ollie,” kimi slams his cutlery down and waves his hands, “one time i was wearing some of your merch after an f2 race and i was sat with toto when george came in and he took one look at my shirt and just glared at me. it was very weird but we’d never heard of anything about you two.”

“i mean we haven’t spoken in three years so i’d be impressed if there was still some gossip to go around,” y/n turned to max, “but if it’s anything like the last two races, it won’t take long to kick off again.”

max laughed to himself when y/n grabbed his hand.

“what did you say to him allegedly? that you’d put him on his head in the wall… well it sounds familiar…”

both max and kimi gasp, the younger leaning in, on the edge of his seat.

“oh boys, let me take you back to 2019…”

may 2019.

jimmyz smelt overwhelmingly of sweat. fancy sweat, but sweat nonetheless. y/n was stuck in the sea of bodies, clinging to the arm of mick schumacher and her watery vodka cranberry like her life depended on it. many hours earlier she stood proudly on the top step after winning the formula two feature race by an impressive ten seconds, her dancing partner standing second on the podium.

“i’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” mick tried to shout over the booming music. y/n waved her half-empty glass in his face and gave him a thumbs up. the german nodded and turned, starting his fight to get to the bar.

now alone, y/n let the atmosphere of the club and her earlier victory wash over her. yes, she was doing the typical white girl club dance but she’d earned that right on the track. y/n was lost in the music when mick finally returned, balancing his drink, two tequila shots, two limes and a packet of salt.

“i told you i didn’t need a drink, silly,” y/n yelled in his ear.

“the barman told me podium sitters had to have a tequila shot, jimmyz law?”

y/n took the shot glass from him and one of the limes. mick licked two lines on his hand and poured out the salt. she raised her eyebrow at him.

“what? we’ve done worse?”

she leaned forward and licked the salt from the german’s hand, threw back the shot and sucked on the lime. tequila shots still hadn’t gotten easier. mick beckoned her forward and whispered in her ear, “miss monaco winner, i fear we have an audience.”

y/n pulled back and looked around jimmyz. lewis hamilton was nearby, taking off his comically wet shirt for a captive audience after daniel had insisted on emptying another bottle of champagne on the brit. sebastian vettel had dragged an unwilling charles to jimmyz, who despite the thunder in his eyes, tried to dance along with his teammate. the trio of rookie brits were all off to the side, both lando and alex were trying their luck with the many girls alongside them in the vip booth but george stood alone. he was glaring, y/n thought it was at her but on a closer look, george was attempting to murder mick with his eyes.

“well doesn’t he look like a ray of sunshine,” comments mick, spinning her around again. “i should probably go check on him, that williams was as shit as ever today, he doesn’t take losing very well.”

y/n thinks she hears mick mutter a little ‘he should get used to it’ but elects to ignore it. she lets him spin her once more before making her way over to the booth.

“penny for your thoughts mr russell,” y/n asked, dragging him to sit down in the booth with her. george sits down but puts some healthy room between them and looks around, paranoid.

“leaving room for jesus, georgie? don’t worry, i won’t tell if you don’t?”

y/n laughs at her own joke but george looks less than impressed. y/n face falls as she takes a long sip.

“hey, i know today was tough but you don’t have to take it out on me i’m just trying to talk to you.”

george grumbles something under his breath. y/n looks at him, asking him to repeat himself. george looks out onto the dancefloor, not replying.

“you clearly have a problem, can you spit it out or i can just go back to mick.”

“i’m sure you’d love that”

“excuse me?”

george scoffs and goes to stand up. y/n gets up just as fast, a little unstable on the heels she thought she could handle for just one night out.

“i said i’m sure you’d love to go back out there and rub all over mr nepotism out there,” george shouted spitefully.

“i’m allowed to dance with my friends george. i don’t see what the problem is here.”

george wipes his face in frustration, “that’s the issue - you don’t think. what if people were allowed to film in here. a video of you like that, licking his hand like that - imagine what they would say?”

“i don’t have to imagine when you seem more than happy to say it yourself george.”

“i’m trying to be a good friend, clearly someone has to think of these things if you won’t”

y/n laughs bitterly, “my knight in shining armour, thank you for taking time out of your day to metaphorically slutshame me so i don’t have to.”

george groans and slams his drink down onto the table.

