#luckily he remembered everything after the system got to him

[raddestrose]

Shoutout to Shen Yuan the only man who actually read porn for the plot

[sunderwight]

Crack SVSSS Mpreg AU where when Shen Yuan transmigrates in, the system impregnates him with the displaced soul of the original Shen Qingqiu.

For the purposes of this AU, we'll say that male pregnancies or trans men being pregnant in the PIDW universe are uncommon but not especially noteworthy concepts.

So now not only does he have to deal with recovering from his qi deviation and of course being pressed into the role of the scum villain from the novel he was just reading, he's also mysteriously knocked up, can't explain it, and doesn't even know for sure if the baby will recollect being Shen Jiu when its born -- and of course hate him for stealing the Shen Qingqiu life.

What's more, Shen Yuan can't bring himself to get rid of it, because he does have mixed feelings about stealing Shen Jiu's life as well. Even though he knows it's probably the best tactical move, and he doesn't even like Shen Jiu, and the system has said there wouldn't be any penalties because it wouldn't impact the major important plot milestones, he opts to just... keep it. And not think too hard about it.

Luckily(?) cultivators have a lot of control over their bodies, which means a pregnancy can last however long they want it to, so Shen Yuan doesn't have to worry about giving birth in a hurry. SJ seems fine in utero, stalling his development doesn't have adverse effects, so Shen Yuan just swears Mu Qingfang to secrecy and figures out how to keep his pregnancy at the early stages for as long as possible while he hashes everything else out. So apart from internal freak-outs, most of the early plot proceeds as usual.

Unluckily(?), this state of affairs changes when Shen Qingqiu gets infected with Without-a-Cure, as that makes it so that putting off the inevitable is no longer a viable course of action. He can't spare the extra energy and doesn't have the stability of cultivation required to mess around with his pregnancy anymore, so things have to proceed at a more normal rate.

Which means the other peak lords and the disciples on Qing Jing find out that Shen Qingqiu has been harboring a secret pregnancy for an undetermined length of time. Shen Yuan has to bite the bullet and use the amnesia excuse to explain his lack of insight to the existence of any other parents (he's surprised it works so well, because he doesn't know that the rest of the sect has already figured out he doesn't remember some things after his fever), which inspires a lot of behind-the-scenes chaos because everyone has ALSO figured out that Shen Qingqiu's amnesia seems to pertain to things that must have traumatized him in the past.

So if he's pregnant, and he lost his memories of how he got that way...

Well. Cang Qiong is now on the hunt for an attacker who might already be dead and doesn't actually exist.

But everyone agrees that Shen Qingqiu doesn't need to be troubled by these details, so if he's okay with not remembering, then they're okay with letting him not remember. The only one who tries to bring it up is Liu Qingge, and that's mostly in the context of wanting clues so he can track down the culprit and stab them until they are dead.

Luo Binghe supports the quest to find the persona responsible and violently murder them, but as a disciple he has no resources to actually go on some wild goose chase for a mystery rapist. Besides, he has more important things to do on the peak, like making Shizun's meals, keeping Shizun's house, and preparing to help raise Shizun's baby. Luo Binghe is not going to be the stepdad, he is going to be the dad who stepped up! (Binghe please cool your jets you're like fifteen you're going to give your future shizun whole new inner turmoil about whether it's possible to accidentally babytrap your own teenage disciple via immaculate conception reincarnation pregnancy...)

Anyway eventually baby SJ arrives, and Shen Yuan immediately decides to block all recollections of the childbirth process and never dwell on it again. Something happened, he's no longer going to think about it, oh look a baby! A potentially evil villain baby. With cute widdle toes and tiny fingers and a squished, grumpy baby face that gets all red when he cries...

Yeah. Despite his reservations, there's no way he's not getting attached.

He gets Binghe to help him pick out a name for the baby, partly because he feels terribly presumptuous when he actually knows this kid's real name (but he can hardly call his son "Shen Jiu"), partly to encourage Luo Binghe to have some fondness for the kid so that if he someday hates his old shizun, he might still spare his "son" from his revenge. Even though it's actually SJ's fault. Well, he's a baby now. He probably doesn't even remember anything! He sure does cry a lot! Would the OG villain cry and fuss and settle down only after being sufficiently cuddled?

Turns out, yes. Shen Jiu remembers everything from before his fatal qi deviation. He's just also still an infant. So what can he do but cry? And maybe pee on the beast and that body-stealing creature that has reduced him to this. He spends most of his early infancy waiting for someone to come smother him with a pillow, but the conspirators must want to keep him alive for some reason, because it doesn't happen. Instead he gets looked after and soothed and taken care of in a way he never has been. Also, his stupid baby instincts keep insisting that the creature which stole his body is actually the safest person in the whole world.

It's like a cruel joke. SJ finally gets the childhood he always wanted deep down inside, but the one giving it to him is some kind of monster.

[local-new-kid-super]

Little things the Freedom Pals do for a New Kid!Reader during and after a battle.

Part one with Raccoon and Friends: ☆here☆

@everythingwasnormalhere, this part two was inspired by your comment!

Professor Timmy:

☆ Professor Timmy can't often get to you in a timely manner if dangers coming your way, but he makes up for it with his stellar ability to communicate via his mind. It's a lot harder for someone like Tupperware or Wonder-Tweak to yell across the battlefield and be heard amidst the heat of battle. However, seeing as he speaks in your mind, it's infinitely easier for him to warn you of an incoming attack or a more strategic maneuver to take down enemies.

"On your left, New Kid! Brace for impact, I'll provide assistance shortly."

☆ Professor Timmy likes to let you in on his plans first, even letting you be one of the first to see his incredible franchise plan.

"This will be the end to our struggles, if only the Raccoon and Friends agree to your terms..."

Tupperware:

☆ He's got some pretty intense armor, so a lot like Captain Diabetes, he's willing to rake a few hits for you in the battlefield. Just... not too many, he doesn't want to bang up his mother's Tupperware.

"Watch out New Kid, coming through with the Tupperware tornado!"

☆ He doesn't have any food or snacks to share after the battle, given that he's wearing everything you'd usually store food in. Luckily, he's got money, so post-battle if you wanna hang out, he'll gladly head to an arcade or take you to the Dispensary/KFC.

"I'm hungry, you hungry, New Kid? Let's get outta here."

"Ey! I want KFC to you son of a bitch! New Kid, get back here!" Raccoon yells.

Wonder Tweak:

☆ He's usually too focused on... tweaking out during battle to actually worry about healing teammates, but he's on it once the heat of the battle has died down. He'll check on professor Timmy and the others, his anxiety getting the better of him once hes no linger focused on his own survival. He'll patch you up, and try to calm you with the things he remembers Craig telling him (though he'd rather not talk about his Raccoon and Friends counterpart right now.)

"I-its gonna be okay, ah! Hold still, I'm gonna put on this band-aid, a-ah! Get a snack to heal, UNLESS YOU'RE ALLERGIC?!"

☆ He understands the importance of a support system, so whether you're an ex-member of Raccoon and Friends or just joined because of the causes message, he makes sure you have a space in the Freedom Pals base. He's got a corner where he goes to de-stress, and it's his personal space to fix himself up post-battle. He'll drag an extra bean-bag chair over for you, and offer to let you hold Stripe if he's got him for the night.

"Ack, here. He's great for after a big f-fight, he can sense i-inner turmoil!"

Toolshed:

☆ He's got an eye on you, always prepared to help, but... in all honesty, he just likes to watch you. Whether you're fierce and powerful or a little more of an assist type, he's always impressed by your ability to hold your own. He's gets a little more than flustered, but in the heat of battle he's actually less worried about complimenting you, hoping you'll just write it off as team members cheering each other on.

"Yeah! Sock it to them, New Kid! I'm here for you- we're here for you. The-the team is here for you, the Freedom Pals are, not me specifically-"

"Toolshed, keep your hormones under control during the battle, we must stay focused." Professor Timmy says, immediately causing Toolshed to turn green and move across the battlefield as far as possible from you.

☆ Please don't ignore him for any of the other guys, he's knows his powers are more tool-based and a little more generic, but he's not gonna feel very good about himself if you follow around Mysterion or heaven forbid, a member of Raccoon and Friends. He's still upset about Kyle not switching over. In order to prevent this, he makes sure you know what a good choice it was to be a member of this franchise instead. He'll show off there awesome base, and constantly mention how well the team did in battle, all in the hopes of keeping you around.

"I bet you never won a battle that quick when you were a Raccoon friend, huh? Not that you couldn't, I mean cause you had shitty teammates! Like... like Kite..."

Mysterion:

☆ He's technically a member of the Freedom Pals, but more often than not he works alone. He's usually described as mysterious, or creepy, even brutal, but the number one word you can use to describe him is 👏 PROTECTIVE 👏! None of the many bad guys that stalk the streets of south park are gonna get the jump on you, don't worry.

"Hey asshole!" A growly voice comes out from the shadows as a pounding sound hits the alley dumpster. "Get ready to feel the swift, ribbed fist of justice!"

☆ He's quick to depart post battle, not taking time to celebrate. He's got real justice to go serve, but... ever since you joined the team, he's been more hesitant to rush off. Still, doesn't mean he's great at figuring out how to socialize amongst the team. He just kind of... stands in the shade under the staircase that leads into the basement and broods. He kinda hopes you think it's hot.

"Oh, hey. Just thinking about giving those mob assholes what's coming to them..." He bites his lip, brows furrowed under his cowl as he tries to come up with a conversation piece that's not as harsh or violent as he uses with others. "I uh- did I ever tell you I have a sister? I think you'd like her..."

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 12.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurt/comfort-esque, trauma, smut, dry-humping, make-out, dubcon (both have alcohol in system)

A/N. oh thats not

-> MASTERLIST.

“Stay,” 

Your voice is wobbly and weak. There’s silent tears flowing down your face. Even so, Atsumu feels nothing but rage. He can’t console you, no.

“please,”

He wants to go, to rip his hand away from yours. To find that asshole and beat him down. Your eyes are pleading with him. 

“Y-You can’t even do anything, it’d be bad for you,” for your career. He knows.

Which is why he reluctantly sits back down, but also why the menacing look on his face is yet to fade. 

“Fuck,” he stresses, running his hand through the middle of his hair. 

He doesn’t even know why he’s so upset. Is it because you’re hurt? Is it because someone got to you before he did? His head hurts with these thoughts. Mostly because he just doesn’t know. 

Atsumu watches as you lay back down. Hiccupping as you bury your face back into the pillow.

You make everything so fucking confusing. He’s supposed to hate you. He wants to. Every day he plans on being angry, to ignore you. But as soon as he sees you, it feels like all those walls crumble down, and he ends up being the one who wants to be noticed by you.

It’s gross. He doesn’t want to date you. Doesn’t think so at least. He doesn’t even like you like that. Maybe Atsumu is just protective of you. Perhaps, he feels like he owes you for being so fucked up towards you for so long.

That’s definitely it.

At least that’s what he’ll continue to tell himself.

———

When you wake up, everything from the night prior is a blur. You were at a bar. You talked to someone. Then you were outside. Then you were in. Then you danced. Then Gora. 

The only thing you did know was that you absolutely do not remember falling asleep with Atsumu Miya.

When you see the mop of blonde laid beside you, you instantly prop yourself up, a strong pain in your head following right after. You let a noise slip out, and curse you because a groan from the man beside you came right after.

You debate to slip out of bed, but before you’re able to, his voice catches you.

“Are you alright?” 

The words catch you off guard, but yet they make you feel somber. You feel your face soften. He’s genuine.

“Um, yeah,” you look around, “why are you in bed with me?” 

Atsumu looks confused. “Do you not—” he stops, “You asked me to, do you not remember?”

You shake your head no almost immediately. 

His facial expressions look frantic, “Look, I’m sorry,” he moves to get up, “did you want to leave early? We don’t have to go today, we made our presence known enough,”

“No— it’s okay, I-I’m sorry,” you start, “You were just trying to help, right?” 

He nods slowly, eyes reassuring you as much as they possibly can.

You sigh, untucking your legs and slipping out of the bed. “I’m gonna get ready,”

———

The two of you fall into this pattern throughout the day. Short responses, the nodding of the head. It’s as casual as casual gets.

And you feel okay with it. 

You and your high school bully walking through a volleyball convention and chatting it up with other pretty famous men. Just where you imagined yourself being during high school.

It’s scary how easy it is to get through the day, it almost makes you forget what happened the day before. Luckily, Gora was nowhere to be seen. More like thankfully, though.

Before you know it, you find yourself alone with Atsumu at the bar.

“Are you ready for the playoffs?” he asks, playing with the rim of his cup.

“Mm,” you shrug, “I’m nervous but probably not as nervous as the rest of you,”

Atsumu nods, “Yeah, s’not the first rodeo for the majority of us, though,”

You laugh before noticing his face becoming more sad looking. You’re about to ask when he starts,

“So,” there’s a hesitant pause, “are you going to tell the coach what happened? Or- anyone?” 

It takes you aback a bit, a lot, because not even you know. You remember vaguely what happened, but at the same time it feels like you can’t recall it precisely. Another thing is, who would believe you?

You’re almost nobody around here. He’s a D1 volleyball player with a career to live up to, while you’re just more or less a side character that isn’t relevant unless you were to google who the Jackal’s manager was. Which, maybe you wouldn’t even pop up still. 

Not sure as to what to say, you give him a meek, “I don’t know,”

Atsumu nods at this, you can tell he wants to push, but instead he gives you a soft tap.

“Are you okay? Like genuinely,” he questions, “We don’t have to talk about it— but I’m here,”

It sucks because if it happened to you while you were alone, it’d be so much easier to cope with. But he was there too. He witnessed part of it, and even heard it from you firsthand in your drunken state. 

But maybe you can take advantage of his kindness. Either way he already knows, holding back won’t change anything.

“Yeah, I’m whatever,” you mumble, “It’s partly my fault, I should’ve just listened to you,”

“It was not your fault. He’s just an asshole and if we happen to cross paths he’ll get what’s coming,” he’s angry as he says that.

You quickly shake your head, “Please don’t, that’s the last thing I need,”

Atsumu sighs before taking another sip from his cup, defeated. He takes in the forlorn look on your face, “Well then, do you want another round, or?”

You give it a quick thought before giving Atsumu a light smile, “Sure,”

———

It feels like it’s been a while since the last time you’ve been a “good drunk”. It seems like shit has always gone down every other time you’ve drank. But for once, the buzz is nice and light. It makes you smile uncontrollably as you make your way to the bed, face first into the comforter.

“Y/N, get your shoes off,” Atsumu calls from behind you, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it on the floor to set up his own little bed.

“Nooo,” you moan, flipping yourself over to stare at the ceiling. 

Atsumu rolls his eyes before loosening the strap of your shoes so they easily roll off. “And your jacket, it’s hot,”

“Heelp,” you plead.

