#this is not even to mention the actual ‘just be yourself. they already love you!’ he gifted me with a few months ago

[one-green-frog]

Family Knows Best

Platonic Yandere Batfam x male reader

(I couldnt really find a good gif)

The signs had been obvious. Almost too obvious. But here you were, trapped within the walls of Wayne Manor, surrounded by a family whose love for you was more intense, more consuming, than anything you had ever known. The strangest part? You didn’t mind.

Maybe you should be scared. Maybe you should be fighting to leave. But, really, wasn’t this what you had always wanted? A place where people actually cared about you? Where they loved you unconditional?

It all started with a simple visit.

Damian Wayne had walked into your small pet clinic one late afternoon, accompanied by a boy his age. In his hands, Damian held a tiny duckling, its fluffy yellow body trembling against his hands.

"It was alone," he had said, his voice sharp but carefully controlled. "I suspect its mother is dead. What are the chances of its survival?"

The look in his eyes told you just how deeply he cared and how scared he was for it's survival. He was young, but his concern for the creature in his hands was genuine. You reassured him that with the right care, the duckling would grow strong. You even offered him advice on raising it, though, deep down, you had wanted to keep it for yourself. Unfortunately, due to the lack of space you opted for another option. This boy, Damian Wayne, had probably enough space for the duckling, not to mention the resources he had and most importantly, the heart to care for something so small.

What you didn’t realize then was that your kindness had sealed your fate.

In the weeks that followed, the Waynes began appearing in your life in a frequency that couldn't be coincidence. First, it was Jason Todd, walking into your clinic to ask for advice for a "stray" cat he "found", you later realized that the cat was already part of the family for years. Then Dick Grayson, whose excuses were flimsier—he had seen a stray dog outside and thought he should check if you had seen it, then he lingered in your waiting room, babbling on and on about the most random things. Tim Drake came next, standing awkwardly in your doorway as he asked for information on exotic pets, his eyes scanning every inch of your tiny clinic as though analyzing everything about you.

It felt... odd. Wayne money didn’t typically find its way into the rougher parts of Gotham, yet here they were, weaving themselves into your routine, your space, your life.

Then the flowers started arriving.

Every morning, a fresh bouquet sat at your doorstep—rare, expensive arrangements that made it clear this wasn’t some random act of kindness. No name. No note. Just a silent reminder that someone was watching. At first you thought it was an accident, but the bouquets continued to show up, it made it obvious they were meant for you.

You told yourself you should be creeped out. But no one had ever sent you flowers before. No one had ever gone out of their way to make you feel special. No one would be bothered if you took them into your flimsy apartment. No one would complain and the flowers made your apartment kinder, nicer and just lovelier to wake up to

Then, one evening, Bruce Wayne walked into your clinic.

It was different from the others. The moment he stepped inside, the air in the room shifted. He didn’t rush, didn’t hesitate. He moved with an easy confidence, his deep blue eyes fixed solely on you. His usual playboy smile on his lips that could melt anyone, and yet here he was, looking at you as if you were royalty.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, his voice smooth, warm.

You were frozen in place. The billionaire, the man Gotham worshipped, was standing in your dingy little clinic, smiling at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

That was the beginning of the end.

He returned often. Sometimes he brought gifts, small, thoughtful things that showed he had been paying attention. A book you mentioned wanting to read. A coat after he “noticed” the thin fabric of your usual one. Every gesture was perfectly calculated, yet felt so natural, so effortless, that you found yourself leaning into his presence without a second thought. He came by at the same time everyday and you found yourself watching the clock closely, heart speeding up whenever it was almost time for his visit.

When he invited you to dinner at Wayne Manor, it felt inevitable.

And when he suggested you stay the night after a few glasses of wine? That, too, felt natural. It was late, Gotham is dangerous, not to mention that you didn't want to bother the nice butler.

When you woke the next morning, disoriented but warm beneath the heavy silk sheets, Bruce was already there, waiting with a tray of breakfast. His smile was soft but filled with something deeper, something darker.

“I’m so glad you’re here", he said with the same sweet voice.

Something was wrong. You knew something was wrong. The prince of Gotham not only invited you to dinner, let you stay the night and now he is in the room with a tray of breakfast? It was simply to weird to be true. But he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and for the first time in your life, you felt seen. You felt like you belonged on this place

So you stayed.

And stayed.

Days bled into weeks. You told yourself you could leave if you wanted to. That nothing was keeping you here. No one really forced you to stay. And yet... you couldn’t leave, it was like a higher force told you that you were right where you belonged, where you were cared for and loved. And then there was the family, so warm, so eager to keep you close. You weren’t a prisoner. Not really.

You were theirs.

Dick was the easiest to get attached to. He was light, warmth, and safety all wrapped into one human. Movie nights with him turned into deep conversations about life, love, and loss, his struggles with relationships, especially with his family since he works outside of Gotham. He would confide in you, let himself cry against your shoulder, and then whisper how much he needed you to stay, how no one had ever made him feel this way before. “You’re the only normal one here,” he would say, his fingers tight around your wrist. “You make everything feel right.”

Jason was different—quiet, intense, always hovering near but never too close. He would accompany you on walks through the gardens, listening more than speaking. When you talked about books, about the things that made you happy, memoriesfrom your childhoos, he would nod along, his face unreadable but always at peace. But you noticed the way he would subtly recommend books you might like, covering it under the guise of "a friend recommended it, but i haven't had the time to read it yet, why don't you give it a try", the way he perked up when you actually listened and bought the book and said you enjoyed it. He was quiet, but you could feel it—the way he held on to every word, the way his presence lingered long after he was gone. His action spoke of how much he looked up to you, a father-figure that he had a normal relationship with.

Tim was an enigma. He barely slept, barely ate, but he always seemed to be there. At dinner. During family time. During late-night kitchen visits where he would sit across from you, a coffee cup in hand, while you ate a bowl of cereal. He would ramble about theories, about mysteries in books he read, some "case" from a the series he watched and though you hardly understood half of it, you nodded along, letting him talk. He needed that. He needed you. A presence that didn't tell him to quiet down, didn't butt in to tell him he was a bit too paranoid.

And Damian? Damian clung to you. Always following you around, like a puppy. It started small—sitting beside you, leaning against you, watching you with sharp green eyes. Then came the possessiveness, the way he would glare at his brothers when they got too close, the way he fell asleep in your bed without asking. Not much time had passed before he called you brother

“I will not betray the honor of being by your side,” he had murmured one night, curled up against you. It was meant to be a statement, not a question.

And then there was Bruce Wayne. The man that looked at you as if you hung the stars. He cared for you like no other, always making sure you were alright. He spent most of his free time with you and he made sure you knew that he appreciated the way you brought the family together. Family time before you would often lead to fights, regret or just utter silence, but with you here, someone so ordinary in a special way the time spent together was peacful. Even Alfred the butler always smiled at you.

At this point you couldn't leave, be it because of you or because of the family that would made sure you wouldn’t.

They weren’t going to let you go. You were part of their family, their brother and son, the light of the manor.

And worse?

You didn’t want to leave.

Because no one had ever loved you like this before. No one had ever looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world. It was sick, it was wrong, it was obsessive.

But it was also love.

And maybe that was enough.

Being a part of this family was probably the one thing in your life that felt right.

DC has a grip on my life rn, so feel free to request something. But other than that, i hope you all have a great day :)

[nicsnort]

Sweet Cream

NSFW 18+ male minotaur (Tyrus) x female reader

Contains: lactation, milking, hucow, overstimulation, romantic Valentine's date, size difference, and physical transformations

Word Count: 3927

Lore/World-building prompt

Today is Lover's Day, and you wanted to do something special for your minotaur boyfriend. He loves the idea of milking you, but since you aren't ready for calves yet, you find a witch's potion to help you in making his fantasies come true.

Same minotaur character and reader found in After Party but it isn't necessary to read that one first

~

You had been seeing Tyrus for nearly three months. The relationship was going well by your standards. He was as sweet as cream despite his imposing minotaur figure. After he learned how attracted you were to monsters, he was a bit overprotective while on dates if other monsters were around, but he felt no threat from humans. However, Tyrus still snorted at any human men he caught staring at you to scare them off. Human or monster, Tyrus did not need to worry about you breaking up with him to explore your options. The two of you got along well, and you found yourself catching feelings for this minotaur who could have been a one-night stand. Not to mention the sex. The sex with him continued to be as amazing as the first night - even more so as your body adjusted to the magical effect of his minotaur essence so you could actually participate instead of just letting him use you as a sex toy. Though that was still fun to do sometimes.

After every night together, he took such good care of you. But Lover’s Day was approaching, and you wanted to do something for him.

Tyrus loved to talk about milking you during sex. It was one of his biggest fantasies. But to milk you, Tyrus would have to get you pregnant. A three-month relationship was not long enough to consider something as permanent as a calf, and both of you were busy building your careers either way. 

Then you saw it on the corner of the internet where Teratosexuals discussed their stigmatized desires but also solutions to problems they faced in their relationships with monsters. A link to a witch’s webshop that provided various potions and remedies of a sexual nature. And for sale - Moo-duce. 

The lame attempt at coming up with a clever name aside, it was exactly what you needed. A potion that would cause anyone with mammary tissue and nipples to produce milk.

You ordered the potion immediately, and it mysteriously appeared on your kitchen counter the next day. Magic was great. The potion would take 24-36 hours to produce the first milk, and the results would fade after three days or so. You drank the potion a day and a half before your Lover’s Day date with Tyrus. You wanted to make sure your jugs were full of milk for him. There had been a warning that the mammary tissue and nipples would likely be uncomfortable during the 24-36 hours of growth and milk production, especially for first-time users. Tyrus was worth it, though.

After a couple of hours, your breasts started to feel tender. A few hours later, you noticed the first signs of swelling, indicated by your breasts continuously popping out of your bra when you moved too much. By the time you went to bed twelve hours after ingestion, your breasts felt like pins and needles.

The users had recommended massaging your breasts to alleviate the feeling. So, lying there in bed, you cupped your breasts, imagining Tyrus’ hands as you massaged them. You could feel the increased weight already. They had to have swelled a cup in size. Pulling on your nipples, you imagined how it would feel to have milk pouring from them. Tyrus’ lips already felt amazing when he sucked on them, but to have pressure released when that happened? A few reviews said their nipples felt as sensitive as clits.

You couldn’t wait.

In the morning, the pins and needles had faded, but now your breasts felt hot. You walked around your home with your shirt and bra off. Luckily, you had the day off. Sometime after lunch, you suddenly felt a cool tingle around your nipples. A wave of excitement crashed over you. Biting your lower lip, you slowly looked down with anticipation. Leaking out of your areolas were several white droplets of milk.

You danced excitedly. It had worked! 

Raising a hand to your breasts, you wiped the droplets away. Your fingers lingered over your nipple. You wanted to tug on it. You wanted to feel the release. Breathing out slowly, you fought down the urge. No, Tyrus would have the honor of being the first to milk you. You wanted to save it all for him. You were meeting him for dinner tonight.

A few hours later, you started to ready yourself for your date. As you walked, you swore you could feel the milk sloshing around inside of you, yearning to be released. You had pre-bought a larger bra for this evening, but as you put it on, you realized it was too small! The instructions said to expect a growth of one to two cup sizes, but as you quickly measured yourself, you realized you had gone up three and a half!

Fuck. There wasn’t time to go out and buy another. Unless you paid the exorbitant costs of InstantImp, there was no chance to get one that fit. You weighed the options in your head. You had bought a cute but baggy sweater for a top. Despite it being baggy, people would definitely be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra…damn it.

Opening up InstantImp, you managed to find the same bra in your new size. Of course, there was an increase in fees due to the holiday. At least you could return the other one you bought. Putting in your order, it took ten minutes for the delivery Imp to knock on your door. In your straining bathrobe, you answered the door.

The imp’s wings kept him at human eye level. He wore a bored expression, but his eyes perked up at the sight of you. His flat bat-like nose flared. “Mmmm, moo moo,” he commented, “Thirsty. Give tip?”

“I’ll report you,” you told him shortly, taking your package. The imp pouted and muttered something under his breath in its natural language before teleporting away to pick up its next delivery.

Imps were useful creatures, but their grasp of manners was as lacking as their grasp of the mortal spoken word. It didn’t help that the Imps bound to InstantImp had been created during the Great Incursion by the Demon Lords. At least, this way, they served some purpose instead of wandering in hordes, spreading corruption, assaulting people, and causing chaos. However, you were unsure if, as one of the last corporations, InstantImp was any less evil than the Demon Lords. Was it still the exploitation of labor if the creatures were literally created to serve others?

Finally, you were able to get dressed. The baggy sweater was less baggy than you had wanted, but as you examined yourself in the mirror, it was hard to tell any difference. If anything, it looked like you were wearing a padded bra.

At six, there was a knock on your apartment door. Opening it, you saw Tyrus, his big black-furred form filling the doorway, his horns barely missing the hallway's ceiling. “Omorfia mou,” he greeted, holding out a bouquet of red flowers - gallic roses, traditional for minotaurs, or so you’ve read.

“Tyrus, my handsome bull,” you replied, taking the roses and inhaling their scent. They were lovely.

“They are enchanted; they will stay fresh for over a month even without water.”