“mick is not just a friend, he is a competitor. there’s a difference. people will say things - that you’re sleeping with him to get an advantage, that you’re using him and his name to get a seat in formula one,” george said, exasperated.

“or is that just what you think?” y/n said, looking up at george with tears in her eyes.

“no! of course not, but people will say that y/n you have to be careful.”

y/n’s tears turned to hot, angry tears, the tequila shot pushing her to say the things she would usually push down.

“let them. if what you say is true, they’ll say it even if it’s not true. who cares? what do you expect me to do when i make it to formula one? take a vow of celibacy and not leave my hotel room every weekend?”

“i’m not saying i agree with it but this is how the sport is right now unfortunately. your image will matter so much more,” george said, trying to grab her hand but y/n yanked it away from him.

“george, people will call me a slut no matter what i do - i’m not going to let it stop me from celebrating when i want to, when i deserve to,” y/n hissed, she’d had quite enough of this conversation, this is not what a monaco winner does to celebrate.

“they won’t respect you if they see you like this,” george pointed to her dress, a short black number that showed off her legs but had a high neck, “they definitely won’t respect you if they see you dancing like that with mick or licking his hand.”

y/n’s head was hot, she needed george out of her sight or this could get ugly. “it sounds like i’ve already lost your respect, or did i even have it to begin with?” george protests, but y/n kept going.

“why do you really want to keep me at home? do you want to have me all to yourself, is that why mick is bothering you so much? or can you not stand the fact that i might beat you next year? a girl you deem a slut might be faster than you? might get a better seat than you faster? i might be a girl and you might think in some fucked up way that you have dibs on me because you’ve known me so long but let it be known, you try and pull anything with me on track and i’ll put you on your fucking head in the wall.”

y/n turned on her heel and stormed out of jimmyz.

present.

“oh shit.”

max whispered while kimi sat with his mouth open, struggling for words.

“we were young there,” y/n goes to explain, “but he ruined that monaco win for me. i think in a weird way he was trying to help but it came out wrong.”

the waitress had come to start clearing away the table and kimi was still gaping like a fish.

“that was so much worse than i was expecting. am i still allowed to tell ollie, i promise he won’t tell.”

y/n chuckled, “you can tell who you want, kimi, i don’t really care. it’s a fun tidbit, maybe if he pulls a fast one again with either of you it’ll be a cute ted’s notebook segment.”

“now that would make the sky prices worth it.”

GQ Man of the Year Red Carpet Live Updates

excerpt of red carpet interview between Y/N Y/LN and interviewer

interviewer: hi y/n! wow you look beautiful tonight!

y/n: thank you so much, you look amazing too!

interviewer: oh! you’ve got me blushing…

y/n: that’s my job!

interviewer: it’s amazing to see you, this is your first public appearance in over three years, we’ve missed you!

y/n: i know, i was nervous for tonight, i thought maybe i’d be on the red carpet and everyone would’ve forgotten who i am…

interviewer: we could never forget you

y/n: that’s too sweet

interviewer: especially when you’re turning looks like these

y/n: i know, three years of religiously wearing sweat pants, i knew i had to dress to impress

interviewer: don’t leave us for the sweat pants for that long i beg

y/n: i think you’ll see me out and about more often don’t worry

interviewer: is that a hint

y/n: it can be… as much as i would love to give you the exclusive darling, i have a contract i have to abide by

interviewer: very intriguing… well thank you for stopping and talking with us tonight

y/n: no worries! i’ll see you around

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the apartment was quiet when y/n returned from the GQ Man of the Year event, max and kimi had only been there for a couple hours the day before, but already the apartment seemed scarily empty. brando slinked up to y/n brushing against the expensive fabric, meowing for food as if y/n hadn’t gotten the notification for his automatic feeder.

“oh stop being so loud, baby,” y/n slumped down on the couch, kicking off her heels, “i might order some food and give you some scraps if you’re nice to me.”

the back of the dress was too complicated to tackle on an empty stomach so y/n resigned to eating cheap takeout in her designer dress. the chicken shop was embarrassingly frequent in her recent orders but she purchased her usual order anyway, not like she had a diet like the others anymore.

after just five minutes of scrolling through twitter, seeing her fans having a meltdown did bring a smile to her face, the bell went. her usual chicken shop was good, but not that good. however, in a good mood, y/n swung the door open with a smile.

