#it was an actual relief to stop going to the hair dresser

[capitainecorbeau]

Reblog /0/ I'm curious to see the reponses

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 8)

Word count: 2000

Warnings: smut, oral, strap-on, blowjob, mommy kink

Taglist:@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi @ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet @polaris-likethestar @ahintofchaos

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you say, rooting around for your clothes. You find your underwear (cringing at how wet it still is when you put it back on) and your pants (which make your sweaty legs feel even more gross), but no sign of your shirt or bra. Agatha’s already pulled her robe back on and is fixing her messy hair in the mirror. “Have you seen my–fuck!”

“What?” Agatha stops, turning to face you. 

Your face has gone white. “You took off my shirt and bra downstairs. They’re by the front door.” 

“Shit,” she swears. “Um, okay. I’ll go down and distract him. You go find a shirt from your room and then say you came for dinner since you left early yesterday. When he comes upstairs to change, you find your stuff.” 

You nod and before she leaves, she crosses over to you and pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless. 

“We’re not done here,” she vows and then runs downstairs. You quickly go into your closet and find the first tattered T-shirt you can. You’re able to find a new pair of underwear and a skirt as well. You ball up the pants and underwear you just had on and shove them in-between the dresser and the bed and hurry down the stairs right as you hear the door to the house open. 

“Hey, dad!” You say when he comes in, trying to slow your racing heart at almost getting caught. His wife was two fingers deep in your pussy not ten minutes ago. 

“Hey, sweet pea! What are you doing over here?” 

You glance at Agatha who is gradually backing over towards the front door. “I felt bad about yesterday, you know, having to leave early to help Wanda. So I thought I’d come over and we could all have dinner?” 

He smiles at you. “That would be lovely. Let me go take a shower and then we can figure out what we want.” He slides past you to go up the stairwell and the moment you hear his footsteps upstairs you breathe a long sigh of relief. 

“I think these are yours?” Agatha says teasingly, holding up the clothes she had taken off you. “Nice new outfit.”

“That was so close,” you laugh, actually not believing that you got away with it. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you want to keep being daring. “Get on the couch.” 

Agatha raises an eyebrow at your demanding tone. “What?” She asks carefully. 

“I said that I wanted to taste you.” You can hear the shower turn on from down here so you know you have about fifteen minutes. 

“Honey, your father is right upstairs.”

“And?” You saunter over to take her hand and lead her to the couch. She puts up no fight when you push her down and sink to your knees before her. “That just means you have to be quiet.” 

The corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s so cute how you think you’re the one in control.” Agatha shuts up quickly though, when you suck a kiss into her upper thigh. Her robe has ridden up and you can almost see between her thighs. “Naughty girl,” she tuts. The mark also means that she can’t have sex with your father anytime soon. 

You weave your hands between the backs of her thighs and the couch and haul her forward to get better access. She moans at the abrupt movement and bunches up her robe at her hips. 

You part her legs and fuck, she is a mess. Wetness glistens on her thighs and her pussy is swollen and red, literally dripping. You can smell her. You just stare for a minute, transfixed. You had no idea you had this effect on her but now that you do, you will never be the same. 

“Are you going to actually do something or are you just going to stare?” Agatha bites out through gritted teeth and your breath hitches. 

“Do you get this wet for my dad?” You have no clue where that came from but all you can think about is her answer. 

Agatha actually whimpers. “No,” she rasps. Armed with that knowledge, you go back down between her legs and glide your tongue up the length of her pussy. You watch her through your eyelashes as she bites down on a finger to stifle her moans. “Fuck, baby.” 

She tangles a hand in your hair and pulls it gently. You make a noise that vibrates against her and her hips jump. She throws one of her legs over your shoulder to bring you closer into her and you can feel her calf flex against your back. You lick and suck and she lets out a guttural groan as you find her clit. Her fingers tighten in your hair when you scrape your teeth against it. 

“You’re doing so good for mommy, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” she says hoarsely.  You keep doing exactly what you’re doing, furiously devouring her cunt, and a minute later, her legs tense and she cums all over your face. You let her ride her aftershocks out on your tongue, smirking at her struggling to stay composed.  

She curses and then pulls you up by your hair, giving you a bruising kiss and then licking her wetness off your chin. 

“Satisfied?” She says, a wicked grin on her face. 

“Not even close.” 

“Good,” she says, giving you one less peck before moving her legs around you so she can stand up. “I need to go put some real clothes on before your father finishes his shower. Don’t get into any trouble.”  

When she goes upstairs, you quickly run your shirt and bra out to your car and stash them in your bookbag so you don’t forget them or leave them lying around in another precarious place. 

Agatha comes back down wearing a hoodie and olive green sweatpants. The same sweatpants from the picture she sent you this morning. She sees you looking and she smirks. She reaches down and fists the fabric so it tightens and reveals a large bulge. 

Your mouth falls open, your cheeks flush, and your brain short-circuits. She’s wearing a strap-on right now. She went upstairs, found her strap-on, and put it on. 

It is impossible to think of anything else than her stretching out your cunt with it. 

You’re trying to form words but sound just won’t come out and she’s immensely enjoying it. 

“See something you like, sweetheart?” 

“Yes,” you finally manage to choke out. And then, with impeccable timing as always, your dad comes down the stairs. Agatha lets go of her sweatpants and gives him a smile. 

“Figuring out what we want for dinner?”

“Maybe pizza? Agatha and I can go pick it up,” you offer. Agatha hums in agreement, looking curiously at you. 

“That works for me. Let me go get my computer and I can order it.” He leaves the room to go to the home office. 

“What are you doing?” Agatha asks, eyebrow raised. You shrug mysteriously and follow your dad over to the table when he comes back with his laptop. You all get a large pepperoni pizza to split and a liter of Dr. Pepper. 

“It’ll be ready in 20 minutes,” your dad reads off the screen. 

“We should probably go now, just in case there’s traffic or it’s done early,” you say. Now Agatha knows something’s up. The Pizza Hut is only ten minutes from here and there’s never traffic by their house. 

But your dad doesn’t think it’s strange. Instead, he turns so he’s facing the two of you. “It’s so nice to see my girls getting along.” 

You bite back a wicked smile. If only he knew. 

The second you and Agatha get into her car, she looks pointedly at you. “Alright, what’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, playing dumb. “I just want pizza.” You don’t say anything else so she has no choice but to start driving. 

You sit in comfortable silence for most of the ride until you tell her to pull over. 

“What?” She asks incredulously. 

“Pull over there,” you repeat, pointing to the parking lot of the K-mart that’s always empty. Sure enough, there’s two cars. She scoffs, but does as you say, pulling into a spot far away from anything. 

Before she can ask what’s going on again, you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb over the middle console and straddle her. She chuckles, hands finding her familiar spot on your thighs.

“You made me come pick up pizza with you all because you want my cock in your cunt? You’re insatiable, honey.” 

“You love it,” you retort, pressing your lips against hers. Like earlier, you don’t have a lot of time and she knows that too. She slides a hand up your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side to make sure you’re ready for her. 

“I don’t know why you even bothered to put underwear back on,” she says casually, like she’s having a conversation about the weather. “You’ve already completely soaked through this pair.” You blush despite yourself, still a little embarrassed by how needy you get for this woman. 

“Shut up and fuck me,” you tell her and she seems amused. She makes quick work of pulling her fake cock out from the waistband of her sweatpants, holding it with one hand while the other guides your hips onto it. You let out a long moan as you sink down on her. “Fuckkk.”

“You like that?” She pants in your ear, already doing the best she can to thrust up into you. 

“Your cock feels so good inside me, mommy,” you whine, putting your hands around her shoulders to get enough leverage to bounce up and down. 

“You look so pretty like this. My beautiful girl.” She peppers kisses on your chest, which flushes from her praise. You’re getting closer to the edge and she reaches down to rub at your clit. “Fuck, wish I could feel how you’re squeezing my dick.” 

Your rhythm stutters at the image of that and then you’re riding with a renewed energy, determined to put on a show since she can’t actually feel. “I love your cock so much. I’m gonna cum all over it for you.” 

Her hand that isn’t circling your clit wraps around your throat and you whimper. You didn’t ever think choking would be so hot. She leans in so her hot breath is against your ear and whispers, “Cum for mommy.” 

You have to bite down on her shoulder to stop yourself from screaming. She hisses at the feeling but never stops fucking you through your orgasm. 

You rest your head against hers for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of her inside you. 

She pats your hip. “Come on, we have to go pick up the pizza. Can’t have your father getting suspicious.” 

“Oh, but didn’t you hear? He’s so glad we’re finally getting along,” you remark, carefully sitting up and whining at the emptiness once her strap falls out. You move back to your seat and she smirks. 

“Why don’t you clean up your mess quickly?” 

You stare at her, a little confused by what she means, but you see her eyes flick from your mouth down to her purple plastic dick. You give her a knowing grin and lean over to suck her strap into your mouth. She groans, putting a hand in your hair, enjoying the way you bob your head up and down along her length. 

“There you go, good girl,” she says, very pleased. You moan at her words and the taste of yourself. When you finally come up for air, she pulls you in for another kiss. It seems that she also can’t get enough. 

When you’ve collected yourself and put your seatbelt back on, she pulls out of the parking lot and back onto the road to the Pizza Hut, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console. You reach over and lace your fingers with hers, your insides warming with how she smiles at you. 

[according2thelore]

(please read cw in tags)

dean knocks on sammy's door. he shifts on his feet. 

it's late. he knows it's late. but after the library today, dean needs to know where they stand. younger sam hadn't come back to their room after the fight, and dean ribs have been aching with the lack of sam winchester everywhere.

he knocks again, but doesn't get a response.

he cracks open the door, and it's dark and quiet. figures. sammy is asleep, dumbass! dean's mind screams, but he opens the door further.

"sammy?" dean asks, hushed. nothing. dean hesitates, but he takes a step inside.

the room smells like sam, and dean is brought up short by it. he hadn't realized how little he has walked into a room and known sam had been in it by smell alone.

they usually didn't stay in places long enough as kids for those places to pick up their smells, aside from the rare few-month-long hunt. even sam's apartment in palo alto smelled more like jess than sam. even worse, it had smelled of what their skin smelled like together, which was nothing dean had ever associated with his brother at all.

it felt like if every copy of dean’s favourite song had been destroyed, and only covers remained. it was the same, but barely. not in the way it matters.

but this room is sam's. 

it’s strange, as dean looks around the dark room, how little of sam is actually here.

there’s a flannel hanging on the desk chair, and a couple of thick tomes open on its surface. but that’s…it. a couple of the dresser drawers hang open, and dean notices even those are empty.

it’s like sam doesn’t even sleep here.

but there’s a figure in the bed, on his stomach, holding the pillow like dean imagines he holds his girls. dean wants to snort, because it looks like sammy is the little spoon after all.

“sammy?” dean asks, again. he reasons with himself that if he doesn’t respond, he’ll go back to bed. his own weakness irritates him. just because he and his sam had a fight doesn’t mean he needs to go bother older sam with it. but dean can’t seem to stay away from the guy.

sam’s breathing stops. 

dean finds his own breath catching, as sam shifts. slowly, sam turns around. he moves steadily, purposefully, like a jungle cat and not at all like a man just woken from a dead sleep. dean freezes in the doorway, feeling—terrifyingly—hunted.

sammy blinks at him. dean blinks back.

dean can't see his face well in the dark, and can't see his eyes at all. the sheer bulk of sammy takes dean aback now that the familiar dimples and moles are absent. this body is a hunter's body.

sammy doesn't say anything for a long moment. 

dean is about to say something, but…the little of sammy’s face dean can see does something strange. something bad. dean can feel sam crumpling in on himself, and sammy’s eyes cut away from him, like dean is made of teeth, or of crawling bugs.

"no. no, no, no." sammy winds a hand into his hair. "it was supposed to be over."

“sammy? it’s—it’s me.” dean tries, but sam is senseless in the very literal horrific sense of the word, eyes blindly searching the sheets, deaf to dean’s words. then, he slams his hand into the side of his head, hard.

"it’s not—real, it’s not—“ sam mutters, quicker and quicker, and dean startles. he runs over to sam, just as sam takes one of his own fingers and bends it back, hard.

“hey!” dean cries, trying to pry sam’s finger away from the punishing hand. dean hears a pop and watches—horrified, as sam’s finger pops out of its socket. “holy fuck!”

sam is pale, and despite how he tilts his head to avoid looking at dean at all, his eyes are wide open. dean doesn’t think he’s fucking blinked since he walked in.

“hey, look at me, sammy, please.” 

“dean’ll be here. he’ll be here.” sam mutters under his breath, and dean watches—part relief and fascination and terror—as sam pops his index finger back in place, like he practically breaks his fingers for fun.

“i’m dean, sammy—look at me, please!” dean cries, frantic, but this seems to only distress sam more. he cries out, shaking his head. tears pour from his unblinking eyes, focused on the ceiling.

“we’re out. i’m out. dean!” sammy’s hand snaps up, and dean barely manages to stop him from slamming it into the side of his head again. 

dean is going to be sick. he’s going to be fucking sick. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, what’s going on, and the lack of consciousness behind sam’s eyes is the scariest thing dean’s ever seen.

“what the fuck?“

dean whips around, both hands wrapped around sam’s wrists, whom—if anything—is more terrified that he can’t hit himself than the distress that the actual pain caused him.

his older self is standing in the doorway, and dean is so relieved to see him that he slumps forward, letting sam’s wrists go.

“he started hurting himself—i don’t—“

“get out of my goddamn way,” older dean roars, and he shoves dean behind him and into the hallway. dean’s back hits the wall, hard. his feet go from under him, relief and terror and nausea making him lightheaded, and he slides down against the wall.

"i didn't--i didn't--" dean can't get any air into his lungs. he’s trying to justify himself to no one, as his older self has immediately fallen into action.

older dean turns the lamp on, and light floods the room, blinding dean and making his eyes water.

"you remember going to bed," older dean says, grabbing sam roughly. it sounds like a command, like dean is trying to convince him with the strength of his words alone. "you remember dinner last night. what did we have?"

sammy's panting, and he's scrabbling at dean's wrists. dean watches red welts bloom on his forearms, but his older self doesn’t even flinch. not even when the redness of his skin turns into blood. 

"he's got—young!—he wears his—"

"no. he's not here, sammy. tell me. what did we have for dinner last night?"

sammy's breathing fast, but dean can't see his face from where his hair has fallen into his face. it takes a few minutes for sam's breathing to calm, but dean is too afraid to approach. 

"we had...um. i think we had lasagna?" 

"there you go." dean smiles softly. you got onto me for forgetting to buy parmesan last week, remember?" 

quietly, so quietly that dean almost doesn't hear it, sam lets out a snort.