Your smile grew wider as you set them on the kitchen counter. You will find a vase for them later. Locking your door, you took Tyrus’ arm and headed outside. “So, are you doing to tell me where you are taking me yet,” you asked as he led you down the street.

“No,” he replied with a devious expression. “A surprise means a surprise. Perhaps I should blindfold you and simply carry you there.”

“A tempting thought, but I shall pass for tonight.”

“Are you sure? I could put you on my shoulders. I know how much you love to hold on to my horns with my head between your legs.”

“I believe I would be the wrong way around for the position I enjoy.”

“True. Then I could hold you in my arms, princess carry?” The two of you continued to make sexually charged banter back and forth. While Tyrus never did carry you, you completely lost track of where the two of you were going. All according to Tyrus’ plan.

“And here we are,” he announced after a ten-minute walk after getting off the tram. He gestured to a brickwork building with a large ornate wooden door that looked like it belonged in a castle. Old World was inscribed in iron-wrought letters above the door. You had heard of this place. It was a restaurant that catered to monsters and those from beyond the Rift, or the Old World as they called it. It was hard, if not impossible, for those from this plane to gain access.

You gasped and hugged Tyrus as tightly as you could. Your milk-filled breasts leaked slightly from the pressure. “Really? Are you sure it's okay? I mean - I’m allowed in?”

“No, this is just for me; eat elsewhere,” he said, barely hiding a smile as he spoke. Then, he could not keep a straight expression. His ears twitched with delight as he chuckled. “Yes, it is alright, Omorfia mou. They are doing a Lover’s Day special for those with human partners here.”

While plenty of food from beyond the Rift had shown up in restaurants, those recipes used ingredients from this plane and were changed to fit the norms here. This was as true to Old World food as you could get in this plane. 

You danced excitedly, only collecting yourself as Tyrus led you through the front doors. A kitsune welcomed you, its tails swishing majestically, before leading you to the reserved table. It seemed they knew the sizes of those who would be eating at the table as Tyrus had a sturdier chair with his size, and you had a taller one to put you at near equal height to the table. Looking around, you saw all sorts of accommodations for various monstrous bodies. Unlike the human world, those beyond the Rift were used to adjusting for a variety of needs.

The dinner was a whirlwind of new experiences. The restaurant had created a tasting arrangement for the humans in the restaurant to give them the full experience. You tried roasted mimic, braised sunroots, fermented ooze noodles, and a whole variety of other things that you quickly forgot the names of in your excitement. You washed the food down with samples of Oakengleam Stout, Glowing Mushroom Wine, and Cinder Cider, the last of which caused you to breathe out a bit of smoke with each exhale. Finally, the tour of foods ended with a slice of heart apple pie.

“They say that those who share heart apple pie on Lover’s Day will have a passionate and happy year together,” Tyrus told you, offering a bite off his fork. 

“Oh, that is very romantic,” you cooed, a blush on your face. Around the restaurant, several other people were making similar comments, as their lovers had probably told them the same thing.

You wrapped your lips around the bite he offered you, a bit more sensually than needed, then offered him a piece of your own slice. A romantic year you hoped for indeed. 

Once dessert was finished and the bill paid, the two of you began heading to Tyrus’ apartment. It was a twenty-minute walk or so, but during that time, you noticed something. Your breasts were beginning to hurt. You could feel the pressure inside of them building up, needing release. By the gods, you needed to be milked.

“Are you alright, Omorfia mou,” Tyrus asked as you reached his apartment building. “Did a dish not sit well with you?”

“No, it was all delicious,” you replied. You leaned into him as you entered the elevator. “It was the most wonderful surprise…Under my clothes, I have a surprise for you, too; it has just gotten a bit uncomfortable…”

Tyrus snorted with anticipation, his tail lifting and curving to show excitement. “Well, then, let us get it off you soon.”

You giggled to yourself. He thought it was lingerie.

In his apartment, your excitement only grew. Your nipples ached, longing to be touched, pulled, and suckled on. Tyrus wrapped his arms around you from the back, pulling you against his firm body. His fingers played with the hem of your sweater, slowly pulling it up. “Can I have my surprise now,” he asked.

You hummed in anticipation, turning around in his arms, your aching breasts brushing against his firm chest. “Oh, yes, you may.”

Tyrus’ thick, calloused fingers dragged along your sensitive sides as he pulled the sweater up and over your head, revealing your plain blue bra. You saw his brow furrow and ears flick with confusion. “Uh, it is a very pretty color, Omorfia. A push-up bra?” 

You laughed aloud. “That isn’t the surprise, silly. I never said it was something I was wearing. You see, I bought a potion from a verified witch to help make your fantasies, our fantasies, come true.”

As you spoke, you reached back and undid the strap to your bra. Pulling it away, you revealed your milky tits. “As you asked me on the night we met, can I get you a drink?”

The bull went silent as he took in your leaking nipples. You watched as his pants tented, his member growing rock hard at the sight of your milk-filled breasts. “Nomízo óti eímai erotevménos mazí sou,” he said in his native language as quietly as a prayer.

His hooves scraped against the floor as he kneeled before you. Usually, he would lift you up on the table or counter, but now he got down on your level. His large hands cupped your breasts. Your breasts had grown so large that they now overflowed his grasp instead of being engulfed by it. Tyrus snorted with pleasure as he lifted your heavy globes. His hot breath made your nipples stand at attention, milk dripping from their pores.

“Please, Tyrus. I need you to milk me.”

That broke him.

His broad tongue swept out across your right breast, licking up every leaking drop before finally wrapping his hot lips around your nipple. With a mighty suck, you felt the milk rush out of your breast, through your nipple, and pour into his eager mouth.

Your eyes closed, and your head tipped back as you moaned with pleasure. Gripping his horns, you held him in place. This was ecstatic. Each strong suck sent a jolt down your spine to your pussy. Soon your cunt was dripping as fast as your milk.

After a long suck, Tyrus broke off from your right breast and switched to the left one. You gasped with pleasure. With each strong pull of your tit, you felt your pussy clench like a slow, extended orgasm. “Fuck, Tyrus. I feel like I’m gonna cum just from this.”

He snorted, the speed of his suckling quickening. He took your words as a challenge. 

The muscles of your cunt clenched faster and faster. Gods, you were getting close. Your hands tightened on his horns. Your hips rolled, desperate for that little bit of extra to push you over the edge. You were so close. You were gonna--

Then Tyrus broke his mouth off again, leaving you at the edge of your orgasm. “Noooo,” you whined, tears forming at the corner of your eyes in frustration.

His hands held your breasts up, and he pressed them together. Lowering his head, he captured both of your leaking nipples in his mouth and sucked. Twin streams of milk shot out of your breasts and down his throat. You screamed. Your eyes rolled back in your head. Your hips shook violently as you came hard. He continued to gulp down your milk, extending your orgasm.

Finally, your body couldn’t handle it anymore. Your hands released his horns as your legs gave out from the pleasure. Tyrus caught you, releasing your breasts to hold you up. Lifting your feet off the ground, he carried you over to the sex swing he had installed a couple of weeks ago. With surprising strength, even for being a minotaur, he tore your pants off you, but the sound of ripping cloth didn’t even phase you. Your cunt was still twitching with aftershocks as he placed you in the harness face down so your breasts hung like a pair of udders.

“Look at you, agápi,” he praised, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “just like a cow. My little hucow with milk leaking from your tits.”

Another rip of fabric, and you felt his heavy cock rest between your swollen needy lower lips. You could smell his precum. The heady scent alone caused you to moan. His hot member rubbed against your pussy as he reached around you. Tyrus’ strong hands cupped your breasts once more, his thumbs and forefingers sliding down to pinch your nipples. Then he tugged.

Milk sprayed out of your tits. You threw your head back as your back arched with pleasure. Rhythmically, Tyrus began to milk your tits. First, the right nipple was pulled, then the left, repeat. Each tug on your nipples sent a stream of milk to the floor. You felt like a cow, and you loved it.

Your hips rocked, grinding against his cock. You wanted it in you. You wanted to milk his cock with your cunt as he milked your breasts. Your clit dragged across the silky skin of his dick. So soon after your first orgasm, it was already driving you back toward the edge. 

“Tyrus, Tyrus,” you began to chant in sync with your milking. “More, I need. Mo-mo-moooooo.”

You came once again, your juice gushing over his shaft. Tyrus relented his stimulation. His callused hands slid across your skin and held your hips. He pulled his cock back and began lining it up with your unused but soaking hole. “Listen to that, just like a real cow. Usually, it takes my cum down your throat to do that.”

The flared head of his weeping dick pressed against your pussy, slowly sinking in. Each glorious inch sent you further towards the edge of sanity. It was too much, but even so, you wanted more. Through the mind-numbing pleasure, you tried to ask for more again. Still, all that came out was a series of soft moos and moans.

He began to move your hips back and forth using the swing instead of thrusting.“But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be my breeding cow. Just think how much milk you’ll make when you are heavy with my calf. I’ll keep you bred just so you are always full of milk.”

All you could do was hang there in the swing and let Tyrus use you like a toy. Each time he snapped your hips back to hilt his cock inside of you, the force caused milk to drip from your tits. As he spoke, his pace sped up. “You’ll be hooked up to a milking machine. Spending hours on end cumming from your tits alone. Then, when I got home, I’d breed you over and over and over and over and - gah - Moooooooo!”

Tyrus mooed himself as he came deep within you. You could feel his hot, creamy seed filling you up, pouring into your womb in search of an egg to fertilize. Once more, your inner walls clenched, milking his cock. You wanted it all. He was right; you just wanted to be a cow. His breeding cow.