“oh. you’re not my chicken shop order.’

“no. i’m not. but you are a mercedes mentor now?” lewis hamilton said with a tenacious smile.

“i’m kimi’s mentor,” y/n reminded him quickly, opening the door enough for him to enter.

“quite a get up you’re in,” lewis said, “quite a way to annouce your return.”

y/n poured a glass of water for him, “technically sky announced my return. you sad you missed me at mercedes?”

lewis smirked and moved around the kitchen counter. he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “what could you teach me?”. the air was thick with tension and the room was suddenly a lot hotter, y/n didn’t know where to look or how to reply. as she stood there, just inches away from lewis with her mouth open, ready to reply, the bell went again.

“that’ll be the front desk with my food,” y/n choked out, moving back towards the door and taking in a deep breath. she took the food from the concierge and slips him some money as a thank you.

y/n placed the order on the counter and flicked her eyes back over to lewis. “i’d say we could share, but this is definitely not vegan. was there a reason you came? i didn’t even think you had my address?”

the smirk again. “i can’t just want to come and see you? in his excitement max was very loose-lipped, but i can’t say i’m too angry about it. i would’ve preferred if you had trusted me with it from the start…”

“no one had my address,” y/n replied.

“max did.”

“max is different”

“how so?”

“he just is, okay? i didn’t think anyone would want anything to do with me after the crash. i just wanted to wallow in peace”

“please don’t assume how i feel about you again,” lewis finished his water and moved towards the door, “i’ll leave you to your food, don’t be a stranger in the paddock.”

lewis picked up her hand and gave it a quick kiss and left as fast as he came.

what the fuck. the door shut and y/n was floored. what just happened?

whatever it was, it would have to wait until after she had eaten to be processed. while plating her food, y/n picked up her phone and opened her text thread with max.

i’m serious dude, stop giving people my address.

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fin.

note: oh wow so this series blew up - i'm serious i got such an influx in followers i'm so glad you guys are enjoying it! some new players have entered but you'll just have to keep guessing! one warning, i do go back to work thursday so updates will slow but one of my new years resolutions was to write more anyway!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998

[plethorawrites]

Jason Todd x Empath Reader (Because I love this idea)

Jason had barely made it through the door of the apartment before he collapsed onto the couch, his feet hanging off the end of it as he buried his face in a throw pillow with a tired groan.

You looked up from the pot you were stirring in the kitchen, glancing over at him. "Long day?" He just groaned again into the pillow. "Did you want to take a nap before we eat dinner?"

Sometimes, when he was extremely tired, he would take a power nap before you ate, just to avoid falling asleep during the meal. You never minded much, since you knew he had a hard job and it wore him out.

All he did was raise a hand, waving it dismissively. Was that a yes or a no? You weren't quite sure, but probably thought he was refusing the offer, as he often did, since he felt guilty for coming home and falling asleep immediately instead of spending time with you.

Despite his best efforts, he slipped into a state of slumber quite quickly, even though he tried to fight it off, telling himself he would only rest his eyes for a moment before getting up to give you a kiss like he always did.

A few moments later, when dinner was nearly ready, you heard the sound of something getting kicked and peered over towards where he was resting. "Jay?"

No response.

Turning the burner down, you walked over to the couch where he was sleeping, not well, at that. He was thrashing, the way he often did, one of his legs hanging off the couch, occasionally kicking the coffee table when his body jumped.

"Jay," you repeated, a bit firmer, shaking him awake.

He bolted straight up, breathing heavily. His hand gripped the pillow until it was white while he looked around, trying to recognize his surroundings.

His gaze eventually landed on you and his breathing slowed. "Baby?"

You knelt by the couch, taking his hand in yours. "You okay?" You asked gently, as to not elicit any strong emotions from him by accident.

Jason hesitated to answer, not wanting to lie to you but hating to admit the truth as well. "I- I guess," he muttered, his grip on your hand tightening. He scrubbed his face with his spare hand, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I'm sorry for falling asleep," he apologized, leaning forward to place a small kiss on your lips.

You frowned slightly, resting your forehead against his. "It's fine," you assured him. "Are you hungry?"

Yes.

He was absolutely starving.

And as an added bonus, he wouldn't have to talk about his feelings or dreams for a while.

Jason nodded, loosening his grip on your hand ever so slightly before standing up, draping his hand around your waist and following you into the kitchen.