"yeah. i remember." his fingers rotate, and dean watches sam pet up older dean's arms with the pads of his fingers, like he's soothing the scratches from seconds before. spots of blood smear the trunks of his thumbs.

"dean." sam says, and dean can hear the tension running through it. he perks up, and his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest, trying to reunite with sammy because it knows what's right. dean has never been this close and far away from sam when he needs his help. "i think he's back. i think...i think he's wearing you, again." 

"no, that's pocket-sized, remember? you love that guy. you've been knitting him little sweaters to wear." older dean says, but neither of them look at dean slumped over in the hall. dean doesn't want them to.

slowly, sam raises his head. dean watches his hair fall back, and for the first time since dean walked into the room, sam looks at him directly. he has to almost lean over the protective shield of older dean’s body. sam’s eyes trace his face, his hands clenched on his knees.

"oh." sam says, shakily. "they...they both came. right. i—" sammy puts a hand on his forehead, and dean joins it, gently wiping his own blood from sam’s forehead as sam’s fingers transfer the rusty smudges. sam doesn’t seem to notice.

"come here. please?” a weak voice from the room, and dean—despite every fuckin’ thing—can’t deny sam a damn thing. not when he sounds like that, all weak and upset and so baby brother, despite the inches and pounds and years he has on dean, now.

he expects his older self to stop him, but dean just slides to the side, stepping away to the attached bathroom a few steps away. dean hears the sink turn on. sammy, still sitting on the bed, holds one arm out to the side, and dean steps into it obediently, almost automatically. sam’s feet slide off of the bed, and he sits on the edge of it, holding dean close with a heavy arm.

dean doesn’t know what sam wants—is afraid he’s going to agree to something they’re both going to regret later. but sammy just tilts forward, the crown of his head digging into the lowest part of his sternum, where ribs meet.

he can undoubtedly feel dean’s frantic heartbeat against his skull, but sammy just breathes slowly, eyes closed. 

"i'm so sorry, dean." he rasps, quietly.

"you're sorry?" dean croaks, digging his fingers into sammy's long hair to anchor himself. he can feel sam's shaky exhale against his abdomen. "i fuckin--jesus, sammy. i'm so sorry.”

sammy tilts away from him, and looks up into his face. dean is hit with such a potent wave of—in this moment—agony. this is his baby, isn’t it?

this is the little baby that wanted lucky charms for dinner and demanded to hold dean’s hand when they crossed streets and cried so hard when dean first came back from a hunt bleeding that he threw up. 

this is his baby, with tired eyes, and deep, harrowed lines in his face. for the first time, dean realizes just how much they’ve lost. sammy is looking up at him like dean is supposed to know what to do here, like he’s expecting dean to heal hurts that dean didn’t see inflicted. that dean himself has inflicted tonight.

this is his baby. 

sammy tugs on his arm, and dean sits down on the corner of the bed, so desperate to erase the look in his eyes, so desperate to meet sam’s needs like he always has that he’d be willing to shoot himself in the head if sam handed him a gun.

but sam just pulls dean in, just as older dean comes out from the bathroom. his forearms are still dark with red welts, but the bleeding has stopped. sam lays down, and dean looks up at his older self.

older dean doesn’t say anything, just gets in bed behind sam. dean slowly lays down as well. sam lifts a hand and dean feels a light tug at his neck as sam wraps a hand around the amulet. something humiliatingly close to tears prick at dean’s eyes. sam has been reaching for the amulet for comfort as long as dean has had it.

dean watches as his older self reaches an arm around sam’s waist and pulls him closer. sam’s eyes flutter shut, and his reaching hand encourages dean to come closer. slowly, like he’s waiting for dean to reject him, sam’s knee gently bumps dean’s and stays there. 

sammy has been so calmed by dean—by both deans here, together—that he's already loose-limbed and half asleep.

sam’s breathing is slower now, and dean watches raptly as his eyes flutter open. his eyes are sleepy and dark, and dean feels speared by the depth of his devotion to this man.

it scares him.

dean is acutely afraid, as he leans forward and presses himself into sam’s chest, letting sam tuck his nose into his closely-shorn hair.

"stone number one." sammy murmurs. 

it doesn't mean anything to dean, but his older self ducks down to nuzzle against sam's hair. they make eye contact over sam's head. 

something passes between them. not respect, not necessarily. an understanding, maybe. this is ours. we will do anything to keep him safe.

"you've got two of 'em, now. you're weighed down with all these stones, baby," older dean says lightly. sam huffs a laugh directly into dean's head, and he shudders. “you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

[incorrectbatfam]

Batfam’s Father’s Day plans

(also on Ao3)

"Morning, Bruce."

The way Stephanie says that instantly makes him look up. She traces her socked toe on the right angles of the tile, looking down. 

"Morning, Steph." Bruce puts his coffee down. "Something wrong?"

"Huh?" She perks up in realization. "No, not at all. I actually just have something for you. I stopped by Walgreens on patrol last night 'cause I ran out of antiseptic, and I saw something that reminded me of you." 

She hands him a dark blue greeting card with a cartoon fruit bat and Comic Sans text reading: You drive me batty, but I love you.

"Get it? 'Cause it's a bat, and you're the Batman." She scratches the back of her neck. "Not trying to make it weird or anything, you're just a cool mentor and whatnot. But also, it's nice to have someone who you can mess around with. My old man was always talking business even when he was at home—you kinda do that too, but in a good way 'cause anything's better than being a D-list villain, y'know. Plus, unlike him, you're working on striking a balance. Sometimes you even have a sense of humor." She chuckles awkwardly. "Anyway, I'm going on a jog. Text me if you need anything." 

Before he processes her rambling, she grabs a granola bar and races out the door. He opens the card and out falls out a handful of purple confetti plus an ever-rare two-dollar bill. Smiling, he brushes the confetti up and puts it in his shirt pocket. 

Bruce checks his watch. Everyone else is already out, except for Cass. She was out late last night on that Clayface mission, but even she should be up by this time. He fixes her a bowl of cereal with the package instructions and brings it upstairs. 

"Cass?" He knocks. "Are you up yet? It's past 9:30."

He hears the duvet crunch like a candy wrapper as she shuffles around. A moment later, the door swings open as a messy-haired Cass yawns. 

"I'll leave this up here for you," he says, putting the bowl on the dresser. "Any big plans today?"

She shakes her head. "Write reports. And relax."

"Well, you deserve a break. Great job on the stakeout, Princess." He plants a quick kiss on her forehead. 

"Love," she says.

"Huh?"

"Favorite thing you do. Love."

He laughs softly. "I try. Now go get dressed."

The rest of the day goes by like any other. Despite it being Sunday, he still has a meeting scheduled with some Singaporean investors on their timezone. By eleven, he and some other executives are gathered around the long conference table as the video call drones on, and it's not until over an hour later that they're finally let out. Bruce loosens his tie and Tim does the same, sighing in relief and exhaustion. 

Bruce asks, "Did you have lunch yet?"

"Oh, I forgot that's a thing," Tim says, stretching. "Hey, remember that ice cream place on 32nd?"

"You want ice cream for lunch?"

"I'd break your no killing rule for their M&M cookie sundae, okay?" he says. "Besides, remember when you took my friends and I there even though we massively bombed our first off-world fight? I might still be a massive perfectionist but that made me get a little more comfortable with failing. Anyway, I thought it'd be cool to stroll down memory lane—and have junk food as a meal without Alfred knowing. Unless you're busy, which I totally get."

"Not at all," Bruce replies, putting an arm around Tim's shoulders. "Duke and Damian will be at the arcade all day and I don't have any urgent side business." 

And so, instead of calling Alfred for a ride, they journey through the Gotham subways with Tim's camera capturing the Grammy-worthy saga of a billionaire CEO battling a common turnstyle. They get a few side-glances in the sparse train car, but besides a teenager asking for Tim's autograph, the civilians leave them alone. Pretty soon, they're at a 1950s-themed ice cream parlor, where the waitress slides their orders down the long chromium bar. 

"Why do they call it a banana split?" Bruce asks, grabbing the cocoa powder shaker. 

Tim pauses mid-bite of his cookie. "...Because they split the banana in half?"

"Really?"

He moves the whipped cream aside to reveal the cut banana in Bruce's dish. 

"How would it sound if I said I never noticed that?"

He smirks. "That's why I'm the brains of this operation."

"Indeed you are." Bruce ruffles his hair. "Though this head of yours could use some shampoo." 

"Will saying I love you get me a free pass out of it?"

"No." He laughs. "But I love you too, son."

Alfred catches on to their little dessert escapade and picks them up from the parlor, though not without commenting on the strawberry stain on Bruce's jacket. As Tim plugs his music into the car, Bruce takes the time to listen to the voicemails he got during their lunch break. 

"Hiya Bruce," Clark's voice plays. "I hope today's going swell for you. I just want you to know that I'm glad I can call you my pard'ner." Bruce snickers at the country twang.

Next is Diana. "Bruce, I apologize if I must keep this brief since I have a curator's convention today. However, I wish to tell you that you are an invaluable teammate and even more remarkable friend."

"Hey Batman, I gave you a shoutout to the Central City press for your help taking down Weather Wizard," Barry says. "Also, thanks for letting me borrow your communicator. I can always count on you to be overprepared. Have a good one!"

"Bats, tell your kid to quit taking my yogurt from the fridge." Ah, good old Hal. "Also, today's all about guys like you, so... yeah. I admit, you could be worse." 

Finally, there's one from Zatanna. "Afternoon, Bruce! I'd tell you in person if I wasn't caught up in Kahndaq, but I hope today is extra special for you. I know how much the birds mean to you, and I know they're gonna treat you well."

(There's also one from Ollie, but he's just asking if he can use the communicator after Barry. In the background, Dinah is is clearly ordering food.) 

After dropping Tim and Alfred home and switching to a more discreet vehicle, Bruce makes his way to pick two of his other kids up from the arcade. 

"Did you guys have fun?" Bruce asks as they climb in.

"We decimated every game," Damian says, "and won you the finest specimen as a trophy."

He plops a five-foot Snorlax into the front seat and buckles the seatbelt.

"This is for me?" Bruce asks. 

"Tt, who else would it be for?"

"I didn't win as many tickets," Duke says, "but I also got you a spider ring and a Chinese finger trap." He puts them in the cupholder.

"Why are you giving me all your prizes?"

"Again, who else would we give them to?" Damian asks.

Duke says, "I think what he means is that you do a lot for us, so this is a thanks from us."

As silly as it might seem, Bruce is genuinely touched. 

Pre-patrol dinner is a quiet affair, with Kate stopping by because she apparently forgot to go grocery shopping. She takes a fingerling potato off his plate. 

"Um, you're welcome?" he says. 

"Bruce, we're family. It's what we do." She takes a bite. 

He takes a piece of asparagus from her. "I wish all of us were here, though. Too bad Dick and Jason have that Penguin stakeout. Hopefully they're being safe."

"Even if things go wrong, they were taught by the best. You should trust them more." Selina gets up and places a peck on his cheek before going to get a drink. 

"I do," he mumbles into his meal. "It's the world I don't trust." 

As he puts on his cowl, he asks Barbara for an update on the evening. So far, Duke is handling a carjacking, the girls are preoccupied with a strip mall hostage situation, Damian is patrolling Metropolis with Jon, and Kate is kicking off her shift with a car chase against Two-Face. Tim and Selina are staying back to catch up on some overdue reports, but other than that, the cave is quiet. 

"Before you go," Barbara says, "my dad was cleaning out the attic and found something you might like."

From her bag, she pulls out a blue mug that says: World's Okayest Dad.

"My brother got it for him a long time ago, but... you know. It's all yours now, if you want it." 

He takes it, running his thumb along the words. 

"It suits you," she says before turning back to relay something to Stephanie. 

The route laid out for him tonight gives him the perfect opportunity to swing by and check on two of his boys. He lands on the rooftop silently, where Nightwing and Red Hood have already set up camp. Evidently, they don't notice him as they keep going with their conversation.

"Did you get dropped on your head as a baby?" Jason asks. "Sour cream and Greek yogurt are not the same thing."

"They totally are, change my mind." Dick glances through his binoculars. "No sign of Cobblepot yet."

A moment goes by as Jason not-so-covertly steals some of his brother's patrol snacks. 

"So how'd family therapy go yesterday?" Jason asks. "Did the old bat finally show an emotion?"

"It was pretty insightful, at least on my part." Dick lowers his binoculars. "I think I realized where Bruce's persistence comes from. It's annoying as hell, but I think that's how he maintains hope. And who knows, maybe it's his love language."

Jason scoffs. 

"I'm serious," he says. "I know none of us are stellar at this family thing, but we care about each other. You can't deny that. We just gotta... refine how we express it." 

"Count me out."

"Jaybird."

"Codenames, Dickhead."

Dick snickers. "You love us, admit it. All of us."

Jason mutters a string of curses under his breath before saying, "If you tell him, I'm filling your mattress with sour cream."

Bruce smiles and leaps to the next building. 

At the end of the night, Bruce finds Alfred brewing tea in the kitchen and takes the kettle from him. 

"I got this," he says. "Why don't you go relax in the living room? I think they added your favorite detective movie to Netflix." 

"This is a pleasant surprise." Alfred raises an eyebrow. "What brought it on?"

"It's Father's Day, of course," he replies, pouring the cups of tea. "You know you've always been a second dad to me."

"You made that clear with last year's breakfast surprise," Alfred says. "Care to join me?"

"Always," Bruce says. "By the way, do the kids seem different to you today?"

[dollfaceksj]

I’m actually so excited for cal #23 I’ve made so many scenarios just from the title man I need it

here we go then😘

can’t afford love | myg (m) #23

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

after tossing and turning for most of the night

it’s finally morning

the sun peeks through but luckily you’ve shut the curtains

but it seems only then that you realize that you’re pressed up with your chest against yoongi’s back

you wonder if he slept well

or if he’s still sleeping

your hand is pressed up against his chest

and the way his heartbeat picks up in pace doesn’t go unnoticed by you

it’s a dead giveaway that he’s awake

and now you really do have to pretend you’re asleep

but it’s already too late by the way he can hear your quickened breathing

well

here goes nothing

you nuzzle your nose in the hair on the nape of his neck

he smells good.

so damn good😭

your lips are softly pressed against the back of his neck

you don’t even know why you’re doing this

or when he’s going to tell you to stop

but he doesn’t

you realize he’s not really reciprocating

just lies there

how embarrassing….

you slowly try to tug your hand back

but he’s quicker than you

wraps his hand around yours to keep it pressed against his chest

doesn’t let go of your hand

even tightens his grip on it

he suddenly raises your hand from his chest to his mouth and softly kisses your knuckles.

