#you walk out to talk to him in the middle of the night and he's like — oh i was just in the neighborhood

[beloveds-embrace]

Neglected omega reader who got taken care of by someone else. Nikolai or Konig. The drama ✨✨

I hope i did KorTac justice, I’ve never written them before except König lol @nightunite pspspsps i have nikto crumbs 🙏🏻

Neglected omega reader p1 + p2

KorTac had always liked you.

From the very first moment they��d met you, they’d been drawn in- pulled by the quiet gravity of your presence and the sharp edge of your competence. You were quick on your feet, sharp with a knife, steady under pressure. Smart and resourceful in a way that demanded respect.

But more than that?

You had heart.

You’d been assigned to their unit during a joint operation months ago. Just a temporary deployment, only meant to last a few weeks, but it had been long enough for them to notice things- little things they hadn’t been able to forget.

The way you’d patched König up without hesitation after a mission went sideways, hands steady even as blood slicked your fingers. The way you’d shared your rations with Horangi after a supply drop came in light, brushing off his protests with a stubborn glare. The way you’d sat quietly beside Nikto on watch, not asking questions when he didn’t feel like talking but always ready to listen when he did.

They noticed you, and they liked what they saw.

Liked the way you worked. Liked the way you took care of your team without ever expecting anything in return. Liked the way you carried yourself- confident but kind. Fierce but soft.

But you weren’t theirs. Couldn’t be.

You belonged to 141, and KorTac had backed off, unwilling to overstep boundaries when you already had a pack waiting for you at home. They’d told themselves it was fine- they were fine- watching from a distance.

But then you came back.

Alone.

Hollow-eyed and sharp-edged, moving like a ghost through the halls of the base, and suddenly?

All bets were off.

The first time König sees you in such a state, it’s in the corridor outside the mess hall.

You don’t look up when he walks by, don’t even seem to notice the sheer weight of his presence as he slows, lingering just long enough to let his shadow stretch over you. You’re leaning against the wall like you’re trying to hold yourself together, arms wrapped tight around your middle, shoulders curled inward. Small. Smaller than he’s ever seen you look before. Smaller than he’d ever thought he’d ever see you.

His instincts itch- Omega, alone, hurting- but you’re not his. And still…

His eyes track the tired slump of your shoulders, the way your clothes hang loose, like you’ve been skipping meals. He scents the air. Picks up the faded traces of peach and rose, but there’s something sour underneath- bitter and wrong, like spoiled fruit. König’s stomach twists.

It’s the scent of neglect.

You should never have looked like this. You should have never smelled like this.

Not you. Not the Omega who had once dragged him out of the line of fire without hesitation, barking orders and holding the line until reinforcements arrived. Not the Omega who had once laughed with him under a tin roof during a monsoon, eyes bright.

The smell lingers after he walks away, clinging to the back of his throat like smoke. But it’s the emptiness of it- the hollowness- that keeps him awake that night, staring at the ceiling and wondering which one of those 141 bastards let their Omega rot like this.

The next time König sees you, it’s in the armory.

You’re cataloging weapons, checking and re-checking the tags with mechanical precision, but your hands shake when you reach for the next one. Just a little. Just enough for him to notice.

König moves closer. Quiet, but not too quiet- he doesn’t want to startle you. You don’t look up until his shadow stretches over your workbench, and when you do, the look in your eyes hits him like a gut-punch.

Flat. Guarded. Resigned.

Like you’re expecting him to scold you.

König’s heart cracks wide open. He grips the edge of the table just to keep from reaching out.

“Doing good work.” He says softly, and you just blink.

It’s such a small thing- barely even a compliment- but your throat bobs like you’re swallowing something down. Then you duck your head and go back to your task, not looking at him again.

But you don’t flinch.

Not this time.

Nikto is next, and he doesn’t hesitate.

He remembers you. Remembers the way you’d stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the rain, eyes scanning the horizon with sharp focus as you both waited for the enemy to make their move.

You hadn’t been scared. Not even a little.

And now?

He catches you outside the rec room, sitting on the stairs with your knees drawn up to your chest. You don’t even react when he approaches, just keep staring at the floor like it might swallow you whole.

Now, you look like you’re drowning.