With his cock still rock hard within you, Tyrus lifted you out of the sex swing and deposited you on the bed. It was going to be a long night.

~~~

You awoke to the bright afternoon light seeping into the apartment through the windows. Tyrus’ chest rose and fell steadily underneath you, his half-hard cock still deep within your pussy. Tyrus was already a beast in bed, but perhaps it was true that fresh milk was an aphrodisiac for minotaurs because he had fucked you for an hour straight, fell asleep, then woke up and fucked you some more.

Your body was so relaxed and delightfully heavy. Tyrus had drained your breasts of milk last night, but you already felt them filling up again. You were starving, though, and extremely thirsty. Carefully, you lifted yourself off of Tyrus, your sore but sensitive pussy twitching as his cock was freed from inside of you. Sliding off of him, your body felt heavy; your head, in particular, felt like there was more weight on it. Strange.

The movement woke him. “Mmmm, kaliméra agápi mou,” he muttered sleepily.

You recognized the first word, good morning. “It is far past morning, I think, but it is a very, very good afternoon.”

“It's Time for breakfast, still,” he replied, his eyes still closed. “Perhaps some fresh milk?”

He grinned and cracked his eyes open to look at you. A sudden look of confusion crossed his face, and he blinked rapidly. Sitting up to look at you properly, he stared. “Am I still dreaming?”

“No?” Your ears flicked with curiosity. Tyrus’ tail brushed against your leg. You looked down and saw that his tail was firmly on the opposite side, far from you. Turning your head further, you saw another cow’s tail, the same color as your hair, sweeping back and forth against your leg. Reaching down, a growing look of horror on your face, you followed it up…right to the base of your spine.

All tiredness in your limbs was forgotten as you bolted off the bed to the full-length mirror. Reflected at you, you saw your milk-swollen breasts, your normal body, but three very unexpected things: a swishing cow’s tail, a set of cattle’s ears in place of your human ones, and a pair of small shiny black bovine horns sticking out the sides of your head.

You screamed.

It took several minutes for Tyrus to calm you down. You sat at his kitchen table on his lap, sipping tea while he stroked your back calmingly. “The reviews and warnings never said anything like this,” you bemoaned.

“You are sure it was a verified witch? Not someone trying to make quick coin?”

“Yes, I mean, I am pretty sure…so many said she was trustworthy, people who are big names in the community…I followed the instructions precisely. I mean, my breasts grew more than expected, but that’s it.”

Tyrus thought for a moment. “Did anything else weird happen yesterday? Anything unexpected?”

You shook your head. “I just did housework and caught up on a few shows. The only unexpected thing was that my bigger bra didn’t fit, and I had to order a new one at the last minute.”

Tyrus hmmed in contemplation. “Wait, how did you get a new bra?”

“I used InstantImp.”

“Fuck. Tell me, did you anger the imp somehow? Did it say or do anything strange?”

You furrowed your brow, trying to recall. “The imp smelt my milk and asked for a drink as a tip…I told him I would report him…he…fuck. He muttered something in that demonic language of theirs and disappeared.”

Tyrus snorted with anger. “That little fucking Imp cast a spell on you. Their magic is supposed to be bound.” He sighed and pressed his snout to the top of your head. “Don’t worry. Until we figure this out, at least you will get to be the cutest cow I have ever seen.”

_____________________________________________________________

Other Department of Monster Affairs works

Hello Neighbor - m!werewolf x f!reader, teratophilia, knotting, heat. One-shot.

Sex Therapist - m!Incubus x f!reader, hypnotism, dubious consent, teratophilia, blow jobs. Part 1.

For other works see my masterlist

[signanothername]

While, Murder is unable to be as sneaky or cunning as Killer due to him feeling 24/7, and getting replaced the most meaning most Murders are lacking knowledge compared to the other Killers or Horror, does Murder!Sanses frustrate Nightmare the most? You mentioned before that Nightmare likes control, and he can usually puppeeter Killers and Horrors quite well, but Murders are the most wild ones, and ones to not have any weak point for Nightmare to manipulate, since they cannot do crap to Dusttale, Murders' Papyruses are dead, so Nightmare doesn't any way to make them stay in line. What will Nightmare do? Torture him, it ain't like the human didn't already mentally or physically torture him, kill him, it would probably amuse Murder to make Nightmare snap like that. While, sure, Murders do suffer as seen when their escape attempt failed, they seem the most determined to not give a flying fuck about Nightmare's control, and test, disrespect or ignore it the most. Also you mentioned 'last Dust', does that mean that eventually Nightmare stop recruiting Dusttale Sanses?

I’d say yes and no

Nightmare does get a bit frustrated with Murder in general yes, but one of the reasons he keeps getting Murder under him anyway is not only a love for control (even when Murder makes it really difficult) but also because he finds it a tad bit amusing, he finds Murder amusing, for Murder to have this absolute fire spirit of defying him, is like playing a little game of control with Murder, the same he does with Killer

But the reality is, no matter how much Murder defies him, or escapes, or how he talks back, Murder is still stuck under Nightmare’s mercy, because the reality is Murder cannot always escape even when he attempts it, sometimes Nightmare makes sure to remind Murder of how powerless he truly is

So despite the fact Murder lacks clear weak points, Nightmare is still willing to take the long route to see if he could break Murder, take one in, entertain yourself with them, learn about them, apply what you learned to your next attempt, rinse and repeat

Nothing will change the fact Murder has a will of steel, but it also will not change the fact Nightmare still breaks him little by little, and if actually given ample time, Nightmare is completely capable of snuffing that fire out, but that’s the catch, he doesn’t, he makes sure there’s always a fire guiding Murder’s actions, because a Murder without a fire is just a useless broken toy that he played a little too rough with than he actually wanted to

Nightmare loves to see that fire within Murder, loves to see his defiance, loves to see him look him in the eye and talk back like he’s nothing, because it means that Murder is still thriving, still has use to him

Nightmare’s desire to break Murder, is not in the form of completely snuffing his fire out, but simply to keep him in line, to simply control that fire so he can manipulate it to do as he pleases, to guide it to where he wants it to go

A Murder without a fire is just Killer

A Murder with little fire left is just Horror

He already has Killer and Horror, he doesn’t need a husk of a Murder that just acts like Killer, or Horror

As for stopping the recruitment, yes, he does stop, but not just Dusttale variants, when Horror escapes and he kills the last Murder he had under him, he completely stops recruiting all together, this means he doesn’t get another Killer beyond Killer 5, doesn’t get another Horror, or another Murder, Nightmare stays within his lonesome in his castle for a very long time afterwards, it’s not a Murder problem, it a Nightmare emotional/mental problem

[highvern]

Dessert First (TEASER)

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x f!reader

Genre: baker! mingyu, wedding planner!YN, fluff, smut, angst, exes to lovers

warnings: lots of mentions of food

Teaser Length: ~1k | Full Fic Length: ~15k

Note: bringing back my boo mingyu for @camandemstudios Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab. check out all the amazing fic (26 in total) on the master list. everyone has worked so hard and im so excited to read them thank u pookie @gyuswhore for beta reading

summary: You've got a great life. Your wedding planning business is booming, your clients are great, and you're finally over your ex-boyfriend after years of pining. Or you are, until the universe decides to test if those three things are actually true.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Comment to be tagged in the full fic coming February 17th!

It started with the coffee maker.

By all accounts you could buy a completely new one that actually worked but some sentimental part of you liked the baby blue machine with scratched enamel and an inability to brew a full pot in less than twenty minutes. If your coffee maker worked the way it was supposed to then you wouldn’t have left your apartment ten minutes late. And if you hadn’t left your apartment ten minutes late then you wouldn’t have arrived on the subway platform just as the train doors closed, forcing you to wait another ten minutes for the next train and by then the mist of rain outside devolved into a biblical downpour leaving you soaked to the bone despite a rain jacket and an umbrella. 

At least the binder containing every last detail of your life for the next two months is safe.

Sprinting down the street, your shoes squish through filthy puddles. No point in taking the extra time to dodge them, you’re already twenty minutes behind schedule with a ruined pair of brand new loafers. The only saving grace is Will and Sarah’s, your clients, habit of running at least thirty minutes behind. Which is why you told them the meeting started at 10AM and not 10:30. 

So technically you aren’t late. Yet. But you planned a thirty minute buffer to meet with the pastry chef and discuss color scheme, flavors, and logistics before Will and Sarah arrived to ensure everything went smoothly. As smooth as it can with clients that believe more is more and have no budget. 

The cafe bustles to the brim with people trying to escape the tsunami outside and enjoy something sweet. Damp businessmen sip cups of coffee while thumbing through damp newspapers, college students cram over notebooks with cookies by their side. A group of moms cluster on the couches, baby toys and lattes strung across the table while they share the latest playground drama. You can see yourself bunkered down at the table by the wide bay window, typing away emails and finalizing calendars with a hot cup of coffee and one of the massive croissants displayed on the counter.

Will and Sarah insisted on using Dessert First for their cake. They had their first date here and you can see why they love it so much. The display case sits packed with cakes and pastries; tarts with jewel like fruit, iced treats that make your mouth water. The heavenly scent of almond, vanilla, and coffee clouded the air. Plants hung from the ceiling, a shelf in the far corner stacked with pre-packaged goods to go.

You can almost forget the chill seeping into your veins from the cozy aroma of vanilla and espresso. A perfect oasis in the middle of the overcrowded city.

You’re still ten minutes early according to your watch. Plenty of time to devise a battle strategy with whatever unfortunate baker owns this place. You couldn’t find anything about them online, no pictures or reviews that mentioned them by name; only one article in the city newspaper announcing the grand opening last year which obviously resented a bakery replacing the former pizza shop that was shut down due to a myriad of legal issues. Who knew money laundering was so prevalent?

Even when you called to schedule this meeting you couldn’t get a name, just one of the cashiers promising to put you on the calendar before hanging up without asking for any of your information.

Stepping towards the cash register, a lone employee taps a quiet beat on the counter with his fingers, lost in his own world. Vernon, his name tag reads. You're almost certain this is the same man you spoke to one the phone.

“Hi.” You plaster on your most convincing smile, hoping it distracts from the wet mess of your…everything. “I’m supposed to be meeting with the pastry chef. I’m—”

He cuts you off with a snap. “You’re the wedding planner lady, right?” 

“Yep, that’s me.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here. You want a coffee?”

“A coffee would be great,” you sigh in relief. 

“Cream? Sugar?”

“Nope, just black,” you nod. “Thanks.”

Vernon fills a mug almost to the top before sliding it across the counter and disappearing into the back with a swish of the kitchen doors. While he grabs the mysterious baker, you head towards the table in the window. It’s perfect. You can see the entire cafe and the street, with plenty of space for everyone to gather around. Plus, it’s far away from the A/C blowing steadily on the opposite side of the cafe.

At best, you hope your new colleague will take the stress of this wedding for the premium pay. Sarah and Will want a lot but they’re willing to put their money where their mouths are. And unfortunately, they’re nice. Pleasant to the point you can’t fathom telling them no.

There was a point where you felt the butterflies they felt, and you wanted the same dream wedding they wanted. Maybe that’s why you’re willing to do whatever it takes to give them the perfect day they envisioned. That, and the promise of high end clients if everything goes well.

You’re too busy organizing everything to perfection on the table to notice a new presence over your shoulder until he clears his throat. This isn’t how you planned to introduce yourself but you steel against the embarrassment of the morning and turn around. “Hi, I’m—”

Mingyu.

Any hope of this working shatters into a million pieces before your eyes.

Fuck.

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@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

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@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona

[luvsferrariss]

˚⟡˖ ࣪. ʚ 💌 ɞ of shadows and sins - OO1

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Synopsis: Y/n was handpicked by their boss to help the recruiter find new players. However, it was obvious that the man wouldn’t like the girl assisting him, constantly belittling her and mentioning how weak and unqualified she was for the job. But in reality, he knew about her influence and was afraid of being replaced.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ The Salesman x Female Reader (British)

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Warnings: Typical Squid Game elements—blood, weapons, death, etc. Age gap: the reader is between 24-25 years old, while the recruiter is 40. Some angst and feelings of loneliness. The reader lives in Korea but is not Korean; she is British.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ Author’s Note: Hi loves! I’m making a short series about the salesman. I hope you all like it! English isn’t my first language, so there may be mistakes—sorry about that!

next part here ! 🤍

You sighed as you watched your coworker fail once again. The man he was trying to talk to didn’t care at all and walked right past him. You just sighed, rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms, leaning against the metro wall near the stairs.

The recruiter began walking in your direction with his chin held high, a proud—or perhaps wounded—expression on his face, and you laughed at his frustration.

“What happened, Mr. ‘I-can-do-everything’?” you teased. He simply walked past you, heading up the station stairs.

“Shut up,” he muttered, and you chuckled, following behind.

“Did you manage to do anything at all?” he asked as soon as he noticed you catching up on the stairs.

“While you wasted time talking to one man, I got four. All of them on the verge of bankruptcy—desperation was almost funny, I nearly felt bad for them.” You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your beige trench coat. “With their financial struggles and my pretty face, did you really think they wouldn’t accept?” You smirked, stopping in front of him and framing your face with your hands as if showing off.

He simply walked past you, bumping your shoulder.

“You’re so full of yourself, seriously… What’s even fun about your game? No one actually likes Gonggi that much,” he scoffed.

You just shrugged. “That’s what I was told to do. And your job isn’t that exciting either, right? At least mine is getting results. Yours, on the other hand…” You glanced up at the sky as you stepped out of the train station—it was already nighttime.

“Can you shut up for a single minute? I already have to deal with you all the time. For the love of—just stop talking, girl,” he snapped.

You simply looked at him, already used to his sudden outbursts.

“Oh, baby, don’t be sad. Tomorrow will be your day, and you’ll manage to recruit some people. Besides, aren’t you the boss’s impeccable, invaluable favorite recruiter?” You pouted playfully, stopping in front of him again, this time by your car. You cupped his face in your hands, only for him to push them away and roll his eyes.