“Just do it,” he mutters, grabbing the spare blanket and adding it to his makeshift cushion on the ground.

You moan and groan, rolling around in bed to try and maneuver your jacket off. But to no avail. You feel sweaty until two big hands help work your arms out of the sleeves. His face is way closer than you remember, he was feet away from you but now you feel his breath waft down your chin.

Your mind is trying to tell you to go, to stop. Deep down you know you shouldn’t be doing what you feel your body is about to do. Your eyes meet with his, and everything feels like slow motion. Way too slow.

This is Atsumu Miya. Your head is pleading and begging with you. But you can’t help it. His eyes meet yours, then trickle down to your lips, then back up to you again. 

Then his lips meet yours before you even know what’s going on. You’re not sure if you initiated or if he did. All you can tell is that the kiss is hot and warm. It’s not like him at all. It feels like kissing him makes you forget about all of the past.

Atsumu slides his hand to your waist, his thumb soothing the skin in the area. Your hand has a mind of its own as it reaches to the back of his head, grabbing a tuft of it and pulling him impossibly closer. 

He uses the hand on your waist to guide himself to your heat. He’s hard.

“Atsumu-,” you start, breathing hard as you try to catch it.

“We don’t have to,” he cuts you off, eyes genuine as he looks into your own, “this is only if you want to,”

The scary part is that part of you wants to. You’ve already gone this far, and you can feel yourself heating with the want for relief.

All you’re able to muster is a nod to him to continue. And he does. 

He guides his clothed length along the wetness of your panties, rubbing himself against it.

A noise nearly slips out of you as the friction rubs against your clit. Your hands grab harshly at him wherever they can, pulling him closer into another kiss. It’s messy and noises slip out of you into him.

All your senses are heightened, on end. Your mind is so befuddled you can’t produce any coherent thoughts, just him.

His pace against you quickens, and you squeal as you cum, soaking your panties and coating the outer layer of his slacks. Atsumu is shortly behind you, releasing all over himself. 

“Fuck,” he groans, head limp in defeat. 

Your climax causes you to sober up, your eyes fixated on the mess between your legs. You’re scared because you definitely shouldn’t have that.

It’s unprofessional and most importantly, it was with Atsumu. 

You can feel the beat of your heart quicken with anxiety. He notices this, using a finger to lift your chin to meet his eyes.

“We can forget about this, alright?” he starts, “what happened in this room will stay here,” 

All you manage is a nod.

“Let’s get cleaned up and sleep since we have to be up early. I’ll sleep on the floor again,” is what he leaves you with before lifting himself off you and heading to the bathroom.

As you lie there in the heat of your mistake, all you can think about is what you were going to do now. 

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[m00nsbaby]

Jealous of your celebrity crush.

Moon system x reader. - Headcanons.

Steven.

It was an amazing date.

You couldn't remember when was the last time you went to the theater, and even though Steven and you had never had money problems, you still saw buying tickets for the front row as a luxury.

That night, you laughed, cried, and even hummed softly to each other. After all, it was your favorite musical.

Oh, and Steven's hand never let go of yours.

"Shall we go to the back?" "Here? Love, we can't…" "Steven!" You blushed, giving his shoulder a light tap. "Not for that, to get an autograph."

Steven was well aware that you both chose that particular show mainly because your favorite Broadway actor was in the cast.

"Run, or we won't catch him."

Your boyfriend truly was your best accomplice in everything. You couldn't think of a time he had said no to your whims, and he was the one who stood up to lead you out of the venue.

As you got closer, he felt something odd in his stomach.

A different sensation.

You felt his hand tighten around yours, and you could only assume he was making sure not to lose you in the crowd that was starting to exit as well.

"I'm nervous," you whispered. "Me too." And you didn't question how odd his response was.

There was a small group of people at the back of the theater, all with the same intention as you – to get an autograph and a photo with the stars of the show. A metal barrier separated them from the actors.

You took a spot toward the back, holding onto the barrier, and Steven positioned himself behind you.

"Should I take the photo, love?" That strange feeling invaded him again when you declined.

And again when a round of gentle applause and cheers echoed through the air. It all felt quite intimate in a way, and that didn't sit well with him.

You gasped loudly when you saw him coming out. That was another point on the list of things Steven wasn't enjoying about this situation.

It didn't seem strange to you when he draped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

"What should I say to him?" You asked eagerly as you watched him move through the crowd, talking, signing autographs, and thanking other fans.

Luckily, you had positioned yourselves towards the end, which gave you time to think about what to say.

"That he did a great job?" Steven pressed his lips together at his own words. It was as if he was suddenly regretting this whole idea, no matter how hard he tried to find his usual kind words, nothing came out.

Finally, it was your turn.

"Did you enjoy the show, guys?" He was so dreamy. A sigh escaped you at how kind he remained, even though he must have been tired. He took his time with each person, getting to know them and chatting.

Steven wasn't impressed by him at all.

In fact, thinking about it, neither his performance nor his singing were as good as he had initially thought.

Rather mediocre, actually.

"Your work is… incredible, really." Your eyes shone as you watched him sign your program.

Your dramatic boyfriend could only think that was the way you looked at him. And that you should only look at him that way.

Only at him.

Steven dissociated from much of your conversation, especially the part where you handed your phone to the other guy for a selfie with you. He snapped back to reality when he asked about Steven.

"He's my boyfriend; I forced him to come." You joked. Why did you two suddenly seemed like lifelong friends?

Besides, it was a lie; he was the one who had initiated the idea.

"I-I wasn't forced at all; I love being involved." He replied honestly. It churned his stomach that the other guy looked at him with admiration. Why did he have to be such a good person?

You said your goodbyes with a hug that left a slight scent of his cologne on you. If it was possible, it made Steven even more nauseous.

"Isn't he charming?" "Sure."

You pursed your lips at Steven's sudden coldness as he walked beside you in the well-lit city, not letting go of your hand.

"Didn't you like him?" "Of course, I liked him, love. Why wouldn't I?"

His rapid speech gave him away, and you remained silent as you tried to figure out what had upset him.

Oh.

Oh.

You decided to test your theory.

"Don't you think his eyes were beautiful?" Another squeeze of your hand, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. "They were just regular eyes."

Bingo. Steven was jealous.

At the entrance to your house, you turned on your heels, taking advantage of the stairs to give you a few extra inches in height so you could look him in the face.

"You know you don't have to be jealous of anyone, right?" His cheeks turned red as you placed your hands on them, giving them a gentle squeeze.

Steven, obediently, held onto your waist.

"You're the love of my life, Steven Grant." Your words were the culmination of a wonderful date, of the happiness he brought you every day.

And yes, a jealous Steven was amusing, but it broke your heart to think that insecurity might be getting the best of him.

His eyes sparkled like the stars.

"You are mine, right, love?" He sounded like a little kid begging for confirmation.

He knew exactly how to play his cards, what puppy-dog face to make based on the situation, and the tone of voice that made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

And a special warmth in your body.

You played along.

"Only yours, sweetheart." You whispered before kissing his lips.

Steven was content with how his little jealousy issue had been resolved, but he was sure of one thing after this.

You wouldn't be watching anything starring that idiot again.

Marc.

Marc was proud of his accomplishment.

Fighting for tickets on a website was more challenging than you could have ever imagined, not to mention the secret maneuvering behind your back. It had probably been his most difficult mission, surpassing all the tasks Khonshu could assign him.

But he would be the first to say it had been worth it. Even more so after having the opportunity to see you cry tears of happiness in his arms on your birthday.

"Will you come with me?" "Of course, dear." That was the biggest surprise, actually. Marc despised crowded places with all his heart, but he was excited to accompany you on such an important moment for you.

When the day of the concert arrived, Marc almost fainted.

He was left speechless by your style, a bit more… dark? You had definitely gotten into character for the concert, and that only encouraged him further.

For a short time.

He regretted it as soon as he saw the line to enter, but that was another matter.

You arrived at the venue early, mentally prepared to stand and wait for a good couple of hours.

And you had to say that after that experience, you were truly ready to marry Marc because you had an amazing time in your little corner between the metal fences. You talked about everything, because despite spending as much time together as possible, once you started talking, no one could silence you.

It was worth it; you almost fainted when you entered and realized you had reached the front row.

Marc, on the other hand, was starting to feel nervous due to the number of people arriving, but he immediately went into his boyfriend role. He let you hold onto the metal railing, and he positioned himself behind you, enclosing you between the fence and his body.

He would rather die than let you get crushed.

When the concert started, Marc was already feeling overstimulated, but he was willing to let you enjoy this. After all, according to the band's official page, it would only be about an hour after the opening acts.

He was satisfied to hear you scream, jump, sing, and smile like he had never seen you do before.

The problem began around 15 minutes into the concert when the lead vocalist fixed his attention on you.

Like clockwork, Marc remembered all those times you had talked about your teenage crush.

A burning sensation rose to his throat, and he furrowed his brow when he saw the singer wink at you while singing.

"Marc! Marc! Marc!" Your shouts pulled him from his thoughts, and you looked at him over your shoulder. "It's my song!" You had been saying that for the last 10 minutes, but it made him laugh. He kissed your lips, and you returned it briefly.

Marc mentally prayed that the idiot had seen that. Who, by the way, seemed unable to take his eyes off you.

The noise was enough to cover the groan that escaped your throat when Marc's hands tightened on your hips, pressing you closer to his body if that was even possible.

You blushed, though it was impossible to tell whether it was that or just the heat from jumping around for so long.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when the other guy leaned over the edge of the stage to your level and grabbed your phone from your hands.

You were going crazy. Screaming, with tears of sheer excitement in your eyes.

Marc rolled his eyes. Cheap tricks, he thought.

His only consolation was knowing he had made you scream louder before.

The phone returned to your hands after the guy recorded himself singing a few lines and interacting with the crowd.

This was definitely the best day of your life, or you were dreaming.

When the last song came on, his instinct was stronger than him. He ended up turning you around, and you didn't complain.

This was his special moment.

You could swear he kissed you the entire time the song played, until you relaxed in his arms, and the music seemed like a background melody accompanying you.

You would have never imagined that Marc was marking his territory.

He showered you with kisses until the lights came on, making you aware that you were still in public. You separated almost instantly, your cheeks red.

"Marc! You made me miss the last song!" You didn't seem upset as he leaned his forehead against yours.

You had enough time for yourselves while people began to leave.

"You don't seem too upset." Your hips hurt from the way he had been holding you for the past several minutes.

"Thank you," you whispered before kissing him one last time. "It's the best gift I've ever received."

Marc didn't have time to tell you how much he loved you; his gaze focused on the two large guys wearing backstage passes on their chests that were scanning the crowd.

You never knew why Marc pulled you out of there in a hurry, but you had no more doubts or questions when he distracted you with bribes, he bought you the T-shirt you liked the most, and a poster at which he would later throw darts.

Straight at the lead singer's face.

Jake.

At this precise point in his life, Jake considered himself probably the most unfortunate man who had ever existed.

Because, of course, the first time he ignored his desires to throw the guy into the nearest sewer and let him be forgotten over time.

Even more when he complimented your nails.

"Of course, they're nice," he thought to himself. "Even more so when they're wrapped around my…"

He couldn't continue mentally killing him; he had to smile and say "I'm the boyfriend" when you two bumped into your favorite actor on the streets of New York.

It made his stomach turn to notice how you fidgeted with your hands, trying to appear calm.

In fact, he couldn't decide whether he liked that more than if you had just voiced your desire to scream.

Both options made him want to put on Khonshu's suit.

The upside was that, for security reasons, you couldn't take a photo with him, so he could live without having to see you smile even more next to him forever.

Without being dramatic, he would erase his memory if he could just to forget that all this happened.

But you could say it was a fairly harmless encounter as far as possible. Well, for Jake, who never expressed how this was eating him up inside. You, on the other hand, had to wake up the next day with marks on your body caused by him.

His hands on your neck and waist, bites on your shoulders.

Although, you weren't complaining. It was a nice reminder that even though there were many attractive men out there (with acting skills like gods), none of them would ever drive you as crazy as Jake Lockley.

The problem came when you ran into him for the second time.

Jake didn't consider himself particularly insecure.

You yourself had to deal with a thousand girls who thought he was flirting with them because of that permanent smile on his face.

Or that habit you hated so much of winking at them to get a free dessert or to get you two seated faster at the restaurant.

But sometimes, Jake's ego wavered.

That small part of him that still felt like a tool for Marc and Steven, forgetting that he was a person in his own right.

You kept him aware of his independence, and when he doubted that… everything was a disaster for him.

So, you can imagine how he crumbled when the other guy recognized you.

"Of course, I remember you!" He was so loud that Jake swore he had a headache just from listening to him talk.

You almost fainted right there.

He grabbed your hands again to see your nails, excited about the new design, while Jake was thinking about how easy it would be to cut off his hands in that position.

You didn't need to say anything for him to understand your protest; both of you looked at each other in reproach.

"It's the same perfume, right?" The aforementioned guy took you out of the momentary staring contest with Jake, whom you could feel breathing down your neck despite being about two steps away from you.

You nodded silently.

"I knew it. I can still smell you on me."

After that, Jake swore he was seeing everything in shades of red, and a shiver ran down your spine because you could feel his gaze fixed on you.

"Well, we're already running late." Jake's accent interrupted your conversation, and his hand settled on the small of your back. You bit your lower lip because at this point, you didn't know if he was scaring you or if you wanted to push this limit further.

"Oh, but this time we can take the picture that you wanted so much…" "Really late." Jake interrupted him immediately, that smile that made you tremble from head to toe. In fact, he didn't even let him respond, or finish that sentence in which he seemed about to tell you he was glad to see you.

"Come on, mi vida." A bad omen.

His hand slid slowly down your back until it reached your hand, gripping your wrist with his usual firmness, but you noticed an extra touch of strength.

It's needless to emphasize how he devoured your mouth as soon as you entered the building.

It was going to be a long night.

And mentally, you thanked the city's cold weather; you could wear scarves without anyone wondering what your possessive boyfriend had done to you the previous night.

You would consider making him jealous more often.

yeah, i wasn't really a fan of this lol, anyways, here's a little extra of which guys i thought about while writing this in order of appearance!!

[cheriladycl01]

Switching up on me - Esteban Ocon x Lawyer! Reader

Plot: Busy days using an underground train system you aren't familiar too is stressful enough with all the people and noises, but your day couldn't get any worse when you switch bags with the person you bumped into on the platform.

You were currently running around central Milan in a tizz, you were trying to find the underground station so you could make your way over to the building your client had sent through.

Usually your legal firm dealt with everything strictly in the UK, but this high profile client of yours was unable to make the travel from Italy to England. Your boss sent you off saying you'd have to meet him there to run through final things before you went to court. Everything was in a large duffle bag, all the private documents and confidential agreements and you were struggling holding it next to you.