So Nikto doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything. Just crouches down beside you and sets a cup of coffee at your feet before walking away.

You stare at it for almost five minutes before finally picking it up.

The next morning, he does it again. Same cup. Same coffee. Same wordless offering.

It becomes a routine- something quiet and steady, something you can rely on when everything else feels too heavy.

And then there’s Horangi, who pushes the hardest.

He pushes, because he knows you can take it.

You had before- back when you’d yelled at him for ignoring orders and running off alone, eyes blazing as you shoved him back toward the evac point. He’d liked your fire back then, liked the way you didn’t back down even when he towered over you.

But now?

Now your fire’s gone out, and there’s only one group to blame.

So Horangi pushes. Tests the waters, pokes at the edges, trying to find the spark he knows is still there. He is the loudest of the three, sharp and quick with his words, but he also knows when to keep them soft. He finds you cleaning your gear one night and sits down beside you without asking.

“You missed dinner.” He says casually, pulling out a protein bar and tossing it onto your lap. Pushing past the bubble you’ve wrapped around yourself, yet not being overbearing or too much.

You open your mouth to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I’m not your Alpha,” he says with a shrug. “You don’t have to listen to me.”

You close your mouth. Look down at the protein bar. Then, without a word, you tear it open and take a bite.

Horangi grins. And just like that, he’s in.

And when you finally- finally- smile at one of his jokes?

He knows he’s got you.

141 starts noticing the shift almost immediately. Soap catches König lingering near you in the gym, eyes following the curve of your spine as you stretch, and something inside him snaps.

Ghost sees Nikto brush his fingers against yours when he hands you something, and his jaw clenches so tight he can hear his teeth grind.

Price overhears Horangi making you laugh- a real, honest-to-God laugh, a sound he can’t hear any longer even in his dreams- and has to excuse himself before he says something he can’t take back.

It gets worse when your scent starts to change; the bitterness fades first, then the sourness.

The first time Price catches a hint of warmth blooming underneath, it stops him dead in his tracks.

Because it isn’t for him. It isn’t for them.

It’s even worse to know that they drove you to it, and have no one to blame but themselves.

They let you fall through the cracks. Let the weight of their own issues and distractions leave you stranded in the dark, too far away for them to pull you back when they finally noticed you were gone.

And now? Now KorTac is picking up the pieces, with no hesitation.

König steadies you. Makes sure you eat, makes sure you rest, makes sure you feel safe even when the world outside is crumbling. Doesn’t push you away when you, big hand lingering on the curve of your spine until his scent is left there.

Nikto grounds you. Offers quiet comfort without demands, without expectations. Makes sure you know he’s there, always there, steady and unshakable. A lighthouse in the stormy seas, the hand that pulls you out of the swirling ocean.

Horangi pushes and pushes. Draws out smiles and laughter, reminds you what it feels like to be wanted. Finds excuses to bump shoulders or brush against you when you pass, just to see if you’ll let him.

And you do. You let all of them, slowly greeting them with the quietest little purr (cat activation noise).

Because it’s easier to be wanted by them than it is to be unwanted by your own pack.

And slowly- so slowly it hurts- you start to come back to life; your scent changes. Softens. Warms. The bitterness fades and the sourness disappears.

And all they can do is only watch as König takes the space they abandoned. As Nikto feeds the hunger they ignored. As Horangi brings back the fire they let burn out.

And they can’t do a damn thing about it.

Because the truth is- KorTac wanted you from the start, and now that they’ve got you?

They’re never letting go.

[wonsiwon]

party’s over, pack your stuff | l.hs

sinopsis | when heeseung returns from a party, he’s met with the shocking sight of his furious girlfriend tossing his belongings out the window and locking him out of the house. caught in the middle of a heated argument, the two find themselves pushing each other’s buttons, testing patience and limits as frustration and love clash in a chaotic standoff.

genre | stablished relationships?, fluff, angst, comedy

paring | bf! heeseung x fem!reader

you and heeseung had been together for two years, and while there were plenty of good moments, the bad ones seemed to creep in more often lately. the fights were becoming a regular thing, especially on the afternoons after he came back from parties. he’d spend hours at a friend’s place, leaving you at home, overthinking and imagining the worst. he’d stopped inviting you to these big gatherings, and it was hard not to wonder if he was cheating. the thought of him with someone else, while you were lying awake trying to convince yourself it wasn’t true, was eating you alive.