“I’m not arguing with a brat… Why don’t you just go back to your family?” he said, setting his black suitcase down and rubbing his chin. “Oh, right. I forgot. You don’t have anyone because no one can stand you. Your parents abandoned you, and your fiancé cheated on you…”

He spoke slowly, and when his gaze met yours, he noticed a brief flicker of vulnerability—but you quickly masked it with a smile.

He almost felt bad for you. Almost. But he didn’t regret saying it, and he would do it again if necessary.

“Whatever. Family is just a burden. I don’t need anyone, and I can live just fine on my own. Besides, maybe you should be worried, huh? The boss would never have sent me to you if he didn’t think you needed help. Maybe he realized just how useless you are.” You winked and got into your car.

As you started the engine and rolled down the window, the man remained standing there, lost in his thoughts, trapped by your words.

“Hey, baby, don’t walk around alone at night. This area is dangerous,” you teased before driving off.

He simply clenched his jaw, a growing resentment bubbling inside him.

He saw you as a threat. You would never take his place.

( . . . )

When you arrived at your apartment, you tossed your keys onto the table and hung your coat in the closet. You placed your shoes inside as well before closing the door.

With a sigh, you headed straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the hot shower—you really needed this. The water cascaded down your body, relaxing you, and a tired sigh escaped your lips.

Your mother and father would never have been proud of the person you became, but that was their fault. They were the ones who raised you the “right” way. Any mistake was met with punishment.

You became cold, sarcastic, and quiet around others. But no one ever really knew you. No one saw the pain, the fear, or the scars you carried from a disturbing childhood.

You had a slight fear of showing emotions or affection to anyone. There was only one person you had ever felt comfortable with, but even they betrayed you. So now, you truly had no one.

That day in the alley changed your life—but you still wondered if it was for better or worse. Everything felt strange. You felt strange.

Some days, your emotions felt numb. Other days, you just wanted to break down and cry with someone. But everyone you had trusted either betrayed you or left you traumatized. You would never trust anyone again.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turned off the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel, drying your hair with another. You went to your room, grabbed some pajamas from your closet, and got dressed. After brushing and drying your hair, you applied some perfume and walked into the kitchen to make some tea.

One of the perks of living alone and having no friends was that you could use the guest room however you wanted—so you turned it into a library.

Once your tea was ready, you grabbed a book and headed to the balcony of your penthouse. The cold air brushed against your skin, but somehow, it didn’t bother you.

[devixxish]

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 1277 | 15 paragraphs

18+ MDNI. NOT proofread, smut/slight fluff, mentions of female anatomy, dry humping, dom! Geto, reader goes a lil dumb, condescension/humiliation if you squint real hard, choking, mild dirty talk, badly written brainrot, light banter towards the end, y'all are so cute ngl,, lmk if I missed anything, mwah

A/N: I thought of making a lil sumn to explain my sudden century long disappearance, but um. Take this instead 😃 Horny brainrot ahead. Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked.

Both of his hands splayed along the small of your back as you settled comfortably on his lap, thighs straddling his hips. Your own hands lightly trailed up his biceps until they took claim of his shoulders, fingers clutching into his shirt and skin alike. Lips meld against each other, desire, need, and desperation mixing, making your heads fuzzy, dizzy, leaving you both craving for more, more, more.

Pressing harder down on his covered cock, you felt him growing harder against you as both of your hands began tugging on your shirts and groping each other's bare skin. You felt his large hands slide down your sides towards your hips, fingers sliding over to grab the fat of your ass, giving it a squeeze before he slowly guided you to grind against him. A sigh of his name slipped past your lips, followed by a breathy moan against his lips. You thought you heard him groan, voice deep and gravelly, but you couldn't be sure; the friction was almost too much, your head already gone as you felt the fabric of your panties cling to your sopping folds, rubbing against your clit deliciously.

Seconds tick by. Perhaps minutes, even hours. You couldn't know. You didn't care enough to know, not as you felt Geto's lips leave yours in favor of trailing down your jaw and neck, sucking and nipping on your sensitive skin, his tongue immediately smoothing over the love bites he left behind to soothe you. He surely groaned then, you clearly felt the light rumble of his chest as your one hand made its way up for your fingers to curl into and tug on his black strands. Suddenly you felt his head pulling away from where it was hiding in the crook of your neck, causing a small whine to sound from you. His eyes settled on your form on top of him, lidded and blown wide with lust as he took you in - and god damn, you were a vision. He could swear right there and then that he had never seen anything as beautiful; eyebrows slightly scrunched, eyes screwed shut, lips slightly parted, swollen and glossy with spit. Your body swaying along with the movement of your hips, tank top hanging low on your chest, giving him an eyeful of your pretty tits.

His one hand left your ass and instead came all the way up to cup your jaw. Lost in the haze of pleasure, your mind didn't register the silent command, causing him to halt your grinds against him with his other hand as his grip on your jaw tightened, pushing your cheeks together. "C'mon, eyes on me, baby.", you heard his order loud and clear, spoken in his gruff voice which always made your body tremble. You had no other choice but to obey. Your eyes immediately met his piercing gaze, the purple hue of his irises barely visible, and you squirmed due to the intensity of it. You wanted to hide, to just bury yourself into his neck or chest and leave his line of sight, but the hold he had on your jaw prevented you. A small smirk tugged on the corners of his lips, obviously enjoying your surely flustered expression. "That's a good girl, that's it. Feelin' good?"

An eager nod and you immediately squeak out a breathy, "y-yes..", almost embarrassed by the desperation lacing the tone of your voice. Almost. You were in no right state of mind to actually care about the small details you usually did; you were solely focused on the pleasure he so generously gave you. That pleasure only intensified when you felt his hand slide off your jaw, only to wrap around your throat, the edges of his fingers lightly squeezing as you let out a broken moan at the sensation.

"Yeah?", he repeats in question, the smirk ever evident on his face to pair with the condescending tone of his voice. "You like grinding your pretty pussy on my cock, my hand around your throat?", he asked with a sharp jolt of his hips against your already sensitive cunt, emitting a loud whine from you. "I know, pretty girl, I know. You're so wet f'me already, I can feel it."

You felt your cheeks burn up, but you still rapidly nodded your head as yet another whine slipped past your lips. Your eyes fell shut, finding the pleasure overwhelming. Despite that, your hips worked faster, his hard cock nudging against your clit repeatedly, driving you closer to the edge. And he, too, couldn't hold back. His cocky demeanor was obviously getting overpowered by his own pleasure, and when you blinked your eyes back open, you found him with his head thrown back against the back of the couch, his eyes squeezed shut and his bared throat bobbing as he gulped.

A small groan and a curse under his breath sounded like music to your ears, your cunt clenching, empty and wanting. "God, fuck, baby," he breathed out, hand still wrapped tightly around your throat as his hips uncontrollably bucked against your own to meet you halway. "Pretty pussy feels so good. 'M gonna cum soon."

His breathy statement made you mewl, and in an effort to be closer, to feel him as close as possible, you surged forward to crash your lips to his, whimpers, moans, and groans becoming muffled. The sound of your clothes rustling mixed with the obscene squelch of your wetness, but you could only focus on the way he was practically devouring you and your impending climax.

All it took was maybe a few more seconds of your frantic movements before you were shoved straight off the edge.

Your lips left his as you loudly cried his name out, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Your thighs burned and quaked, struggling to close as his hips were in the way, keeping them nice and open. Geto rutted up against you once, twice, before you felt his body shudder underneath your own as he, too, found his own release with a grunt and a sharp "fuck."

Both of you remained silent as you rode out the pleasure, slowly coming down. Your body practically melted into his own as you let out a quiet sigh, your breath fanning against his heated skin. After a short moment, you felt his one hand cradling your reddened cheek, guiding your head up to press a slow, tender kiss on your lips. The earlier tension had all but dissipated, leaving in its place the sweet afterglow and the slight embarassment you were unable to feel earlier.

The kiss broke after a few seconds and you slowly fluttered your eyes opwn, only to find Geto staring at you, his own cheeks tinted a bright pink and a small smile spreading across his face. "I can't believe you just made me cum in my pants.", he spoke up after a moment of shared silence with a light scoff of a chuckle. And you, despite your still jittery body and newfound fatigue, giggled, "What can I say? Guess I'm too much for you to handle, after all."

"You're a brat, that's what you are", he retorted with a pinch to your hip, but his voice held no real irritation. You laughed harder at that, slowly sliding off his lap to land next to him on the couch, your body pressed against his side, "you love me.". His head turned to look down at you, pure adoration in his eyes even as he let out a chuckle, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders.

"That I do, sweetheart. That I do."

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 12

Y'all are getting two chapters today because a little silly someone, won't @ because they haven't asked to be tagged in the tag list and Idk if they'd like the call out but they know who they are, liked every chapter and I loved your little comments so I finished chapter 13 so I can post this chapter only fueled by your excitement 🥰🥹

CW: people are getting their ass beat, so mention of blood and decapitation.

Masterlist || First || previous<< Chapter 12 >>next(TBC)

With Nolan completely refusing to face anyone lately, and the announcement that the guardians are dead, you had to get away. You couldn’t sit and wait for him, couldn’t cry over the guardians, couldn’t sit by and watch how worried Debbie was every morning when he’d left. You just couldn’t.

So, while Mark went to university with Amber and William, you cashed in your vacation days and let the shadows lead you away over the seas to Romania. Softly landing in the Hoia-Baciu Forest felt—surprisingly—like home.

The whispers of the shadows nudged you around the forest, deeper and deeper, past the oddly shaped trees straight to a burnt circle of land where dried trees grew. Walking past the circle changed the scenery, from gloomy grey trunks to moss-covered, flourishing weeping willows circling a little lake.

Walking back to the edge of the circle, you stuck half of your body out and back observing the change happening right before your eyes. It seemed to be a Midnight City magic dome thing. Inside the dome, it was quite beautiful, the astilbes and the Japanese irises giving some color to the landscape. Your hands softly traced the taller flora as you got closer to the lake, lifting off the ground to move towards the center where a small piece of rock was.

This was a great place for an altar and the shadows greatly approved, too. Sitting on your ass, crisscross apple sauce, you placed your hands on the smooth surface, transfiguring it to expand and even out a bit more.

By the time you were done setting wards so no one could find the place and adding the actual altar and the statues for Lady Gotham and Death it was already so late.

With a small sigh, you place yourself in front of the altar once more. You were never religious, your biological mother didn’t care, Bruce didn’t, the Graysons didn’t- it felt awkward to pray to them. Constantine mentioned that praying to them could just be talking to them, they’re not Yahweh, they’re not Allah, they don’t abide by those rules.

So, you didn’t either. You thanked them for the blessings they gave you, hoped they were well, and told them about your day, leaving them with a bowl of sliced apples and some flowers, deciding to visit the rest of the country while you still had a few days of vacation.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Went to Mars, almost got killed by Martians, got the shit beaten out of me for trying to help the Titan, got half of Teen Team- er… the new Guardians in hospital. Also, his one guy in the college was kidnapping male students he saw as peak alpha males and modifying them to essentially turn them into robocops wannabes consisting of no free will and mech bodies, including William’s boyfriend, for the betterment of the human race.” Marks sighs tiredly. “Amber and I broke up and made up again. Told her I’m Invincible… she knew.”

Debbie just looked at her son, before turning to look at you. Maybe she should stop asking how everyone’s day was. “Don’t look at me like that, ma. For once I had a normal day. Visited a lot of places in Romania after finding a little nook for my altar and got some presents for you two and our friends.” You shrug as you take another bite of food. “How was your day?”

Your mother smiles. Well, maybe she shouldn’t, it was the little normality she had in her life. “Sold a penthouse to a billionaire who had a set of all gold teeth.” You snort at that. “That’s one way to show off.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Since sunrise Mark has been searching for his dad and once he did, he immediately tackled him, rolling through the air for a bit before stopping. “Where have you been?! Why haven’t you said anything?” Nolan didn’t get to respond Mark continued. “Are you cheating on mom? Do you have a second family or something?”

“What?! Of course not! Why would you-“ Nolan stutters at the audacity. “Because one day you just decided to up and disappear! You barely come home anymore- Do you even love us anymore? I need you to think about it before you answer- really consider it, because I want you to mean it truthfully- Do you love us?”

The older Viltrumite couldn’t hide the shock, the anguish as he actually thought about it. Loving them meant going against his mission- to a small degree, sure, he could still finish it- but- “Yes... I-I do. I truly love your mother and you deeply. I love your sister just as much. You three are very important to me.”

“Then stop this- nonsense!” Mark waved his arms around. “You’ve been missing for almost two months, barely come home to sleep- You know how paranoid my sister is, she’s making plans over plans on how to take you down because she thinks you snapped and are trying to conquer the planet.”

“She thinks I plan to conquer Earth?” Nolan asks softly, hands clenching at his side. “Yes! She thinks me and mom don’t know but I found her encrypted files- she thinks now that you know the Viltrumites can create offsprings that have powers with humans, you have started making plans to take over. She thinks you killed the Guardians because they could have slowed you down, maybe even stopped you- she thinks you’ll come to me and ask me to help- that you’ll come clean and confess that the Viltrumites are- are these-“

Mark couldn’t finish… How could he? You didn’t come up with these ideas out of thin air- you had evidence. Circumstantial evidence- but it still was so compelling, too many coincidences to be just nothing. “She made plans that could take me down, too. Just in case I would accept to help you- she’s gone mad, dad. And- and I started to believe it too.”