Once you got into the subway system you placed the bag down next to you but close enough no-one would be able to steal from you. A gentleman came and stood next to you waiting for the next train that was supposed to come in about a minute.

What you didn't anticipate was Milan's sudden rush hour, some guy bumped into you making your trip over your bag. The guy who was next to you caught you and held you steady so you didn't fall onto the tunneled track.

"Thank you!" you smile up at him, and you guys continue to stare up at each other until the train comes into the station. People push their way off and the mystery man looks up at the train side and gasps when he notices it's his. He grabs his bag and jumps on while you watch in awe as the love of your life, your literal soulmate leaves the station on the train.

You wait knowing that one was heading out of the city and sit on a bench waiting for yours to come in.

You pick up the bag which feels slightly heavier than before but you don't think much off it. You get on the next tube which is luckily a lot quieter and manage to get a seat and have your bag on your lap. When you feel it, it feels a little odd, not as padded out in some areas as you remembered it being.

You slowly unzip the bag, seeing none of your things. No water bottle with turtle stickers, or university hoodie, no legal documents of your clients and no nice pair of heels you were supposed to put on before you got to the office after your train commute and small walk.

"No no no!" you whispers to yourself rummaging through finding a helmet, a suit and other various manly bits that weren't yours.

You then remembered the man on the platform and that you must have switched bags. You smiled at the thought that you guys had the exact same bags which just fueled your thoughts of the fact that the very attractive man that saved your life on the Milan underground was in fact your soulmate.

You get off at the next stop at a completely random place in Milan, where you see and advertisement for the F1 race in Monza. The guy must be something to do with that, he was heading that way and he had the helmet and race suit.

You pull out your phone and pull up your clients number before calling them.

"Hey Y/N!" they answer after one ring and immediately they sound a little guilty.

"Everything alright?" you ask.

"Well, you see somethings come up and I'm going to need to postpone everything until tomorrow and the day after, I'll pay for the flight for the inconvenience and your extra hotel expenses and you know what even through dinner on me tomorrow night. I'll take you to a nice place in Milan, but I'm so sorry I cant do it today!" she blurts out and a massive smile comes onto your face.

"That's no problem at all, I can er... do a little more research in the mean time and ... maybe explore the city!" you exclaim knowing you'd be heading on a tube straight for Monza.

"Ahhhh! Your a star I'm so glad the company sent you! I swear you are the only one I trust! But defiantly explore the city it's beautiful. I'll see you tomorrow babe but I really have to go! Okay goodbye!" she says before hanging up.

"You clutch the bag, looking around before you find your way to the nearest taxi service.

"Hello, could you take me to Monza? The er race track?" you ask having no idea if there was a specific name.

"130 euro!" he says and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the price.

"Yeah, that's fine!" you grit your teeth.

You are there in no-time jumping out after paying the driver and looking at the map to try and find the most sensible place to go. You assume the paddock where it leads to the garages makes the most sense.

However as you get there and see the security and the pass entrance you start to panic. You walk up to one of the security with a friendly smile on your face which was almost sheepish.

"Hi, this is going to sound so bizarre but I think I've switched bags with a driver and I have their helmet and race suit. Can I get in to hand it back to him please and to get my bag back?" you ask and he laughs.

"Yeah sod off kid!" he laughs the one next to him joining in.

"No I'm being series look!" you say unzipping the bag. They look at it and look between each other.

"Radio it through to alpine" one of the says before walking off through the entrance. You awkwardly stand there waiting for someone to say anything.

"I've been told to bring her through!" the one on the walky talky says letting you go through. He walks with you until you come up to one place that has a big picture of the man you met in the subway.

"Esteban?" you ask pointing to his picture and the security guard nods.

"Apparently he went out to look for you, he's been called by his team to come back as you are here!" he smiles before walking off towards the front. Someone comes running out the front in team gear smiling at you.

"Hey, come with me can we get you anything to drink. You can wait in Esteban's driver room!" he smiles and you politely decline a drink, placing yourself on the sofa and waiting patiently.

"Hey!" a voice interrupts you from scrolling on your phone.

"Hey, I erm think I have something of yours!" you grin, holding up the bag and he sighs seeing his bag the exact colour and model that yours was.

"Thank god! That bag has my life in it!" he cries.

"I think i would have been fired if I actually lost mine!" you admit.

"Yeah, I just want you to know the minute I saw confidential i didn't look through anything. I only found the key card to your hotel room, that's where I was heading to in hopes you'd gone there to try make some calls.

"I worked out you must be a driver and that you'd probably be in dire need so i came straight here!" you smile and he nods.

"Well thank you for delivering the goods!" he smiles handing over your bag. You smile and thank him, before hesitating to exit the room. However you do with a sad sort of smile, knowing you'd probably never see him again.

"Wait!" a voice shouts making your turn round and you see Esteban stood there.

"Can I please have your number, or take you out to dinner as a thank you?" he asks looking over you, trying to get a read.

"Really?" you grin, not expecting him to have asked.

"Well, I think it's sort of fate right?" he asks with a little sly grin on his face.

"Yeah, I guess you're right!" you grin.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

[schrodingerspsycho]

Another Shot - Chapter 2

Pairing - Sam Carpenter x Reader

Warnings - Mentions of alcohol, addiction, weed

Word Count - 5.1k

Summary - (Some of) the truth comes out. Tensions rise between you and Sam.

Chapter 1

Help Palestine by clicking this link!🇵🇸

You couldn’t sleep. Of course, you couldn’t. Sam Carpenter was in New York City.

All the memories you’d tried so hard to repress had come flooding back in full force, washing over you like a tidal wave. It hurt more than you would’ve imagined. And that fucking look in her eyes. As if she had any right to be angry with you. It made your blood boil. God, you wished you could hate her.

But you couldn’t. Yes, the memories were bitter, but they were still oh-so-sweet. You wanted nothing more than to crawl back to that better time when she was by your side and you were happy, uncaring of how the broken glass cut your hands and knees along the way. Then you remembered that fucking face, and you knew you couldn’t do that either.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes, which still ached from crying, and rolled over to stare at the clock. It was four in the morning. You wanted a drink. How ironic, Sam made you want to drink.

Instead, you opted for the one vice you still allowed yourself; weed. You stepped onto the balcony as you lit up, pulling your blanket tight around your shoulders. Just a few hits to help you sleep, you told yourself. The high would pass before your shift started. And just this once, you let that be a lie.

Luckily, you had an afternoon shift, and the weed was completely out of your system by the time you clocked in. Not that anyone would have cared, you wouldn’t be the first person to show up to work high. But you didn’t want to risk it. You couldn’t lose this job. So you made an effort to push Sam far from your mind and man the counter with a smile on your face. And it would’ve worked too, if it weren’t for her meddling little sister.

“Hey, Tara!” you smiled when she walked in. She waved back, clearly distracted. You took no notice, turning back to the lobby to go about your business. But Tara stepped out in front of you, blocking your path and nearly making you drop the menus you were carrying. “Shit! What the hell, dude? Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you cried.

“I want to know what happened,” she said, ignoring you. “Sam wouldn’t tell me.”

You stared at her. “Are you serious? I told you to drop it.”

“You didn’t really think that was going to stop me, did you?”

You sighed. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe you were secretly dying to unload all the memories clogging your brain. And talking about your feelings was supposed to help, right? “If I tell you, you can never bring this up again, got it?”

“Got it.” She crossed her finger over her heart, excitement shining in her eyes. You hoped she wouldn’t regret asking for the truth.

“If you can get Jay to give us our breaks at the same time, I’ll tell you then.”

Tara nodded and rushed off to find your manager, finally leaving you in peace. Maybe after this, you would finally be able to put it all behind you. And if Sam didn’t want Tara to know… then perhaps you could relive it after all. Sure, it was petty. But after everything she’d put you through, you deserved to be a little petty.

Jay must’ve been in a good mood because he granted Tara’s request. She didn’t mention her sister again for the first half of the shift, choosing instead to gush about how Chad had surprised her by taking her out for breakfast that morning. You listened eagerly, glad to finally put a face to the name you’d heard so many times.

“He’s going to come in to have lunch with me tomorrow,” she smiled. “Are you working the morning shift? I want you to actually meet him. I think you’d get along.”

“Yeah, I’m working a double tomorrow. I look forward to it.”

“Yay!” she exclaimed, and you grinned back at her. She’d only been working at the diner for two weeks, and she’d already become one of your best friends. You hadn’t grown so close with someone so quickly since… well, you knew where she got her charm.

Your break time seemed to arrive faster than ever, and you steeled yourself for your unorthodox therapy session as you made your sandwich. Tara was watching you like a hawk as if she expected you to run away.

“You sure you wanna do this?” you asked her. “Last chance to change your mind.”

“You have to know that only makes me more desperate to hear this story.”

“Fine,” you sighed. You led her into the break room and shut the door, making sure no one would overhear. She gazed up at you, her eyes wide and serious now as you sat next to her on the couch.

“Take your time,” she said softly. You nodded in appreciation, and with a deep, shuddering breath, you began.

“We met through a Facebook group four years ago. It was for young people in Modesto who were trying to get sober. Like a support group, but without the stuffiness of AA.”

“Wait, when you say sober, you mean-”

“Alcoholics,” you nodded, a grim look on your face. “Some people were addicted to other things too, and we did what we could to help. Mostly cigarettes, like your sister. She’d weaned herself off the harder drugs by that point, thankfully. We would have meetings in coffee shops and cafes, and sometimes people would host at their apartments during the week. Then we would all go out to clubs or parties together on the weekend.”

Tara stared at you, bewildered. “What? How is that helpful?”

“It wasn’t. The idea was that we would do all our drinking in one night and stay sober the rest of the week, but there weren’t any professionals involved. Most people at least thought they wanted to get sober, but we all wanted to drink more. It was still better than getting hammered every night, but not by too much.” You swallowed, and your hands started fidgeting; one of your nervous habits. You hadn’t spoken this much about your alcohol problems in a long time. “Anyway, that’s how we met. I don’t remember which one of us joined the group first, it’s been such a long time. I mean, your sister was still using a fake ID to get booze back then!” You chuckled at the memory. “But we became friends pretty quickly. Then we realized our apartments were only a neighborhood away from each other, so we started going to meetings together. And after about a year of being friends, we started- well…”

“You started dating?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “God, no. She never would’ve made a commitment like that. She was kind of infamous for it, actually.” You took a swig of your soda, hoping to dowse the heat you felt rising in your cheeks. “But we were probably the closest thing to it. We were together just about every other night, we knew each other better than anyone, she knew I wasn’t seeing anyone else and after a while, she stopped seeing other people too. Pretty much all we would’ve had to do was say the words. But that was the problem. She never wanted to talk about anything real. Her past, her feelings, our relationship, nothing. I knew who she was, but I didn’t know anything about her. And believe me, when you drink with someone for that long, you get to know them really well. She knew how I felt about her, how much I cared for her, and she just wouldn’t reciprocate. But I told myself that being with her was enough. And maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t. I don’t even remember.”

“Then what happened?” Tara asked, her voice small.

“About a year into us being… whatever we were, there was… an incident. We went out together, without the group, to a house party. That I invited her to. And we were having fun, y’know, drinking, dancing, just having a grand ol’ time. Then she asked me to go to the bar to get her another shot.” You ran your hand through your hair to try to quell the agitation bristling in your chest. “It took me two minutes to push through the crowd, get the drinks, and come back. Two minutes. But when I came back, she was… she was…” Angry tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away from Tara. You hated that it still had such a hold on you, even after all this time.

Tara laid a shaking hand on your back and you let out a strangled sob. Why was this so fucking hard? You felt like you were back there, the pounding of your heart drowning out the loud music, your vision blurring, the taste of vodka burning your throat, and the feel of your stomach dropping down to hell.

“She was making out with someone else,” you croaked. Tara’s hand stilled, and from the corner of your eye, you saw her mouth open in a silent gasp. “It was some- some guy. Just a random, boring-ass guy. She didn’t even know his name. And when I asked her what the hell she was doing, she laughed. Like it was all just some big fucking joke.” Your fists were clenched, and you could feel your fingernails digging into your palms. Then the tears finally began to fall. “She told me we were nothing. That I meant nothing.”

“I… I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Tara breathed. You leaned back against the couch and wiped your eyes, chuckling in spite of yourself.

“We were both drunk and angry, so what happened next is kind of a blur. But we started shouting at each other, and I think I was crying. I don’t know. Then she slapped the drink out of my hand and spat in my face.”

“She what?” Tara uttered, appalled. You laughed again. It was a sinister sound, but Tara didn’t seem to notice and you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“That was actually the most normal thing she did that night,” you said, to Tara’s growing horror. “She’s an aggressive drunk, and it was far from the first time she’d spat at me. But she’d never done it as an insult before.”

“That’s disgusting,” Tara said. You finally turned to look at her.

“I want you to know, I’m not trying to make you think badly of your sister or anything. I think it’s great that you’re talking again, and I would never do anything to hurt your relationship. I’m just telling you my side of the story.”

“I know,” Tara assured you. “Thank you.”

You shook your head. “I’m not even upset that she didn’t feel the same way. I just wanted her to be happy, and we weren’t even together. But she just had to let me down in the cruelest way possible. She knew how much she was hurting me, and she did it anyway. With a smile on her face.”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” Tara grumbled, and you gave her a brief smile. “So what happened after that?”

“Well, I went home, and the next day I found out she had blocked me on everything. She even left the Facebook group. And the next thing I know, I hear she’s calling this guy her boyfriend and switched to a new shitty, minimum-wage job so she could work with him. She led me on for a whole year, then committed to him in one night. I lost my partner and my best friend at the same time. In two fucking minutes.”

You sat in silence for several moments, the conversation weighing heavily on both of you. When Tara finally spoke, her voice was thick with emotion.

“Thank you for telling me all of this. I know it wasn’t easy for you to relive it. I’m sorry she did that to you, and I’m sorry that I’ve brought it all back-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you insisted. “She’s your sister, and you can’t help that I have a history with her. What happened with us- whatever happens with us- none of it is your fault.” She nodded, but the look in her eyes told you she didn’t believe it. “She told me about you, y’know.”

“She did?”

“Oh, yeah. I could never get her to talk about herself, but if you got enough alcohol in her, she wouldn’t shut up about her baby sister.” You grinned at Tara, and she smiled back. “You’re exactly the way she described you.”

“I’m gonna assume that’s a compliment,” she chuckled. Then her expression turned serious. “I really am sorry that she did that to you, Y/N. It’s… it’s horrible. But I can promise you, Sam’s changed. She’s sober now, and she’s reliable. She’s done so much work to be a better person. She would never do something like that now.”

You gave Tara a sad smile. “I’m happy to hear that, I really am. But I’m going to need her to prove that to me herself.”

“C’mon, Mindy, let’s go.”

“Can’t we just stay in our rooms? We won’t interrupt-”

“No.”