then today, everything you feared felt real. you got pictures of him at a party, grinning at some blonde girl—the same grin that used to be just for you.

heeseung didn’t see himself as a cheater. in his mind, he was just being “nice,” brushing off the attention he got because of his looks. but that smile, the one he flashed at other girls, made you want to punch him in the face.

it was around 3:20 in the afternoon when heeseung pulled into the driveway, still half-drunk and barely focused on the road. all he could think about was crashing into bed—probably not with you since he already expected a fight. not that it mattered to him; you’d forgive him eventually. or so he thought.

he didn’t even get the chance to park properly when he spotted you through the window. without thinking, he jumped out of the car, his eyes scanning the scene. clothes were scattered all over the grass, and then, just as he stepped closer, a pair of jeans flew out the window, landing in a messy heap.

“what are you doing?” heeseung asked, his eyes flicking between the clothes scattered on the ground and your furious figure at the window. “are those my clothes?”

you didn’t bother answering. instead, you grabbed a shoe and hurled it at him, hitting him square in the head.

“baby, what the hell?” heeseung muttered, trying to dodge the rain of items falling from the window. he knelt down, quickly stuffing clothes into his arms, but it felt like no matter how much he picked up, more kept falling.

“grab your stuff and get out of here.” you said, and tossed a pair of jeans at him.

heeseung caught them mid-air and looked down. “are those my favorites?” he asked, still not fully understanding what was happening.

he then glanced around, noticing people from the neighborhood walking by and stopping to watch. he could feel the eyes on him, making the situation even more awkward.

heeseung was completely thrown off guard. he didn’t understand what was happening. it didn’t make sense to him.

“can you just—” he started, but the words got stuck. “what’s going on?” he looked up at you again, trying to find some clue in your expression, but you just stood there, arms crossed, staring at him coldly.

heeseung sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy hair as he stood there, surrounded by his stuff scattered all over the grass. his headache was getting worse, and your angry expression through the window wasn’t making it any better.

“y/n, can we just talk like adults?” he pleaded, trying to calm the situation down.

“adults?” you snapped, leaning out the window with a glare. “were you acting like an adult when you were grinning at that blonde all night?”

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. his mind went back to the party last night, and after a few seconds, his eyes widened as it hit him what this was all about. “you’ve got it all wrong—”

“wrong?!” you interrupted, your voice trembling with anger. “what part of you smirking at her, leaning in all close, and god knows what else am i getting wrong?!”

“she was just talking to me! i wasn’t doing anything!” heeseung argued, waving his hands in a dismissive gesture. “you always overthink this stuff. it’s exhausting!”

“oh, i’m exhausting?!” you yelled, throwing a sweatshirt at him with force. “you know what’s exhausting, heeseung? sitting here, while the guy i’ve been with for two years goes around dipping his dick in any female that flashes him a smile!”

heeseung’s eyes widened, and he snapped back, his voice rising. “are you serious right now? i wasn’t fucking anyone, y/n! she was just talking to me! you’re blowing this way out of proportion!”

“talking?” you laughed bitterly, leaning further out the window. “heeseung, do you even hear yourself? do you think i’m stupid? you didn’t even bother inviting me to the party!”

heeseung threw his hands up in frustration. “y/n, it’s not what you think! i didn’t invite you because i knew you hate those parties!”

you clenched your fists at your sides, voice shaking with anger. “was it good, huh? was it good fucking that bitch while you had your actual girlfriend at home?”

heeseung’s eyes widened, completely caught off guard. “what the hell are you talking about?” he shot back, gripping the sneakers you threw at him. “i didn’t sleep with anyone!”

“stop lying!” you spat, leaning even further out the window, your anger boiling over.

“y/n..” he started, his voice getting more desperate. “you’re seriously out of your mind right now. i wasn’t doing anything! i didn’t touch her, i didn’t—”

“save it!” you interrupted, gripping the window frame to steady yourself.

heeseung dropped the pile of clothes back onto the grass and started walking toward the door, his face set with determination.