Mark looks at his father, straight in his eyes. “So I need you to come home, to talk to us- I don’t want to believe it- I don’t want to think that you’d ask me to do such bullshit.” The young man clenched his fist. “Please tell me she’s wrong- because if she isn’t- I won’t help you. I’ll do anything to stop yo-“ Mark didn’t finish as Nolan threw a punch, breaking his mask and making him bite his cheek.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Honestly, Eve, I can’t believe you didn’t dump Rex the first time he cheated.” You sipped on your soft drink as you walked with Eve. “I know- It’s just- we both-“ She tried to come up with a reason, just a tiny one to try and keep her pride. “You both got your powers in a lab- yes. I know. That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve the respect of a man. And I can’t believe Kat jumped at the first opportunity- is the ‘not your bestie’s ex’ not in the girl rulebook anymore?”

As Eve opened her mouth to respond to that, what came out was a gasp of shock as her eyes caught the fight happening on the news. “What? Are the news more import-“ As you tuned to look behind you at the TVs in the electronics shop your mouth dropped with the drink you were holding.

The flashing pictures of Mark and the Immortal fighting furiously against Nolan make your blood run cold. The robot cameras that were flying around the men managed to pick up some of the conversation, mostly Immortal furiously yelling but- “This isn’t you! You don’t want to do this! You just feel like you have no choice, but you do!” they caught Mark too.

“Is your dad being mind-controlled?” Eve asks, clearly worried as she looks at you. “No…” Is all you say before you disappear with a breeze of air. It wasn’t a good idea to travel via magic right now. Eve caught a glimpse of Omni-man decapitating The Immortal before she changed into her costume and tried to keep up with you.

Somewhere in space, the League of Justice and Laughing Magician could only watch in terror as the news kept up with the man and his son. “Please don’t… Please don’t try and stop him.” John’s whispered payers were met only with Batman’s suspicious glare. “We should go and help!” Superman’s worried pleas was quickly shut down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Mark couldn’t register everything his father yelled at him as they fought through the air, and he definitely could not after being thrown into the ground and punched twice. But he could answer one question. “You and her… I’d still have you and my sister, dad.” And Nolan hesitated on his third punch. But you didn’t.

Your hit threw Nolan off Mark, making the older man crash into a crater of his own. You didn’t let him get a break. “I trusted you! We all did!” Punch after punch, the ground beneath his head created a bigger and bigger hole. “Mom and Mark love you! I love you! And you go and chose them?!”

You didn’t even notice when John Constantine popped in, almost stumbling through the portal as he ran to your brother, racking his brain for every healing spell he could use. He didn’t care that Bruce would corner him when he went back and interrogate him about this, not when you needed him.

“What is so important about them that we didn’t give you?! You haven’t seen them in years-“ Your yelling cracked as you sobbed, your tears mixing with the blood of the man. Why didn’t he choose you? “Why not us? Why them?! Why are you letting me beat the shit out of you?!” As your hands clenched above your head in a double axe handle motion, ready to turn his face into mush, you’re stopped by your brother’s voice calling your name.

Your fury turns to fear and worry as you look towards him, getting up just to stumble towards him and John. Your tears clouded your vision as you fell to your knees by Mark, gently holding his hand as you inquired about him. “I’m fine- just like, five punches to the head and a throw to the ground.” He croaked out, flinching slightly as his nose set back into place while John continued doing his best to heal the young man.

“In other universes, you either die or get the snot and spline beaten outta ya- this is so much better kid.” Constantine immediately cringes at his words, his eyes meeting yours as he instantly apologizes. “- I should have told you, hen-“

The sound of the sonic boom doesn’t even make you flinch. If Nolan wanted to run away, that was fine by you. “I knew. Nobody is that kind just to help out of the goodness of their hearts.” You said softly, reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. “I should have done more. Should have told the Guardians or someone about my suspicions, my plans on how to deal with him-”

“You made contingency plans?” At your stutter and confused look, Mark could only laugh, immediately getting what the man meant. The rumors of Batman’s paranoia were true after all. “She even made a few for me in case I accepted.” John huffed in amusement at that. “Well- then we better keep you away from the Bat, he may just adopt you.” Some of the League’s members couldn’t hold in their laughs at the utter disgust your face showed. “With my track record of father figures you better keep the furry as far away from me as possible.” Constantine could hear Hal's laughter from where he sat as she finished speaking.

“We should get going before Cecil shows up.” You sigh while helping Mark get up. “We’re moving again? I just got here…” Eve said as she finally landed, getting Mark’s other side. “You both were hard to find, and I missed everything.”

“No need- I can help with that.” John groans as he gets up, brushing his pants off before he opens a portal to Mark’s home. “Alright, let’s get the lad home.” He lets the kids through first, and before he steps in too, he makes sure to flip off the robot cameras, just for Bruce.

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae @alittletiredcry @kittzu @plsfckmedxddy @blackhood1229 @nxdxsworld @leeiasure @dandelion-delusion @lovebug-apple @sillysealsies @tsxukikami @enchantingarcadecreation @alishii @d3nnji @itsberrydreemurstuff @yuyuzi-ling @welpthisisboring @1abi @mxvoid26 @persephone-kore-law @bluevenus19 @ryuushou

[bradleysass]

Euphemia Potter - @into-the-jeggyverse - wc: 543

Regulus adjusted his cufflinks for what had to be the fifth time in the past two minutes. He wasn’t even wearing a full suit, just a nice sweater over a collared shirt, but his hands were restless, smoothing down invisible wrinkles, making sure his sleeves sat just right.

“Shouldn’t we stop and get a housewarming gift?” he asked, glancing sideways at James, who was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other fidgeting with the radio.

James shot him a knowing look, eyes twinkling. “Reg, they’ve lived in the same house since before I was born. Pretty sure it doesn’t need warming.”

Regulus frowned. “It’s polite.”

James reached over to squeeze his knee. “You could walk in empty-handed, insult my mum’s cooking, and call my dad’s potioneer career overrated, and they’d still love you.”

Regulus made a noise that could have been a scoff or a nervous laugh—it was hard to tell. “I doubt that.”

James’ expression softened. “I promise, love. They’re going to adore you.”

Regulus exhaled sharply and looked back out the window. Meeting new people had never been easy for him, let alone making a first impression that actually mattered. And meeting James’ parents after three years together? It felt monumental, as if they’d been existing in their own world and were now being asked to prove they could function in someone else’s.

James had been endlessly patient. He never pushed, never made Regulus feel guilty for needing time. But now that it was finally happening, the weight of it settled heavily on Regulus’ shoulders.

“Is there anything I shouldn’t say?” he asked hesitantly. “Anything I should avoid?”

James hummed thoughtfully. “Well, maybe don’t mention that time you said Quidditch was just ‘grown men fighting over a flying golf ball.’”

Regulus groaned. “You promised to never bring that up again.”

James grinned. “Sorry, sorry. But really, just be yourself.”

Regulus wrinkled his nose. “You say that as if it’s a good thing.”

James pulled into the driveway and put the car in park before turning fully to face him. “It is a good thing. It’s the best thing.” His voice was steady, reassuring. “And if you feel overwhelmed, just squeeze my hand. I’ll be right there.”

Regulus glanced at James’ hand, already held out for him. He hesitated only a moment before sliding his fingers between James’. Warm, steady, grounding.

“Alright,” he murmured. “Let’s do this.”

James grinned. “That’s my boy.”

They stepped out of the car together, walking up the familiar brick path to the front door. Before Regulus could hesitate, James knocked, and within seconds, the door swung open.

Euphemia Potter stood there with a warm smile, her arms already outstretched. “You must be Regulus,” she said, pulling him into a gentle hug before he could protest. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Fleamont appeared behind her, grinning as he clapped James on the shoulder. “And you brought our son home in one piece. Good work, Regulus.”

Regulus blinked, startled by the immediate warmth. He barely had time to process before Euphemia ushered them inside, talking animatedly about dinner and insisting he make himself at home.

James caught Regulus’ eye and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“See?” he murmured. “Told you they’d love you.”

[da-extroverted-introvert]

Are we even friends? (tasm!Peter Parker x reader)

Fandom: The Amazing Spider-Man, Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 2.66k

Warnings: angst, death mention, grief

So I had a burst of inspiration and wrote this. I haven't seen the Andrew Garfield Spiderman movies in a hot minute so things may not be entirely accurate but please just roll with it. Working on a part 2 already, hope you enjoy. Please leave feedback!

Dividers by @lavendergalactic

Despite the gnawing feeling deep in your gut, you bring yourself to unbuckle your seat belt and walk out of the car.

You sit in the car and take a few deep breaths. You clutch the bouquet of flowers in your hand, trying to will yourself to step foot out of the car. Even after three months, this is hard to do. It’s like the first time all over again. The grief hits you just as hard as the day of the funeral.

You walk through the long, long aisle of headstones and grave markers. A bunch of people long gone who you’ll never know. It breaks your heart to know that to other people visiting loved ones, Gwen Stacy is just another headstone. Another person nobody will know again.

You finally make it up to Gwen’s grave. You kneel down and gently set down the bouquet. You stay kneeling there, just staring at your best friend’s name.

You take a deep breath before you start speaking.

“Hey. It’s me again.”

You pause for a moment, almost as if you’re expecting a response, even though there hasn’t been a single response throughout the many times you’ve been here.

“My grades are doing really good now. Applied for a few scholarships, and I actually think I might get into an Ivy League.”

You smile gently, knowing Gwen would be so proud of you. Whenever you doubted yourself, she would always encourage you. You remember the countless nights of her helping you with homework, telling you how much you’ve improved. She even said she was positive you’d get into the same school, becoming roommates and actually living together. Like sisters.

“Everyone in school misses you. They still talk about how amazing you were. How smart and how nice.”

Just yesterday you were walking down the hall past Gwen’s locker. There’s still plenty of pictures and decorations commemorating her. It gives you hope that Gwen will not be forgotten for a long time.

But you also think about the looks you get when you walk by. The sad, pitiful looks. You hate those looks. You also think some of those odd expressions are looks of confusion, as it was so weird to see you without Gwen Stacy right in front of you. You’ve always been Gwen Stacy’s best friend. People don’t know how to react seeing you without her.

“Uhmm…Peter misses you.”

You always choke up a bit at this part.

“We all do, of course, but especially Peter. I try to visit him every day. He doesn’t really talk to me though.”

Not that he talked to you too much before Gwen died, but you still felt like mentioning it.

“He just kind of sits in his room all the time. He hasn’t been in school much.”

The few times he has shown up in school, he just kind of ignores everyone. He must be getting tired of those pitiful looks in the hallways too.

“I’ve tried looking out for him. Like…like you would’ve wanted.”

God, you hate this. You really hate this.

“He just won’t let me in. I know he’s not going out as Spider-Man anymore, but he’s just not doing anything. He just sits in his room all the time. Not talking to anyone. Not even May.”

If he isn’t even talking to May, why would he talk to you?

You take a deep breath and finally stand up fully, your legs aching from kneeling on the hard ground for too long.

“I’m actually headed to his place now. I know he probably won’t talk to me, but I’ll still try. For you.”

You try to keep the tears back.

“Even if he doesn’t talk to me, May still lets me hang out. You know she makes the best food.”

You stare at her name again, not wanting to say goodbye again. But you know you have to.

“Anyway, that’s all. Thought I’d keep you updated. I’ll visit same time next week.”

You can almost hear her say goodbye to you. But you know it’s in your head. So you finally turn around and go back to your car, preparing for yet another uneventful visit to the Parker residence.

You knock on the door, preparing to put on a happy face in front of May. She’s such a sweet lady, you don’t want her to worry too much about you. She already has to worry about Peter, and you don’t want to put any extra stress on her shoulders.

Sure enough, May answers the front door with her signature sweet smile.

“Hey there, sweetie! Come on in, I just put on a pot of coffee, you must be freezing out here.”

She ushers you in and you revel in the warm atmosphere of the home.

“Thanks, May. I appreciate it.”

She dismisses your statement with a wave.

“Think nothing of it, hun.”

You sit down at the coffee table while May gets the coffee ready. While she does, you look around the home, which you’ve done countless times at this point.

Your favorite thing to look at is the picture on the wall of Peter. He must’ve been young, maybe sixth grade. In the picture, he’s at a science fair, holding up a nice red ribbon with “1st Place” written on it. May and Ben are standing proudly behind him as he smiles brightly at the camera. It makes you smile, seeing him so happy. But you also get sad, wishing he had some of that childlike joy back in his life.

May brings comes back in the room with two cups of coffee in her hand.

“Here you go, should warm you right up.”

You accept the cup with a smile, embracing the warm feeling on your hands. The warmth spreads when you take a sip. The coffee is nothing special, just as generic as any cup of coffee, but knowing that May made it for you and how happy she was to see you makes it taste better.

“Peter’s in his room if you want to say hi.”

She didn’t need to tell you where he was. You knew.

“Okay, I’ll go see him.”

You take a final sip of coffee and walk to Peter’s room.

You contemplate knocking on his door. You know if you knock that he probably won’t answer you, but if you just walk in, he still won’t talk to you. So, knowing the answer will be the same either way, you just walk in.

It looks like Peter hasn’t moved an inch since your last visit. He’s just laying on his bed, covered in blankets, head turned away from you. You know he’s awake though, you can tell by the way his body slightly tensed at the door opening.

“Hey, Pete.”

You speak gently, almost like you were afraid to scare him off. You close the door as softly as you can behind you.

“Missed you at school. I had the teachers give me your assignments so I can give them to you.”

No response. As usual.

You don’t know how to speak to him. You never really did. Neither of you really spoke to each other before he started dating Gwen, and when they did start dating, there was only small interactions between you. But still, you liked those small interactions. They were nice. Made you feel like you were sort of friends. But now that Gwen is gone, you don’t know where you stand.

Even so, you still try. You know that’s what Gwen would want. She wouldn’t want the love of her life wasting away like this.

“Have you eaten at all today?”

No answer.

“I know you’re, like, superhuman and all, but even so, you need to have some food in your body.”

You lick your lips and sigh, getting a little bit frustrated. It’s the same thing every day. You talk, he lays there, then you go home. You don’t feel like your presence is helping him that much, but if you don’t make an effort, you know you’ll feel guilty.

“How about some pizza? I can order one and it’ll be delivered in no time.”

As expected, no response. God, this boy is so infuriating sometimes.

“I know you hear me. Your spidey-senses kind of force you to.”

It’s still weird that Peter’s Spider-Man. You only found out about his secret by accident. You just walked into Gwen’s room, without knocking of course, as best friends do, and there you saw a surprised Gwen and Peter in his suit, mask in hand. That was a few weeks before the accident.

“Come on, Peter. You need to eat something. We can’t have you wasting away in here.”