“She said she’d tell us later, let’s just give them some space.”

“Fine.”

Sam put down her book. The twins had been quietly doing their homework on the couch for the last hour, giving her a much-needed respite after the back-to-back six-hour shifts she’d worked at her two jobs today. But now their hushed voices roused her, drawing her from her room in time to see Tara ushering them out the door. “Hey, how was work?” she asked nervously. She didn’t like the serious look on Tara’s face.

“It was fine,” she said with a sigh. “We need to talk, Sam.”

Sam felt her heart rate spike, and her mouth went dry as her palms started to sweat. Truthfully, hearing those words from Tara was more terrifying than the five Ghostfaces she’d faced. She nodded numbly and took a seat at the kitchen table, following Tara’s lead.

“Y/N told me what happened between you two,” Tara began, and Sam’s breath hitched. She knew she should’ve expected this, but it caught her off guard all the same. “I don’t believe they would lie to me, but I have to ask… did you really cheat on them? After leading them on for a year?”

“Yes. I did.” Sam felt like crying. Having you as a reminder of her mistakes was bad enough, but now Tara was judging her too. She wanted to beg you both for forgiveness, but she knew she didn’t deserve it.

“Jesus, Sam,” Tara groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “That’s really shitty. Do you know how broken up Y/N still is about it?”

“I know. I’m so sorry, I-”

“I’m not mad at you, Sam.”

“You’re… you’re not?”

“No,” Tara said with a small smile. “I’ve forgiven you for worse. And I know you’ve changed. We don’t need to talk about what happened.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

Tara grinned. “Do you still love them?”

“What?” Sam stared at her, shocked. “Who-who said anything about love?”

“Okay, fine. Do you still like them?” she corrected, rolling her eyes.

Sam gaped at her as her cheeks started to burn. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with me, and I need to respect that.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Did you see how they looked at me?” she deflected, beginning to sound choked up. “They hate me. And they have every right to.”

“They don’t hate you, Sam,” Tara said kindly, placing a comforting hand over her own. “Trust me. Yes, they’re hurt. Really hurt. But they wouldn’t be if they had moved on.”

“Or if I hadn’t cheated on them and treated them like shit,” Sam mumbled. She leaned against the table and put her head in her hand. Just like mom.

“I think you were wrong,” Tara said, ignoring her. “There is something you can do about it now.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“You can apologize!” she smiled.

“You don’t really think it’s that simple, do you?” Sam scoffed. “Apologizing doesn’t just make things go away, Tara. Not something like this. It won’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it will,” she said softly. “It’ll show them that you’ve changed and that you know it was wrong to cheat on them. It’ll let them know that you’ll be a better person if you start talking again. I mean, sure, it’s not gonna fix everything right away, but it would be a start.”

Sam shook her head. “That’s not enough. It wouldn’t be enough.”

Tara sighed. “Will you at least answer my question?”

“What question?”

“Do you still have feelings for Y/N?”

Sam stood up abruptly and turned away from Tara. She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath. “Where did you send the twins off to?”

“Seriously, Sam? Are you really just going to ignore me?”

“I was thinking I could make spaghetti for dinner, does that sound good?”

Tara glared at her incredulously. “You are unbelievable,” she said, standing up and stomping toward her room. She slammed the door, and Sam stared at it for a long moment. Despite everything, Tara was an optimist, and Sam admired her for it. But two little words wouldn’t mean anything in the face of what she’d done to you. No matter how much she wished it could.

After telling Tara the truth, the rest of your shift had felt awkward, with both of you staying uncharacteristically silent when you weren’t talking to customers. But luckily, everything was back to normal the next morning. You had teased her for being a few minutes late, she teased you for always arriving early, and you passed the time by joking around like you always did. She once again asked Jay if you could take your breaks together, and he once again obliged.

“Dang, he must really like you,” you smiled at her. “He never would’ve said yes if I asked him.”

She shrugged. “I’m very likable.”

“Yeah, you are. Little manager’s pet.”

“Maybe I’ll ask him not to give you a break at all.”

“What, am I suddenly not good enough to meet your boyfriend?”

“No, I’m excited for you to meet him,” she grinned. “He’s excited to meet you, too.”

“Then it sounds like we’re all excited. It’s going to be a very exciting lunch break.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, nudging you playfully as she went to make another pot of coffee. Usually, it was all the customers ordered at this time of day, which made the morning shifts more bearable. You were able to hang out and talk with each other while they finished their nearly forgotten homework and nursed their hangovers, frying up some eggs, bacon, and hashbrowns every now and then. It made the time fly, and soon Jay was calling you and Tara to go on break.

Chad arrived just as you finished making your food, announced by Tara’s squeal of delight. She ran to him and leapt into his arms, and he spun her around gleefully. The few customers in the lobby didn’t even look up from their phones.

“Y/N, get over here! I want you to actually meet Chad!” Tara called, beckoning you with her hand. You smiled and headed over, your tray of food in hand.

“Shouldn’t you let him order first?”

“No, it’s fine. He doesn’t need to eat,” she smirked. He gave her a look of feigned offense.

“Excuse you, I’m very hungry. I ate a very light breakfast so I would have room for an amazing lunch made by my beautiful girlfriend.”

“I’m not gonna make your food, I’m on break,” she said, turning to face him. “That was really stupid of you to not eat.”

“Well, then what did I come here for?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

“You’re breaking my heart, you know that, Tara? You’re breaking your boyfriend’s heart.”

“Oh, please, you eat enough of my cooking at home,” she grinned, leaning in closer.

“Anyway, I’m Chad! It’s nice to meet you,” he smiled, looking up quickly when he remembered you were there. Tara blushed.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N. Tara’s told me a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“Mostly.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m going to go order some food made by a stranger, and then I’ll join you.”

Tara stuck her tongue out at him as he left, and you followed her to the table where she had set her food. “Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly as you sat down.

“Don’t worry about it. You two are adorable.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

After a few moments of eating in silence, Chad joined you once again. “Alright, where were we?” he asked, sliding into the booth next to Tara. You looked at his tray and smirked at her. He’d ordered exactly what she’d said he would.

“You were about to tell me about yourself,” you prompted. He smiled.

“Well, I’m Tara’s amazing boyfriend who’s known her since we were five, I’m studying sports medicine at Blackmore, I was the offensive lineman on my high school football team, Mindy is my twin sister, and my favorite Pokémon is Meganium. What else do you want to know?”

You laughed and Tara raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, that’s certainly an introduction,” you remarked.

“What? Those are important things to know about me!”

“They sure are, babe. You’re doing great,” Tara said, patting his arm.

“And you said you go to NYU, right? What are you studying?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t start until next year, but I’m going to study photography. I actually can’t wait to start classes, I’ve been saving up for it for years.”

“That’s really cool! What kind of photography do you do?”

“I want to study different kinds, but I love taking pictures of little moments in regular life. Like the little things that no one notices, the things that tell stories. Candid photography, I guess.”

“That sounds really interesting! I’d love to see some of your photos sometime.”

“Thanks! Yeah, Tara’s been wanting me to show her my portfolio.”

“And yet you keep denying me!” she accused.

“I’ve told you, they don’t look good on my tiny phone screen!” you replied. “I can’t exactly bring my laptop to work, can I?”

“I’m sure we can figure out a time when we can all see your amazing pictures,” Chad said, putting his arm around Tara.

“Yeah, maybe,” you mumbled, blushing a little at the praise. “It’s cool that you were able to go to the same college. And your sister, too. That must be really fun for you guys.”

“Yeah, we’re really lucky we found a place that has a good sports medicine program for me, a poli-sci program for Tara, and a film program for Mindy. Although, we probably would’ve gone to the same school no matter what. It’s important that we stick together. After all, we can’t split up-”

“Do not say it,” Tara scolded him.

“-the Core Four!”

Tara punched him in the chest and he swooped down to kiss her cheek.

“What is the Core Four?” you asked.

“Me, Tara, Mindy, and Sam! It’s what we call our little squad.”

“It’s what you call us,” Tara retorted. “He comes up with these stupid nicknames and doesn’t listen to us when we tell him they’re terrible.”

“Oh, c’mon, you secretly love my nicknames. Don’t you, Taradactyl?”

She looked appalled. “Yeah, that’s an immediate no.”

“But I thought you liked that one!”

“I absolutely do not. Get away from me.”

“Whatever. You like Core Four. You’ve said it.”

“I have not!”

“Yes you did, Sam told me,” he said smugly.

“Lies and slander.”

He stole one of her fries and she tried to shove him out of the booth, a goofy grin on her face. You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics.

“You two are very entertaining,” you commented.

“Are you making fun of us?” Tara demanded, still grinning.

You put your hands up in surrender. “Not at all. Having a similar sense of humor is important in a relationship. You two seem perfect for each other.”

“Why, thank you, Y/N. I’m glad someone thinks so,” Chad said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you thought we were perfect for each other, then you would support my nicknames.”

“Oh, shut up,” she groaned, leaning back against him. He kissed the top of her head before turning back to you.

“Speaking of relationships, are you seeing anyone?”

“Nope,” you smiled. “I only moved here a couple of months ago, so I haven’t really had time to meet anybody.”

“Then we need to get on that!” he exclaimed. “We don’t want you to be lonely! I’m pretty sure we know someone your age who you’d get along with. What are you, twenty-four?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m twenty-five, and it’s rude to ask.”

“You’re absolutely right, it is rude. I’m sorry. But you know what, Tara’s sister is right around your age, and she’s single too! Her name is Sam, she’s the absolute coolest, and- hey, didn’t you say you knew her already?”

You shot Tara a look of disbelief, but she avoided your gaze. “I do know her. I was just talking to Tara about her yesterday. And you know what, I just remembered that Sam once showed me some of her baby pictures.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, she wouldn’t stop talking about you,” you said pointedly. “It’s all coming back to me now. Little baby Tara… in the bathtub…”

“Okay, okay! We’ll stop talking about Sam!” Tara cried, her face bright red. You smirked at her.

Shouldn’t have broken your promise, you thought. At least she had the decency to look guilty.

The conversation carried on normally after that, with you and Chad discussing your favorite action movies and comic books. Tara was right, you did get along well. As it turned out, he had already seen the movie you were looking forward to seeing this weekend on your rare Saturday off. Tara had to quiet him before he accidentally spoiled it in his excitement, but he gave it a rave review. It was enough to distract you from the fact that Sam was apparently single again, at least for a little while. And when Jay called you back to work and you bid your goodbyes to Chad, you decided that it had indeed been a very exciting lunch break.

Sam found herself spending her Saturday off at the movies. She hadn’t been to a theater in months for obvious reasons, but Tara knew she wanted to see the new comedy that came out this weekend and convinced her to go. She was anxious like she always was when she was out in public, but she was glad to be spending some quality time with her sister. Saturday matinees used to be their thing, and Tara still bounced on her heels while she waited for her popcorn like she did when she was little.

But something seemed off with her as they walked toward the theater. She kept glancing behind her as if she was looking for something. But before Sam could ask her what was wrong, Tara spun around and slammed into her.

“I think the popcorn needs more- fuck!”

Sam looked down to see the front of her hoodie covered in Tara’s soda.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry, Sam!”

“It’s okay,” she sighed. “It was an accident, I’ll be fine. At least it didn’t get on my jeans.”

“Here, I’ll take the popcorn and save our seats. You go get some napkins and clean yourself up,” she said, gazing up at her apologetically. Sam nodded and handed her the bucket.

She pulled the sticky hoodie over her head as she walked, thankful that she had worn a tank top underneath it. And the theater still had the heat on despite the warming weather outside, so she wouldn’t be cold. It was still shaping up to be a pretty good day.

But before she could reach for the napkins, a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you said as you looked up from your freshly buttered popcorn.

“Y/N.”

“Sam.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to see a fucking movie, obviously,” you hissed. Sam rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I should’ve known,” she mumbled, her gaze drifting to where Tara was spying on you from around the corner. Your eyes widened in realization.

“Dammit! That sneaky little- I never should’ve told her my weekend plans.”

“What the fuck did you just say about my sister?”

“Oh, you know damn well this isn’t about Tara! This is about us, and what you did- oh my god!” You had finally turned to look at her, and your eyes immediately went to her arms. Not because her biceps were even more muscular than you remembered, but because of the long, raised scars on her right shoulder and collarbone. Any anger you had been feeling dissipated, replaced with worry and a deep-seated need to protect. “What happened?” you asked softly, instinctively reaching out to comfort her. She flinched back, her eyes startled and scared, and you lowered your arm. She stayed silent, just standing frozen and staring at you like a lost puppy. It made your heart melt, just like it always did. “Sam, are you okay?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” she snapped after a beat, her expression hardening back into the look of contempt you were starting to get used to. You glared right back at her.

“Fine. I don’t even know why I care,” you snarled. Her scowl faltered, but you just scoffed in disbelief and stomped away. That devilish woman may still have a cruel grip on your heart, but you wouldn’t let her see it.

“Hey, Y/N, I didn’t expect to see you here! How are you?” Tara called, running up to you. But you kept walking, your only response a look of disapproval and hurt.

“What the hell was that?” you heard her demand from Sam. “Why won’t you just apologize to them?”

“I told you, I can’t do that.”

Your vision blurred as you stepped out of earshot, her words hammering the final nail into the coffin of something that died long ago. You knew Tara meant well, but she’d taken it too far. You tried to focus on the movie as you entered the dark theater, but you knew no amount of explosions could save your ruined day.

All because of two minutes with Sam fucking Carpenter.

Taglist: @smut-religiously777

[breadcat-xx]

@jegulus-microfic

27.06.2024 - heal - 484 words

Regulus rarely catches anything. He hasn’t had the flu in years and can’t remember the last time he fought a cold. His immune system hasn’t let him down in a long time… Or well, it hadn’t.

Having a toddler run around the house is all fun and games until they bring home a nasty bug. Harry got it from one of his classmates; a fever, a runny nose, a nasty cough. Luckily for him, he felt better in no time. A couple of days after he first showed symptoms, he was as good as new and was able to return to class. For a while, Regulus believed that was the end of it. His hopes were crushed when he woke up the next day with an itchy throat himself.

Unlike Harry, Regulus didn’t feel better the third day. It only worsened. At first, a pain potion was enough to get him through work, but by the end of the week he found himself tied to his bed. It was awful. The only things he could currently do were sleep and use up all of the tissues they had lying around the house.

He was in the middle of a nap when he was awoken by a gentle hand brushing back his hair.

“Reg?”

Regulus hums. His eyelids are heavy and at first he can’t be bothered to try to open them. The hand feels cool and pleasant against his clammy skin, so he leans into the touch.

“It’s time for your meds, love.”

Fingers combs through his curls with practiced ease, slowly but surely managing to wake him fully. When Regulus finally opens his eyes, James is looking down with a somewhat concerned expression. James worries a lot. He fusses over him. He makes sure he stays hydrated, brings him food, reminds him to take his medication. It makes Regulus feel oh so safe.