“don’t bother.” you said, a hint of satisfaction in your voice while holding up a shiny new set of keys. “i changed the handle.”

heeseung stopped in his tracks, looking at you, completely shocked. “why the fuck would you do that?” his eyes narrowing as he looked at the keys in your hand. his mind was still reeling from the argument, but now he was thrown off even more by what you just said.

you just smirked as you held up the keys. “you really thought you could just walk in here and keep doing whatever you want?”

heeseung’s jaw clenched, and he dragged his tongue across his cheek, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. both hands rested on his hips as he glared at you. “so, this is how it’s gonna be now? you’re locking me out like some stranger?” he was furious—this whole situation felt ridiculous to him. “you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?”

you rolled your eyes, leaning against the frame. “what are you gonna do, heeseung? break a window? crawl through the vents?”

he chuckled darkly. “did you change the back door too?”

your face went pale. you hadn’t. and even though you could’ve lied, you knew he wouldn’t buy it—your hesitation was clear. you watched his eyes flick to the side of the house, and then it clicked. before you could react, heeseung was already walking toward the edge of the house, that knowing smirk spreading across his face.

“gotcha.”

panic set in, and you pushed off the window frame, clutching the keys tightly in your hand. “this motherfucker..” you muttered under your breath.

heeseung took off running toward the backyard, vaulting over the fence with ease. panicking, you bolted down the stairs, nearly tripping as you tried to beat him to the door.

you hated yourself for how dumb you’d been, but even more, you hated the fact that heeseung was actually pretty smart. too smart. and the worst part? he wasn’t wrong. as much as you wanted to blame him for being insufferable, you couldn’t deny it was your own slip-up that handed him the upper hand. again.

you cursed under your breath, skidding to a halt in front of the door just in time to see heeseung standing in the frame, his tall figure all over you. his smirk was insufferable as he leaned against the door, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

you gasped, turning on your heels and sprinting back toward the stairs. “i hate you!” you shouted as heeseung darted after you, his long strides closing the distance quickly.

“i know you don’t, princess!” he called out, laughing as he chased you up the stairs.

your heart raced as you reached the top, your mind scrambling for a plan. heeseung wasn’t about to let this go, and you weren’t ready to give in just yet. you slammed the door of the bedroom, hoping to lock it before heeseung reached you. but just as it was about to close, his foot wedged itself in the gap.

“leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice desperate as you pushed against the door with all your strength.

“not a chance.” heeseung growled, using his weight to push it open.

the door flew back, forcing you to stumble a few steps away. before you could react, heeseung grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

“let me go!” you shouted, twisting and squirming in his hold, trying to free yourself.

“stop it, y/n!” he barked, his voice low and steady, though his breathing was heavy from the chase. “you’re acting like a kid.” heeseung’s grip tightened for a second, but he didn’t pull you back. his gaze softened just a little, and his voice dropped. “baby, stop. i’m just trying to talk.”

but you weren’t ready to listen. you were too angry. “i don’t care what you’re trying to do.” you snapped, pushing against his chest. “you don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong when you’re out there doing god knows what with other girls.”

heeseung couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, the tension in his body easing slightly. “i didn’t do anything, baby. it was just a stupid conversation—nothing more.”

“bullshit!” you yelled, shoving against him harder, but all it did was make him chuckle. “why are you laughing? you think this is funny?”

“i’m not..” he said, his smile only growing wider. “it’s just funny how you get like this, all grumpy.” he reached out and pinched your nose, a playful gesture that only made you more frustrated.

you swatted his hand away, glaring at him. “this isn’t funny, heeseung!” you snapped, your voice sharp with annoyance.

he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “okay, okay. i get it. but you’re overreacting, baby.” his tone was teasing, but there was an underlying seriousness in his eyes. “i’m not doing anything wrong.”

“you always say that,” you shot back, your anger flaring again. “how am i supposed to believe you?”