“Why do you care?”

Even though his voice is raspy and not at all loud, you still flinch. That’s the most you’ve gotten out of him in three months.

“I, uh, what do you mean? Of course I care.”

“Why?”

His voice is a little louder this time.

“Because, we’re friends, Peter. I care about you.”

He sits up in his bed and faces you. You can finally get a good look at him. His once bright eyes, full of joy and mischief are dull and bloodshot.

“Since when? I mean, we barely talk.”

You don’t really know what to say, because it is true, you never talked with Peter as much as you would’ve liked to, but you still kind of thought those small interactions amounted to a friendship.

Just as you try to speak again, he talks some more.

“We both know the only reason we ever hung out was because of Gwen. And she’s not here now. So, please, just…”

He moves his arms around, trying to get his frustration across.

“Leave me alone.”

When he says this, he looks dead into your eyes, which are slowly but surely filling up with tears. You try not to let them fall.

You’ve been wishing for Peter to say something to you for months now, and now that it’s happened, you just want to curl into a ball on the ground.

Not wanting to be in the room with him any longer, you turn around and face the door. You put your hand on the doorknob but before you twist it, you turn your head towards Peter.

“I know you never really thought of me as a friend, Peter. A part of me always knew you just putting up with me for Gwen’s sake. But I always respected you, Pete. You were kind, funny, cool. Never mean.”

A couple of tears drops fall despite yourself.

“I remember when there was that Homecoming dance. You and Gwen were going together but I didn’t have a date. I was fine staying home, but you felt bad and invited me to come with you guys. You didn’t have to, nobody was forcing you, you just offered. Gwen didn’t even have to ask you to, you just did it.”

You wipe your cheek for a moment, still trying to keep eye contact with the boy in front of you.

“It was small things like that that made me like you. You’re such a good person Peter. I mean, you’re fucking Spider-Man, of course you’re a good person.”

You take one final big breath.

“So, you may not consider me a friend, Peter Parker, but you are mine. You are my friend. And I don’t have many of those, so, I’ve got to look after you.”

You finally twist the doorknob and open the door.

“It’s what Gwen would’ve wanted.”

With that final sentiment, you walk out of his room and speed past May, who is clearly worried about the tears on your face, eager to leave this house and go home to cry.

You spend the rest of your night watching movies in your room. You’re laying on your bed in your pajamas, bowl of popcorn in your lap. You glance at the opposite side of the bed. The side Gwen would sit as she laughed at the movies with you.

You try to focus on the movie, trying not to think about Gwen so much, and also trying not to think about your fight with Peter.

Was it even a fight? Neither of you yelled, but he did make you cry. He said some hurtful things. Things that were partially true. But you still didn’t want to see him. Seeing him hurt you a lot. All you can think about was the way he looked at you, with annoyance, frustration, anger. You felt bad for him, you know he’s grieving too, but he just made your blood boil and your eyes well up with tears.

Despite this, you know you’ll still visit him tomorrow. Because Gwen would want you to. Because that’s what friends do.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in!”

Instead of your mom or dad like you expected, none other than Peter Parker walks through your door.

He’s actually dressed in New clothes, as opposed to the weeks old clothes you saw him wear earlier. His eyes look like they’re filled with guilt.

“Hey.”

You’re not used to seeing Peter Parker in your room. He only showed up a few times when he crashed yours and Gwen’s movie nights.

“Hey.”

Peter looks at the ground nervously, hand reaching to scratch the back of his head.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I have been an absolute jerk to you and you don’t deserve that.”

You nod slowly, processing his words.

“You’re grieving. I get it. It’s okay.”

He quickly shakes his head.

“No, no, it’s not okay. I know I’m grieving, but you are too. I’ve just been shutting you out when all you want to do is help. It’s not right.”

You have no words. You certainly weren’t expecting this, but maybe you should have. It is Peter, after all. He’s a superhero. Always trying to make things right.

“You have always been nice to me, and you never gave up on me, even when I completely shutting you out. I haven’t been a good friend to you, and I want that to change.”

Hearing him actual say that he wants to be your friend warms your heart more than it should.

You give him a slight smile.

“You can start being a good friend and have a movie night with me?”

At first, Peter looks shocked that you’re willing to just forgive him so quickly. But then the expression on his face soon turns jovial as you shoot over on the bed, allowing him to sit next to you.

You smile as you press play on the movie you were watching. You can feel Peter’s eyes on the side of your face, but you ignore it until you know he’s watching the movie. Both of you just sit and watch, hands leisurely grabbing popcorn from the bowl between you. It almost feels normal, natural.

It actually feels like you have a friend again. Not that he can ever replace Gwen. And you know you could never replace Gwen in Peter’s eyes either. But both of you are filling the space that Gwen’s death left. It makes things easier for the both of you. It’s nice knowing that you have each other during this difficult time.

After a while, when all is calm between you and Peter and the movie is almost over, you turn to look over at Peter.

“You know, I visited Gwen’s grave today. I visit every week. You could come with me if you want.”

Peter is still for a moment, eyes locked on the screen in front of you. You wish you didn’t bring it up, knowing that Peter is just now starting to talk about Gwen’s death, and now you may have pushed too far too fast.

But then he looks over at you, a sad but gentle smile on his face.

“Yeah. I think that’d be nice.”

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

I'd love to request something then 🥰. A David & Dwayne x fem!reader. She lives alone in Santa Carla after escaping her family and she has a hard time adjusting, bc she's introvert and insecure about herself (chubby, scars due to abusive and SH past etc etc). The boys are attracted to, her darkness if that makes sense (I hope it's fine!!). The boys wanna take her it with them, & David & Dwayne eventually realizing she's their mate? (fluff is fine, even a bit more if you're fine with that!)

I hope you like this! After finishing this, I realise I kind of strayed away from your prompt, but I hope you'll still enjoy it!💜

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

The room was quiet. Dark. Cold. I sighed as I turned around in my bed, pulling the blankets over me again. Tomorrow I'd really have to call the water company and the electrician. I had bought this place on a whim, needing to have something to call my own, and I hadn't paid any attention to the details mentioned in the listing.

I wish I had now, now that I felt like my toes were freezing off. Still, I thought as I curled up in myself, it was still not as bad as it was before.

It was hours later when I woke up, the sun high in the sky already. I sighed, grabbing a warm sweater and some thick socks to keep myself warm. I quickly brushed my teeth, deciding to ignore breakfast until after I made the necessary phone calls. I took a deep breath as I walked to the landline, thankful that that one was, in fact, working. Silently, I repeated the rehearsed frases in my head.

"Hi, do I speak with the company? I need some help, because the thing isn't working in my new house."

It would be something like that, I figured. Nothing too complicated. Just two easy sentences. I could do this. I picked up the phone, dialling the number for the watercompany. It rang.

Once. Twice.

Please leave a message after -

Frustrated, I dropped the horn on its hook, redialing the number. This time, I had more luck getting an answer.

"Yeah?"

"You're the watercompany, right?" I asked, my voice more unsure than I would have liked.

"Yeah."

"My house isn't connected, it seems. Can that like - maybe, I don't know, ehm - be fixed? I mean," I laughed, although it was more out of awkwardness and despair than out of actual joy, "I'd really like to have some water here."

"Yeah."

I sighed, giving more of my information. All the guy on the phone said was yeah, as if he had never learnt to speak another word whatsoever. Still, I had been told that someone would be by this afternoon. I then rang the electrician, who was way more pleasant on the phone. He was in the area, offering to come by within the hour.

I'd agreed readily.

The electrician, Henry, a man who reminded me of my late grandfather, was done quickly. It had been a matter of some cables not connecting well, and now I was the proud owner of a house with a working light bulb. Small victories, and all that.

"So, what made you decide to move to the murder capital of the world?"

"I needed a fresh start - wait, did you say murder capital?" I asked with a frown as I walked him to the door.

He nodded. "Lots of people end up missing or dead. We don't know why, but it happens. Hence the name."

"Crap... that's why the house was so cheep."

"Maybe," the man chuckled, "but despite there being some truths to the disappearances, I doubt you'd be in any danger. You don't seem like a party animal to me."

I nodded. "So, as long as I stay clear from parties I'd be fine?"

"Most likely, yeah. Anyways, don't stress about it too much. You're young, go to the boardwalk some time, and enjoy yourself."

He had been gone for less than ten minutes, or some guy from the watercompany rang the doorbell, and went to work without saying much to me.

It was hours later when he was done, but I had water. And electricity. I could cook, shower, bathe - I sighed as I let myself fall on the couch, I was too tired to do any of those things. There had been too many people today, and I just needed some desperate alone time just for me. I was really thankful now that I'd bought some frozen pizzas on my way here, and as I turned the oven on, I couldn't help but wonder if moving here, leaving home and all it's miseries behind, if it was worth it.

"Someone moved into the old Emerson place," Paul stated as he entered the cave. He had a plastic bag in his hand, and couple of boxes with Chinese filling it.

"So?" David looked at him.

"Just thought you should know," he shrugged. It didn't matter much, but every since that night, a couple of years ago, they avoided that area of town as much as they could.

"As long as they don't go digging in the backyard, we have nothing to worry about, " Dwayne shrugged.

"She doesn't seem the type."

"You stayed long enough to stalk her?" Marko chuckled, shaking his head.

Paul threw a carton box towards him, grinning as it hit his head. "Nope, I just don't think that this quiet thing would go outside."

I woke up late the next day. I had only been here for a few days, and I had not once woken up before noon. Before, I always awoke around six thirty, doing my chores and other things that needed to be done. Never, not ever, had I been able to sleep in. So why was I able to now?

Was it because I finally had a place of my own? I finally experienced freedom? Or was i getting sick?

I shook my head, taking a deep breath as I got up. Today, I needed to make a trip to the boardwalk. I needed some paints for my rooms, and maybe it would be good for me to actually leave the house for once. Not that I necessarily liked the idea, but I also knew that interacting with others would be good. If only for a little while.

I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I picked some loose-fitting clothing, warm enough for the autumn breeze that was blowing coldly over Santa Carla. I pulled on some black leather boots, brushing my hair quickly as I decided to forgo any makeup for today. This wasn't going to be a long trip.

It was nearing sunset as I entered the boardwalk, the place more crowded than I would have liked. People were everywhere, pushing and moving, tugging others along. I had no choice but to let myself drift along with the crowd, slowly making my way away from the stream when I saw a small hardware store located near what seemed to be a videostore.

I was thankful to no longer be stuck in the crowd and pushed the door to the store open, right into someone's face. I froze, staring wide-eyed at the man in front of me. He was tall, an almost scary look on his face as he looked at me, his brunet hair falling down his face.

"I- I am so sorry, I didn't-"

He looked at me, causing me to feel flustered. He truly was rather handsome. Too handsome for me, I knew that. But still, one can dream, right?

"It's fine," he said, his voice deeper than I'd expected. I looked after him as he left, shaking my head slightly as I tried to remove his image from my brain. I quickly picked some paints - a dark blue and ocher yellow, a colourmatch I'd loved for ages - and paid for them. I left the store, walking down the boardwalk to the entrance.

It was getting busier and I just wanted to go home. I walked further, the plastic bag with paint cans in my hands as I heard the rumbling engine of a motorcycle behind me.

"You need a ride?"

I looked up and saw that it was the guy I'd run into in the hardware store.

"It's alright," I said quietly, not sure if he heard me.

"You sure? There are not too many houses around here, and it's not a good idea to be out alone in the dark."

I shook my head, remembering how former classmates repeatedly reassured me that I didn't have to worry about that because kidnappers and rapists would pick someone prettier. Assholes that they were. I sighed, looking at the guy.

"Why would you offer me a ride?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Besides, it's already getting late, and I imagine you'd rather be home before morning."

I looked at my watch and realised he was right. "Thank you," I said gratefully as I got on the back of his bike with his assistance. I introduced myself, but he didn't respond with his name. Instead he drove off, straight to my home.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked him confused as I got off.

"This was the only house for sale in the last couple of weeks. And since you're new-"

"Am I that obvious?"

"No," he gave me a small smile, "we just come down to the boardwalk almost daily. We know everyone's faces, just not yours. Not yet."

"Maybe you will," I said quietly, quietly wondering what it was that made me say this. As if I'd ever go back to the boardwalk while it was so busy at night.

"I'll see you around, love," he said, stepping back on his bike.

"Wait, what's you're name?"

"I'm Dwayne."

With that he drove off.

"And?" David looked at Dwayne as he entered the cave last.

"She's sweet. Harmless." He couldn't help but grin. "There's something about her."

"Yeah?"

"She's not just another run away. There's something more. Like she's seen things that she shouldn't have."

David nodded. "You think it is her?"

Dwayne thought about it. For days, the two of them had felt the pull of a third and final mate bond. The bond was forming quickly and steadily, and soon, they'd be able to follow their gut feeling towards their mate. But for now? Dwayne nodded.

"She seemed more level-headed than us, but I am quite certain she can live like we do."

"Maybe I'll meet her tomorrow," David shrugged, standing up. "If i come to the same conclusion as you, we'll need to make her ours."

I groaned as I opened my fridge. All day, I had been working on painting my room, forgetting the necessity of making a trip to the grocery store. Now it was night, I had yet to eat dinner, and all I had in my fridge was an old bottle of coke.

"Guess I'll go to the boardwalk..." I mumbled, taking my paint spattered clothes of and quickly changing into something clean. I didn't stop to look in the mirror before I went, a thing I would regret later on, I'm certain. At that moment, it didn't matter. I needed food, and the only place I was going to get that at this hour was the boardwalk.

It took me about an hour to get there, and I had just enough luck on my side that the Chinese place was still open and serving as I entered. I greeted the owner, placed my order, and sat down on a bench, waiting for my order to be called.

"So you've been painting all day, hm?" I looked up, seeing two men in front of me. Dwayne and some other guy.

"How did you know?" I frowned slightly.

"You've got a blue streak on your cheek."

I tried to stand up to go to the bathroom to clean myself up, but found myself unable to do so as the guy went to sit down next to me. I shoved over a bit, feeling just the slightest hint uncomfortable.

"How do you like Santa Carla?"