:(

and you know that deep down, this is you and yoongi’s way of apologizing and forgiving each other.

you gently tug on his hand

hoping he understands

and he does.

he turns to face you

but neither of you make the effort to distance yourselves

in fact

the only thing you two do is stare each other down

your eyes trail the outline of his lips

you bring your thumb up to gently trace his cupid’s bow down to his bottom lip

he simply watches you

lets you do whatever you want

you slowly lean in

let your nose nudge against his

he lets you

your lips graze his, barely

softly

until you’ve pressed a quick, innocent peck to his lips

you back off to check his reaction but he’s simply closed his eyes for the peck and has slowly opened them to look at you again

but just as you go to lean in for another kiss

your phone buzzes

it almost makes you flinch

you reach out to your nightstand and check your phone

from: mom

(2 image attachments)

the first picture is her and jun in jun’s hospital bed

jun is smiling widely, in the midst of one of his giggles whilst she kisses his chubby cheek

the second picture is him sound asleep, cuddling his spiderman plushie that you bought to keep at your mother’s home

you smile at your phone and turn the screen to yoongi to look at the pictures

he squints his eyes from the brightness of your phone and then smiles at the pictures, a quiet sigh of relief escaping him

from: you

‘please send more when you can’

from: mom

‘Will do’

you lock your phone and put it back on the nightstand

you stare at the ceiling for a few moments

n feel his eyes on the side of your face

“thank you for birthing jun.”

you turn to look at him. “what?”

“just,” he pauses. “thank you.”

oh

well you couldn’t have done it without him you suppose

“thank you for assisting me,” you chuckle, reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear.

but before you can comprehend what’s going on, he’s leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips

“sorry.” he smiles. “needed a reason to kiss you for.”

he simply turns onto his back and stretches whilst yawning before sitting up

and you have to pretend like your heart isn’t drumming against your chest from that quick kiss

you stare at his back as he ruffles through his hair and scratches the back of his head before getting out of bed and heading towards the bathroom

you can hear him freshening up as you stare at the ceiling, replaying the last 12 hours in your head

you tilt your head to stare at the purse thats on your dresser

still with its spilled contents

mockingly staring at you

you wonder

if you should have a talk with him about how you’re going to continue from this point on

once you hear him exiting the bathroom, you get up and make your way there to freshen up as well

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

you’re having breakfast with yoongi in silence

until he asks, “is it a habit now?”

“hm?” you frown. “what is?”

he swallows his food before nodding at the tv behind you. “letting the tv play spongebob even when jun isn’t here.”

you didn’t even realize you had turned the tv on

it really must be a habit

“oh… yeah. makes me feel like he’s here with me.”

yoongi stares at you when you say that

and it must make him think about how if you two didn’t divorce, you wouldn’t have to see jun only 2 weeks a month

he looks down and sighs quietly before wiping his mouth. “so, speaking of jun.”

your eyes curiously flicker up to his as you take a sip from your coffee

“what now?” he asks

“what do you mean?”

“the birth control. do you still want another baby?”

“yes!” you cut him off immediately. “yes, i do. i told you, i only wanted to delay the chances of a pregnancy, not eliminate it.”

he slowly nods. “so,” he starts, leaning forwards. “you just want to have sex, then?”

you try not to choke on your breakfast and wipe your mouth clean

why does he have to say it like that?

“you don’t have to say it like that,” you mumble as you rise to your feet and gather the dirty plates

he stands up and reaches for your wrist. “how else am i supposed to say it? i’m not trying to do anything sketchy, i just want to know what your goal or plan is.”

you stare at his hand around your wrist before looking up at him. “like i said,” you start, “i just wanted to delay the pregnancy for a month or two.”

he nods. “meaning, currently,” he pauses, “you just want to have sex.”

UGHHH

you tug your wrist out of his grasp and continue to clean the table

“come on,” he chuckles. “why do you find it so hard to admit?” he stays in your wake like a little pest

“stop it,” you mumble as you place the dishes and cutlery in the sink

he traps you against the sink with his body, back pressed against your chest

“what did we talk about?” he asks. “something about being honest with me and stop being embarrassed to tell me about what you want and how your feeling or something like that? i could be wrong but that’s how i remember it.”

you whine at his pushiness

“come on, just admit–”

“yes, i just want to have sex with you for the time being,” you snap as you turn to face him. “happy?”

the frown on his face slowly turns into a grin. “see? wasn’t that hard, was it?”

you scowl at him before pushing him off and returning to the dining table to put everything back in the fridge

but yoongi follows close behind once again, just to pester you

you wipe the table clean of the crumbs when you hear your phone buzzing on the counter in the kitchen

“can you check my phone? i think it’s my mom,” you say as you anticipate another picture of your little prince

yoongi disappears into the kitchen and comes back holding your phone out to you

and yes, it is your mom sending you a picture of jun

you smile at the picture, it’s jun having breakfast in bed whilst watching spongebob and yoongi stands next to you, smiling at the picture as well

“can you imagine him starting to talk like spongebob? i’d have to give him up for adoption,” yoongi jokes, which earns him an elbow in his rib from you

“leave him alone, he’s just–”

buzz…

buzz.

buzz

both your eyes flicker up to the pop up notification at the top of your screen

and in your peripheral vision you see yoongi slightly tensing up.

yeah

he definitely read that

from: Taehyung

‘Hey beautiful. Have you considered my offer yet?’

to be continued.

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@pamzn @jknoah @ahgasegotarmy116 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @Teddytaee @pnkmyg @yoongallery @agustdswifey @purp13st4r @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @kookssecret @p34rluv @xumyboo @jojowantstocry @minjenna @codeinebelle @Futuristiclovedreamland @rirushu @taegicity @namgihours @ultminyoongi @swinterr @butterymin @partyparty-yah @bettybloop @secfir @coffeedepressionsoup @keroppitae @manuosorioh @whoa-jo @etaerealboyv @kaiparkerwifes @luvjiminandyoongi @luvbeomkai @petalsofink @paradiseyoongies @Gaby-93 @MMFranklin @llallaaa @vickyyy97 @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @shabbamadapot @rrrapmonste-rr @jjeonjennie @yoongisducky @s3l3n0phil3 @itsmina29 @namjoonsbuspass @hoseokshobagi @laurenrodr @keshiadeija @acquiescence804 @swga-ficrecs @sato-hana02 @honsoolhour @gaby-93 @kimseokgen @Imene1609 @joonsmagicshop @yunki-yunki-yunki

[newtthetranswriter]

Christmas Conflict Clean Up

Word count: 949

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

Summary: Taking care of him after the Christmas conflict.

Warnings: Talk of blood, concussions and other injuries, stabbing

A/N: Hello everyone, I hope that if you celebrate Christmas you had a good one yesterday, and if you don’t, I hope you still had an amazing day. Anyway, I wrote this picturing it happening obviously right after the fight in the church. I also picture it happening when they are in the last year of high school, so still teen but more like 18ish. Anyway, enjoy and remember to Hydrate Or Diedrate.

   It was about three in the morning when the knocking on my window finally woke me up. I was totally confused by this, like, who in their right mind is knocking on people’s windows at 3am the day after Christmas. As I went to the window, my question was answered, seeing my boyfriend standing outside, with what was very clearly a black eye and many other injuries to his handsome face. Realizing it was Takashi standing out there, I rushed to slide the window open and help him climb through the window.

   “I’m sorry to wake you up so early. I just didn’t want to wake Luna and Mana with my face so beat up.” Takashi explained as he gave a weak smile sitting on my bed.

   Ignoring his explanation as to why he was here, I went to work, looking for my first aid kit that I kept in my room for nights like this. Digging through my dresser drawer, I let out a quiet exclamation of victory, pulling out the box of supplies. Turning on my bedside lamp, I decide the best course of action would be to first clean up all the blood. “Sorry, but this is gonna sting.” I said, taking an antiseptic wipe to a large cut on his cheek. He flinched away from the wipe and in response I grabbed the back of his head to hold him still, not realizing that was also a bad idea.

   This time he jerked forward, nearly headbutting me in the process. “Shit that hurt.” Takashi mumbled out, trying to keep his voice down.

   Realizing with that kind of reaction, there had to be a wound on the back of his head, I turned his face away from me. I let out a sigh of relief when I didn’t see any blood in his hair, but knowing there could still be something there, I carefully started moving his short hair out of my way. When I bumped a particular spot, he let out another quiet string of curses, signalling that I found the spit of concern. Looking closer at the spot, I could see a rather large bump that was already starting to turn purple. “Jesus, Takashi, what’d they hit you with a brick?” I asked, only slightly joking.

  “Close, a metal pipe.” Was his response as he tilted his head to look back at me. I held back a gasp, as I didn’t actually think whoever he got in a fight with this time would hit him with something. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. It’s just a bump and a bruise, nothing major.” He smirked, trying to make it sound not that bad.

  I resisted the urge to smack the back of his head. “Nothing major, really, Takashi. You could have a concussion, for god’s sake. Now sit still so I can clean up the rest of your face.” I snapped as I turned him back to facing me. “And don’t flinch, or I will make sure you leave here with a concussion.” I threatened, going back to wiping off his cuts.

  With that, he shut right up, knowing that if I had to I would really beat his ass for being an idiot. “What even were you idiots fighting about at Christmas?” I asked, hoping to get some answers on the citation, that lead to a bloody boyfriend knocking on my window at three o’clock.

  He paused, probably trying to figure out how to explain it in a way to make it sound justified. When he finally spoke, I could tell it was the unfiltered truth. “Takemitchy believed that Hakkai was going to kill his brother and was dead set on stopping him. He was right in the sense that Hakkai was there, but Yuzuha is the one who ultimately stabbed Taiju. Don’t worry, the wound wasn’t fatal, but it turned into an all out brawl in the church with Takemitchy, Chifuyu, Hakkai, and Me against Taiju and a couple of his Black dragon guys. Honestly, the only thing that saved our asses was Mikey and Draken showing up when they did.” He explained.

  I knew right away it was the truth, Hakkai was like the little brother Takashi never had, and I know he would do anything for him, even risk his life if he had too. I smiled as I wiped the last little bit of blood off his lower lip. “I’m glad everyone made it out okay then.” It’s all I could think to say. He returned the gentle smile. “Now please take a break from fighting until at least the new year, I don’t think your pretty face can take another beating so soon.” I said, earning a chuckle from him as I moved to the first aid kit back in its resting spot.

  When I turned around, Takashi had kicked off his shoes and thrown his Toman jacket over my desk chair, and made himself comfortable on my bed. Before I could say anything, he beat me to it. “You said it yourself, I could have a concussion from being hit with a metal pipe. I shouldn’t be driving in this condition. Now come lay down, we both know your parents are used to me coming over all beat up and spending the night.” He said, making valid points, patting the space next to him. I quickly lied down next to him, turning off the light. Before I could drift off to sleep, I heard one last thing from the lilac haired young man. “Thank you for always being here for me, even if it’s at such shitty hours” That was the last thing I heard before letting sleep take over.

[hotluncheddie]

stop being a goblin and let me kiss you

part 6

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

eddie munson absolutely has an ass. it’s small, but it’s there. robin owes him 5 bucks.

steve knows it exists because he’s staring at it. right now. has been for the past five minutes. from his slouched position on eddies bed. 

eddie seems resolute in staying as far away from steve as possible, like that raccoon he saw by the dumpster last week, all on edge, with little hands.

he's talking though, one of those rambling eddie speeches. he used to half listen to them in high school. half listen to the cute angry dork across the lunch room. look how far they’ve come hey? who woulda thought? 

‘you’ve been quiet for too long, i’m getting worried’ eddie says going for light but he sounds really nervous. steve is in half a mind to look behind him, see if theres some entity in the room thats causing it. surely it can’t be steve?  

‘oh? don’t mind me just enjoying the view, carry on with your tinkering’ 

eddie rolls his eyes but stops messing with the buttons on his tape player. finally letting the judas priest album play at low volume. ‘ugh, i’m not tinkering’ he crosses his arms. stubborn sassy fucker. 

‘what are you doing then? come over here.’ steve holds a hand out, wants eddie to sit near him again, close, like they are in his car. 

‘no, ah, nah. um, i’m good. i’m ye i’m, good over here.’ eddie leans an elbow on the dresser and leans into one hip. the epitome of uncomfortable 

steve snorts, flaps his hand to gesture eddie forward. ‘come ooooon man. what are you so afraid of?’ 

that snaps eddie out of it. 

he huffs and throws his arms up, all lanky limbs and pointy elbows. ‘because i’ve never fucking done anything like this before man!’

steve is a little spooked honestly, thought they were nearing the same page since eddie invited him inside and all. ‘anything like what?’ he just wants them to sit next to each other…

maybe hold hands. 

‘you know steve. come on! we’ve been, like, flirting or whatever and that leads to.. stuff!’

oh sweet relief. verbal confirmation of eddie knowingly sending steve insane. ‘thank god! i knew you were flirting back! but you kept running away!’ now steve has his hands up too. but also silently sending out a quick one the the big guy upstairs, nothin better then the people he likes liking him back. 

‘yeah because you’re you! and i’ve never done it before! never done anything!’ hands akimbo once again. like a little flappy bat. the cute kind, not demo. obviously, yeesh. 

steve can’t help but shrug. relaxing back onto the bed. that’s all? they could’ve been holding hand for weeks! ‘that’s okay, i don’t care’

‘well i do!’ eddies cheeks are a little blotchy and his eyebrows are scrunched. he’s so frustrated. it’s cute but voicing that thought probably isn’t going to help the situation right now. we’ll pin it “tell eddie he’s cute after freak out.” yeah, good. 

‘ok. i mean all you need to do is say if you don’t like something, then we do some thing else.’ it’s simple, always is. yet everyone seems to get so weird about it. 

‘but, ugh. but, what if you touch me and realise you don’t actually like me.’ eddie says and looks a lot less frustrated now and a lot more just pouty. steve can work with that. 

‘i doubt that so much. you’re hot eddie.’

eddie gapes at him, but again he’s a stubborn fucker. ‘what if i’m really bad at kissing, get spit all over your face.’

‘hot.’ steve shrugs again. and he’ll keep shrugging. shrug eddie into getting how utterly chill them making out could be. 

‘what if i sit in your stupid lap and bust in like 5 second huh? that really the kind of guy you want?’

‘sure, sounds hot.’

‘jesus you’re so annoying.’

but he’s smiling. 

steve smiles back. ‘will you come here now? i wanna hold your fucking hand.’ 

eddie pulls a strand of hair over his mouth. so shy! about holding hands! steve’s going to eat him whole! 

‘careful stevie or i might start thinking you’re desperate.’ eddies grinning, in that sharp jaw all teeth way. brat.