“listen, i don’t know who sent you that picture, but i swear, princess, i wasn’t flirting with her.” he stepped closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you can ask my friends.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “i don’t trust your friends.”

he raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but firm. “you trust jungwon though. he was there.”

the mention of jungwon made you pause for a moment. jungwon was the calm one in the group, always reliable, and someone you could count on when it came to keeping things straight. but the one you should really keep an eye on was no one but jake. he was the king of stirring up trouble, and you couldn’t count the number of times he’d egged heeseung on to do something stupid.

your silence gave heeseung an opening. he softened his voice, stepping closer, but still keeping a little distance to test the waters. “look, i get it. i screwed up, and yeah, maybe i should’ve kept my distance from her. but you know me, baby. you know me. i don’t care about anyone else.”

you rolled your eyes, though your resolve was faltering slightly. “you’re always sweet-talking your way out of this stuff, heeseung. it doesn’t change the fact that you were grinning at her like she was the most interesting person in the world.”

“sweet-talking?” he repeated, a playful smirk creeping back onto his face. “baby, i don’t need to sweet-talk. i’m just telling you the truth.”

heeseung took another step forward, and this time you didn’t move back. he reached for your hands, holding them gently in his. his thumbs brushed against your knuckles in slow, soothing circles.

“i don’t want to fight with you anymore..” he said softly, his voice steady and earnest. “you’re the one i come home to. you’re the one i care about. that’s not going to change because of some random girl at a party.”

you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “i’ll forgive you… only if you stop going to these stupid parties. and definitely not hang out when jake’s around.”

heeseung nodded quickly, a look of relief washing over his face. “i promise, no more parties like that. and no more hanging around jake if it’s going to make you this upset.”

you felt his hands gently grip your waist, but you didn’t pull away. instead, you looked him in the eyes, studying his expression. “i mean it, heeseung. i don’t care how much fun you think you’re having. if i ever catch you doing something like that again—”

“you won’t.” he cut in and gave you a reassuring squeeze. “no more parties, no more drama, just us.”

you let out a small sigh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “good. that’s what i need to hear.”

you let him pull you into a hug, though you kept your arms at your sides, still not fully giving in. he pressed his chin against the top of your head, his voice soft as he muttered, “thank you, baby. i’m glad we’re on the same page now.”

you stayed there for a moment, both of you just breathing, when suddenly he froze, his expression shifting. “wait—” he said, looking toward the window. “the clothes.”

you followed his gaze, realizing he was just now remembering the mess outside. before you could say anything, he groaned and buried his face in his hands. “god, the neighbors must think we’re insane.”

you crossed your arms, smirking. “well, we kinda are.”

heeseung turned back to you with a playful pout. “can’t believe i almost lost my future wife and my home in one day.”

your cheeks burned at his words, but you refused to let him off that easy. “future wife?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “who said i’d marry you after this?”

he grinned, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you again. “you’ll forgive me.” he said confidently. “you love me too much.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “you better start picking up those clothes before i change my mind.”

heeseung groaned dramatically, dropping his head onto your shoulder. “can’t we just leave them there? maybe the wind will blow them away or something.”

you pushed him off with a light shove, crossing your arms. “nice try. i’m not going to be the one explaining to the neighbour why your underwear is hanging from her tree.”

heeseung winced at the thought, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine, fine. but you’re helping me. you threw them out, after all.”

you raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “oh no, this is all on you, mister. think of it as your punishment.”

he sighed, giving you a mock glare before turning toward the stairs. “you’re cruel, y/n. absolutely ruthless.”

“and don’t forget it.” you shot back, following him downstairs to the front yard.

the scene outside was somehow even more chaotic than you remembered. a couple of kids from down the street were pointing and giggling as they passed by, and neighbour from next door was giving heeseung a very disapproving look from his porch.

“great.” heeseung muttered under his breath, bending down to pick up a pair of socks. “i’m the neighborhood clown now.”

you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched him gather his clothes, his tall frame awkwardly hunched as he tried to scoop up as much as he could at once. “well, you kind of earned it.” you teased, leaning against the fence.

heeseung straightened up, his arms full of crumpled t-shirts and jeans. “yeah, yeah. laugh it up. just wait until i get back inside.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “oh? and what are you going to do? throw all your clothes back out?”

he flashed you a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip despite everything. “nah. i’ll just make you fold all of them.”

you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept onto your face. “dream on, heeseung.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he bent down to grab the last of his things. as much as you wanted to stay mad at him, moments like this reminded you why you’d stuck around for two years. heeseung was frustrating, infuriating even, but he was also the guy who could make you laugh when you least expected it.

as he stood up, arms overflowing with clothes, he looked over at you with a sheepish smile. “uh, a little help?”

you sighed, walking over to take some of the load off his hands. “you’re lucky i don’t actually hate you.”

heeseung’s grin widened as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your cheek. “and i’m lucky you’re still here.”