He sits up a little so he can take the glass of water and the pills James is offering to him. He takes his meds, gulps down the rest of the water and then lies back down. A grimace spreads across his face as he does so. Everything hurts.

“Do you need anything else?” James asks softly. His hand finds Regulus’ and squeezes it.

“A hug?”

It’s selfish, Regulus knows. He doesn’t want to get James sick too, but at the same time he yearns for the comfort only he can give to him. James doesn’t seem to mind. He leans down immediately, carefully pulling Regulus into a warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry, darling.” He whispers. “You’ll be better in no time, promise… Your body just needs a little longer to heal.”

Regulus nods. He knows it’s only a matter of time, yet he can’t help but long for the day he’ll be able to breathe through his nose again.

“What about we take a nap together?” James offers kindly. Regulus couldn’t say no to that even if he tried. Soon, they’re curled up under the sheets together, James’ fingers combing through his curls once more as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

The last thing Regulus thinks before he dozes off is that if he has to be sick anywhere in the world, his husband’s arms are probably the very best place.

[resident-rats]

perhaps… 39? for chreon? 👀👀

Here you go 👀👀

Prompt: “What the fuck. Do that again. I liked it.”

Word count: 1212

[18+ under the cut]

Originally all Leon had meant to do was return some gloves. Nothing exciting. Chris had left them at his after a rather… intense night, and Leon just wanted to return the item. And maybe see the man again. But mostly the former - if he continued to believe his own lies.

It had escalated quick though, going to the BSAA headquarters, seeing the man in person, remembering that night they had shared. Seemed like they were both on the same page anyway, because before Leon knew it Chris had him pressed up against one of the gym’s walls - where luckily they were alone - already having slid hands under Leon’s top, pulling him closer by the hips. Gloves on the floor somewhere forgotten.

Leon moaned into Chris’ mouth, only encouraging the manhandling. His own fist clenched in Chris’ hair, once again feeling how soft it was, barely long enough to poke through the crevice of his fingers. Lightly nipping the man’s bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to sink in further. Oblivious to the outside world.

Fuck he needed it. After Arias everything had been a whirlwind. Chris constantly checking in, leading to him staying the night more than once, which then lead to…

It was so easy to get caught up in it all. Never thinking for a second that anything would ever be reciprocated. But alas there he was, Chris’ hands inquiring further as his lips parted, teeth knocking together every so often, feeling the desperate exhale of breath.

Perhaps though they were a bit caught up. Voices in the hall growing louder. It was Chris to pull away, glancing over his shoulder to the door.

“Shit,” Muttered to himself mostly. Then his head snapped around, looking for any other solution. Maybe they could have played it off, but realistically anyone with eyes would have immediately clocked them. Not exactly a good look for Captain Redfield. “Quick, in here.”

And just like that Leon found himself being shoved backwards into a closet. Fantastic. The thing barely big enough to hold one of them.

“What the hell?” Spoken in a sharp whisper.

“Got a better idea?” Chris matching it.

No, not really. But hiding away in a closet after making out like some stupid teenagers wasn’t exactly high on Leon’s to-do list.

Before he could reply though, that door opened. The conversation close and more than legible.

Though… perhaps it wasn’t all that bad. Chest to chest, practically feeling how the man’s heart raced. Hands brushing. Neither daring to move.

Whoever was there started using the equipment. Obviously. Why else would they have gone to the gym? Well, Leon had gone there with other things on his mind, but he wasn’t exactly the norm.

“How long-”

A finger instantly placed to his lips, stopping the sentence mid flow. He was going to protest, bat the hand away, but then he was quick to notice. The people outside sounded close. Maybe enough to discover them.

Chris body was tense. Breath almost still. But then there was a sort of miracle. Music. Playing through the gyms sound system. Not particularly loud, but loud enough to cover them.

“What’s the plan now, huh? Think that far ahead?” Still whispering.

“Didn’t see you coming up with anything better.” Chris quipped back.

“Wasn’t exactly thinking.” Earning Leon a huff of amusement.

They stood for a few more seconds.

“What, so we just wait until they’re gone?”

“Pretty much.”

“See why you’re the Captain, with your bright thinking.”

“Hey, watch it Kennedy.” The grin obvious even in the dark. Chris moving forward just an inch or two, probably without realising. But Leon did. All to aware of the knee pushing further into his groin. Applying perhaps a bit too much friction to his already riled up cock.

Biting back a soft moan, Leon lost his footing a bit. Lucky to be caught by Chris’ arms. And unfortunately doing nothing for the whole semi erect situation stirring in his pants.

“What the fuck, do that again.” Words brushing the shell of Chris’ ear, no longer caring about the people outside. “I liked it.”

“You really have no shame do you?” Though it didn’t matter, because Chris’ knee rocked upwards, thigh rubbing against the sensitive area.

Looked like perhaps they were picking up where they had left off.

“Hardly a saint yourself.” Leon’s head nestling it’s way into Chris’ neck. Basking in the sensation the leg brought. Rolling his hips against it.

One strong arm secured it’s way around his torso, a silent encouragement.

By then Leon was fully hard, not that it took much. Angling himself tactically, ensuring attention was applied to all the important bits. Straining into the denim.

Again, Leon caught himself before another moan slipped. Not quite forgetting where he was.

“Shh, gotta be quiet.”

“Think I don’t know that?”

In that position he could feel Chris’ erection as well, clearly enjoying it just as much as he was.

If Leon wasn’t careful he’d be walking from that building with a wet stain on the front of his jeans. And god save his underwear, which was more than ruined.

“You really can’t resist, can you?” Chris taunting low.

“Fucking-” Interrupted by his own gasp. “Fucking says you. All I wanted was to give back those gloves.” A half lie.

“Oh right yeah, because that’s why you came here, instead of just waiting until you next saw me like a normal person.” That knee. That fucking knee. It was sturdy, holding Leon’s weight. Moving just right.

“I think you’ll find,” Taking a moment to catch his breath. “This is when I next saw you.”

Not that Chris could particularly argue with that.

Though the priories shifted, Chris clearly focused on making Leon cum. Aiding the thrusts. Wanting him to fall apart in his hands. And like fuck was Leon complaining about that.

“Just take what you need, don’t think about me.” The instruction purred to him, feeling how those words moved through his body. “That’s it, just like that. That’s my good boy.”

Leon found himself having to bite Chris’ shirt to keep quiet, stifling anything that came out.

“Weren’t lying when you said you liked this.”

“Shut up.” Just about audible, spoken into the man’s shoulder.

“Come on, I’ve got you.” Grinding Leon further into him. “Just let go.”

And how could he argue with that? Cumming hard into his underwear, Chris being the only thing keeping him upright. Legs shaking, threatening to buckle from beneath. The twitch of his cock evident as more spilled out. Glad that Chris’ body continued to mask the fucked out gasps.

Afterwards felt hazy. Still feeling rather limp. Ignoring the sticky situation between his thighs

“Can’t say I saw this coming when I arrived.” Said as he attempted to regain himself.

“No but I saw you cumming.” Chris laughing a bit. Even Leon finding it entertaining.

“Shut it Redfield.” Giving him a playful smack across the upper arm before shuffling backwards.

And that was when the music stopped. Both froze. Briefly having forgotten the situation themselves. Perhaps they were okay. Could scamper as soon as the coast was clear.

Though that was when they heard it, unmistakeable.

“Looks like someone left equipment out, maybe we should put it away?”

Oh no.

For this ask game!

[lovelaurs]

...any chance you could do mystreet travis x reader where they get overwhelmed and he helps them?? Just some fluff for the fluffy guy :3 ty

Remember. Your. Water.

TAKING YOUR TIME

pairing : mystreet travis x gn reader synopsis : it was long day filled with stress, and you come home absolutely riddled with anxiety. luckily, your boyfriend travis is there to comfort you through it as you're overwhelmed by life. tags : comfort, fluff, reassurance, slight romance, but more focused on support than anything word count : 0.9k a/n : i was so excited to write this one since mystreet travis (the one i have rotated so many times in my brain) was my favorite back in middle school! i took inspiration from how my life was in college and how my anxiety slowly got worse, so hopefully that works for realism! i love using my own pain in writing!! also, i made sure to make him really endearing, so i hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST

It had been a long day.

As you closed the car door behind you, you could feel your arms ache, causing you to stretch them as you walked towards the front door.

You’d think after such a hard day that you’d come home to complete relaxation, letting your mind take a break as you slump on the couch.

But unfortunately, it seemed that wouldn’t be the case.

As you opened the door, you were greeted with the reminder that you still had several chores to do.

Since you lived alone, you set up your own reminder system to help you remember to do chores.

And unfortunately, this was one of those days.

It had been about a week since you vacuumed, and practically two weeks since you dusted, and that doesn’t even begin with your laundry as well!

You got this.

You groaned as you took off your shoes by the door, hanging your coat up on the rack next to you before moving to the kitchen to grab a snack before you started cleaning up.

That was when you noticed the sink.

Your dishwasher had broken about a week ago, letting countless dishes and utensils pile up within the basin. 

Hiring a repairman? Washing the dishes? Just two more things to add to your already dreadful day. You didn’t have time for a snack just yet.

You could feel your head already begin to bubble up with thoughts, starting to overthink everything you had to do as you approached the storage closet.

Just breathe. You can do this.

You took a deep breath in, your shoulders rising and falling along with you.

As you grabbed the handle of your vacuum, ready to begin cleaning, your bad luck seemed to double.

The handle broke off. As soon as you grabbed it, the cheap piece of plastic simply popped off without hesitation.

That was it.

You couldn’t help what happened next.

Within seconds, you fell to the floor, curling up into a ball with your face in your hands, bawling.

Irene oh why did life have to test you so.

Your cries were muffled by your legs as you folded up, pulling at your hair. You couldn’t deal with all of this right now. First you were running around outside getting groceries and your medication from Walgreens, the next you came home to everything being out of order?

Everything was against you.

At some point, you couldn’t even tell just how long you were sitting on the ground until the doorbell rang.

Apparently, life decided to make things even worse by having someone wait at your door.

Great.

Just great.

Your legs shaked as you slowly stood up, wiping the tears from your cheeks, hoping whoever was there wouldn’t notice.

After making your way to the door, your shaking hands slowly opened it, revealing a smiley Travis with a plastic bag in his hands.

His grin was almost as blinding as the rays of sun behind him.

“Hey! I thought I’d stop by to see how my Lovely was doing-” He stopped mid-sentence as he processed your disheveled appearance, a frown quickly growing on his face. “What’s wrong?” You tried to keep yourself in check, holding back your tears, but the worried look on his face? Nothing could hold you back anymore.

You sniffled once before rushing in to hug him, tightly squeezing, surprising the man.

As you stuffed your face into his chest, hiding your face from him, he slowly led you inside your house, closing the door behind him before the two of you sat on your couch.

You groaned into his chest, just letting your tears fall freely as he held you close. He played with your hair, carefully moving it out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, before patting your head while softly shushing you.

The two of you just sat there for a while, allowing you to release all your anger and anxiety through your tears as he hugged you.

Your boyfriend always was the best at comforting you when you needed it most.

As it seemed your tears were stopping, and you were left hiccuping, you moved back to look up at Travis, apologizing rapidly.

“Hey, hey, there’s no need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He slowly rubbed your back as he softly spoke. “Do you think you can tell me what’s bothering you?” You slowly nodded as you began to tell him all about what happened today, and how your anxiety was through the roof with it all. You felt like you were losing your mind.

He hummed as you recounted the events prior to your crying.

“I can help you out with it all if you’d like, we can face it all together!” He smiled as pumped his fist into the air, before kissing you on the forehead. “You know you can always just reach out if you need help, alright? I’ll always be here.”

You nodded with a smile. He was right, you had someone in your life who cared about you, someone to rely on. You can’t forget that. 

But you couldn’t help but slowly turn to the plastic bag sitting next to Travis' curiosity. What was in it?

He picked it up, opening it to show you the abundance of snacks he had brought along with him.

“A little bunch of presents I decided to get you during the day.” He chuckled, cupping your face in his palm, letting his thumb trace the tear stains on your cheeks.

“But before we get started on those chores, how about a snack, okay?”

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Ik you're working hard on the next nycv chapter buuuuuut if it's okay can i ask for more cute pre-isekai!batsis stuff with the batboys 🥺 if you're okay with it ofc!

Oh I'm always down for writing stuff about NYCV, sure I'll do like some bullet points or something

Not a chapter but y'all get some NYCV stuff too! Also to those who haven't read it this should be readable without having prior knowledge of the series so feel free to sit back and enjoy some Batboys fluff!

Tag list since it's technically NYCV content: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435 @f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnacks @akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz @lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc @rainnyydaysworld  @underworlder @franini @mayo-0-o 

NYCV!Batsis & the Batboys

[Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Dick Grayson

As we all know, he's the first batsib, talk about a high bar to reach (ba dum tss), and luckily for you he was an amazing older brother.

Fun where it counts, doting 24/7, protective when the situation calls for it, and stern when he has to be. There's a reason why you looked up to him more than your father in some regards.

Whenever he's off on a mission somewhere far away, he sends you postcards. You keep them in a box under your bed and you haven't thrown a single one away! Each card had a cheesy joke written on them, something to make you smile while he was gone is how he signed them all off with.

There was one time he was on 'Babysitter Duty' (as they later put it) and you ended up staging a bank robbery in the ballroom while he played the Boy Wonder (of course) who saved the day! (Poor Alfred was nominated to be Condiment King).

He's actually insufferable, his coworkers used to hate him because of how often he'd pull his phone/wallet/photobook/whatever could physically hold your picture just to gush and say "Look at my baby sister isn't she perfect?!" "Dude, that's, like, a whole ass teenager" "Shut up."

Although you'd always shown interest in his vigilante work, up until after the whole "I will never be a vigilante thing" much later, Dick was always very very careful in keeping you away from it. Hell, you didn't even know he was a Robin until you wandered into his room one evening when he came back from patrol.

By the time you'd figured him out, he did everything he could to keep you away from harm's way. You just weren't trained to handle yourself, and Dick would be a leader before he was your brother, as much as he'd hate to admit it. So, to keep you safe, he kept you away.

But, when he was there, he made sure to be the best older brother you could ask for. Gifts, advice, jokes, confidants, anything you'd ask. After all, he had competition.

Jason Todd

AKA, the Competition. He's the next batsib you got and so far he apparently holds the title for 'Best Sibling' (according to a ranking system you didn't know about that's being score kept by Alfred, in second place is Cass, for those wondering).

If Dick was the doting older brother then Jason was the annoying one. The kind of brother to open the door to your room, stare at you for five minutes, and walk away like nothing happened. The kind of brother to pull a 'I'm not even bothering you!' kind of move.