‘and what if i was huh? hm? what you gonna do about it mun-son?’

steve stretches out on the bed, settling his hands behind his head. feels his shirt ruck up and he shifts so his jeans slip down and little. waistband of his boxers absolutely on display, along with a little peek of hipbone and happy trail. 

eddie goes bright pink and cherry sweet again. 

‘come hold my hand ed’s. pretty please?’ 

˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚

part 1 (eddie) part 2 (steve) part 3 (eddie) part 4 (steve) part 5 (eddie) part 7 (eddie)

gonna go for one more part besties then we might be done

<|:0)c

sry if i missed on tagging anyone too mwah

[pianokantzart]

By The Numbers (Pt. 1)

Luigi hoped to use one of his own special talents to give the Super Mario Bros. Plumbing company the leg-up it needed to succeed. But as usual, for all his good intentions, the younger of The Mario Brothers finds himself in over his head.

Part two: X Part three: X

Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52624285

______________

When Luigi heard his brother’s gentle breaths fall away into a low snoring, he slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the closet, where his black vest, collared shirt, pleated pants, and green bow tie were folded together on a low shelf. He was glad he’d the forethought to gather everything beforehand. It was hard enough navigating his room in the dark, clumsy as he was. He hated to think what it’d be like trying to find everything piecemeal without waking anyone.

All the sports equipment and copper pipes left strewn about the floor didn't help in the slightest. By some miracle Luigi stumbled only once, bumping his shoulder painfully against his dresser. He clamped a hand over his mouth and nose to stifle a yelp, and waited with held breath to see if he’d given himself away. The mishap only elicited a small snort from Mario, who – after mumbling something under his breath– rolled over and fell right back to sleep.

Luigi let out a long sigh of relief, and after tucking his bowtie and a hair comb into his pocket he tugged on his striped socks, laced up his shoes, and plopped his bright green cap onto his head. The newsboy cap with the bright green “L” was identical to the one he wore as a child. Mario had a matching one, firetruck red and emblazoned with an “M.” Mario had insisted it be part of the uniform of their budding plumbing business, and their mother was ecstatic to put the hats together. “Budding,” as if their business had even a seed to sprout from. Quitting The Wrecking Crew felt amazing. Stepping back and realizing how much money it took to start a business of their own? That was far less pleasant. Luigi had three hundred dollars in his pocket, two hundred in his checking account, four thousand in savings. It was a fine amount for a man in his early twenties who worked a blue collar job. But even with Mario’s funds added on, plus all the tools and materials he’d gathered from his apprenticeship while working at The Wrecking Crew, there was no way they could get a business off the ground in a place like Brooklyn. If they only had a couple extra thousand… get a proper work van, some more tools, a bit of advertising… then they would stand a chance. Wearing the cap, he felt, would be good luck, and after giving the brim one more self-assuring tug, Luigi carefully opened the bedroom window and slipped out, shakily navigating his way to the fire escape, and creeping along the creaking metal to the pavement below. 

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He had planned it, researched it, and thought about it constantly, but he couldn’t believe he was actually going through with it. This felt like the kind of crazy scheme Mario would come up with. Anyone else would assume this was something Mario had talked him into, but no, this was all him... one hundred percent Luigi. Maybe his brother was finally rubbing off on him. Luigi hoped so. If their dream was going to be realized, then they both needed to be a little reckless.

On his way to the subway station Luigi stopped once to look in the reflection of a shop window, where he brushed his mustache and put on his bowtie. That was the last moment of true clarity he had during his journey, which quickly descended into an anxious blur of dimly lit tunnels, rumbling trains, and crowded streets as he shifted like a man possessed to the nearest Casino, already echoing with the hustle and bustle of Saturday night.

Luigi paused at the door. He loosened his bowtie to try and swallowed away the lump growing in his throat. He whispered one more quiet “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” then forced himself to step through the glimmering doors into the mayhem.

Walking through the maze of bells, music, muddled conversation, cheers, shouts, and blinking lights, he fully realized just how unaccustomed he was to being without his brother. Mario always entered unfamiliar situations like this with boldness, friendly and confident, as though he had every life experience under his belt. When Mario was around everything came easy to Luigi, there was not a single worry about how he looked, what steps to take, where to go, or what was the right thing to say or do, he simply walked in step with Mario and everything worked out in the end. Every now and then Luigi glanced around for his brother in the half second it took for him to remember that he had come here alone. In these instances he took a deep breath, counted the colors in the room, and rubbed the tops of his hands, putting into practice every little trick he had learned to ground himself when his breath and heartbeat began to outpace him. It was okay. He was okay. He could do this. His eyes were lowered and his hands were curled protectively to his chest when he found the cashier counter. Shakily, he asked to sign up for the next cash game, and exchanged the three hundred in his pocket for plastic chips. He asked where the poker tables were, and was directed to a room adjacent to the main corridor of the casino. It was only when all was in place, and all of his competitors were dealt their hand, that Luigi was at long last able to get comfortable. He didn’t chat, he didn’t drink, he simply stared at his cards, and allowed himself to become completely engrossed in the game.

He didn’t even realize that “counting cards'' was a term when he first learned to play poker. Although, as opposed to blackjack, the method was perfectly legal, and far from uncommon. It was merely deduction and strategy, focused on probability and numbers, and Luigi had always had a head for numbers.

He’d played regularly as a teenager… wiped the floor with the competition to the point that none of his peers would take him on. Recently he brushed up with a few rounds online, and though he was at that time too uncertain of his skills to risk any real money, he discovered he was still good at it. Really, really good at it.

His biggest worry was his poker face. He was never known for his ability to keep his emotions hidden, no matter the stakes, and yet poker proved to be an unexpected outlier. In the thick of the game his mind didn’t register victory and loss, the fine line between financial ruin and easy street, or much of anything at all. It was all just numbers: multiplication, calculation, and probability, completely detached from his heart. No matter what card he drew or discarded, his expression remained unchanging.

Of course, a perfect poker face couldn't change the luck of the draw. At the start the cards weren’t in his favor, and Luigi found himself folding early for a couple of rounds. He narrowly kept himself from going into the negatives, but to his relief his fortune turned around after the first two hours. It was only after the fifth hour of playing that he was finally knocked out of his numeric stupor. His eyes drifted down from the cards in his hands to the mound of chips in front of him. Actually taking the time to register how many there were in total, his heart skipped a beat. He was barely able to keep it together as he closed out the round with a win, making it through with a straight flush, his highest card only barely beating that of his closest competitor. He startled even the dealer as he broke his five hours of perfect silence with an elated laugh, and gathered his mound of chips to himself. “Wowie zowie! Ha ha! I… I can’t believe it!! Look at all this!” His sentiment was genuine, but he only realized how condescending he sounded after the words left his mouth, especially considering where his newfound wealth had come from. His unease worsened when he got a better look at the faces of the other players, their expressions ranging from somber resignation to boiling resentment. From there, Lu kept the brim of his hat tugged anxiously over his eyes while the dealer exchanged his hoard of low-value chips to a handful of high value chips that he could easily transport to the cashier, which Luigi did immediately, handing his dealer a tip before scurrying away.

His heart battered against his ribcage like a tiny bird, light as air and racing with so much excitement it was almost painful. He received the payout, and hurried straight to the Casino ATM, where he put every cent into his checking account.

It took everything in him not to skip when he returned to the subway station, though he couldn’t help but hum a cheerful tune as he descended the stairwell into the underground.

An old analogue clock hanging from the sticky stone walls showed it was half past four in the morning. A few commuters were scattered through the subway, creating a scene that was eerily quiet and dreary compared to flashing opulence of the casino, but the familiarity did Luigi’s heart good. Still humming, he leaned against a pillar, not even minding how unsanitary it probably was in his exhaustion as he drowsily waited for his train. He was confident that he would make it home in time to change into his pajamas and climb into bed before anyone could figure out what had been done. His mother, being a very early riser, was the biggest cause for concern, but she rarely woke before six a.m on Sundays. If his luck continued at this rate, he wouldn’t have to clamor up the fire escape, and could instead get the spare key from the potted plant and slip quietly through the front door. “There you are!” A stranger’s voice pulled Luigi from his thoughts, a shrill squeak leaving his throat as a heavy hand slammed down on his shoulder. Luigi turned to lock eyes with a heavyset man, nearly a foot taller than he, clean shaven and well dressed.

“Hi?” Luigi looked the individual up and down, struggling to put a name to the face. After a long moment of uncomfortable silence between them, he ventured to ask, “...do I know you?” “Forgotten already? We met only a few hours ago.” The voice was gruff. It feigned friendliness, but the malice was unmistakable, especially when paired with the ever-tightening grip on Luigi’s shoulder. “...Oh.” Luigi tried to pull away, but to no avail. “Heh, uh… s-sorry.”

“Are you?”

Luigi shuddered, the stranger’s tone ringing every alarm bell. He took hold of the wrist in an attempt to ease the mounting pressure, and looked around in hopes of spotting someone who could help him. There were some commuters further down the tunnel, faces illuminated by their phones, earbuds in. There was no telling if they’d lend any aid, even if they weren’t distracted. It was the Brooklyn Subway, after all. Everyone knew to mind their own business in New York. Looking back toward the confrontational stranger, Luigi let out another startled cry when he saw he was suddenly joined by three more men, all without an ounce of sympathy in their eyes.

“What’s going on?!” The question was met with silence, causing Luigi's mind to race. At long last, he remembered the man who held him. He recognized a pretty golden lapel pin he had admired in the split second before he was reabsorbed into one of the many poker games he had played that night. The others, he couldn’t figure out for the life of him. Did he forget their faces over the five hours he had played? Or were they uninvolved friends? Before he could ask anything else, he felt himself being dragged away, the offending grip now joined by a second hand clamped over his mouth. 

“Let’s talk.”

Luigi let out muffled protests, struggling in vain as each of the men took hold of him, and began to usher him down a darker, emptier subway tunnel, where they could speak freely without fear of interruption.

[armin-supremacy]

please, just break the silence.

pairing: lucifer x gn!mc

genre: hurt/angst, comfort

prompt: ❗️lesson 16 spoilers ❗️everything went back to normal much too quickly, leaving you to suffer the pain and memory alone.

Hurt. Sadness. Anger.

You shut your door quietly behind you, leaning against it with your gaze to the floor. These feelings bubbled in your chest, getting stronger the longer the commotion from the common room reached your ears.

How long had it been? Weeks now?

That day your kindness came back to bite you in the ass remained fresh in your memory. Almost like it was yesterday. The healing bruises along your neck still provided an ache you wished with every fiber of your being to go away.

It doesn't matter if it was another timeline. It was still you.

You could still feel the burning in your throat, hear the sickening break of your own jugular in your ears. And his fingers...those cruel, cold fingers that belonged to Belphegor plaguing your flesh.

All because you wanted to help him. Genuinely.

You didn't ask for anything in return, didnt want anything. Just reuniting him with his brothers was reward enough. Helping the misunderstanding you had been told took place.

How naive of you.

Things went to normal all too quickly. It made you sick to your stomach. You tried to push it away for the time being. You couldn't bring yourself to ruin the brother's reunion.

You forced a smile, engaging with Belphegor happily for the sake of the others, hoping the topic would be properly addressed and talked about after the buzz passed.

But it didn't.

Nobody had checked on your wellbeing, had made sure your feelings about the situation was heard. They continued on as if Belphegor had never left honestly. Making jokes and conversation, dragging you left and right for everything and anything.

You were still expected to go to RAD and socialize. Still expected to stay on top of your tasks. All while slowly breaking down because you couldn't let go.

You refused to let it go. And why should you?

You died. Sure, you came back. But what if Barbados hadn't been there? What if there was no other timeline?

What if there was only one of you?

You were starting to go numb.

And today....today was the breaking point.

You had been wearing high necked tops and a scarf, covering the yellow bruising and fainting fingerprints left by Belphegor painted along your neck. You were ashamed of wounds.

In all the time that has passed since that day, the clothing piece was finally acknowledged.

It was a simple, little question. Asmodeus had asked if he could borrow the scarf, complimenting how it'd actually go perfect with an outfit he had planned for his weekend out.

You could feel your chest tighten. You declined, lying with the excuse that it was a gift you weren't wanting to risk parting with.

Asmodeus being Asmodeus, the demon had pouted and teased you. You had snapped at him before hurrying off to your room before you exploded.

No...you should have. Maybe then, you could get their attention.

Before you knew it, you had taken your anger out on your desk. Everything tumbled to the floor with a crash.

Tears ran down your cheeks.

But you didn't stop.

Before long, your room was a disaster. Broken glass and books littered your floor. Your desk and dresser was toppled over, wood splintered by the force when you had kicked and punched the furniture.

Your hand throbbed. You had hurt yourself at some point. But you didn't care. You wanted these feelings gone. You wanted to be okay.

You wanted some kind of relief.

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, eyes were bloodshot. Your face was red and puffy.

"MC, what in the world is-"

You turned quickly at the intruder. Lucifer stood there frozen as he took in the destruction of your room.

"MC-"

"Get out!" You threw the closest thing you could reach at the demon. The item hit the wall next to his head loudly. "Get out, get out, get out!"

Your screaming was broken. Anyone could hear the pain in your voice. As you moved to grab something else, Lucifer had taken you in his hold, worried you'd hurt yourself more then you'd already had.

You screamed and struggled in his grasp. His arms were wrapped around your body securely to restrain you, your own arms pinned against your chest.

"You need to calm down."

If you were stable minded, you'd be able to use the pact against him. So all you could do was kick and try to fight your way out of Lucifer's grip. "I said let me go!"

Your scarf had slowly loosened before falling to the floor. You could feel Lucifer's gaze. "Please..." you sobbed. "let me go."

You couldn't hide them now. And you knew Lucifer wasn't going to drop it now that he had seen them. Defeat slowly caught up with your body, along with the exhaution. Both physically and mentally.

You faltered in Lucifer's arms, you head resting on his chest as the tears started up again.

Usually so composed and stoic, Lucifer spoke softly. "Come on."

He shut your door, the lock clicking quietly. He needed to deter his brothers from bursting in. You let him lead you over to you bed, careful of the glass on your floor.

Definitely need to clean that soon.

Lucifer sat in front of you. He carefully took your face in his hands, thumbs slowly running over your cheek to wipe your tears.

"MC? What happened?"

"You all truly are cruel", you replied quietly. Your eyes searched his. You could see a flicker of pain in his expression.

"What have we done-"

"I died, Lucifer", you cut him off. Your tone was harsh and bitter. You weakly shoved his hands off your face. "I died and you all didn't care just because I came back."

You continued. Finally you could let them hear it. At least, one of them.