[everythingspokenfor]

𝓜𝓻. 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 ����𝓪𝓵𝓵

Pairing: Bakugou x reader. All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI. ﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏Summary: Maybe you should have looked up what your boss looked like...

Thinking about foreign!reader who comes to Japan as a support tech engineer and having an eventful first meeting with Bakugou

Bakugou hates airports, especially around this time of the year, too crowded, too loud, bustling with people. If he had a choice he wouldn't have come, send in a driver and cozied up in his bed but, his mom had different plans, she had called him the night before, specifically told him to pick her up from the airport. So, here he was, waiting for her plane to land, 3:45 am in the morning, a rapidly cooling coffee in his hand.

He was growing agitated at the whispering around him, it's easy for him to get recognised, blond hair and striking red eyes not easily forgettable. He sharply turns to leave the waiting room, not necessarily paying attention when his hand, the one that was holding cold coffee slams into someone and boom now he is staring at the aftermath.

You are staring start ahead, breathing deeply, you turn your head towards the jerk that slipped coffee all over you. Cold seeped through your shirt, the chill almost chilling your bones. You could feel the coffee seeping into your shirt, then inner wear and then your bra.

"Are you going to apologise or what?" You scowl at him, the coffee seeping through your shirt, the wet cloth irritating you further.

Bakugou continues to stare at you, anger evident on your features, he assumes you aren't Japanese from the lack of accent in your english. Before he could apologise you speak again.

"At least have the courtesy to apologise, asshole" you spit out at him, before throwing him the nastiest little glare.

Bakugou is surprised that you don't him, maybe it's his ego but again he is the top hero maybe not his rankings but he is famous and infamous for reasons. Everyone knows him, even people outside of Japan.

"Do you not know who I am?" He finally speaks, not the smartest response but a response nonetheless.

"Am I supposed to know you?" You look at him incredulously, anger subsiding and confusion settling in.

"you know what, don't answer that, i don't care and I am tired, all I know is you are a jerk and I really wish to never run into you again!" You semi-yell at him and leave the waiting room.

He almost chased after you but he phone started ringing, his mother's contact displayed on the screen, informing him of her arrival.

He looked back at the direction you had gone, but you already disappeared. Sighing he left to pick his mother from the arrival gate. And he leaves, slightly bummed that he didn't get to apologise.

-------

"-nd like he walked straight into me and didn't bother apologising." You waved your hands around, trying to emphasize your impromptu collision with Mr. Brick wall, to your new housemate and colleague.

Not necessarily a good think, shit talking on first day of work, but you had to kinda explain why you were doing laundry in the middle of the night.

"That's rude, could've at least apologised.". Mari agreed, both of you walked down the hallway as she was showing you around the agency building.

"Well, hopefully no further mishaps occur." She had stopped in front of a large laboratory, you could already spot your stuff on one of the tables.

"Yeah, hopefully." You mumbled mindlessly, eyes admiring the lab, it was the largest you had seen, with more advanced equipments as well. Mari left you alone at your destination, already going back to her work.

You also got to work, looking into boxes of broken and damaged support equipments, you had already read about them, their functions and materials used to build.

It was an easy job to repair the items, folding your sleeves you got to work, one by one you repaired majority of the items the only thing left where, chunky, hefty, gauntlets.

You knew the belonged to Pro-Hero Dynamight, read about him in passing, already aware of the architecture of the Gauntlets, it didn't take long for you to fix them up, even being generous enough to replace parts with your tech.

Assuming your work was done you called Mari.

"You still need to see if the function alright." She paused before looking at her laptop screen," Pro hero Dynamight is already in the building, you should give him the equipment and see if it works properly."