He knew you liked to know about how he was feeling; you constantly asked and he appreciated that you would take the time to let him try to vocalize feelings he used to ignore or invalidate. But he also knew that if he let you, you would use your powers on him every chance you could to help him sleep or bring him peace of mind, at your own expense.

Jason couldn't let you do that. So, he would rarely, if ever take advantage of your gifts. Instead, he would talk your ear off when he, very rarely, felt emotional enough to talk. And he would show you how he felt as often as possible.

After dinner, he laid down in bed beside you, pulling you close to him, like normal, resting his hand on your back and burying his face in your hair, kissing the top of your head. He never felt safer than when he was holding you and could feel you holding him back, with your arm wrapped around his waist and your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat through his shirt.

Unfortunately, his subconscious got scary when he was asleep and the normal comfort he felt disappeared when he began to dream, feeling like you were slipping away from him.

In his dreams, you left him. In his dreams, he died over and over and no one stood at his grave. In his dreams, he lost everything, everyone.

Jason woke up to you shaking him again, practically shouting his name to try to get him to open his eyes. He had broken out in a cold sweat, tossing and turning until all the pillows had fallen off the bed and he'd basically stolen the entire blanket from you.

"I'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." He was out of breath, panting as he buried his head in his hands. "I'm so sorry. Please don't leave."

You dragged his hands away from his face, taking his chin in between your fingers and forcing him to look at you. "Jay, talk to me," you pleaded quietly, laying your head on his shoulder as he caught his breath. "Just tell me what you saw."

He exhaled, his fingers curling around the sheets. "You left me," he said, staring down at the bed. "I died again and you di- you moved on. You didn't even visit my grave."

Your heart broke.

"You know I'd never do that," you insisted with conviction. "Never."

If he died, you wouldn't move on. You couldn't. You wouldn't just visit his grave, you'd probably live at it. No piece of your heart wanted to even think about loving someone else. Ever.

Jason swallowed harshly. "I know," he whispered, trying to believe you. "I just...my subconscious doesn't."

You squeezed his shoulder, running your hand back and forth, trying to ease some of the tension in his neck. "Please let me make it better," you begged.

"No," Jason replied without hesitation.

He wouldn't let himself rely on your powers. He loved you. Not for your ability to lull him to sleep, but because you were his partner, the person he wanted to see every morning and every night, who brought a smile to his face and made him feel safe just by existing.

"Jason—"

"I said no!" He exclaimed. "I'm not using you. I'm not going to sleep while you stay up to let me."

You paused, seeing him tense even more. He hadn't meant to snap and you both knew it.

"You're not using me," you stated calmly. "And I can sleep anytime. Please just let me help you rest. Just for a few hours."

You were desperate for him to sleep. He looked exhausted, miserable, even. It hurt you almost as much to see him deny himself what could help as it did for him to constantly refuse your offer.

His jaw set and you could see him thinking it though.

"Please," you repeated in a soft whisper.

He finally caved. Nodding he sighed heavily, laying down. "No more than three or four hours."

That's all he really needed to function, anyway.

You nodded, laying down with him, seamlessly falling into his strong arms, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala, clinging to him for your own comfort as much as his.

The tension slowly dissipated from his body as he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping your body tightly as he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath and trying not to feel guilty.

A few seconds passed and he suddenly felt his anger, his sadness, his pain, all subsided until all he felt was peace and calm. Not to mention love. A lot of love. To a nearly unfathomable point.

Within seconds he was falling asleep in your arms, humming and mumbling incoherently while nuzzling your neck as you stroke his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails.

Three or four he said. You agreed.

You still stayed up all night, only allowing yourself to fall asleep once the sun rose and he got eight full hours of sleep for the first time since the last time he let you use your powers on him.

He'd be annoyed, you knew and he wanted to complain, tell you not to sacrifice your sleep for his but when he woke up, you were already asleep, still clinging to him. So, he let his arms tighten around you again, laying there, letting you sleep, like you let him.

A relationship was give and take, he knew. He felt terrible for taking too much, so he would give you this. For as long as he could. Even if his arms were numb.

[mindless-existence1]

Live Action Movie Shadow x reader

Summery: You give him head scratches while watching a movie.

Authors note: My first sonic fic, this is suggesting romance where reader and Shadow have crushes on eachother but neither knows.