"Do you not realize a toll that can have? I felt everything. My life leaving me. Your brother's fingers around my throat. I heard the sound of my-" you stopped. Sick. It made you absolutely sick.

You turned away. Lucifer's eyes flickered down to your neck. "That's why you've been wearing that scarf, isn't it?"

"Why else?" you snapped. "In the time you've known me, when have I ever worn a scarf?"

You were right. You hated scarves. They were itchy and uncomfortable to you. And yet, you'd been wearing one nonstop for the past few weeks.

Why on earth didn't he question it?

"Why didn't you say something? Tell us something was wrong?" Lucifer asked. It was careful, as if you'd break again.

"I shouldn't have had to! Who the hell goes back to normal like that after someone dies?" you stated. "especially when it happens to someone you claim to care about-"

"I do care!" Lucifer argued quickly. "I care about you just as much as I care about my brothers. You are just as important to me. To us."

"Then why, huh!? You were so quick to make sure Belphegor was settling back in just fine. So quick to make sure he was content in comfortable", you began. "Everyone was ready to jump to his aid, yet nobody checked to make sure I was okay. To make sure I was ready to move forward!"

"I tried so hard to be civil despite what I had went through. I tried so hard so I wouldn't ruin your reunion and disrupt healing for you all. And maybe it's selfish, but when am I supposed to get that?" you accused. "because at this point, it seems like I was never gonna until I exploded on someone!"

Your breathing was ragged as you tried to catch your breath. You had spoken so quickly Lucifer almost wasn't able to keep up.

"I apologize, MC...." he said softly. For once, he looked down regretfully. "I'm so sorry my brothers and I put you through so much suffering alone.."

Lucfier looked up to meet your eyes. He was genuine. It was rare for Lucifer to be vulnerable, especially due to his pride.

But he, along with his brothers, had hurt you. He cared deeply for you, truly.

"It's gonna take more than that."

Lucifer nodded. "I know." he said softly.

You let him pull you into him, his arms holding you gently.

"I promise you", he began quietly. "I'll do everything in my power to fix this..."

[xxrainshadowsxx]

Interpersonal Chapter 8

Panicking, pancakes, and heart-to-hearts with Aurora.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! What in the ever-loving hell were you thinking last night? It had been awkward enough trying to work with him when the worst thing that had happened between the two of you was one kiss. Now… you didn’t know how you could ever look him in the eye now, much less work for him.

Oh God… work. Besides the obvious ethical reasons to not fuck your boss, it was going to be an HR disaster if anyone else from the company ever found out about this. There were already questions about your relationship with him. And you just knew you’d be the one to bear the brunt of the blame if this did come to light. 

The worst part was that this was almost entirely your fault. Oh, he had clearly wanted you just as badly, but he’d given you several opportunities to back out if you had wanted to take them. Not only did you not take the chances to stop when you could’ve, you had straight up begged him to fuck you. You’d reveled in every touch, every kiss, and now you were left with very real consequences. And the part of your brain which reminded you of those consequences, which had inconveniently decided to take a vacation last night, was back with a renewed vengeance.

First thing was first: you needed to get out of here. You’d have to find your clothes (which in and of itself was going to be a job since your shirt wasn’t in the room and you didn’t remember how to get back to the bar), and find your way out of the labyrinthine mansion, all without waking him up. And that was much easier said than done. He had you wrapped so tightly in his arms that attempting to move even a little could very well wake him up.

Thankfully, you had a test, taught to you by a friend years ago, to see if you could move without waking him. Squeezing your eyes shut to pretend like you were still asleep, you roll over, burying your face into his chest. It’s definitely not where you want your face to be at the moment, but it’s the quickest way you know to see if he’s likely to wake up.

He doesn’t move, and you let out a mental sigh of relief. But just as you’re preparing to shimmy towards the end of the bed to escape from the foot, his arm moves, and you freeze. You pray to whatever God might be listening that he’s just moving in his sleep and hasn’t actually woken up…

No such luck. He’s slowly and methodically stroking your hair, and you can’t fool yourself into thinking those actions are anything but purposeful. Your best, and probably only, bet is pretend to still be asleep and wait to see what he does next.

It seems he doesn’t want to stay in bed for long. After a few moments, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before gingerly extricating himself from around you, as though he’s being careful not to wake you. You hear him moving about his room, opening drawers, and the shuffle of clothes, but you don’t dare open your eyes to get a better look.

Eventually, you hear the door open and close, and the sound of footsteps fading down the hall. You give it a few more minutes to ensure he’s not coming back before you allow yourself to sit up, stretch, and take a good look around.

Despite the amount of time you’ve spent in here, you’d been way too distracted to take any note of your surroundings until now. The room itself is huge, of course, just like everything else in the house. There’s a guitar hanging on one wall, although whether it’s playable or just for decoration is debatable. There’s also a bookcase, which you walk over to. Within moments, you find a copy of Shakespeare’s entire works. There’s a bookmark sticking out of it. You have a shrewd suspicion on what you’ll find if you open it, and sure enough, opening the tome takes you right to Taming of the Shrew. Shaking your head a little, you close the book and put it back on the shelf.

There’s a rich mahogany dresser as well, with something on top of it. Upon closer inspection, you see it’s a simple folded T-shirt. Is it supposed to be for you? You glance around to see if he has a habit of leaving his clothes out, but the only other clothes anywhere else are the ones on the floor you threw off each other the night before. You grab the shirt, but hesitate. You really don’t want to go out in his shirt.

But more than that, you really don’t want to go out topless. Shirt it is.

The thing is huge on you, which doesn’t surprise you considering how damn tall he is. It covers you well enough without the need for underwear, but you find yours and slip them on anyway. After a moment of deliberation, you leave your skirt on the floor. You’re beginning to put together a plan for how to get out, but you don’t want to clue him into that fact. You do, however, grab something out of the skirt pocket that will be essential to your plans and hide it away.

There’s three normal doors in the place, and one sliding glass door that leads out to a balcony. You’re fairly sure which door is the exit, but you’re still curious about the other two.

The first you try takes you to a washroom. You close that door quickly. The second is the closet, which is the one you were eager to find. It’s at least half the size of the bedroom itself. But how many green suits does one guy need? At least one wall is covered in them. It’s excessive even by his standards.

You’ve stalled for as long as you can. You take a deep breath and open the door that leads to the rest of the house… and to him.

Immediately, you notice a pink thread that you recognize as trufulla tied to the handle of the door. It creates a trail to follow down the unfamiliar hallways. You have vague memories of the path, but you’re sure you would’ve gotten lost without the thread to guide you. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that you’re dreading who you’ll find at the other end.

Sure enough, all too soon you find yourself at a corner. Delicious smells are coming from around this corner, as well as the unmistakable sounds of someone moving around. You have to face him at some point. It might as well be now.

You peek your head through the entryway and sure enough, there he is, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He’s facing away from you and humming an unfamiliar tune, cooking something you can’t identify yet. You can do this. You can…

Then he turns. Oh God. You can’t do this. His eyes lock onto yours and a smile splits his face. That stupid, beautiful face that you want nothing more than to kiss with as much passion as you’re physically capable of.

That stupid, beautiful face that you fucking came all over less than twelve hours ago. God, you can’t even look at him. You can already feel your own face burning crimson.

“Thanks for the thread,” you mumble, hastily sitting down at a table.

“Sure. Wasn’t sure if you’d remember where to go, and I had it lying around.” He’s speaking so easily, no trace of embarrassment. “I’m just making breakfast. You like pancakes?”

“Yeah. Pancakes are fine,” you gulp. You have zero intentions of staying for breakfast. Now, if ever, called for drastic actions. When he turns back to his cooking, you pull out your phone that you’d stashed in the waistband of your underwear and send a two-word text to your sister. Emergency Button.

Less than a minute later, your phone is ringing. You adopt what you hope is a confused expression as you glance at it. “It’s from my sister,” you mutter. “I better take this.” You pick up, breathing a mental sigh of relief knowing that you’ll have an excuse to leave very, very soon. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Dad–tal–ni–.” She’s both talking a hundred miles an hour and pretending the phone is breaking up, giving you several options for an escape. You’re so grateful you almost forget that you’re going to be questioned mercilessly by her later.

“Aurora, slow down. I can’t understand you and you’re breaking up,” you tell her, sneaking a glance at Mr. Onceler. He’s looking at you with genuine concern, so you think he’s buying it. Good. You just have to keep it up a little longer.

She pretends to try again, but keeps her words just as broken apart as before. You knuckle your left eye as if to rub out a headache. “Look, try and get in an area with better reception and call me back in like, ten minutes, okay?”

“Okay.” The line goes dead, and you sigh and look up at Mr. Onceler apologetically.

“Sorry, but I should probably go,” you say, praying he doesn’t put up too much of a fight. “She sounded pretty frantic, and from what little I could make out, I think she said something about our dad.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” Thank God. He’s bought it, and he’s not going to make a fuss over it. However, he’s making no effort to mask his disappointment. “I hope everything’s okay… do you need anything from me before you go?”

“Well, I can’t really walk outside in this–” you start, but he cuts you off.

“Oh! You can borrow a pair of sweats,” he says easily before tugging at the waistband of the pair he was currently wearing as if he meant to pull them off.

“No, no!” you say quickly. “That’s fine, I don’t want to take your stuff. I was just hoping you could… um… run back up to the bedroom and grab my skirt for me.” Your face is on fire once more, and you can’t look at him as you finish your request. It’s a wonder you manage to get the words out at all.

“Oh. Yeah, not a problem,” he agrees before flicking off the stove and dashing out of the room.

With him gone, you’re free to look for the bar to find your shirt and shoes. You know it’s an offshoot from the kitchen, but the sheer size of everything and the confusion of the night before still means it takes you a few minutes to gather all of your things. You only just barely make it back into the kitchen ahead of him.

He hands you your skirt and you manage to smile a thanks before slipping it on underneath the oversize shirt he’s lent you. The next part is the problem. You’d love for more privacy, but you told Aurora ten minutes, and you’d be lucky if she even gave you that much.

Carefully turning away, you slowly take off the T-shirt before buttoning up your blouse. You can feel his eyes on you the whole time. You know it’s stupid–he’s obviously already seen all of you–but you’re inexplicably self-conscious.

It’s not until you’re fully dressed that you finally look back at him. “I can drive you if you want,” he offers, and you feel so guilty at that hopeful look on his face.

“That’s fine. I’m very used to getting home on my own,” you say softly. Even though you’re desperate to leave, a small, traitorous, and yet, exceedingly loud part of your brain is begging to stay. “Besides, my sister should be calling me back soon,” you say, more as a reminder to yourself than anything else.

“Okay… well, still let me walk you to the door at least.” You suppose you could let him do that much.

True to his word, he leads you straight to the front door. “Get home safe,” he murmurs, leaning over you just slightly. Is he… oh no. He is.

He wants you to kiss him. His body language is making that beyond clear. Your only saving grace is that he’s not just going for it himself. He’s leaving the final decision up to you. The downside is that you really shouldn’t be making decisions when it comes to doing anything physical with this man.

On one hand, you very much enjoy kissing him. That was undeniable, and you weren’t going to waste your energy trying to convince yourself otherwise; it was pointless. And a part of you was arguing that just one more kiss couldn’t possibly make the situation any worse.

The far more rational part of you is saying that yes, the kiss could definitely make things worse. It could give him hope that this would be ongoing and not a one time thing. And this had to be a one time thing. You couldn’t afford something like this ever happening again. It should never have happened to begin with.

You can’t give him any more hope. You’ve already made too many bad decisions where he was concerned. You won’t make another.

“Goodbye,” you whisper as you duck under his arm and escape onto the road. You’re quick, but not quick enough to avoid seeing the crestfallen look on his face. It nearly crushes your resolve, but you grit your teeth and press on.

You barely make it down the block before your phone starts screaming, demanding your attention. Great. You knew you were going to be subjecting yourself to an assault from your sister, but that didn’t mean you were looking forward to it.

Begrudgingly, you pick up. “It’s safe,” you sigh in lieu of a proper greeting.

“Spill. Immediately,” Aurora demands. “Whose house did I just rescue you from?” No one could say your sister didn’t know you.

You wince. She’s going to be a nightmare. “Um… I kind of slept with my boss last night,” you whisper. You pause your walking, face screwed up in a grimace, as you brace for her explosive impact.

“Am I supposed to be surprised?” she finally asks after a few moments. “The only thing I’m confused about is why you needed me to get you out of there.”

You’re so perturbed, it actually spurs you into normal conversation. “Because you know perfectly well that I should not be sleeping with my boss,” you hiss. “And what do you mean you’re not surprised? A couple of weeks ago you said you’d be shocked if I started dating him.”

“I said I’d be shocked if you got caught in any kind of scandal,” she clarifies. “Sweetie, I’ve known for a long time you’ve had a thing for him. You’ve talked of precious little else for months now; it was not hard for me to connect the dots.”

You have no response to that, and even if you did, she’d just dismiss you anyway. “Well, I did do something scandalous. At least, it would be if anyone found out about it,” you finally say after a long while. “The media would no doubt have a field day if they figured out I slept with him.”

“Once you two start dating, just deny that anything happened while you were working for him,” Aurora said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Isn’t that what all the celebrities and other business tycoons do? They date people who used to work for them, but once they’re public about everything they always release a statement saying the person quit before anything happened. No one believes them, but they get away with it.”

“First of all, you’re assuming I want to date him, which I don’t,” you growl. “Second, that won’t work for us even if I did want to continue… this. I signed an ironclad NDA that says I’m not even supposed to contact him after my employment ends.”

“Contracts can change, that’s not an issue,” she huffs. “The first thing you said is what we’re going to focus on, because it was a straight-up lie.” You sputter out half-formed words of protest, but she shuts you up before you can get a coherent thought strung together. “You’ve never been a girl to sleep with someone unless there are emotions involved. Nothing wrong with doing that, of course, but that’s not you. It never had been. So if you don’t want to date him, why did you sleep with him?” 

That question makes you pause. You don’t want to be confronted with it and be forced to take a deep, introspective look at your own emotions, but Aurora isn’t giving you any other option here. It was time to face that question you’d been dreading more than any other: why did you sleep with him?

“He… intrigues me,” you start. “I do like him. Maybe, if our positions were different we could be more, but the fact is that he is my boss. I can’t ignore that, and I’m constantly reminded of that. No matter what you say, I will not come out looking good if we dated. I might never get another job again. This would follow me everywhere. I can’t take that risk.” You heave out a sigh before continuing. This was the part you’d been loathe to admit to yourself, much less out loud to another person. “But I can’t deny that there’s chemistry between us, that there’s this passion between us. It’s been building steadily over the past month or so, and last night, something just snapped. I knew about the consequences, but I just had to have the opportunity to call him mine, even if it was just for one night.”