Even tho, you were slightly peeved, cause of course it works, you just fixed it, you still took the hefty box to 12th floor of the building.

You entered the office without knocking, hands busy holding the box, barely even looking at the people standings there you deposit the box on the table next to the couch.

"Here, it's for Dynamight, fixed it, they should work top notch." You gasp out, breath slightly rapid due to carrying all that weight.

You turn around and spot 2 people in the room, one was Pro-Hero Red Riot, whom you recognised because he has least amount of support equipments listed and the other was Mr. Brick wall.

"You little shit, what are you doing here?" You blurt out without thinking, finger accusingly pointing at him. Not yet aware that the Pro-Hero you were looking for is right there, at the end of your accusatory finger.

Kirishima stared at you in amusement, before speaking," You must be the new tech, Welcome to the agency, I am Kirishima Eijirou." He stood up and extended his hand for a shake, you politely took his hand and uttered your name. Before looking over his shoulder at Bakugou.

"Don't mind me, but what did lil' shit over there do?" Kirishima semi-whispered in your ear, thumb pointing back, at where Bakugou stood.

"I spilled coffee on me, and then stared at me like it was my fault." You stated, arms folded, glaring at him, Bakugou stared back at you, hands shoved in his pocket as he leaned against the table.

"It was an accident, you scurried away before I could apologise." He finally spoke, Kirishima nodded his head, like accepting the explanation.

"NO, I waited and Mr. Brick Wall didn't apologise." You yelled, looking at Kirishima to back you up.

"That's not cool," Kirishima looked at you, shit eating grin on his face, you grinned back, feeling confident that Pro hero Red Riot was on your side, he continued,"You should apologise, Dynamight."

The gratification of getting the apology didn't last long when you registered his last word.

"Dyna-dynamight??" You spluttered," As in Pro Hero?" You looked dumbfounded between the two heros, face flushing in embarrassment, before you turned to Bakugou, who was looking at you bemused.

"I didn't kno- I am sorry, it was my fault." You uttered desperately, the fear of getting fired on your first day making you forget your past grudges. You haphazardness making Kirishima giggle, and Bakugou sigh.

"Oi, it was my fault, should have seen where I was going" Bakugou said calmly, moving to smack the back of Kirishima's head, who promptly shit up.

"You don't have t-." Bakugou shushes you before you could speak," The mistake was mine, me being a hero doesn't change that."

You stared at him, hoping for him to dismiss you soon, so you could sob in the corner of your big, beautiful lab.

"How about this, I get you a coffee, as an apology." He asked, Kirishima let out a snort, before Bakugou glared at him.

"You don't have to, it's not an issue anymore, Mr. Bri-Dynamight." You looked sheepishly at him, hoping he didn't change on the nickname you had given him.

"Let me, I'll get you a coffee, you'll need it after working here for a while."

"Fine then, we can get it sometimes." You accept his proposal (?),before looking at him, awkwardly trying to gesture at the door.

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows, watching you flare your arms towards the door, before Kirishima spoke," You can leave now, I am sure the gauntlets would work just fine."

At the dismissal you scurried out the door, running zig zag avoiding the few people present in the hallway.

"So, that's the 'fireworks' you were talking about, Mr. Brick wall." Kirishima queried, head resting against his palm, as a smug expression formed on his face.

"Don't fucking push it." Bakugou gritted out, trying to think of how he could fix his image in your eyes.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Brick wall." Kirishima chimed.

[totalswag]

Hey girl so I was wanting more dad drew and I was wondering if you could do something like where Tatum is like a teenager and her personality is a lot like her moms which causes them to buttheads sometimes, and in one argument Tatum says some hurtful thing to her mom making her mom cry so drew had to have a talk with her. You can add Leo to idk I was just kinda thinking but besides the point I love your work and I think your amazing keep up the great work girl love ya

teen tension ⎯ DREW STARKEY

authors note stop i miss writing dad!drew, one of my favorites. tatum as a teenager is a mixture of both parents. thank you so much for the kind words it really means a lot. happy new year everyone, i hope you all had a fun and safe night <3

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masterlist

summary tatum, your oldest, says a few hurtful words to you that make you cry. drew has a conversation with tatum about what she did to you.

warning(s) arguments, crying, child + parent arguing.