After the chaos of Eggman’s defeat, life in Green Hills had finally started to settle. Tom and Maddie had been kind enough to take Shadow in, giving him a place to stay alongside Sonic, Tails, Knuckles—and you. The house was lively, to say the least, but today, it was unusually quiet.

Tom had taken Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails out for a hike to “burn off some energy,” leaving you and Shadow alone. Not that Shadow minded the peace. He always seemed to prefer solitude, though you noticed he never complained when you were around.

You glanced over at him as he sat on the couch, his arms crossed and his usual stern expression in place.

“Hey, Shadow,” you said, holding up a DVD. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He turned his crimson gaze to you, his ears twitching slightly. “What kind of movie?”

“Your pick,” you replied with a shrug.

The two of you settled on an action-packed thriller—something you figured would hold his attention. As the movie started, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. Even in a relaxed setting like this, Shadow carried himself with an air of quiet intensity that you found… oddly endearing.

About halfway through the movie, you noticed how his ears twitched every time the sound effects got loud. You hesitated, then decided to ask something that had been on your mind.“Shadow?”

“Hm?” he replied, not looking away from the screen. “Can I… pet your head?” That got his attention. He turned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “Why would you want to do that?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. Your fur looks really soft. And… you look like you could use some relaxation.” He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Just as you were about to backtrack and say it was a dumb idea, he surprised you by sighing and shifting slightly.

“Do as you wish,” he muttered, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink.Your heart skipped a beat as you reached out tentatively, your fingers brushing through the fur on his head.

It was just as soft as you’d imagined, and Shadow let out a barely audible hum of approval. Emboldened, you continued, gently scratching behind his ears.

To your surprise, Shadow leaned into your touch, his usually rigid posture softening. After a moment, he shifted again, lying down and resting his head in your lap.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at him. He had his eyes closed now, his expression peaceful in a way you’d never seen before.

“Is this okay?” you asked softly.He opened one eye to look up at you, his voice low and almost shy. “It’s… nice.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering as you continued to run your fingers through his fur. For a while, neither of you spoke, the only sounds coming from the movie playing in the background.

As you absentmindedly scratched behind his ears, you found yourself wondering if Shadow could hear how fast your heart was beating. You’d had a crush on him for a while now, but moments like this made it harder to keep your feelings to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Shadow was having similar thoughts. He hadn’t understood why your presence always seemed to calm him or why he found himself seeking you out more often than not.

But as he lay there, feeling your gentle touch, he started to wonder if this was what peace felt like.“Y/N,” he said quietly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” you replied, looking down at him.

“...Thank you.”Your cheeks flushed. “For what?”

“For staying,” he said simply, his eyes closing again.You smiled softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns through his fur. “Always.”

Neither of you said anything after that, but the unspoken feelings between you lingered in the air, a quiet promise that maybe—just maybe—neither of you would have to be alone anymore.

[whatifitis]

♡ You Make Me Crazier - LN 4 ♡

Summary: this is based off this request! Lando spends most of the night playing Tarkov with Max and ends up keeping his gf awake for hours. so guess who's in a bad mood in the morning while the other is just vibing 😀

WC: 1781

CW: fluff, lando being loud (NOT IN THAT WAY PERVS), pillow tossing

Finally, the end of the season has come and the peace can begin. Lando and yourself had joined the team in celebration of Mclaren winning the constructors’. But Lando decided to leave the party quite early as he’d wanted to play some Tarkov with Max. You didn’t argue, you were pretty exhausted from such an eventful day, you were excited to hop into bed and get some much needed rest while Lando played some games. 

The two of you had arrived back in your hotel room and Lando quickly pressed a kiss to your lips before letting you know he was going to play Tarkov immediately. You watched him race to the desk with his laptop. You didn’t mind him playing video games, you knew it did him some good. Tarkov was sort of a safe place for him to forget about the real world a bit and you were grateful that he had something like that. Although, you’re not sure how he finds that game peaceful as it is one of the most stressful games you know of. It’s not like Animal Crossing where you just talk to villagers and hunt and gather. 

You got ready for bed, taking a nice shower to get rid of the smell from being out all day and partying. You think there was a bit of rose water still in your hair. Taking your time, you smile as you hear Lando’s laughter from the main room. It’s rare to hear it nowadays. 