Aurora was silent for a long time after that; you had to check to make sure the call didn't drop. You make it all the way to your (thankfully deserted) usual bus stop before she speaks again.

"Look, I don't have all the answers, especially not for the fact that he's in the public eye. But I do know my little sister, and I know that if you don't at least take a chance, you're going to regret that 'what if' for the rest of your life." You let out a shuddering breath as you take in her words. She's far from wrong but that doesn't mean your fears are assuaged. 

"I can't tell you what to do," she continues after she figures out you won't be saying anything more for the foreseeable future. "I can only offer my advice, which boils down to that I think you should go for it. But no matter what you decide, and no matter what follows, I'm on your side, alright?"

"I know," you say in a small voice. "You're the only one who's always on my side, no matter how much shit I get myself into."

"And I always will be," she promises. "Now, enough mush. We have something important to discuss." Her tone is suddenly much more business-like, and you're curious as to what she could possibly be referring to. "Where does he go on the list?"

"Auroraaaaa!" you screech right as the bus pulls up. Thankfully, it's not busy on a lazy Saturday morning. You take a seat at the very back as she cackles in your ear. She knows how much you hate that question.

For years now, she's kept a running list of how you rank your partners, from best performance to worst. You never like to answer, yet she somehow always manages to wheedle one out of you. The worst part is you have no form of comparable payback; your sister is very much aro/ace and has known it since she was a young teenager.

"I'm not answering that," you declare, being mindful to keep your voice lowered and not use his name now that you're in public.

"Oooooooh, that good, huh?" she trills. "Or that bad? Oh, I hope for your sake he wasn't that bad."

"I'm not answering," you repeat stubbornly, inadvertently giving an answer anyway.

"Okay, so he's either the very top of the list or the very bottom. Which one is it?" she demands. You stay silent, which you know frustrates her to no end. "For the love of all that is unholy I swear I will harass you until you tell me," she threatens. Oh, she means it. You know she means or. That doesn't mean you want to give her the answer. "I'm not getting off this call until you tell me. Now. Top. Or. Bottom?"

You're going to kill her. You swear, next time you see her, you're going to kill her dead. "Top," you spit out before hanging up so you don't have to hear her gloat.

You hate her sometimes.

[apotodiplodocus]

You're My Idol!

Gyutaro X Reader

Chapter 2

The day was going shit. First Ume got into a fight at school which dragged him out of work and then the brat decided to go for round 2 the second she saw the other girl again. He managed to pull her away just barely and he scolded her on the way home. She had a rebuttal for everything except when he asked her why she was so insistent on making his job so hard, which all she had to say was that the girl was badmouthing him. He felt bad for scolding her harshly and he was pissed at the girl for speaking bad about him even if he did think he was everything she said he was. He didn’t say anything back to Ume just huffed in annoyance, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He had realised they needed some necessities and decided to stop by the grocery store. He knew, however, if he brought Ume in with him, she’d eventually talk him into buying her things she didn’t need so he told her to wait outside. He grabbed a basket and quickly stalked through the aisles, ignoring people’s shocked gasps and fearful movements. At some point, he went around a corner and started walking past a woman fitting something into her trolley, only for her to bump into him. Gyutaro was already in a bad mood, the heat was driving him insane, so much so he even had to forgo his usual large hoodie, so this woman bumping into his bare arm sent a shock through him. She seemed unfazed other than apologetic, quickly spinning to apologize and even looking him dead in the eye, something not even authority figures would do. This weirded him out, so he was tempted to just walk away until he actually paid attention to her voice and eyes. Something seemed so familiar, like he’d seen and heard them a million times but with the mask and hat covering most of her features he decided against asking any questions.

“… Watch out next time.” Walking away to continue his shopping, he didn’t even look back at her. But she stayed on his mind through his shopping and through his walk home with Ume. She rambled about a woman that had bought her an ice cream and they chatted. Something like Minori? He wasn’t sure, still too preoccupied with trying to remember where he had seen those eyes before. Soon enough they were home and he put away what he had gotten from the supermarket. He immediately went to his room and ripped his shirt off, misting his chest with a spray bottle and turning on his fan to cool himself down. The relief was temporary but very necessary, especially when the relief caused a breakthrough and he leapt to his feet, heart hammering in his chest.

There was no way.

Eyes wide and arms twitching, he reaches into a drawer of his ratty old dresser, shuffling bits of clothing to the side to find his stash of merch. His guilty pleasure, an idol band. In the centre? Those fucking eyes that had haunted him since she touched his skin. It began to itch where she touched, a searing almost painful itch as his mind finally came to accept that his favourite of this group had been in the same store, the same aisle and had even touched him. The smooth voice he had been accustomed to had apologised to him and her eyes had held no hesitance or fear when she looked at him. His knees almost felt weak, she had been right there. He was infuriated that he hadn’t recognised her sooner, he could have touched her hair, talked to her even. She might have even talked back considering how she looked unfazed by him. He groans and tries to remember as much as he could, her hair looked silky, if a little sweaty, her eyes sparkled when she apologised, and the little of her much smaller body that bumped him felt shapely. He suddenly remembers the strong smell of the candle she had been holding and how she somehow already smelled of it, he could still smell the cherry and vanilla as if it were on him. Hell, maybe it was! Transferred to his skin or shirt.

Well now he was paralyzed, should he shower? But what if it washed away the smell of her? But they had a show later that night and he’d be damned if he ever accidentally met them again and he smelled like shit. He groans again fingernails scratching down the length of his neck, bright red lines left behind, the least of his worries. He had been to every show, gotten any merch of you he could, often saving up what little he could afford to. He was only interested in the stuff with her on it, he didn’t bother with stuff that involved the whole group unless you were front and centre which made it easier on his wallet. He decides to shower and maybe just maybe he’ll go to the meet and greet. Probably not though, she’d probably recognise him as the rude guy from the supermarket. He goes about his routine, cleaning himself up a bit and getting redressed before he remembers the fact that Ume doesn’t know about his obsession. He has never told her and is hellbent on her never finding out, knowing she’d tease the ever-loving shit out of him for the rest of his life, especially considering his usual taste was alternative, heavy metal and punk. How the fuck would he get away to watch the show?

Pulling up the details of the show again he realises that it’s a bar venue and he can go under the guise of getting something to eat. He’ll mourn his wallet afterwards, but he won’t be able to go to the concerts anymore once the group switches over to full stadium concerts. He can’t miss this chance.

“Ume! Get fuckin’ ready, we’re goin’ out tonight.” He calls, barely opening his bedroom door. He hears her squeal excitedly.

“Where? Where?!” Going out was an incredibly rare treat so Ume was bouncing with excitement.

“Just a bar nearby, don’t wanna go too far.” He replies acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Ume doesn’t even care, she’s just excited that she’ll get to go somewhere with most likely, better food than Gyutaro can cook.

“OK! When?” Gyutaro looks at his phone.

“In… Like an hour?” Closing his door afterwards, he hears her squeak and yell at him for the short notice. He just snickers to himself, re-arranging his merch before covering it again. He puts on some deodorant and then just spends the rest of his time playing games. When Ume is ready and it’s time to go, Gyutaro is almost reluctant. Suddenly wanting to back out as if he hadn’t gone to see you before. He pushes through it though, walking with Ume to the bar a few blocks away.

He has to pretend to be surprised when they get stopped at the door and informed there was a band playing so they needed to pay an entrance fee. Ume started to feel disappointed, thinking her brother would refuse, maybe even get into a fight, but she’s pleasantly surprised when he just hands the money over. Immediately she starts thinking of why. Was she dying? Was he dying? Did he kill someone and needed her to help him hide the body? She would never have guessed it was because he wanted to see the group performing.

When they entered the bar, the performance hadn’t started yet and they sat at a table a mid-distance away. They ordered comfortably and Gyutaro sat listening to Ume chat about her day, disregarding the fight she’d had, she fills him in on all the drama that she was either keeping an eye on, starting or a part of. Which was a lot. Gyutaro found it funny how much chaos she would cause. Not too long later, the show starts and Gyutaro has to fight back reacting to you at all. The theme for this show was alternative, dark clothing with mesh and spikes. His eyes were glued to you for a time. You had mesmerised him; this was the first time he’d seen you in this style of clothing and it was definitely doing something to him. He had to forcefully drag his gaze away from you, and back to Ume thinking she’d catch him, but she was also mesmerised by the group. When she caught Gyutaro’s eyes she acted like she hadn’t been looking to begin with. She begins chatting away again and only stops when the food arrives. She goes silent and only focuses on the food, giving Gyutaro the opportunity to look at the group again, the food semi-forgotten. He watches you spin and jump in such an alluring way. Unable to keep his eyes off you once again, he studies your movement, recognising that you look a bit tired today and he can’t help but wonder why.

By the end of the concert, Gyutaro had completely forgotten about the food and Ume was using the fact he was distracted to eat what was on his plate. When the curtains closed on stage, he finally looked at his plate and saw Ume mid-snatch of some fries.

“Oh, c’mon Ume.” He growls lowly.

“Not my fault you were too busy staring at those girls!” She responds, “I was just making sure the food wouldn’t go uneaten!” She says and then she gets that gleam in her eye all teenagers get when they are about to tease the shit out of you. He groans as she starts teasing him about his interest in the girl group, asking if he had a favourite and what he would do if one of them walked up to them.

“Whatever Ume, I’m gonna go piss.” He quickly stands and heads towards a bathroom but instead pushes his way outside through a fire exit to get some air. He stops when he hears a whimper. His head whips to look and the first thing he sees is a guy licking a woman’s face. He doesn’t even bother to see more feeling disgusted with the couple, grunting he turns away.

“Ugh, fuckin’ disgustin’ both a’ya. Get a fuckin’ room.” He says loudly stomping back in, hand in his pockets.

“H-Help! Please!” He stops before the door shuts, holding it open as he peaks his upper body around the door to look again when he recognises your face. Fury consumes him when he recognises the fear in your eyes and how the man is viciously clamping a hand on your mouth. He can see now that he was in the middle of assaulting you and stomps out ignoring the man yelling at him to leave. Gyutaro aggressively attacks the man, both verbally and physically only stopping when Ume grabs him. He stops struggling when he smells Ume’s perfume to not throw her down but keeps his eyes on the man on the floor. He can vaguely hear you two say each other’s names, but over the blood rushing in his ears and his heart hammering in his chest – from rage or excitement, he can’t tell – he’s having a hard time processing it. It takes a moment for him to compose himself, spitting on the man.

“Disgustin’ bastard thinks s’OK to attack women.” He thinks about spitting again but the realisation that his sister is acquainted with his sister floors him. He’s never been so glad he hasn’t opened up about his obsession with the singer, knowing Ume would have immediately told, even if she didn’t mean to. He’s horrified enough that you know each other already.

“You know her?” He removes himself from Ume’s arms, and Ume starts to explain. A groan from the floor makes Gyutaro realise this isn’t the best place for a conversation and stops her mid-sentence.

“Wait let’s talk about this somewhere else.” He kicks the man in the ribs for good measure, delighting in the view of the man quickly ducking into the foetal position. He doesn’t wait to see if you both follow him, sitting back at their table freaking out internally that he was going to have to act like he barely knew you. Does he mention that he bumped into her at the grocery store? Would that freak you out that he recognised you? He wipes some blood and drool off his hands onto his pants as he watches the two of you approach.

“Brother, what if he tells?” Ume hisses as she slides into her seat. He takes a second to watch you stand by the table, there were a couple of extra seats, why weren’t you sitting?

“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll just leave when he wakes up that is.” He suppresses a giggle at the thought.

“I really appreciate the help, but I have to go tell my manager what just happened. If it’s not too much trouble, could you both wait for like half an hour? I’d like to personally thank you.” You smile at them radiantly and Gyutaro really has to fight to not show any hint of a blush. His hands clench and unclench as he tries to respond but Ume beats him to it, casting a suspicious glance at him.

“Yeah, we’ll wait. We need to talk.” So with that, you wander off backstage again.

“So brother. Want to tell me what that was all about?” She smiles like the Cheshire cat, resting her head in her hand.

“What?” He replies suppressing his nerves.

“You know what! What’s so special about Minori?” She interrogates haughtily.

“Minori? Wait she called you Daki, why’s she calling you that stupid fuckin’ nickname?” He fires back.

“Yeah Minori, that’s her name. Obviously, I wasn’t gonna tell her my real name when we met it was weird! Anyway! Don’t change the subject.” Gyutaro bristles at his failed attempt but can’t help but feel a bit of pride that his sister did something smart.

“Hate to break it to ya but her name isn’t Minori.” He balks as he realises he shouldn’t know that. “It said at the beginning of the show, her name was (Y/N).” But Ume narrows her eyes.

“Not it didn’t!” She retorts, leaning back and crossing her arms. She had been paying attention at that point and knew that didn’t happen. Gyutaro panics and scrambles to come up with a lie.

“I’m sure it did and even if it didn’t I saw it on a poster outside.” He tries to act naturally and lean back himself. The conversation is stopped when from a mic, presumably backstage and accidentally left on screeches.

“WHAT?!” Booms a man’s voice.

“Wait!” He hears you yell as you seem to rush past the mic. Gyutaro watches as a white-haired man explodes past the curtain straight to the alley the drunk was lying in. As the door shuts behind him, Gyutaro hears muffled yelling. You have followed and he now keeps his eyes on you as you hesitantly approach the door. You quickly slip past the door. The white-haired man is ranting and raving about daring to touch one of his group with such unflashy hands but it becomes muffled again as the door closes behind you. Not even a second later though, the poor door is slammed open, and the white-haired man is dragging the drunk out by his collar, not caring if people watch. Ume and Gyutaro just watch as this all goes down and see staff running to see what the disturbance is, demanding answers from whom Gyutaro assumes is your manager.

His attention is drawn away from the scene as you approach their table sheepishly.

“Sorry you had to see that, it’s a bit embarrassing.” You smile again.

“It’s no problem! We love this sort of stuff, it’s fun.” Ume smiles back. Gyutaro kicks her lightly under the table.

“Ah, I see.” You don’t look uncomfortable luckily. “As for how to repay you, I don’t know where to start! I could get you tickets to our next show? Take you out for dinner? Buy you something?” You sit down now, taking a hand each of the siblings. “What would you like? If I can get it for you I will.” You grin at them, stars in your eyes. Gyutaro doesn’t know what to say, nothing coming to mind other than the feeling of your hand on his. The only thing his brain is coming up with is a date or something not too safe for work, his face heating up as he tries to act aloof.

Meanwhile, he can tell Ume is thinking about everything under the sun, new make-up, new clothes, more nights out, so many she was struggling to pick.