"I don't know, it's okay, I guess?" I shrugged.

"You haven't had a chance to see it?" Dwayne asked. I shook my head.

"I've got a lot to do at home, and-" I shook my head. It didn't matter.

"And what?" The other guy, who had yet to introduce himself, looked at me.

"I just don't like crowds," I decided quickly before asking his name.

"David," he said, "and what if we can over you Santa Carla without the crowds?"

"Good luck with that," I muttered, sceptical. As if that was ever going to happen.

"No, you'll see," Dwayne chuckled, "David's right. How about we pick you up tomorrow and show you around?"

I was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "What time?"

"Ten. Things will have quieted down here."

Time passed quickly, and as I woke up the next afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder why i had agreed to this date. I had liked the conversation we'd had, sure. But to go on a date? Later that evening, David had even explicitly called it that, and I hadn't even corrected him. And then a date with the two of them?

I didn't mind that, truly, they were both incredibly handsome and as far as I could tell with how little I know them, kind and somewhat sweet - but still. It was a bit, odd, wasn't it?

The rest of the day, I worked on decorating my house, making sure I was ready to go by ten. I'd opted to wear a dress, liking the way it flowed around my legs. Despite the warmth of the evening, I decided to wear a black cardigan on top, completing my outfit.

"Damn," Dwayne grinned as he saw me, causing me to smile shyly. David stood behind him, waiting on his bike.

"You look nice," he said as he offered me a seat. I got on behind him, and we made our way to the boardwalk.

Just as he had promised, like they'd both promised, the boardwalk was practically empty tonight. I didn't know how they'd done it, but it felt incredible. No crowds to drown in, no people pulling you one way when you wanted to go another... I let the two of them guide me over the boardwalk, taking me on rides. We talked about everything, from favourite colours to deepest fears, from hobbies to pet peeves - it was incredible to get to know them, to see them and to let them get to know me.

Even though I had only known Dwayne for three days and David for two, I felt like I had known them all my life, like they were a missing piece of the puzzle I called myself.

As they said goodbye when it was close to sunrise, I couldn't help but melt in their arms as they both pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.

Yeah, I decided quietly. This was it.

In the days that followed, I kept hanging out with them. They'd stop by sometime during the night, taking me to the boardwalk whenever most of the crowds had left. I had met their friends, Paul and Marko, and I had a hard time admitting to myself that I actually enjoyed their company.

I had known them for a month when they took me to their place, this strange yet almost magical cave. It was there that they told me what they were.

I hadn't known what to do, so I hadn't done anything. It was a horrifying thought, but then again, a part of me truly loved them. A part of me couldn't live without them. So, despite refusing to drink and become one of them, I did accept them.

It just took me a day or two. Three.

But once I did accept it, our bond grew only stronger. No longer could I imagine not spending the night with them. No longer could I stand the thought of not seeing them. I stayed over at their place, sleeping between them almost as often as they stayed at mine. We talked, more deeply than before, them answering as honest as they could when I asked them about their immortality.

It was then, five weeks after I learnt what they were, three months after I met them, that i decided to become like them. I was theirs, and I couldn't live with the thought of letting them wake up one day without me. Nor did I want to wake up without them.

So, when David offered once again, I drank, sealing my fate as their mate.

[hirayalore]

Hi :) Can you read "Sirius Black x Mudblood!Slytherin fem!reader" story. It can also be platonic because of the home and blood status of the reader.

Thank you already

[ sirius black x slytherin!reader | fluff | 2.9k words ]

note. hehehe made a few alterations so that it’d make sense why the reader is put into slytherin despite being “muggle-born” since i don’t think a muggle-born would be placed in the said house (i blame my brain for being too invested that i can’t let it pass hsdjhsjdh).

this is also kinda unedited (unfortunately i too am lazy) and went way longer than intended because i couldn’t resist putting in a little backstory!!! ALSO did i mention that this sirius has me on my knees??????

Everybody always wondered how the Sorting Hat decided to put you in Slytherin.

In their eyes and in their mind, you were a Muggle-born—a filthy Mudblood—the exact kind of wizard that Salazar Slytherin detested and insisted not to invite in Hogwarts during its establishment.

Even now when it has been 7 years since the sorting ceremony, you could feel the curious eyes of everybody in the Great Hall whenever it was hard to sleep, could hear how those Slytherins murmured amongst themselves and asked which family you belonged, taking into consideration that the last name you bore didn’t sound familiar nor seemed like it came from the Sacred Twenty-Eight to be worthy of being part of their Hogwarts house.

But what they weren’t aware of—and what you only came to discover yourself many years later during adulthood—is that you actually came from an ancient and noble pure-blood family, a lineage that was acclaimed to be one of the oldest wizarding clans in Britain until its believed downfall in the late 1950s.

It was just that your parents, who have died for a reason that remained to be unknown (yet believed to be the cause of the Dark Lord), left you at the doorstep of an unsuspecting Muggle family just days before their passing, believing that you were safer at the hands of the non-magic folk.

They were right, of course. The Muggle family that raised you did their best in making sure that you were loved and cherished in every way possible. Hence when you received your Hogwarts letter at the age of 11, although they were confused as you were, they did the best they could to support you and lead you to the world they were convinced you always belonged in.

But contrary to your real parents who had great judgment in bringing you to a loving Muggle home, your Muggle parents were misled to think that it would be good for you to be with others like your kind, oblivious to the discrimination and hatred that you faced for merely growing up with non-wizards.

“That’s my seat, Mudblood,” Mallory Flint practically hissed at you upon finding you in the common room, reading on one of the leather sofas with the thought that you could have some peace and quiet even for a day.

You sighed, closing your book.

At this point, you were smart enough not to fight back and give people like Mallory the satisfaction of being affected by their harsh treatment.

However, as you stood up and attempted to walk past her, she grabbed your arm, holding you in place. “You have something you want to say to me, ____?” she taunted, smirking. “You look angry ‘cause I’m making you leave.”

You press your mouth together, your teeth gritting in self-restraint. “No, I’m not angry.”

Her smirk transformed into a sneer. “Is that so?” she said. “Good then–because you should really know by now that there’s no place for people like you here in Slytherin. Or perhaps do you still need a reminder? A little knock on the head to help you with what you’re always forgetting?”

At the word ‘knock’, Mallory tapped your head with the tip of her wand, leaving a slight sting that you couldn’t pretend didn’t exist.

You bit the insides of your cheeks, a scowl casting your features that she noticed.

She raised her eyebrows, understanding now what ticked you off, and without hesitating, tapped your head again, this time harder.

“Seemed like you do need a few little knocks to get your brain working. Must be due to being a Mudblood and all.”

Her minions laughed at the statement, the obnoxious and annoying sound of their laughter leading you to grow more pissed off than you should be.

It must have been that, and your impatience this evening—and the way Mallory didn’t stop sputtering nonsense, and how the initial peace you thought you were granted earlier was stolen, that brought you to abruptly whip your wand out at the motion of her attempting to hit your head again.

She paused, scoffing, eyes growing darker at the manner in which you pointed it in her direction in warning. “You sure you want to do that, ____?”

At your silence, she gave you another sneer and another hard knock.

On the forehead.

You no longer thought twice, your hand was already moving before you could properly think.

With a quick swish of your wand and a whispered incantation, a hex was sent to Mallory’s direction, hitting her on the front of her face and giving her a minor whiplash. 

“Bloody—” She began to scream in disbelief at your audacity, but her words cut off as her tongue started to change, elongating and hardening into a horn. It gave her the unsettling appearance of a twisted Pinocchio—only instead of an abnormally long nose, it was her tongue that had transformed.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the ridiculousness of how she looked.

But then Mallory’s friends turned to you (after fussing over their leader who was now red in the face and throwing some sort of tantrum), and you were immediately reminded that this standoff wasn’t over unless they already had their revenge.

So, in sudden fear for your life, you sprinted out of the Slytherin common room as fast as you could, hearing their footsteps follow after you with an even faster speed to catch up.

You had no idea where to go, and you were sure that it was past curfew already given the empty hallways that you darted past through. You kept on thinking of places to hide, of vacant classrooms you could run into for the meanwhile, yet given how your mind was in shambles and playing a loop of Mallory’s tongue turning into a frightening horn, you just couldn’t identify where the best hiding spot could be.

That is until you turned to the left corridor of the seventh floor and spotted a massive door you didn't recall ever seeing, its sight urging you to come closer and come in.

You took a pause, contemplating if it was wise to go inside a room you had a strange feeling about, but at the sound of your bullies’ footsteps getting louder, you deduced that you had no choice and grabbed the door handle, no time for second-guessing.

Quickly stepping inside, you tried to lock the door to prevent them from coming in if ever they realize that this is where you must have gone to. 

However, such measures didn’t need to be done because as soon as you were in the darkly lit room, catching your breath and making sense of what was happening—the door began to slowly deteriorate in front of you, slowly being absorbed in the wall and vanishing subsequently.

“Shite,” you whispered, panic bubbling in your system at the realization that you might be trapped here for the whole night.

You took a step back, examining the entirety of the wall, trying to see something that wasn’t there to help you with your case. But there was nothing, only granite or stale or whatever material it was that these stones were made of. 

“It’ll come back,” a sudden drawling voice interrupted your inner turmoil and made you freeze on the spot. “I’d say give it a few minutes or so.”

You swiveled around almost immediately, alerted by the presence of another person in this makeshift sanctuary the castle made for you. 

The moment you did, your gaze landed ahead to where a boy with dark mid-length hair was leaning forward against the balcony, his back turned to you. You couldn’t see his features clearly, even when he moved his head to the side to reveal a cigarette between his lips—yet the moment he looked in your direction and your eyes met, it dawned on you who this boy was.

Sirius Black, one of the four infamous troublemakers in Gryffindor.

You blinked in surprise while he kept his eyes locked on you, blowing a ring of smoke in the air with unusual ease.

The both of you have never interacted before despite being in the same batch and a few classes since first year. You were sure that the reason behind that was perhaps his great hatred towards Slytherins, as you were no stranger to how he often delivered biting remarks towards Severus Snape and yelled insults to your house at every acceptable opportunity he could find (e.g. Quidditch matches).

Nonetheless, you’ve always been silently thankful that his annoyance towards Slytherin never extended to you, as you reckoned you were already suffering enough with the majority of your housemates alone to deal with another menace like himself.

“I hope you’re not planning to stand there all evening,” he said.

At his comment, you forced yourself to march towards the balcony, not knowing how you should approach this peculiar situation. A part of you was convinced that being here was no better than being out there, but the other part was telling you that Sirius hasn’t hexed you yet so that must be a good sign.

When you reached the balcony, the cool air greeted you and tossed your hair back in the breeze. You squinted a bit, brushing aside the slight burning sensation it gave your eyes, and took in the beauty of the night horizon. You didn’t even think Hogwarts offered such a view, maybe due to how your common room was in dungeons and you were far too much of a coward when it came to extreme heights to reward yourself with this kind of scenery.

You could see the school grounds, the distant ridges of the Scottish Highlands… the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch Pitch, the Black Lake that appeared serene in the moonlight…  

“Wow,” you breathed out, not realizing that you said it loud enough for Sirius to hear.

He glanced at you. Then, his hand suddenly stretched closer to where you were, offering a cigarette with a casual gesture. “You seem like you need it.”

You didn’t know what that meant. Regardless, you took the stick from his possession.

Sirius waited, staring, and upon feeling like you were left with no option but to finish what you started, you hesitantly took a drag, inhaling far too quickly that as soon as the smoke entered your lungs, you were coughing it out—your throat burning and eyes watering alongside it.

A smirk flickered across his face. “You’ve never done that before,” he said, his tone making it very apparent that he was stating a fact and not asking for a confirmation.

You urged him to reclaim the cigarette with haste, still coughing while also fanning the smoke away. “Merlin, why do you lot—” cough, cough— “enjoy that? It’s like gulping down a mouthful of dragon's breath!”

“It can be therapeutic.” He brought it again to his lips and drew deeply on the cigarette, releasing a slow puff of smoke. “And you should have told me you’ve never smoked before. Peer pressure isn’t exactly my style.”

“I wanted to give it a go.”

“Which clearly, you hated.”

“Clearly.” You were still coughing, your mouth awfully tasting like ash. 

Sirius grinned. “Well, at least you know better than to take a cigarette without knowing how to smoke next time.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

He watched in obvious amusement as you continued to cough, looking like you wished you could conjure water or whatever it was that would help the itching that you were still feeling inside your throat to go away. It was unlike you to go head on with something so unfamiliar and so… unorthodox as smoking, but there must have been something with the already unpredictable events of this evening or the presence of a mischief-maker as Sirius that coerced you to do it.

You twisted around once you calmed down, returning to your previous position to go back in admiring the starry sky, unbeknownst that Sirius was still staring at you. “Will it really take long before the door appears again?”

“Not too long.” He exhaled the last wisp of smoke away from you, then pressed the cigarette to the cool stone of the balcony, snuffing it out with a slow motion. “Just until the people you’re running from are far enough.”

Heat crept to your face. “I wasn’t running away from people.”

“Sure you weren’t.” That obnoxious smirk made a reappearance on his infuriatingly handsome features. “And I didn’t go here because I was running away from Filch.”

That made you scoff. “You were running away from Filch?”

“Yeah. James and I put Dungbombs in his office.” He seemed proud. “Then we almost got caught, and James ran back to the Gryffindor Tower while I went here to my favorite hiding spot.”

You looked at your surroundings, pretty much confused on which part of the castle you were supposed to be. “Where are we exactly?”

“No clue.” Sirius shrugged, unbothered by the fact that he indeed didn’t have a clue on where you two  were exactly. “Only thing I know about this place is that it’s here whenever I need it. The first time I found it, it was last year when I was sneaking out at night and almost ran into Professor McGonagall.”