Once you’re ready for bed, you walk over to Lando and tap him on the shoulder, “Love, I’m going to sleep now. Don’t stay up late, we have to be at the track early tomorrow for testing. And don’t be too loud, I wanna sleep a decent amount and I don’t want another noise complaint from the hotel.” you tease. 

“Alright, darling. I’ll try and keep it down and I won’t be long. Goodnight.” he says as he softly kisses you before returning to his gaming session. 

You got settled into bed and closed your eyes, ready to drift into a peaceful sleep. But the universe decided you weren’t going to sleep yet as Lando could not, for the life of him, keep it down. One second he was laughing his head off and the next he was doing some sort of accent that was a mix of German and Bulgarian? 

Slightly opening your eyes, you peer up at him and you silently scold him for being too noisy. You grab a small pillow off the bed and toss it in his direction, watching as it bounces off his back a bit. You can hear as he whispers “Guys, I think I fucked up.” before removing his headphones and turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, love. I’ll keep it down now, swear.” 

With that statement, you flop back down and sink into the bed. Thinking you’ve successfully gotten him to quiet down, until you hear him nearly wheezing from something Max said. This went on for another few hours, each minute passing you got more annoyed. But you didn’t want to say anything because you knew that these moments were hard for Lando to get and you knew he needed this time a lot. He needed to spend time with his friends and enjoy himself. He deserved it. 

So there you were, eyes dry as Oscar Piastri’s humor, mindlessly scrolling on your phone, waiting for Lando to log off for the night. You look at the clock and it was already 2 am. Your alarm was set for 7:30 am so that you could get ready and maybe eat before heading to the track. You cursed the universe and time difference, questioning what you did to deserve 5 hours of sleep. 

Finally, you heard Lando tell Max that he was done for the night and that he was logging off. 

Praise the lord. 

Lando shut his laptop and quietly got up from his seat, turning to see you still awake and on your phone. 

“I thought you were sleeping.” 

“Are you for real?” you blankly stare at him. 

“What?”

“You were still loud, Lan. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me to shut up? More than once? You know I’m not a very good listener.” he jokes. 

“I know. But you love being able to play Tarkov and stuff with Max and them. I didn’t want to stop you from doing that.”

“Oh, baby. Next time smack me over the head. I don’t like that I kept you up for so long.” he says, walking to sit by you on the bed. 

“It’s okay, Lan. Seriously. I can still get about 5 hours of sleep.”

“That’s absolute rubbish. Why don’t you sleep in? You can meet me on the track later or you can spend the day relaxing.”

“Nah. I wanna go with you and see the car. I also wanna mock Zak cause I know he’s gonna be hungover as fuck.” you laugh. 

“Fine. But I’ll make sure you get some Celsius tomorrow, even though they don’t sponsor Mclaren! Monster does. Just make sure to cover the can if there’s cameras.”

“Thanks. Now shut up so I can sleep.” you say, rolling to sleep on your side. 

“Alright, we’ll sleep now. Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous.”

-=+=-

It was indeed not a goodnight. You woke up to your alarm blaring loudly in your ear. Your eyes felt as if they were glued shut, you couldn’t open them to turn off your alarm. After a few attempts of trying to find your phone with your eyes closed, you reached over to Lando and shoved him, “Lando, turn it off. If it keeps ringing, I’m gonna kick both you and the phone into a wall!”

“Damn, someone’s already in a bad mood.” Lando mutters as he reaches across your body to grab your phone and mute it. 

Finally, some peace and quiet. That was, until Lando’s own alarm started going off. You were already off your rocker and his alarm sent you off the edge. He was still hovering over you and setting your phone back down so you end up “accidentally” tossing him off the bed with your eyes shut. All you heard was the thud that came from his body hitting the floor. 

Lando was so thrown off. He quickly stood up with his hands on his hips as he stared down at you. “Okay, I was gonna let you off for slapping me awake and making me turn off your alarm. But that was rude! You just tossed me off the bed. Not cool, babe.”

“Your fault for keeping me up for so long. Now I’ve had about 5 hours of sleep and you’re already on my nerves.”

“Since I’m so generous, I’ll let you sleep 10 more minutes. If you don’t wake up, I’ll be rolling you off the bed.” With that, he softly kisses your head and goes and gets ready for the day. 