“Or! If you can’t decide yet how about an I.O.U? I can give you my number and you can call me when you think of something.” Gyutaro’s eyes widen.

“That’ll do.” He says quickly before Ume can even open her mouth. Ume shoots him an amused look.

“OK! No problem,” You quickly scribble down your number and pass it to Gyutaro. You’re looking at him with such familiarity. “Have I seen you before? I swear I have.” You inquire gently. Gyutaro stiffens, still debating whether to act like he has no clue or confirm.

“Um… I think you bumped into me at the shop?” He replies lowly and your face lights up in recognition, before turning pink.

“Oh! I remember now, sorry I bumped into you. How did you know it was me?” Your question.

“Uh, I recognise your voice.” He says simply, only just keeping his eyes on yours. You smile.

“You have nice eyes.” You state and it surprises you, clearly. Your eyes widen and you stammer a little bit. “Both of you! I meant both of you!” You’ve turned red and hastily stood up, finally letting go of their hands.

“I need to go! Um, please don’t hesitate if you think of anything. Goodbye, hope I see you again.” You run off, still red, Gyutaro watches you until you slip behind the curtain yet again.

They don’t hang around much longer, so they don’t have anything to do with the investigation that’ll come from the beating Gyutaro dished out. Gyutaro didn’t want to push his luck with the meet and greet. When they finally make it home Gyutaro immediately goes to his room and locks it, not waiting for Ume to start teasing him. He punches in the number you gave him and then deposits it with his merch of you. Your handwriting a prize he didn’t expect to receive.

[nuggeett875]

Unbroken Promises-Derek Hale (p2)

4 years ago…

“Derek, I’m serious let go.” Delilah let out through laughter. “I don’t know Del, cause you don’t sound too serious.” The young teen responded as he continued to tickler her sides. “Don’t make me call Laura.” 

Derek gasped and playfully pushed her, “Wow, dirty move Miss. Davids.” The two fell back on his bed looking at eachother, huge smiles on both their faces. “What?” Delilah asked as she rolled on her side and started playing with Derek’s hair.

“Nothing, I’m just…happy.” His smile widened before they heard a knock at the door. “Little miss why are you still up?” Derek asked sitting up. In the doorway stood a 7 year-old Cora with a blanket in hand. 

“Der-bear I can’t sleep.” She said, melting Delilah’s heart. Delilah looked at Derek smiling to which he rolled his eyes and walked over to Cora scooping her up and walking her back to his bed. 

He sat down on the bed placing her in the middle and wrapping her in the blankets. “Sleep tight kiddo.” He kissed her forehead and layed next to her waiting until she fell asleep. Which happened to be not long after.

Delilah smiled at this and got up walking across the room to grab her bag. Reaching inside she pulled out her phone and took a quick photo of this moment before Derek’s mother, and at sometimes a mother figure to Delilah, Taliah walked in.

“Derek have you seen-” She looked to see her youngest sleeping on her son’s shoulder. “I see she found her way in here? When are you going to stop letting her sleep in here Derek? She has her own room for a reason.” Taliah asked with a smile walking over to pick up Cora.

“When i’m off to college, until then my little sister can crash in here.” He smiled up at his mom. “Alright then. Delilah honey are you staying over? You’re more than welcome to.” She asked the young girl.

“I actually have to head home, my mom is closing up the Diner late and needs me to finish some things around the house. Thank you though.” Taliah smiled and kissed Derek on the head before walking out with a sleeping Cora.

Derek sighed and stood up walking over to his girlfriend, “You want me to take you home?” He asked wrapping his arms around her. “Der I have my car here you’d have to walk back alone and I don’t want that. I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.” 

She placed a kiss on his lips before pulling him into a hug, “I love you too.” He whispered in her ear before she left, making her way downstairs. 

…………………………………………….

Once at home Delilah rushed upstairs to her room and threw open her dresser feeling around. After a few seconds of searching she pulled out the object that had her mind in a fog. Sitting on her bed she started at the positive test in her hands.

“What are we going to do?” She asked herself placing a hand on her stomach. When she first found out her heart stopped. She sobbed till her mother found her upstairs and instantly knew what had happened. Delilah started repeatedly apologizing to her mother but was cut off by Jane wrapping her arms around her daughter and shushing her cries. 

“It’s alright, I’m here for you and the baby. It’s okay Lilah we’ll figure it out.” The rest of the night was spent that way, Delilah crying into her mother’s shoulder while she whispered words of relief. 

Now after thinking and having time to herself she was happy, and even excited about what was to come. She was having a baby, a mix of her and Derek, and this was the part that made her most happy.

She now had to figure out a way to tell Derek but she knew she had to tell him soon, and had planned on doing it tomorrow after school. 

So the next day as she drove to school she rested her hand on her stomach and repeated what she would say to Derek over and over again. Finally parking she took a deep breath and looked up seeing said boyfriend waiting for her at the bench.

“Hey you.” She said walking over and sitting next to him. “Hello gorgeous.” He placed a kiss on her cheek and reached out for her hand. “So big game tonight, school rivals, how do you feel?” She asked rubbing her thumb over his hand. 

“Honestly, really good. The team has been practicing hard and I think we’re gonna blow them out of the water tonight.” Derek smiled already excited for the game. “Well win or loose, i’m with you. Besides I have some news that will hopefully make your night even better. But you can’t know until after the game.” 

Derek groaned and threw his head back. “Well that’s all I’m going to think about from now until then. Thanks babe.” Delilah laughed and kissed his cheek before standing up and pulling him with her. “Come one we have class, don’t want Finstock giving us a hard time.”

…………………………………………….

Throughout the whole day Derek had been practically beggind Delilah to tell him the big news, but each time she would just smiles and say he had to wait for tonight. So here they were, Delilah cheering for Derek and his team mates in their game. 

76-74. Devonford was up and there was 50 seconds left in the game. The ball was Beacon’s posesion and was quickly moving down the court towards Derek, time seemed to stop as he took a dribble to collect himself then shot the ball up from the 3.

As the ball sunk in the basket Beacon’s crowd went crazy jumping and screaming, all while Delilah ran onto the court jumping into Derek’s arms who spun her around. “Congratulations Der, how’s it feel.” Laura asked as she walked up to the couple, “Feel’s amazing. Won the game, have my girlfriend with me, and now I get to hear some pretty big new-”

Yes there was big news, but not the one Derek or Delilah was expecting.

An officer walked up to Derek, Laura, and Delilah pulling them outside the gym to be alone, he had explained to them that there had been a fire at their house and that the only person to make it out was Peter, though he was severly injured. 

Derek and Laura fell to the ground, the older one screaming as her brother wrapped his arms around her pulling her to him tight, tears streaming down his face. Delilah quickly kneeled besideds him and wrapped her arms around his neck allowing him to cry into her shouler. 

It seemed as if they were there forever but eventually the police officer had taken them to the station. Delilah gave Derek one last hug before her mother came and picked her up, tears streaming down her face at the news of one of her best friends Taliah passing away in the fire. 

When they got home Delilah and her mother sat on the couch holding each other quietly wishing this was all a bad dream.

Delilah’s hand rested on her stomach at the thought of her baby never meeting their father’s family. Their father, Derek! She never got to tell Derek, of course now the thought of telling him would no longer be an incredible event, but he still needed to know. 

She would go visit him tomorrow and tell him the news, tell him and Laura they still had family. 

But that never happened, Delilah went to see Derek but was told that Laura had taken him from Beacon Hills to see some family friends. Delilah started crying, she grabbed her phone and called Derek.

After leaving the 17th message and 40th text she new that he was gone. She prayed that she would see him soon and that he would be there with her and with their baby, but for the next 4 years��she kept the same wish. 

…………………………………………….

sorry this is long I know, ngl cried when I wrote about them finding out but it’s late so what can I say. hope you enjoy this story as this is only the begining, more chapters coming soon and will get into Season 2 of Teen Wolf. 

for now thank you for reading this book here’s a sneak peak of what’s to come. 

-nugg

…………………………………………….

“Eli, Lia breakfast!” Delilah called to wherever her kids were. She was about to call again but felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, “I think they were with Isaac last I checked, so we have some time.” Derek told her pressing a kiss to her shoulder then cheek. 

Delilah smiled and turned around kissing him deeply before pulling away at the sounder of laugher and slight screams. They looked and saw Eli and Taliah chasing Isaac around who would scoop up one of them and tickle them before doing the same with the other twin. He had truly taken a liking to being a big brother. “Alright you three time to eat.” Isaac picked up both the twins, Eli hanging upside down and laughing. 

He placed Taliah on a stool as Derek came over and grabbed Eli setting him right side up and doing the same. “Mama, can we have cake for lunch?” Eli asked to which she gave him the ‘mom’ look and shook her head, “No, my silly boy you can’t have cake for lunch.” 

Eli looked at Taliah and whispered something in her ear before sitting back in his seat. Taliah turned to Derek and climbed over having him pick her up, “Daddy, can we have cake for lunch, please?” She asked drawing out the please. 

Delilah looked at Derek as if to say ‘don’t give in’ but he looked at his daughter who had a complete hold over him since the moment he saw her. “How about, after dinner you two can share a slice of cake? Does that work.” 

The twins looked at each other and nodded before Taliah placed a kiss on Derek’s cheek and moved back to sit in her seat. Delilah looked at Derek and handed him a plate before whispering in his ear, “Weak.” She smirked at him and he laughed playfully pushing her away. 

“Does that mean I get cake too?” Isaac asked raising his hand before stealing Eli’s strawberry. Delilah laughed, “Yes Izzy you get cake too. And stop stealing your brother’s food, there’s a plate right infront of you.” Isaac laughed and sarcastically said back, “Yes mom.” 

Derek nodded his head, “Exactly, Isaac, where do you get this from?” He asked before walking behind Delilah and stealing a grape. 

…………………………………………….

[gaystay]

Imagine Bumping Into You- Daichi

I wrote the basic story for an english class and decided it sounded like Daichi so

You huffed as the train swayed violently, your left hand starting to cramp from hanging onto the pole. Shoes squeaked on the floor as people shuffled to keep their balance on the lurching train. With your left hand you hung onto your papers for dear life, praying that the rattling of the train wouldn't cause you to drop them.

The train slowed suddenly, jerking you backwards, but you clung to the pole. Finally the train rattled to a stop. The doors opened, allowing a trickle of people to get off. You scuttled out of the way of a party of tourists who noisily rustled through maps as they pushed onto the train. You huddled against the pole, leafing through your reading for Lit class. You had to finish it because tomorrow you would be assigned your first partner project of the year and you wanted to be prepared so you could make a good impression on your new partner.

The train lurched again, causing you to sway and clutch the pole again as the train rolled out of the station. You relaxed after a minute or so of smooth transit and started to look through your papers again. But of course, the moment you started to read again, the train picked up speed and began to rock back and forth again. Your breath hitched as the top paper from the stack began to fall, but you managed to catch it against the side of the leg. However, just as you breathed a sigh of relief, something smacked into your chest. Something big.

A second later you were flat on your back, dazed, aching. Your papers were strewn across the train floor, and you grumbled as you sat up. The young man who had knocked you over scrambled to his feet "I'm so sorry, are you ok?" He blurted out, offering a hand to help you up. You glared at him. "Am I ok? You just slammed me against the fucking floor! You trying to break my back or something?" You pushed his outstretched hand away, sitting up on your knees and reaching for the papers closest to you. He hurriedly stooped and gathered the rest of the pages, muttering, "Here, let me help." You scowled but didn't stop him.

After picking them all up he stood, offering you his hand again. You looked up at him, and for the first time you actually focused on his face. He had short dark hair and warm brown eyes, which at present were crinkled with concern, his brow furrowed. He flushed a little as you looked at him. It was almost sweet, the way he was trying to be a gentleman after knocking you over and making you lose all your papers. It was almost cute. But no, you were still mad at him.

Even so, the way he was looking down at you made you a little self conscious. You remembered what you must look like now, with your unbrushed hair tossed up in a sloppy bun. Your bangs were frizzy and sticking out at odd angles, and your body was drowning in a ratty old sweatshirt and pajama pants. You felt the tips of your ears heating up. You didn't dress up to go to the library, which is where you had been coming back from, but you did dress up to go to school.

You were a very conscientious dresser and hated the idea of people seeing you vulnerable, so every facet of your appearance was always carefully groomed. You absolutely refused to let your classmates see you looking any less than your best, since some of them were very judgemental and you'd never hear the end of it. This boy was a stranger, so looking the way you did shouldn't bother you, and yet you burned with embarrassment at letting him see you like this. A second later, you remembered you had been staring and quickly took his hand. He pulled you up gently. He was stronger than he looked, and had no trouble getting you to your feet. He gave you an awkward little smile, handing your papers to you carefully.

"Thanks..." you muttered. His smile widened. "Of course. I really am sorry about that, you know." You looked away, suddenly feeling guilty about yelling at him earlier. "Yeah, uh... it's fine. Don't worry about it. And sorry about that earlier." He chuckled a bit at your grudging expression. "Ah, it's ok." He gave you another quick smile and turned away. You went back to your reading, every once in a while looking up from the papers to stare at his back. You weren't even sure why you did it, something about him just caught your attention. Sadly, he got off a few stops later.

The next day at school

You pushed open the door of your first period Lit class. You grimaced a little as you walked, knowing there was a good sized bruise hidden under your shiny skirt and tights. You were feeling much better about yourself today. Your hair was combed and shiny, and your clothes were unwrinkled. A few classmates waved to you, complimenting your shoes, your blouse, your makeup. That was how it usually went, so you were used to it.

"Y/NNN!" Your best friend hollered. You waved. She hustled over and latched onto your arm. "How was your weekend bestieeee?" "I've had better," you griped. "Some guy knocked me over on the train yesterday, made me drop all my papers." Your friend raised her eyebrows. "Was he cute?" You looked away, not wanting to answer. "Aahh! Your ears are turning red! He was cute!" She squealed, poking at your side. "What did he look like? Tell me tell me!" You flushed even more and waved your hands at her, trying to shush her. "It wasn't like that! He just helped me pick up my stuff and that was it!" She gave you a disbelieving look. "Oh come on now, don't tell me you weren't a little curious about him." You opened your mouth to answer,but blessedly your professor interrupted, calling for everyone's attention.

"Alright you lot, settle down." He said  waving for silence. "Now as you know, today I'm going to be assigning you a get-to-know-you project. Since it's the start of the year, it's not really for a grade so much as to meet people, so with that in mind, I'll be picking your partners today." He paused, letting the class grumble for a few seconds. "Yeah yeah, nobody likes assigned partners, but we're just gonna go with it for this project, ok?" He pulled out a list and began reading pairs of names.