“Of course, you were.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” He asked, going back to the main topic, curious. “Was it Filch too?”

You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t Filch.”

“A professor?”

“No.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

A snort. “No.”

“Then who?”

You sighed, relenting on just disclosing who the person was since you reckoned it wasn’t information that needed to be kept secret at all cost anyways. “It was Mallory Flint—well, her minions, actually—but it’s because of her. Always been. I’m sure you’re well aware of who she is.”

“I am.” He narrowed his eyes, pretending to think. “She’s that Slytherin girl who looks like she might have been conceived from a troll, isn’t she?”

The unforeseen insult caused you to laugh out loud, your laughter slightly echoing in the walls. “Yes, you are absolutely right.”

Sirius laughed as well. “What’d she do?”

“Oh, you know, the standard. Insulting me, taunting me, rubbing it in my face that I’m a—” You abruptly stopped yourself, this sense of awareness that you were babbling too much hitting you hard.

This was Sirius Black for Merlin’s sake. He hated Slytherins, and you knew that he came from a lineage of respectable pure-blood wizards too (qualities of his that were awfully contradicting). Venting about the discrimination you constantly faced and the bullying you had to endure since you stepped foot in this school might not be the smartest decision to make.

“A Muggle-born.” He finished for you.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. That.”

“Typical. They always think that they’re bloody above everybody else.”

“You don’t think the same?” you asked. “I mean, you’re not much different than they are.”

Sirius scowled at that, like the implication of your words offended him. “Being a pure-blood is not something worth flaunting about.”

“It doesn’t look like it to other people.”

“Well,” he breathed in deeply, gray eyes flickering to the view ahead, “those kinds of people have nothing to brag about other than being a pure-blood. A bit tragic if you come to think of it.”

“I suppose.” Your fingers were absentmindedly scratching the material of your robes. “So, does that mean you have other things to brag about other than being in the noble house of Black?” You then added with a tease.

His lips curved up, displaying an expression that showed a combination of a smirk and grin. “Obviously. With a face like mine, do you really think anyone sees me and immediately thinks about my bloodline?”

The confidence, the way he looked at you, and the fact that he was goddamn correct made you blush. It led you to be speechless for a good minute, staring at him and his face that really could make anyone forget about his last name—something that you know he notices with how his grin takes its full form.

However, before he could comment about it and make you wish that the ground would swallow you whole, his gaze shifted to the doors, and you followed suit, exhaling in relief as the exit reappeared, granting you a chance to escape.

“Uh, I should go,” you said immediately, a statement that he raised an eyebrow at in obvious amusement. “Wouldn’t want to be caught or anything.”

“Sure, love. You do that.”

You ignored the hard beat of your heart. “And you? You’ll stay?”

“For a few minutes more, yeah.”

“Alright. Well…” You trailed, already inching towards the door. “Bye, then.”

You muttered curses under your breath as you made a run for it towards the doors, scolding yourself for appearing like a damn fool in front of Sirius. You were certain that he was making fun of you in his head, or that he was going to tell this encounter to James Potter, or that when you wake up tomorrow, your housemates will find another reason to torment you because of being chummy with a Gryffindor like Sirius.

“Hey, ____.”

You stopped in your tracks. Not only because he called your name, but because you were shocked that he even knew it in the first place.

With a slow turn, you saw him leaning backwards against the balcony, elbows supporting him.

“Hm?” You tried to act nonchalant.

He tilted his head slightly, smiling smugly, and carried on uttering the words that you’d come to replay in your mind over and over again.

“Same time tomorrow?”

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[miss-morland]

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[chillllii]

when the audhd is fun until you become "i really really really have to give my input/side/idea and i dont give a fuck who's talking or what everyone was initially talking about" and before this site's illiteracy kicks in i'm certain we're all guilty of this to some extent

[ghostsprincess]

I can't stop thinking about Ghost being a better boyfriend than your ex, even without establishing that title....

This is a continuation of part one.

warning: mention domestic abuse

💀

Simon was there every night you worked. You never gave him your schedule, but he'd show up and settle onto one of the stools like clockwork. Soap often joined him, and while they carried on like always, you knew Simon's gaze lingered on your body. You could practically feel the weight as you took drink orders and pulled pints. It wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it made everything easier knowing you weren't alone if your ex dared show his face.

When your shifts ended, Simon would walk you back to your new place. The one time you insisted he didn't need to do that, he grunted and said, "What if I want to?"

You didn't mention it again. Instead you got into a routine of giving him a fifteen minute warning when your shift was going to end, and you'd head out into the cold night with him at your side. He was mostly quiet while you chatted about whatever was on your mind. When you'd ask him about himself, he'd reroute the conversation back to you. Then he would wait while you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

You always had the urge to invite him in, but you were taking up so much of his time already. And what would you do with him anyway? This hulking military man with kind eyes? 

You thanked him and gave him a little wave before ducking inside, and you knew he always waited until he heard the sound of your door locking before he left. 

"Y' alright, love?" he asked one night when you were starting to feel particularly good about yourself again. Your split lip had healed which required less makeup. You felt stronger for having left your ex in the dust. You were wearing a new top that made you feel sexy.

"Yeah. I'm alright, Simon. I feel really good, actually."

You served him a drink and refused to let him pay. You really ought to make him stop tipping you at this rate. He was doing so much for you and getting nothing in return. He was doing all of the boyfriend duties just as he had promised, but he never so much as touched you other than the occasional hand hold.

What if you wanted more?

He broke into your thoughts as he said, "I can tell. Ya' been smiling more. Almost ready to go?"

Tonight you felt like you were floating along the dirty sidewalk with your hand tucked in Simon's massive paw. He was keeping you warm without doing anything, and he listened to your nervous rambling as you tried your best to work up your courage. But the two of you reached your front door all too quickly.

"Get inside," he said, voice deep and tender in spite of the command. "An' lock up."

When he started to pull his hand away, you didn't let him. And you didn't budge when one of his eyebrows inched higher. "Not quite yet," you whispered, toe tapping the cement step you were standing on which put you slightly closer to him in height. "I have to tell you something."

Simon's lips pressed together in a tight line, and his chin dipped in a slight nod. "I need to tell ya' something, too. Just don't want to."

"What?" you asked immediately, the lightness you'd been feeling instantly replaced with a lead brick inside you.

"I'm leaving. Late tomorrow night. Not until after I make sure ya' get home from the pub."

"Leaving?" you whispered, heart pounding faster. He was in the military. Some sort of special mission involvement. You knew that much. And you could read between the lines to know that someone who looked and behaved like he did was probably about to risk his life, not for the first time. "Simon, where are you going?" you asked with tears in your eyes even though you figured he wouldn't be able to tell you.

Simon shook his head, his lips curling into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and it made you dizzy. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be worried 'bout me." You wanted to tell him you would be. You'd worry nonstop until you saw him again. You'd come to rely on him, but mostly you liked how you felt when he was around. "There'll be someone to walk ya' home from work every night. I can promise that."

You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but instead you threw your arms around his neck. He was so solid and warm, and the scrape of his facial hair on your cheek was somehow comforting. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you asked, voice breaking on a sob.

"I'll see ya' tomorrow, love."

He didn't move an inch as you extracted yourself, and the sound of his receding footsteps could only be heard once you'd locked yourself inside.

💀

Part three

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[wcnderlnds]

opposites attract | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: he's chaotic and loud, you're shy and introverted but he can't help but be intrigued by you ・❥・word count: 1.3k ・❥・warnings: mentions of death bc squid game, nam-gyu is mean to reader (im sry), female reader. ・❥・ authors note: i love writing this chaotic man <3

Of course the second game just had to be one where you had to interact with people and find a team. Talking to people, approaching them – it was your worst nightmare. As you stood there in the sea of people all talking and teaming up, you timidly stayed in place, your hands pulled into the sleeves of your jacket giving yourself sweater paws. Since the first game, you had kept to yourself. You had even voted to leave. Why would anyone want to stay in a place like this where people were getting killed for losing children’s games? Unfortunately, the majority had decided to stay even after a heavily heated debate where player 456 had declared he’d been here before. While it was all kicking off, you had hid behind the crowd. Conflict was something you avoided. People were usually something you avoided but when a salesman came up to you with promises of money, how could you say no?

So, as you stood there, too shy to approach, you accepted the fact that you were probably going to die. There was no way you had enough courage in you to find a team. Even if you did, who was there to ask? The only person you might consider approachable was player 456 but he already had a team. There was no point going over there, asking and risking embarrassment as they turned you down. Aimlessly you wandered around the room, fingers toying with the ends of your sleeve – a nervous habit that you’d had since you were a child.

Guess you’d just have to accept your fate. You were either going to get killed because you couldn’t find a team or end up in a team who didn’t want you. Just as you were about to sit down and give up entirely, someone cleared their throat behind you. Spinning around, you came face to face with the infamous player 230. His purple hair was unmistakable, you’d seen him when he’d been fighting some other boy yesterday.

“Senorita, excuse me,” he said, his hands clenching his jacket to his chest. Your eyes landed on his multi-colored nails first before daring to glance up to look at him. Eyes met his dark ones for only a second before looking back down at the ground. He noticed instantly, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you. “Team with us.”

“R-really?” You dared to glance back up. He seemed serious but the look his friend was giving was anything but friendly. It looked like he’d rather team with anyone but you.

“Yeah, really? She’s kind of weird,” Nam-gyu looked you up and down, pulling a face then turning back to Thanos. “We can find someo-”

“Shutup,” he held his hand up in front of his friend’s face, his eyes solely focused on you. “Team with us. I’ll keep you safe.”

It wasn’t like you had any other options so you nodded. Thanos seemed thrilled, throwing his arm around your shoulders in a side hug. Your instinct was telling you not to trust him but at the same time there was something slightly comforting about him. After all, he had ignored his friend to solely talk to you. Why on Earth he was so adamant to have you on his team baffled you but it saved you from getting eliminated… if you made it through the game anyway. 

Turns out it was five mini games in one. As the rest of your team argued about who would do what, Thanos’ eyes were fixated on you who was looking at the ground. There was something about you that intrigued him. The difference in your personalities was more than noticeable. He was loud, crazy and obnoxious while you, on the other hand, seemed shy, insecure and quiet. Maybe it was true. Maybe opposites really did attract because for some reason, he wanted to get to know you more. He actually wanted to know you. That rarely happened with him. Usually he was the type of guy to get a crush, fuck and then move on to the next one. It was rare for ‘Mr One Night Stand’ to really want to get to know someone. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling. The pounding in his chest as he tried to examine you with his eyes. It was impossible to really get a good read on you.

“And, the loser over there can do Gonggi,” Nam-gyu’s voice echoed through your ears. Panic struck, you leaned forward, speaking before you even thought about it.

“I-I don’t know how to play Gonggi,” you mumbled.

“Better learn quickly then, huh?” Nam-gyu smiled fake-sweetly at you.

“Hey, stop it,” Thanos stopped his silent beat boxing to chime in, leaning forward to glare at his friend. “Leave her alone… What are you good at?”

“I can do spinning top. I played it a lot with my friends…” you tried to speak with a bit more confidence, a pink hue tinting your cheeks. Thanos noticed, grinning at you.

“Spinning top for you then. You’re cute, by the way,” he winked, causing your cheeks to only redden more.

Somehow, someway, the team had managed to survive. A lot of teams seemed to struggle with Spinning Top but you had got it the first try – Thanos almost blowing out your eardrums with the loud cheer of celebration when you did. Now, back in the main room, you were sat with the team. If it was up to you, you would have gone to sit by yourself but Thanos had insisted you sit with them. It seemed like he wanted to keep you around. It wouldn’t be too bad to have some friends, right? You sat beside Thanos, a space between you. While he was in a world of his own, DJing some invisible show in his head by the looks of his hand motions, the rest of the team were arguing. Your knees were pulled up to your chest, chin resting on them.

Watching everyone talk with each other so easily – even if it was arguing – made you feel slightly jealous that you couldn’t. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to because you did but the mere thought of striking up a conversation with anyone brought you too much anxiety. It was just better to keep to yourself. If you had to be the weird, quiet girl then so be it.

“They’re idiots,” the deep voice beside you said. Turning to look, you’d noticed Thanos had closed the distance between you both, his shoulder touching yours now. “You good?”

“Uh, yeah, thanks,” you smiled, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. “Thanks for letting me team with you.”

“No problem, Senorita. Told you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” His toothy grin made your heart skip a beat. Oh boy. That was the last thing you needed.

“Y-yeah,” you laughed, tearing your eyes away from him yet again.

This time, his finger gently reached out, tilting your chin to look at him. His eyes pierced yours, a look of intrigue on his face. “You have pretty eyes. It’s a shame you think the floor deserves to see them more than me.” He leaned in a little closer, his hot breath fanning against your face. Being close to someone wasn’t new for you. It was something that didn’t happen often but you’d had your fair share of encounters with people. “Meant it when I said you were cute, babygirl. Stick with me through these games and when we survive, let me take you out for a drink. Maybe I can get more than a few words at a time out of you.”

Once again, he winked at you, removing his finger from your chin and turning his attention to the argument going on in front of him. Meanwhile you were in a daze, your heart beating against your chest so much you were sure it was about to beat out of your ribcage. Yeah, this man was definitely going to be trouble.

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