Lando had taken a shower and gotten dressed, so it was time to awaken the beast, aka you.

He quietly walked over to your sleeping figure and sat next to you. Gently, he places a hand on your back and slowly rubs it, letting you know it had been 15 minutes and that it was time for you to wake up. He was met with an annoyed groan and a swatting away of his hand. 

“Okay, wake up. If you don’t get up now, I’ll make sure all the Celsius and coffee are hidden from you today.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” you side eye him. 

“Oh I would.” He smiles cheekily. 

“Piss off.” you, hitting him with a pillow, causing him to dramatically flop onto the floor. 

“Damn, you make me fall all the time. I’m so unbelievably in love with you.” he says, trying to flash you a cheeky smile but you were not having it. You got out of bed and locked yourself in the backroom so you could get ready for the day. 

After about 4 minutes, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Through muffled sounds, you could hear your boyfriend begging to be let in, “Baby, can you let me in please. I feel so lonely and bored. I want to hug you, please. Let me in, please. Let me innn, let me innnnnnn.” 

As much as he was pissing you off, you loved him too much to leave him out there alone. Plus, you were sure he was going to break something, a bone, if he’s left unsupervised for too long. Opening the door, you watched as Lando slid down the door and onto the floor. He was leaning on the door with all his weight so he didn’t land gracefully. 

“Oh would you look at that? I’ve fallen for you, again!” he laughs, still you’re not having it. 

You go back to doing your makeup in the mirror. You’re focused on your eyeliner when you feel something, Lando, grab your ankles. He pulls himself closer and wraps himself around your legs. 

“Koala mode. Oscah mode. Mark Webbah mode.”

“Off.” you try to shake him off. 

“Not until you love me again.” 

“I still love you, somehow. Get off.” you try and shake him off again. 

“Please. Please. PLEEEAAASSSEE” he squeals.

“Lan! Up.”

Almost as if he were a soldier being commanded, he jumped up to his feet. 

“I’m sorry, babe. Really, I am. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” he says, hugging you from behind and planting soft kisses on your shoulder and neck, “I shouldn’t have stayed up for so long and yelled so much. I’ll be better, I promise. Please, forgive me.” he’s gone all soft now, truly afraid he’s messed up. 

You turn in his arms to face him, “Lan, listen to me, yeah? As much as your late night gaming can annoy me, I wouldn’t change it for the world. There’s a sense of peace I feel whenever I get to hear you talk and laugh. People would claw for pieces to get that type of peace. So don’t worry. I still love you and will continue loving you. Even if it means less sleep. You still owe me a Celsius though.” you smile at him. 

His heart feels like it’s surrounded by butterflies. He loved hearing how much you love him and he’s relieved that you aren’t too mad at him. 

He softly connects your lips with his. He only feels happy and safe when he’s with you. So he thanks god everyday for you. He also thanks god for the fact that you can be bribed with Celsius.

[my-castles-crumbling]

paper - february 6 - black brothers - background wolfstar - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 274

"Hey," Regulus said softly, lingering at Sirius's bedroom door and looking at his brother, who was sitting at a desk by the window.

"Oh! Hey, Reg," Sirius replied, quickly shuffling the paper he was writing on off to the side and turning around. "Settling in okay?"

Regulus nodded. It had only been a few hours since he and Sirius had run away from Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night, but somehow it felt like it had been a lot longer. "What are you doing?" he whispered, taking a few steps into the room. He didn't want to be alone at the moment.

"I...erm...writing a letter. To my...my friend, Remus," Sirius answered, his cheeks turning a bit pink as he spoke.

Regulus took a breath. He knew it had been a long time since he and Sirius had spoken completely honestly with each other. The horrors and hatred in their childhood home had taken the trust they once had. But he'd also seen Sirius with Lupin before.

"I know he's your boyfriend, Sirius," he mumbled, looking at his brother. "I'm not like mum...I'm not going to...judge, or whatever."

Sirius's eyes widened comically and he bit his lip. "Oh...oh, well. Yeah. I was just telling him I'm okay."

Regulus nodded and sat right where he was standing, folding himself onto the floor. "Tell me about him?" he asked as a peace offering. Perhaps somehow, they could gain back the trust they once had.

And, grinning, Sirius began to talk.

Regulus hoped that maybe someday, he would have the courage to admit that he and Sirius had a lot more in common than Sirius thought.