But, when it comes down to it, oh this dude's taking a bullet for you. I mentioned it once in the story but he'd always wanted a younger sister and bam he got one, sure he thought you were a spoiled brat at first (and in some ways you were) but hell he's damn sure he'll keep you that way if it meant you'd always be, well, you.

There were some days he'd wonder what it would be like if you'd switched places. If he was the one with the silver spoon and you were the Gotham street rat and nope, shake that thought out of his head. Without you he's sure he'd have gone off the deep end in this vigilante shit.

As much as you'd argue that you both secretly hated each other, you'd remember the time when Jason broke his hand punching Conner Kent in the face. He'd just come back to the family and while you were both getting caught up, you let slip that you broke up because he fell in love with someone else and... whoops. Good thing Tim was there to talk some sense into him.

For the record, Conner did lose his footing, but he argues it's because he was caught off guard, while Jason swears up and down it's because the Lazarus Pit made him stronger, or something like that. You try not to think about it, you're surprised you're still allowed within Titan tower.

He'd never admit it, but of the batsibs he actually knows you best. If the others have questions about what you'd like or how you'd react to something they'd ask Jason. He'd always answer in a way that would wave them off, but he's never been wrong.

Jason, as cold-shouldered as he could be, he has a soft spot for you. If he ever saw you in trouble he's definitely going to step between whatever's going on, don't doubt him on that.

Tim Drake

The first younger brother and, in his argument, therefore the best. Ironically since he was the first younger one you did dote on him a little too much, being the one "good cop" figure in the manor while he was training to be a Robin.

Of course, though you were on the civilian side of things, he actually looked up to you in ways he never could with Dick or Bruce. While they're mainly for the vigilante stuff, you're just there to make sure he doesn't forget who he is: Timothy Drake and not just a Robin.

You were really trying to replicate what your older brothers did for you with Tim, though it was only a little more difficult with his background. Hard to get gifts for someone who probably already has it, and hard to keep secrets and surprises from someone who's good at figuring them out, but you always figured out a way, and those ways always made him happy to see.

Thursdays are Tim and (Y/N) days, everyone in the family knows it. It started out as a mini tradition to get Tim out of the house every now and then and soon it became routine, it was the time you both took to catch up with each other and this especially became true after you went to college. Those times were precious for him, and he always looked forward to it.

Until, that is, other members started crashing it. It started with Dick coincidentally running into you both and suddenly now Jason's already sitting at your booth? And Stephanie? And Cass? Barbara?! What happened to Tim and (Y/N) time?!

But, he had to admit, it was rare to see them all getting along well like this. He couldn't complain, as long as you all got to spend time together that's all that mattered. And, in the end, it was always you two anyway. You are one of his greatest confidants, and he is one of yours likewise. Despite the short age gap, you often found that you shared a lot in common with him. Maybe it was because of your similar backgrounds, or maybe it was because you doted on him so much.

Tim looks up to you. More than you think, and more that you'd expect. Every time you reminded him that you were just a civilian part of it seemed wrong to him. You're as much a part of the family as he is, or as anyone is, and usually it would be him to remind you of that when he caught you distancing yourself again.

You couldn't hide anything from each other, you could read him so easily and he was just good at finding things out. And when it came to being middle siblings, well, that's a pact in and of itself.

Damian Wayne

When you'd heard about getting another younger brother, a blood related one at that, you were ecstatic. Of course, you had Tim, but Tim had his responsibilities to the Drakes too, Damian was a Wayne and so were you, it was a little different.

Sure, his appearance was... sudden. His first impressions not so great either, but you could read him well. He was so young when he came into your father's care and underneath the harsh training and the poisoned words was still that little boy he is and you were determined to help him remember that it was okay to be a boy.

Taking him to the arcade, buying him books, and treating him out for meals were just a few points off of a list of things you've done to make him feel comfortable. You're not a vigilante, you can't help him with training or anything else, but you can help him in other ways and you tried to show that to him.

It took forever. Maybe about a year or so for him to finally open up to you, but once he did it was like a triumph to you, and you knew that you did well when one day you woke up and saw him fast asleep at the foot of your bed, still clad in pajamas and eyes slightly puffy from whatever happened the night before. He's still a boy. You'd remind that to everyone when necessary.

After a while, he would come to you to ask about civilian things, troubles at school, troubles with making friends, and even troubles at galas. And every time you were there to help him out, giving him a few tips and tricks on how to avoid the paprazzi, maybe a clue here and there about what to look out for when looking for friends, and, of course, study tips so he didn't lose his mind in academy.

One day, while waiting to pick him up, there was a knock at your window. It was a woman you'd never seen before. She wore a headscarf that covered her hair and a pair of sunglasses that partially concealed her identity and, hell, if you didn't know any better you'd think that was your own mother. But something told you that she wasn't there to just say hello and, naively, you opened your door and let her in.

She sat at the passenger's seat, everything about her poised and elegant to the point that you were near in awe at her disposition and, quietly, she spoke, "thank you, for everything you've done for Damian." Talia al Ghul, she had to be, why else would she be here? You hadn't heard much about her, you'd barely even seen a few pictures of her from Damian's belongings, but here she was. "Of course," you'd answer, "I know it's not the same, but I know a little bit of how it feels to be alone." And to this she nodded, with a small smile, and with one glance out the car she left, moments later being replaced by Damian.

"So, where are we going today?" He'd ask. You'd give him a list of places, ask him to choose one, and you'd head there with him in tow. One of his favorites had always been the park.

Bonus: Bruce Wayne

I had to include bat-dad. Despite how I write him, he actually really is a good father, just not in the way you'd expect him to be. Y'all hold out for his arc, I promise it will be good!

When you were first dropped off at the manor, you didn't know what to expect from him. He was this huge imposing figure who was clad in black with a scowl on his face, you thought he hated you already. You were so young at the time, how could you have known any better?

Whenever he spoke to you, he'd crouch down and speak in a gentle voice. Whenever you'd ask him of something, even if it seemed like he didn't hear you, you'd see your answer within the next few days. He'd build you a whole other manor if you asked for it.

If only he wasn't so busy, juggling his role as CEO and Batman, he barely had enough time for the both of those, let alone time to raise a daughter, but he tried to show you that he was there in other ways. Fully funding your schooling was a given, but whenever you'd show interest in anything suddenly you'd see more of it in the manor.

When you'd expressed to Dick that you were interested in the piano, you found one in the house the next day. When you'd told Jason that you wanted to read more of a certain author, her entire collection was in the library. You once told Tim that you wanted to go to Metropolis U for college and, out of nowhere, there was an offer for a full ride. You and Damian used to go over to the Kent's to play a certain video game since neither of you had the time to bring it over and, would you look at that, the manor now has a game room.

A series of misunderstandings is what plagued this relationship. One from a father who barely felt the love of a parent and the other from a daughter who vyed for it. You both found your own way of communicating with each other, and it wasn't until the very end where it got strained.

But could you blame him?

You called him a monster.

You didn't even let him explain himself.

But, truthfully, even if you did...

He wasn't sure if you'd understand it.

Hell, he didn't even understand it himself.

All he felt was the heartbreak of realizing he made a mistake that couldn't be undone.

[silent-raven13]

Power Trip

"Got me up all night," Hobie sang to himself "All I'm singin' is love songs" He fiddle with his guitar remembering the song he listened with Miles. Some rap song from a famous rapper from the young lad's world, apparently Miles enjoys this J. Cole's music.

Meanwhile, he's here lying on his bed playing on his guitar while singing this tune. His body in a bright shade of pink, he felt flustered about what happen earlier today.

-Few hours ago-

The seventeen year old punker casually walking around Spider Society with a lit cigarette in his mouth, his dark eyes seeing all the Spider-heroes going about their day. It's a busy day like always, this time there is a good amount of Spider-heroes frantically passing by the punker trying to get on their missions.

"Pfft, poor blokes." Hobie grunts to himself at the idea these Spider-heroes are so easily brainwashed into the system. It's ridiculous. He's still surprised after everything happen with Miles and Spot, they would open their eyes with the way Miguel is controlling them.

He took his almost finished cigarette tossing it across the floor just because! Fuck the establishment!

It's such a damn how easily fooled these Spider-heroes are. He wonders why he's still- "Da-Da-dadda Da! Hm-mm MmMm," Hearing someone softly singing to themselves.

"What's dis?" He asked himself knowing that voice. He looks below the edge of the floor to find Miles sitting with legs crossed on an empty space. He had wireless earbuds on and drawing on his sketchbook being on his lap.

Hobie couldn't help himself, he uses his web shooter to launch a web to a high ceiling. Then he launch himself to swing up toward his Sunflower. He hears Miles softly singing, "Would you believe me if I said I'm in love?" The punker tilted his head as he landed on his two feet behind his crush singing about love.

Miles confidently sings, "Baby, I want you to want me!" His singing isn't good, but he does love to sing along being in tune with the song.

Hobie couldn't help but chuckle at the way the sixteen year old rocks his upper body side to side. "Haha," He playfully tap Miles' left shoulder, then he jumps from being startled at the touch.

"Ah!" Miles' Spider sense went frizzy which made the punker use his own Spider sense to calm down him. "Oh shit, man! You scared me!" He had his sketch close to his chest, "Damn, I almost threw my sketchbook!"

Hobie smirks widely, "Hah, I never knew you were a scaredy cat, Sunflower." He went to sit next to Miles' right side. "I heard you singing." Miles took one of his earbuds off to listen to his friend.

"Oh god, you didn't!" Miles' face fell into a massive frown being so embarrassed. "Fuck, I thought I was high enough so no one would hear me! Ughh, this is mad embarrassing, man." He bites his bottom plump lip which got the punker to stare very hard on those lips.

"Nah, luv. You do what you love," Hobie casually said then smirks widely, "no matter if you sound like a screeching cat!"

"UGH, you're such a dick, man!" Miles playfully slap Hobie's arm before laughing at his friend's shady comment.

The punker leans back by the soft hit having to laugh out loud, then his mid-tone magazine paper started to turn slightly pink. "Easy, luv. I'm still sore from last mission."

"Oh pfft, you can't be sore! I was the one that got on that damn bull's back!" His crush scoffs by the mention of their last mission.

The Spider Band had to fight off three massive bull anomalies, which caused Miles riding one and landing in a nasty fall. He can still feel the aches on his sides. Hobie was slammed against a wall from one bull's horns. He was luckily those nasty sharp horns didn't stab him.

"Hey, you seem like you know what you were doing, mate. Riding that bull like it wasn't your first time." Hobie flirted having to imply something very dirty that made his Sunflower's face turned bashful.

"What? Pfft, no! I'm-I-I- that was my first time riding a bull." Miles could feel his cheeks burning up. "Stop being gross!"

"What? I didn't say anything... bad." Hobie smirks widely showing off his teeth, his right eyebrow raised high, "Are you implying something else, Sunflower?"

"No!" Miles lean back seeing Hobie getting close to his face. "Stop it, Hobie."

"What? I'm just lookin', luv."

"You're in my personal space." Miles' heart pound against his chest.

Hobie gave a slight nod, "Alright. Alright. Anyway, what were you listening to?" He took Miles' right earbud to put it close to his ear to hear anything, but there was no sound.

Miles went back to sketching in his sketchbook, "Heh, I paused it, dude. I was listening to J. Cole."

"Who?"

"J. Cole! You don't know who is J. Cole?" Miles asked out loud with his doe eyes widen.

"Mate, I know Sex Pistol... that's music." Hobie added

"Oh wait, my bad... you're on a different timeline. Um, in my world there's this famous rapper named J. Cole. His stuff is pretty good." He went on his Spotify to rewind the song he was listening to, "Here." His hand went to touch Hobie's hand making the punker's body turned bright pink. The slight touch of his Sunflower felt so beautifully warm and soft.

Miles's hand lightly took his earbud from Hobie's hand then put it in the punker's right ear. The Punker nuzzle against Miles' warm hand feeling it on his cheek. the two sitting closer now. Miles gently massage the punker's cheek, "Your like a cat."

"Oh yeah?" Hobie nuzzles some more, "Like this?"

"Hahaha, yeah." Miles giggles before scooting closer to Hobie's space. This time he's being bold wanting to feel the punker, to smell that musky, cigarette and cologne on him. Miles never liked the smell of cigarettes, but with Hobie, it smelled so good on him. It comforts the sixteen year old. "Hear this." He plays the song from his Smartphone.

Hobie placed his arm around Miles' narrow shoulders pulling him close. This time he's also being bold. He wanted to smell Miles' sweet mango tropical Shea Butter, and sweet vanilla scent. He always wonder why he smell so good, so sweet and a bit woody spice to it.

"Got me up all night. All I'm singin' is love songs" The song plays making Hobie's eyes focus on Miles, who's bobbing his head at the song. "She got me up all night. Constant drinkin' and love songs..."

Miles snuggle his body close against the punker while swaying himself as he sing along, "She got me up all night..." Hobie admiring lovingly at his Sunflower's soft singing, "Down and out with these love songs..."

"She got me up all night. Drownin' out with these love songs," The song plays while Hobie made his first move to lift Miles' chin up.

"Hmm? What's up?" Miles innocently asked.

Hobie slowly got close enough to Miles' lips, so close that his lower lip gently tap against Miles' bottom lip. Then he quickly pulled away being a coward. No, he can't. Miles is his friend. "Nuthin' luv."

The young Spider-man pouts, "Oh..." He expected a kid, he felt so prepare with his eyes being closed and waiting for the magic. Damn.... Oh well, Miles lay his head on Hobie's chest while drawing.

The two sat in silence while listening to Miles' playlist. Hobie's hand covering his lower mouth still kicking himself for backing out on that kiss.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm in love?" Hobie mentally sang along to the song, he didn't think he would like it so much. Especially when his Sunflower is in his arms, "Baby, I want you to want me!"

Miles glanced up to find his crush lost in his thought, he decided to be bold. He wants that kiss! "Hobie."

"Hmm?" The punker's dark eyes snapped at the teenager Spider-man turning his body to be on his knees.

"Can you closed your eyes for a moment, please?" Miles innocently asked.

The punker did as he's told. The only person who can make him listen and follow instructions. He trusts his Sunflower. In mere darkness, he felt Miles' warm hands cupping his define jawline.

"What are you planning, Sunflower?"

"Just a little surprise... no peaking." Miles' voice rings his ears, his hands made his punker lean his head back to face toward him.

The young Spider-man took another sharp inhale. Alright, here it goes! He lean forward to plant his lips onto Hobie's full black painted lips.

The punker felt soft lips with the taste of honey, and berries. Wait, lips? His eyes snap wide open to find Miles kissing him. His whole body froze, the colors on his body quickly shifts into multiple rainbow colors, then blooming into Sunflowers and hearts images with bright pink colors. Then guitars rocking symbols pop out when he felt Miles deepening his kiss by adding a bit of tongue.