"Finally... Y/N and Daichi." You looked up. That was a name you hadn't heard before. Somebody new then. You made a face at your friend before looking around, trying to find this "daichi" guy, when-

The boy from the train was staring at you from across the room. He was the only other person not already in a group. How could you not have noticed? He was in your class the whole time??? Your friend nudged you. "Y/n, you're staring. Do you know the guy or smth?" You snapped back into focus, whispering, "that's the guy! The guy from yesterday! The one from the train!" Her eyes widened. "He is cute!" You glared at her. She only winked, before running off to her assigned partner. You looked away as Daichi came over and sat across from you, giving you a friendly smile. You couldn't meet his eyes. From across the room, your best friend screamed, "LOOK! HER EARS ARE TURNING RED AGAIN!"

[straykidsnerd255]

Please may I have a Fruits Basket scenario of when parenthood is obviously exhausting sometimes and it was for Yuki and his wife *you* and they have two young children..Grace who is 3 years old and Greige who is a year old. Yuki was away at work and Grace decided to try and pull down a jar of jam from the table as you were doing the cooking with Greige strapped to your back and you noticed to see Grace pulling the tablecloth and a bottle of vinegar was about to topple dangerously over her within minutes and you caught it just in time before it hurt her and then there was when Grace was climbing the chest of drawers during a "climbing adventure" and it was about to fall when you were doing the ironing (Greige was watching you with curious eyes from the playpen) and you thankfully grabbed your daughter just in time and stopped the chest of drawers with your slippered foot..that was close and you were absolutely bewildered on how the hell Grace managed to make so much mess in the living room in the late afternoon (Greige was asleep in his crib in the room that you and your husband shared) when you had to clean the bathroom and there was no way that you were exposing your children to the toxic fumes. There was other troubles then..Grace had a morbid fascination of running straight into busy traffic when it was Yuki's turn to watch the children and Yuki (Greige was strapped to his chest in a baby sling and asleep) was bloody thankful when Kyo happened to be walking to work stopped her from actually killing herself...

Here you go! Hope you enjoy this and sorry it took so long to get out!!

You cooed as your son patted your back with his tiny hands as you moved around the kitchen getting dinner ready. You were trying to get everything on the table before Yuki got home in an hour or so, when out of the corner of your eye, you saw your sweet daughter, Grace, reaching for the jam that sat in the middle of the table just behind the bottle of vinegar. You yelped and reached forward, grabbing Grace’s arms and pulling her away from the table. “Grace, don’t do that, honey. I don’t want you to get hurt.” You mumbled, checking over her to make sure nothing actually hurt her.

Later in the evening, you had placed Greige in the play pin in the living room while your daughter decided to start climbing the dresser that sat in the corner of the room. Hearing the wood shift a bit, you turned your head to see your daughter near toppling in the corner of your eye. You darted from where you were ironing Yuki’s work shirt and managed to catch your daughter and stop the dresser with your foot. You sigh in relief and hold your giggling daughter close to your chest. “Grace, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that. It's dangerous.” You said booping your daughter's nose. 

Finally, you had managed to place both your daughter and son to sleep after hours of Grace racing around the living room making a mess. You ran your fingers through your hair and took a deep breath as you slumped onto the couch. You grabbed the remote and turned the tv on. You scrolled through the channels before landing on the cooking channel. You placed the remote on the table and sunk back into the couch, waiting for Yuki to finish his shower and get ready for bed. 

The next morning, after Yuki had left for work, you decided to get the bathroom cleaned. As you were cleaning, you realized that the fumes coming from the cleaning would potentially harm your kids. You moved to the window and quickly opened the window and smiled before returning back to cleaning the bathroom. Once finished, it was around lunch time and you could hear your two kids calling to you because they were hungry. 

Yuki couldn’t believe that you had to deal with this every single day. He had finally got a Saturday off and offered to watch the kids while you took a day to yourself. It didn’t take long for him to realize just how crazy your daughter was. Greige was currently strapped to his chest and he was holding Grace’s hand while the three of them went window shopping. As he was pointing something out to Grace, she managed to slip her hand from his and dart for the road. 

She was almost on the road when a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her back before a car raced past honking the horn. Kyo flipped the driver off before picking Grace up. Grace knew she was in trouble the minute her uncle looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Grace, you cannot run into the road like that. You can get hurt and what would your mother and father do if something happened to you?” Kyo said, walking back over to Yuki who was panicking beyond belief. 

You and Yuki never left Grace unattended again.

[daryldixonsdoormat]

idk if ur still writing Outsider fics but if you do, i would DIE, i mean die begging on my knees for HCs of ur favs (Two, Darry + Steve and soda if your willing) of the reader flashing them during an argument idk why its so funny but man i think its hilarious and the boys’ reaction would be so funny

OMFG YESSSSS, I LOVE THIS. I'm doing the 'adults'. Which would be Darry, Twobit, Sodapop, and Steve. also mini stroy for each and headcannons because ive been so absent.

Warnings: implied sexual themes, steamy situations (nothing crazy)

Darry ( the actual love of my life).

~ “You dont ever think” he cuts in with a tired sigh, attempting to not raise his voice. “Darry, you gotta be fucking kidding me, I think more than anybody in this house there is no way your saying that to me”. “I am and I mean it, you need to be more careful and stop worrying–” you interrupt him quickly stepping closer to him and sticking as finger up. “Darrel Curtis don’t you raise your voice at me like im one of your siblings”. Darry groans loudly throwing his hands up obviously not letting this silly argument go easily. “I just wish you would—” you lift your shirt up flashing Darry silencing him immediately. Darry walks over to you his calloused hands sitting on your waist, “Darling this conversation isn’t over even when you try and distract me” he looks at you smugly with his eyebrows raised. You reply with the same smugness bringing a hand to the back of his neck to pull him inevitability closer, “worth a shot though”.

~ definitely doesn't let arguments go easily , but he definitely loves that mini distraction and some stress relief (ifykyk).

Steve Randle (Goofy ass mf)

“Steve I don’t know why this is a big deal to you honey” you say in a calm and settle voice trying to calm him down. To your dismay he is still not happy about the situation at all, “No you can’t just throw stuff out like that, what if I still wanted it? Then what?”. You rub your hands down your face unamused by his ridiculous behavior, “Steve that shit has been sitting out for days now, I would’nt of let you eat it anyways”. Steve starts pacing back and forth in the kitchen thinking of something to say to “win”, then a new idea comes to mind which will end this banter once and for all. “Are you still mad Steve?”, he turns around abruptly “of course im still mad—”. Your shirt is lifted up giving Steve a good view for a few more seconds before you drop the fabric down, “how about now?”. Steves lips are parted still looking in the same direction where your breasts were once on full display, he glances up, “what you say baby?”. “Come here Steve”, Steve walks over his hands grabbing your face about to kiss your lips, “I’ll make you more ok?”. Steve pecks your lips a few times before replying, “Ok baby”.

~ he will probably purposely start arguments so you can flash him more often, obviously you'll catch on and ignore his attempts.

Dallas Winston (mama im in love with a criminal)

Dally pulled you into his room at Buck’s obviously pissed over a encounter downstairs. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me over, I could’ve easily handled that fucker” he says holding onto your wrist you guys nearly face to face. You pull back from him forcing him to release the grip he had on you, “He was just having  a conversation with me Dallas. Whats your problem?”. Dally runs his fingers through his hair while backing up instinctively, “ That motherfucker was practically undressing you with his eyes. Let me see him even glance at you again I swear y/n”. Dally turns around and slams his hands on his dresser with his head down. Your fed up, Dally is fed up why not end this right now, you walk up behind him and tap his shoulder. “What?” he says still not looking at you, quickly you throw off your shirt as well as your bra, “Dally can you look at me baby?”. Dally sighs but complies none-the-less, a smirk graces his face beautifully as his hands make contact with your chest. “Trying to cheer me up doll?” you kiss him deeply making Dally stumble back a little. “Im always yours Dally not some random guy”.

~ poor thing is always so jealous and protective over his girl.

Sodapop Curtis ( I want to be that towel)

You canceled plans on Soda, work asked you to stay late, the more hours the better especially because some of that money is going toward Sodas family. You walk into the empty Curtis house where only the shower is running, Sodas clothes are laid on the couch. You sigh and drop your bag down, taking off your shoes and getting into comfier clothes. The water stops running, you walk over to the door and knock on it softly, “Soda? Can I talk to you honey?”. The bathroom door opens showcasing Soda with just a towel wrapped around his waist, “Sure hopefully you wont cancel our conversation next”. He walks past you and into his room rifling through his drawers for socks and a pair of boxers, you tread behind him leaning on the door frame. “I took the extra hours so I could help you and your family” Soda groans because he knows he shouldnt be upset over it. “I know but I can still be disappointed, we havent been able to be alone for weeks now”. You smile lifting your shirt over your head about to ask him to turn around, “Come on Soda can you at least look at me?” you say walking up closer to him. Soda turns around sighing, his eyes widens and he stutters over his words a little at the surprise, “Baby, you look..gorgeous”. Soda hold you by the sides and smiles, “Wanna spend some alone time with me y/n?”.

~Sodapop definitely values quality time

[silvermistcosmos]

▬▬  enhypen’s reaction to their s/o not saying ‘I love you’ back [hyung line] 

PAIRING. enhypen’s hyung line x reader 

GENRE. fluff // reaction 

WARNINGS. n/a 

A/N. the maknae line version has been posted here 

# Heeseung

"Okay, I'll be right back. I love you!" Heeseung called out, about to close the door, but when you just replied with an, "Okay bubs, drive safe!" He stopped in his tracks.

"What did you say?" He questioned with a raised brow, coming back inside and closing the door.

"I said...drive safe?"

"But I said I love you." He pouted, making his way over to you, resting at the edge of the bed where you sat.

"I know...I love me too" You smiled jokingly, poking his cheek, "Now go on before rush hour!"

"Nope," he proceeded to take off his shoes and sat on the ground, "I'm not going anywhere until you say it back."

"You're so stubborn." You laughed, getting off the bed and squatting on the ground, "You weren't supposed to react like that...but I love you too!" You squeezed his cheeks, placing a kiss in between his brows.

"What do you mean I wasn't supposed to react like that?"

"It was a prank I found on tiktok, 'not saying i love you back'" You shrugged, "You're so cute though!"

Heeseung rolled his eyes, "All this, just for a prank? I'm probably going to hit traffic now...Silly girl!"

# Jay

"I'm off to the store, need anything?" He asked, grabbing his wallet from the dresser in the room.

"Nah, I'm good." You replied from the kitchen.

"Okay then, I'm off now, I love you!"

"Mhm, see you in 30 minutes!"

"Yeah, I love you!" He made sure his voice was clear enough to make sure you heard it.

"Yep, you do! Oh and I forgot, can you pick up some tomatoes for the soup tonight?"

Jay groaned, "I know you heard me." He made his way to the kitchen to give you a back hug, giving your shoulder a small kiss, "I love you."

"Why do you keep saying it? I know you do," You giggled, stirring the food in the pan.

"Yeah, but you have to say it back..." His voice softened as he rested his cheek on your back.

"Why do I have to say it back? You know I do."

"Yeah...but, every time I hear you say 'I love you' to me, it gives me butterflies...and when you don't say it, my stomach just sinks. Don't ask me why, it just does." He paused with a sigh, "Please?" He asked once more, butterflying kisses on your shoulder.

You 'awwed' pouting. He wasn't one to normally give too much affection so this was a pretty rare sight of him to see. You couldn't help but turn around and shower his face in kisses, making sure not to leave a spot unkissed, "I love you too, you adorable sweet bean!" You ruffled his hair.

He let a breath out in relief, "Thank God...I was worried you wouldn't say it before I leave and would have to talk to Enhypen about it."

You laughed, "No no, it was just a prank, I'm sorry!"

"You and Niki love pranks way too much. No wonder you two get along so well."

"Actually it was his idea for me to do this." You admitted and he widened his eyes. Poor Niki was going to get a lecture tomorrow at practice.

#Jake

"I'm off to a meeting. I'll be back a little late tonight, love you!" Jake fixed his jacket and grabbed his keys waiting to hear back from you.

"Ah, I'll see you tonight then!" You replied from the living room, reading your book.

Next thing you know, he is right next to you, hip to hip, "No I love you?" He whined out, shaking your arm.

"Yah, I can't read!" You complained, pulling your arms from his hand.

"Wait..." He paused, wrapping his arms around your waist, "I..I didn't do anything, right? You seem mad...and you didn't say I love you back."

"What?" You asked, "You didn't do anything, but Jake, you're going to be late! Go on, go on!" You ushered him away, but he didn't budge, secured in his place.

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, really." You shook your head.

"Okay...then I love you." He waited for your reply, but when you didn't respond, he threw his head back on the couch, "Y/n..." He drew out your name, "I don't know how to fix my mistake if you don't tell me..."

You laughed, "Jake, you honestly did nothing wrong!" You bent over, kissing his nose, "I love you!"

"What? Why didn't you say it earlier?" He asked confused, but couldn't help but smile finally hearing the words he wanted to.

"Some prank I found on Youtube." You answered nonchalantly, "But you better go or else you really will be late!"

He looked at the clock and gasped, "Yah, Y/n, you really had me worried! Next time do nicer prank please!" And with that, he rushed out the door.

#Sunghoon

"I'm going to practice now, Y/n!" He said, kissing your cheek whilst you still laid with your eyes closed, the sky still dark from the early morning, "I love you!"

You had a small smile on your face, planning on doing the prank you found, "Mmm...drive safely."

"I will, I love you!" He eyed you, but knowing your tired, he figured you probably forgot to say it back.

"I know..." You said sleepily, hugging your pillow closer.

He scrunched his face up and jumped on top of you, knees on either side of you, "I love you!"

"Hoonie, why are you on top of me? Let me sleep!" You whined, trying to push him away, but he shook his head.

"I..." He kissed your forehead, "Love" another kiss to your nose, "You." and another one on your cheek.

"I'm very aware." You chuckled, managing to push him on his side of the bed, "Aren't you going to be late if you keep going on like this?"

"Yah! Why are you not saying it back?" He complained, groaning into the crook of your neck.

"Saying what back?" You asked innocently.

"I. Love. You." He said slower, but more firmly.

"Oh yeah, you too!" You smiled and couldn't help but laugh when you saw his eyes widen.

"Oh, you too!? You too!?"

"Okay okay, I'm joking!! I love you, Hoonie!" You confessed patting his thigh that was next to your hand.

"Oh yeah, you too." He copied in a mimicking voice, rolling his eyes, but he smiled, kissing your nose, "When I get home, there better be a lot of kisses and cuddles waiting for me." he warned with a pout.