Such a sexy move. It made Hobie shudder with delight. His arms tightly wraps around his Sunflower's waist, then straight his posture to continue their kisses. His own mouth did the work too.

"Mmm!" Miles softly let out a moan.

Ohh, this new. Hobie felt his own body hot, his tongue flap against his Miles' tongue. "Mmm." He let out a low purr.

"Hmphhemph," Miles gave out a throaty chuckle, before his eyes slowly open to find Hobie's eyes meeting him. He slowly pulled away from his mouth. "Hobie, you promise!"

He felt so embarrassed.

Hobie lick his lips knowing his lipstick is a mess by the way Miles' lips were stained. "I wanted to see you, luv."

"Hmph!" Miles huffs.

"Don't be like that, darling. You kiss so beautifully."

"You're just trying to get another from me." Miles pouts at his crush.

Hobie snuggles against his Sunflower, "And? Why would that be bad?" He made Miles look at him, "Hmm?"

"It's not."

"Then? I would like another, luv."

Miles giggles before lifting his crush's face to lean in another kiss, his phone rang out loud. "Oh shit, I... I gotta go. I have to be home before my mom gets back. Maybe next time." He give Hobie a quick peck on the lips before gathering his sketchbook and backpack to rush off.

Hobie's body still pink from the kiss as he watched his Sunflower opening a portal to go back home.

-present-

"He got me open all night" Hobie sang out loud as he sat outside on the roof of his boat house, "All I'm singin' is love songs..." He stood daze thinking about that kiss. That delicious, addictive kiss.

[soc69]

Okay, so I’ve somehow fallen back into my eraser mic family addiction so here are some back stories that I’ve recently been theorising about and can’t let go of:

(Also I fully intend to make another post about specific Headcannons of how each of their dynamics with one and other work. This is pretty much entirely for my own enjoyment but hopefully other people will get something out of this too)

Yamaha Hizashi:

I’m pretty sure it’s canon that when mic was born he deafened both his mother and the midwife so I have a bit of a dark background headcanon for him based on this.

Basically, I think that mic’s mother tried really hard to raise him for a few years but I don’t think his dad was ever really in the picture (or if he was he left pretty early on) so it was just a newly deafened young women dealing with a bit of postpartum depression and a huge law suit from the doctor who delivered mic for his loss of hearing. She couldn’t work and was trying to get by on subsidy and disability checks until, eventually, she just couldn’t take it any more and handed him over to the state when he was about 3 or 4. He doesn’t remember much about his early years and luckily he was only in the system bouncing around different foster homes for a year or so until he got adopted by his moms who loved him so hard and taught him how to see the best in people. He has never once questioned their roles as his real parents and credits them with his becoming a hero for giving him the best life they could.

That being said, he grew up knowing the story behind him being placed in the system and never once held it against his birth mother either. When he was a teenager, she saw him in the UA sports festival and decided to reach out. Despite it feeling slightly awkward for hizashi at the start and his mother battling feelings of guilt when she first met him, they got past that and these days they meet up once or twice a month to check in on one another. Nowadays, mic just counts himself as really lucky to have not one, not two, but three moms in his life who all care about him and want to do what they can for him and his family.

As mic gets older, the early reckless use of his quirk as a crying kid and pre-support-gear-hero-wannabe starts catching up to him and he begins to loose his hearing. By the time he’s in UA he’s already considered hard of hearing and these days he can’t hear much of anything without hearing aids. Of course, Aizawa learned sign language at the same time hizashi did when he was first warned that he might go deaf one day and they’ve been teaching eri since she moved in with them. Hitoshi, however, already knew sign, as I will get into next.

Shinsou Hitoshi:

Soooo, we all know how fond this fandom is of giving Hitoshi the most tragic story ever and I’ve really struggled to break that cycle, so here we go.

I headcannon that Hitoshi’s mom died when he was very young, maybe even in child birth, and his father was absolutely heartbroken by this. He really did his best with Hitoshi but he was so much like the love of his life in so many ways that he could hardly look at him without wanting to sob. They had the same hair, eyes, smile - everything in Hitoshi was inherited from his mother and when his quirk manifested it was, once again, directly inherited from her.

I think, contrary to popular belief, Hitoshi’s dad didn’t see this as a curse. He loved his wife and everything about her, including her quirk, but it was just so painful for him to see it when he couldn’t see her. He turned to some less than healthy coping mechanism and, after a DUI, realised that he needed to get his life back on track if he was ever going to do right by his son.

He ended up relinquishing some of his custody to the state when Hitoshi was around 6 but retained visitation rights and would come and see Hitoshi every weekend, giving updates about his job search and making promises that he could come home soon. However, the visits gradually became fewer and further between until one day, after he had taken Hitoshi out for what he, at the time, considered the best day of his life, his social worker delivered the message that he had emigrated to US and wouldn’t be coming back. He left Hitoshi a letter apologising for not being a good enough man to take care of him and truly believing this was for the best. Hitoshi held onto that letter until he was 13 when, in a fit of rage after being fostered by the worst family yet, he tore it to pieces. Sometimes he still remembers the letter and cries that he doesn’t have it anymore because for the longest time it was the only evidence he had that someone had loved him. Nowadays though when he feels like this he knows he has three people waiting to prove that’s not the case anymore.

Since Hitoshi had been un-fosterable for the first couple of years in the group home, what with his dad still being in the picture, he basically wasted what are affectionately termed the “cute years” in the system, meaning that, as a preteen, he was pretty undesirable to potentially families. He bounced around different group homes and foster families that took in troubled youths since most people were scared of his quirk and didn’t take kindly to him trying to talk to them. He ended up learning sign language form a deaf kid in one of the homes he was in and used that to communicate to most adults so as not to scare them out of taking care of him to the point that it was put in his file that he had selective mutism.

When Hitoshi got into UA and started training with aizawa, aizawa noticed that Hitoshi was a little malnourished and seemed more skittish than the average teen ought to be. He took it upon himself to start taking him out for meals after their training and keeping a close eye on any signs or abuse or neglect in the future. By this point Hitoshi was living in a group home as it was the closest place to UA and, although there was no current abuse happening, Hitoshi had experienced some maltreatment in the past that made him cautious around authority figures and it was still all too easy for him to accidentally be neglected in such an anonymous home life.

Taking Hitoshi out for meals after training eventually turned into inviting him back to his house for meals which turned into quality family bonding for the entire erasermic clan. Eri starting calling Hitoshi ‘toshi-nii’ and asking where he was whenever aizawa came home alone after the first month, hizashi started insisting he stay the night whenever he was there past 6pm, and shouta subtly converted their home office into shinsous private bedroom by adding a fouton, removing one of the desks, and gradually clearing the bookcases so Hitoshi wouldn’t notice the added effort.

Pretty early on hizashi and shouta have a conversation about how much they both want Hitoshi to join their family but they’re equally scared of overwhelming him or putting pressure in him to say yes to them because they’re his teachers so they agree to wait for the right time. The right time eventually comes during a breakdown after Hitoshi has a nightmare when he’s staying over about his birth father. When he wakes up he goes looking for his letter before he remembers he doesn’t have it anymore and cries to erasermic that he’s all alone. It’s then that they tell him how much they want him to join their family. Cue the entire family ugly sobbing.

Aizawa Shouta:

I actually headcannon Aizawa as being the only one with a relatively trauma free upbringing. He’s just a grouch by choice.

He was, however, raised entirely by women. His dad left when he was about three so it’s been just him, his mom, and his two older sisters ever since. The oldest is 6 years older than him and the middle is 4 years older than him so he really is the baby of the family and they all treat him as such. He pretends to hate it but when they all show up for him after he gets banged up in hero work and fret over him he secretly loves the attention and it means the world to him every time they make a trip to see him.

His mother is an incredibly sarcastic women and it’s where he gets all his sass but she’s also very no nonsense and will put anyone in their place if they dare to talk bad about her family. His oldest sister is a lot like him but his middle is criminally similar to hizashi so they get along like a house on fire. That being said, everyone in his family adores hizashi and they had bets on when the two would finally confess their love for each other ever since shouta brought him and oboro over in their first year for a group project. (What they don’t know is that oboro was the one who snuck off downstairs that day and started the betting pool). When it come to eri and shinsou however, my god, ‘adore’ is not a big enough word. They would all die for those children and make sure to visit as often as possible.

Eri:

So we all kinda know eri’s history already so I’m just gonna talk about how she responded to each of her new family members.

So obviously she immediately latches onto Aizawa as her hero and Aizawa adores her. He is biologically incapable of ever saying no to her (not that she really asks for much) and spoils her rotten, so, within a few weeks of moving in she has a new everything in every color. But that much we know already so onto mic.

I think it takes her a while to get used to hizashi as she’s instinctively very cautious around new people so, as much as it breaks mics heart, he has to spend the first couple of weeks of eris adjustment period staying with nemuri and visiting every other day until she’s more comfortable around him. The change happens when they’re having a bonding day at home and eri takes a tumble and nearly falls down the stairs from the top of the landing. On instinct, mic gets between her and the stairs and pushes her back up to safety but ends up falling down the stairs in her place. Eri immediately runs down to check on him apologising profusely and is absolutely terrified of how he’s going to react but mic just immediately pulls her into a hug and starts asking if she’s okay saying he was terrified she might of been hurt and from that point on eri realised that this man would never hurt her and so when he goes to leave that night she asks him to stay instead and he’s never spent the night at nemuris since.

As we’ve already established, she very quickly accepts Hitoshi as her brother but the exact moment it happens isn’t as easily pinpointed as it is with mic. One day she was shy and reserved around him and the next she was choosing to sit closest to him over everyone else on movie nights. It was such a seemless transition that no one even really noticed (except Hitoshi of course who clocked the change immediately and had no idea what to do with the fact that this little angel wanted him as a brother and definitely went to bed and cried about it the first time she chose to sit with him instead of her dads).

[goldenempyrean]

Could you do one where both Wanda and Nat are sick and super clingy to reader and just want to cuddle

Clingy Cuddles And Warm Snuggles

〚 Notes - This req was so cute! I loved writing it! Hopefully you enjoy reading :D 〛

〚 Summary - You come home from a mission to find that the compound’s been swept with a cold, meaning its up to you to take care of your sick girlfriends.〛

〚 Wordcount - 1720 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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You sighed a deep exhale of relief as the warm air of the compound met your skin. You’d just spent a long weekend up in the chilly mountains of Canada on a solo-mission so it was safe to say you were more than thankful for the warmth. However, as you made your way inside the compound, you immediately noticed something was off. The place was actually quiet? 

That was something which almost never happened, there was always so form of background noise even if it was just the sounds of a distant conversation or the humming of background music. But no, it was almost silent. You shrugged and being naturally curious person that you were, you headed over the kitchen to both investigate and make yourself a snack. 

Luckily as you approached the kitchen you could hear faint sounds of life. The recognisable sizzle of something frying echoed down the halls. Opening the door, you were met with the sight of Clint as he stood over the cooker, making himself some bacon and eggs. The sound of the door closing announced your entrance and the Archer turned towards you, giving you a small smile. 

“Welcome back Y/N,” He came over and gave you a quick hug before pulling away to muffle a cough into his elbow, “How did everything go?” 

“It went alright, glad to be back though,” You replied as you grabbed yourself rummaged around the snack cupboard before settling on a bag of Doritos, “Where is everyone though? It's so dead in here, usually you can't get a break from the noise.” 

“Y’know I can make you some decent food if you’d like,” He smirked, nodding down towards your choice of snack, “and It’s been like this all weekend, Tony managed to spread around some sort of bug, and it's really knocked people out. This is the first time I’ve been up in a day or so” 

  “Really?” You raised an eyebrow; it definitely wasn’t like Clint to stay in bed. It wasn’t often that anyone at the compound got sick really but when they did, it always seemed to spread like wildfire, especially since you all lived in such close-contact with each other. 

“Yeah, it’s been rough. Even Rodgers is down, we had to explain that cold ‘remedies’ from the 40’s weren’t exactly scientifically accurate after he tried convincing us to ‘take a good ol’ fashioned bit of whiskey’ to feel better.” 

You let yourself chuckle at that, remembering how Steve first reacted to seeing a bottle of DayQuil.  

While you loved catching up with Clint, you couldn’t help but miss the presence of two very special people and you found yourself asking, “Have you seen Nat or Wanda anywhere?” 

Clint thought for a second, “I think they’re still up in their room, last I heard neither of them were feeling too good either so they’re probably still in bed trying to sleep this crap off.” 

“Both of them?” You asked, slightly taken aback. The pair of them never got sick often, Nat had a great immune system and whenever someone was sick Wanda was always the one to go round wiping down surfaces with anti-bacterial wipes, meaning neither of them got sick that often even if there was something going round. 

“Yeah, I don’t think Wanda’s excellent wet-wiping skills were enough to save her this time,” Clint sniffled lightheartly but he must’ve picked up on your anxious expression as he soon came over and gave your shoulder a quick squeeze, “I'm sure they’ll both be okay, go on, go and see them.” 

You nodded, sending him a grateful smile, “Thanks Clint, hope you enjoy your bacon!” You called as you left the kitchen, setting off in the direction of your room. 

It was only a quick walk to your room, as you approached the door you made sure to open it quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone inside. As light floods into the room the sight before you weren’t exactly what you were expecting. 

On one side of the bed is a bundle of blankets, the main duvet and many other blankets are all tightly huddled around a shivering auburn-haired woman, only the top of her head poking out from within. In juxtaposition to this, Natasha was laid next to her on the bare mattress wearing her favourite sports bra and one of your pairs of silk shorts. 

“Y/N?” Natasha mumbled as she lifted her head from the pillow. Her poor voice sounded so unbelievably hoarse. 

“Hi baby, a little birdie told me you weren’t feeling too well.” You sympathised as you let the bags you had been carrying fall to the floor. To your surprise Nat pulled herself up and out of the bed and shakily padded towards you. 

She’d almost reached you before swaying drastically, as she seemed to lose her balance. Luckily, you’d seen this coming and managed to catch her in your arms, wrapping one around her waist to support her closely, “Easy there, let’s get you back in bed sweetie.” 

“Mm thanks,” Natasha whispered, letting you guide her back to the bed, “It’s been a while since I was this sick. My body feels all weak.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

To answer your question, Wanda let out a wet cough and curled herself further into her ball of blankets, the sound of which led you to go back over to your bag and taking one of the water bottles you had stored in there before placing it on the nightstand next to her, “You okay in there sweetheart?” You spoke down into her hair, pressing a small kiss to the exposed part of her forehead. 

"Mmh, my body feels like it's been hit with a truck,” She sniffles as a shiver runs down her spine the feeling of your lips brush against her skin. Wanda tries to smile up at you, but there's so little strength left in her, she has trouble lifting her face from the blankets. 

“Hh’iiitshoo! ‘tschioo!” Hh-Hh’tshiew!” 

You looked over to see Nat sniffling thickly as she rubbed her nose against her wrist and judging from the overflowing trash can and empty tissue box next to her side of the bed, it becomes obvious that she’s going to need some more. 

“Bless Natty, you want me to get you some tissues?” You cooed, as you came to sit on the edge of the bed, brushing your hand down her cheeks to move back the loose strands of hair which had fallen infront of her face, not missing the heat which radiated from her, “You feel abit feverish sweetie, have you taken your temp’ recently? 

Natasha shook her head, “I took Wanda’s earlier, it was 38.6 but I haven't taken mine.”  

“Awh sweetie, that’s so amazing of you to take Wanda’s but just remember that you need to look after yourself too,” You smiled, as you kissed her warm cheek, “Settle back down and I’ll go find the thermometer.” 

“Hh-iishiew!” 

“Bless you! I’ll get you those tissues too.” 

Finding both items was easy, Nat had left the thermometer on the sink in your bathroom and a supply closet a little further down the hallway was always stocked with plenty of tissues. Coming back to the room, you placed the fresh tissue box in Natasha’s lap and shuffled up onto the bed, nesting yourself between the two women. You took Nat’s temperature first, mainly because she was the one clinging to your side and to no-one's surprise, she did have a fever. 

“Wands? I need you to come out of your little blanket bundle for me sweetheart.” You coaxed her, not wanting her brain to melt inside of her head. Even if she felt freezing, you were positively sure that she was running still a fever. 

Your suspicions were proven correct when she eventually wiggled herself free of the blankets to let you check her temp. Wanda coughed again as you helped her sit up, sneaking a hand down her shirt to rub small comforting circling along her back. 

“You should drink some of that water baby, it’ll help.” You soothed, Wanda took your advice and took careful sips of the water. Giving a tired yawn once she’d finished, she took the opportunity to lay herself over you, resting her head on your chest. 

“Comfy?” You smiled to yourself once she’d settled back down but you soon felt Nat cuddle further into your side, shuffling up so her head would rest alongside Wanda’s, the two women contently cuddling into you, craving your touch. 

“I missed you.” Wanda admitted  

"Missed you too, Wands" Your heartbeat quickening as the woman snuggles herself into your body. A small yawn escapes you as the two women lay in your arms. The bed creaked as you gently shifted your body, tucking in Natasha with a light arm around her shoulders, “I missed both of you.” 

Nat went to mumble something only both she and Wanda sneezed simultaneously instead, earning a small noise of amusement from the red-headed spy.

"Hh-hetschioo!"

"Eiiishiew!"

“Oh, bless you, bless you! Aw, my poor sweet girls, how on earth did you both get so sick, hm?” You sighed as Wanda sneezed down in her blankets again, and surprisingly she didn’t make a fuss when you reached across to grab a tissue to wipe her nose with, “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you feel so icky.” 

“Tony can't keep his gross germs to himself.” Natasha sniffled, vowing that once she was better, she’d be going over to his lab to lecture him about proper hygiene. 

“Well Tony should be very afraid then.” You smirked, knowing Natasha fully intended to give the man a piece of her mind once she felt well enough but for now, she was thankful that you were here to hold her 

“How about you two try and get some sleep, I bet that’d help a little.” You smiled, pressing soft kisses to their warm foreheads as they settled down. A comfortable silence settled around the three of them in the dimly lit bedroom. Their chests rise and fall with each breath as they drifted off to sleep.

Sure, you had tons of paperwork and a mission report that you should’ve been doing but that could wait. Being there to cuddle your sick girlfriends was the only true thing that mattered. 

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Mjolnir Syndrome: A Helping Hand

My half of an art trade with @fablepatron - find the whole thing here on ao3.

The first chapter is too explicit, but here's the second chapter Roland POV.

-

Another night watching his crew recover. Another night of patrolling the circuits of the ship, checking and rechecking, herding dumb AI back into their functions, herding dumb humans back to their responsibilities like sleeping. Most of Roland is divided into the monotonous tasks required to run a starship of this size and to care for a crew of this many talents. However, there was a negligibly sized portion of his focus on the single operating War Games sim and one Spartan Miller.

He didn’t play favorites. (Statement: untrue.) He had a handful, maybe. (Also untrue.) But that came with the territory of being a shipboard AI. Lots of handshakes and handholding. It made sense to keep an eye on a specific few in Command. Really. Just as a way to get a read on the rest of the crew and understand the social systems in place. That was the real reason Roland was watching Miller beat himself up in the wee hours of the morning, and why his subroutines flagged more processing power to monitor the Spartan as his vitals peaked.

There’s a spark of brain activity and a rapid release of cortisol in Miller’s system. His temperature raises even further and Roland considers getting help. Nothing had changed other than the slowly ramping feedback of the Mjolnir systems. The closed system was prone to feedback loops when worn for longer periods of time without a release of charge or not maintaining proper levels with an AI syncing the NI and the various layers of the armor.

Miller hadn’t wanted his help so he was keeping his distance. Mostly.

It was strange to see the usually quick-thinking Spartan brute force his way through what was bound to be unpleasant and quite distracting sensations. Unless… he wasn’t expecting it. Did Miller not know about Mjolnir Syndrome? A fun nickname given by more season Spartans and crew in the know of the…symptoms. Is that why the sudden spike in vitals?

His favorite Spartan was easy to fluster. He’d need help soon, Roland could tell. The constant influx of sensation only built and then plateaued as Miller froze. He’d never reach overload by himself, especially if he just became aware of why h-everything was so hard.

Luckily, and with no outside input from Roland, help was on the way.

The Master Chief had noticed Miller, not for the times Miller wants to space himself over, but because like Roland, Chief found Miller interesting. Maybe it was akin to studying something and finding yourself attached, like those scientists over in xenobiology who named the new flatworms they found on Requiem. Miller was Roland’s flatworm, and he was willing to share, if it meant helping the poor Spartan out.

Chief observes Miller with a tilt of his helmet. Roland was still learning the IIs body language but he thought he was picking up amusement. The specific head tilt and slight shake of the helmet for outsider observers was one he had seen Chief use with Blue Team. But they weren’t here, it was just him and Miller and R-.

Oh. Chief was including him again. It was so strange when humans did that. Only a handful seemed to remember his presence, unless he made them. Always running in the background, ready at a moment’s notice. Well, this was interesting.

“Hello, Master Chief, fancy meeting you here.” Roland says after his ping for channel access is accepted.

“Hello, Roland. I’m assuming he’s not hurt?”

“Do you think I’d let my crew get hurt and simply let them lay there.”

“No, but I wasn’t sure if I was intruding on anything.”

That gets a pause from the AI. He’s still debating on which snarky or too-honest reply to go with when Chief checks on Miller.

"I believe Spartan Miller is experiencing some technical issues with his armor." Roland supplies. He’s helping whatever this is along. Chief’s got him thinking now, which is always a dangerous thing when you’re as fast and clever as Roland. He’d been a passive party for so long. An observer or helper, and it’s not like Miller was chomping at the bit for Roland’s help, even when his plans had been so helpful in the past.

“He’s lying to you. Not that you didn’t pick that up. He’s been active for over 24 hours. He won’t let me help.” Chief doesn’t need to know how honest Roland’s words were, or that Roland’s been watching Miller push himself for 36.3 hours now.

“Have you tried asking nicely?” Chief asks and Roland wishes he had a plinth nearby to deploy his avatar on for the sole purpose of squinting at the Master Chief. He stays silent.

Chief asks and Miller says yes.

Roland wasn’t jealous. No, he was something else. Some higher AI experience rather than some silly, illogical, human emotion. Miller would let Master Chief touch his armor and help him, but not Roland who’s always there and who knows the specs forwards and back and is so familiar with piggybacking off Gen 2 Mjolnir systems.

Miller’s fine being all sweaty and nervous and frustrated around Chief. Chief who is so frustrating and calm and never rises to Roland’s bait. Chief who’s asking for Roland’s help overriding the safety features on Miller’s armor?

The great thing about being a vast machine intelligence with unfortunate connections to human emotions is the ability to experience time differently and to save threads of oneself being petty to feel petty later. He’d put this behind him for now to help them out - help Miller out.

What’s a little power reallocation between friends?

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

How would Papa III/Papa lV react to a s/o other who came back from the dead? Maybe s/o was hiding they were immortal, got caught up in an accident, then got back up like nothing happened.

NGL I took some… artistic liberties with the reader’s ‘condition’. I hope that’s ok! It’s been a real Infesstissumam type of week for me! This is based on lore I’ve built up behind the scenes for my own personal works, and is in no way canon. But I hope you enjoy my ideas! :)

GN Reader* (Note for after prompt, see bottom)

Supernatural Being/Immortal Reader

Relationship Tension

Papa III and IV Reacting to their S/O Magically Coming Back to Life… Literally

Papa III:

-No one can remember a time Papa was this devastated. Not when he was forced to retire, not when he lost everything… This is one of the few times he was forcibly pushed to go into private mourning. Even Omega had to be called back from duty to console the third Emeritus. Papa felt his world collapsing in. A demon blooded does not give their heart so easily, so it’s catastrophic when it shatters.

- Omega is the only reason anyone believes you when you ‘come back from the dead.’ You had just been the victim of a fatal highway accident merely days before. EVERYONE in the Ministry knew about it- And word travels fast! If it wasn’t for him everyone would assume you were some imposter or evil entity trying to take advantage of the situation.

-Even though the accident wasn’t your fault, you already felt guilty. This was going to be a very awkward explanation to Papa. You’ve been hiding your true nature for so many years you didn’t even bother to tell him. How was he going to react?

-Omega was the one to lead you to Papa but stopped you in the hallway. Barring you from entering the room where you could feel the angst of your beloved. The large ghoul loomed over you, eyes cold and lacking any empathy for you. It was the first and only time you felt scared of him.

“He deserves to know. Tell him or I will… Ghuleh.”

All you could do was tremble and nod.

-Papa looked AWFUL when you finally saw him. No paint, bags under his eyes, his hair and clothes a mess. He had been rotting away on his bed before you finally walked in, practically a shell of his former self. At first he didn’t respond to you calling for him, brushing you off as another person attempting to comfort him. But when he recognized your voice the man bolted up in bed. Papa stared at you with wide eyes before he scrambled to get you into his arms.

-You were showered in desperate kisses, a crushing hug, and his near sobbing; praising Lucifer for bringing you back to him. Luckily, that lasted for a good hour as he got it out of his system. The entire time you couldn’t help but glance at Omega, who watched you both from the door way with unblinking eyes.

-When you both calmed down from your emotional reunion you were forced to swallow your pride and tell Papa what had happened. That you truly had ‘died’ in the physical sense. But you tried to reassure him it was ok! That happens sometimes, and you were fine! Papa didn’t seem to understand at first before asking if you were not human or if you had been in magic practices this whole time. Well, he wasn’t wrong!

-It was nerve wracking having him go from super emotional to watching you impassively as you stumbled over your words. Yes, you knew magic that he couldn’t sense… and technically you USED to be human. Before you know, you took an Oath and became a Ghuleh. No, not THE Ghuleh of course but- you were a long lived and skilled disciple of her power. It’s the whole reason you were granted sanctuary in the Ministry in the first place. You technically couldn’t die in the physical sense. You never bothered telling him because it’s been so long since your practiced and you were afraid he might not like you if he knew. You faced so much rejection from your magic lineage, you didn’t want to lose him too. You were just too cocky that something like this wouldn’t happen.

-Papa sat in silence for what felt like ages, staring at you once you finished. A part of you was starting to break down figuring your relationship was over. But he finally moved to take your hand and give a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Don’t you ever lie and hide from me again.”

-you cried and you both hugged.

Papa IV/Copia:

-The news of your supposed passing tore Copia apart when he was first informed. He is a strong man, but you have always been his weakness. Copia can’t cope with the idea that the love of his life has been stolen from him too soon. When Copia was informed he became a sobbing mess, nearly passed out, and was utterly inconsolable. They had to give him tome off (and a LOT of Xanax) to keep him stable. It was a second disaster all in itself!

-You hadn’t meant to worry everyone. Hell, how were you EVER supposed to predict the most random renovation accident in Ministry history! All you did was walk by one of the new walls they were putting in and… at the very least, no one else had been hurt. But it was a terribly embarrassing time for you when you sat up and walked out of the Clergy mortuary. At least Miasma got a kick out of it.

-Sister Imperator was the first person to greet you when you ‘came back.’ And she was not happy. Imperator had been the person to guard your secrets and give you a place in the Ministry. Even let you near her prodigal son. But the deal had been you disclose everything about yourself to Copia. To Tell him what you were so they could AVOID his emotional meltdowns. A small side of you had been hurt that she cared more about Copia’s feelings than your own predicament, but you pushed it aside.

-“off you go. Go make it right.” You hated how she treated you like a child and not like a fellow disciple. But she was right- you did break your promise. And now you’ve accidentally broken Copia’s heart, even if it wasn’t your fault!

-The band ghouls had been happy to see you, but Copia nearly shrieked at your presence. The Papa convinced you were some sort of trick of his mind. It took you and all the ghouls an hour to calm him down (and even more Xanax.)

-When the new Papa came back to himself he clung to you, sobbing. You could barely make out him praising Lucifer and begging you not to leave him again. You let him, he deserved to get it out. You even found yourself tearing up and apologizing. The two of you rocked each other until all the tears dried up.

-You asked to be alone when you finally got the courage to explain what happened to him. You finally explained that you were a Ghuleh, a disciple of the zombie queen and her undying magic. Copia listened but he was stuck in a look of shock the entire time. You assured him that you never wanted him to find out this way. You were hoping he’d never find out.

-The worst thing ended up happening, aside from a break up. Copia didn’t want to leave you and he wasn’t planning to. But he was horribly upset at you for keeping this from him. Copia understands as much as he can. That’s not an easy lineage to hail from in this day and age. But you couldn’t tell him AT ALL?? How could you both be so close and so in love yet you kept this from him? It took you LITERALLY DYING to finally come clean! He felt so stupid at first. That he had a break down over this and not being strong enough to tell you were this deep in forbidden magic.

-As much as you both hate it, it did take a small hit on your relationship. A son of Lucifer and Child of Ghuleh has its own magical complications. But you don’t split. Copia would never let you go over this. He just needed a little time to get over feeling embarrassed and upset. This whole ordeal has made you both closer if anything!

-Imperator is oddly pleased about this…

—

*Notes:

Ghuleh is both the name of the Zombie Queen AND her highest ranking disciples.

Anyone who is a Ghuleh is someone who achieved partial or full ‘immortality’ through the magics practiced by the Zombie Queen.

Ghuleh in this regard is a gender neutral title, and one of VERY high honor.

In my work Ghuleh is NOT to be confused with ‘Ghoulette’ or any feminine nick names for Ghouls. They are separate categories.