Tatum is very much like you when you were a teenager. Moments during the week where you two buttheads about certain things that are typical for a mom and daughters to "argue" about.

However, tonight took a turn for the worse. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table finishing up dinner. It had been a long day at work for Drew and you been home cleaning the house.

Leo was talking about how his day went—recently, Leo, has gotten into basketball and wanted to try out for the school. Drew and you were excited to hear the news and encouraged Leo to try out.

"Tatum, could you kindly get off your phone? "Your brother is talking," you say aloud, attracting her attention as you point to Leo, who has stopped talking.

Tatum rolls her eyes and sets her phone on the table beside her dish. "You can put it on the counter please."

"Why can't I leave it next to me?" She gives you an attitude, "We are sitting at the dinner table eating, and none of us have our phones next to us," your tone remains casual but firm.

"Leo can still talk and I won't be on my phone" crossing her arms over her chest, not bothering to move her phone from the table.

Before Tatum can finish speaking, Drew cuts her off with a clear and serious voice and says, "Tatum, watch your tone and listen to your mom." 

Tatum groans loudly, pushes her chair out, picks up her phone, walks to the kitchen, and puts it down after rolling her eyes in frustration.

"There look you happy mom?" Tatum mumbles "so dumb" under her breath as she emphasizes with her palms raised.

You hear her say, "It's not stupid, Tatum." We've had this regulation in place for a very long time, so I don't see why everyone is acting this way—" Tatum slams her hand on the table and interrupts you in the middle of your statement. 

"Please, Mom, just shut up already. I'm tired of you being irritating these past few days—" "Tatum Ann Starkey you will not speak to your mom like that, ever!" Drew abruptly interrupts her, throwing his fist on the table, causing everyone to jump. He gestures for her to "go up to your room now," and Tatum gives him a terrified face.

The corners of your eyes well up with tears. Leo comes running to you and gives you utter comfort. You are wondering why Tatum has suddenly started acting this way.

Leo hugs you close to him and says in your ear, "You are the best mom ever, mom. You did nothing wrong."

"Thank you baby."

"Leo, while I comfort your mother, could you please return the little condiments to their proper places? "Thank you, buddy," Drew says to Leo, who nods and follows instructions.

"Are you okay baby?" Drew asks, crouching down and placing both hands on your knees, looking at you with concern. 

"I'm fine, just confused as to why she's acting this way towards me," you say gently, sniffling.

Drew and you begin discussing what has just occurred. Drew was not pleased with Tatum's actions toward you, her mother. You do so lot for this family, and Tatum does not need to vent her frustration on you.

Drew soothed you in every manner conceivable, making you feel more at peace about yourself—he's the best thing that has ever happened to you. The sound of his words made you relax, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

"I'm gonna have a talk with her upstairs," he pauses, "I love you."

You give him a soft smile, pulling the front strained away from your face—leaning forward in your chair, thinking what just happened. So many thoughts running through your head.

Drew knocked on Tatum's bedroom door, and you knew he was going to give her a big lecture on how to communicate with your parents. You've discussed this with both of your children numerous times.

Leo walks into the living room with a bowl of ice cream for himself and you—he's always been a momma's boy. Leo brings you the bowl and takes a seat next to you on the couch. "Thank you, Leo," you say, throwing your free arm around him and drawing him into a side embrace. 

"Of course mom, I love you."

After five minutes, Tatum and Drew come downstairs. Drew muttered something to Tatum before elbowing her toward you. Leo moves from the couch to wherever Drew is in the home.

As she settles on the couch beside you, Tatum sighs—crisscross apple sauce. "Mom I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you at the dinner table," she says after a little pause. "I shouldn't spoken to you like that."

You take in Tatum's words, "I forgive you, Tatum. What you said to me really hurt," Tatum lets a tear fall from her cheek, "be cautious with your words, darling, I love you," taking her in for a loving, lengthy hug.

You and Tatum unwind in each other's arms while letting the tears flow. Tatum reiterated the same words to you: "I love you, mom, and I apologize." Regardless of how you argue, you will always adore your children.

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[im-so-normal-iswear]

Ahem can I request what shadow would do with his s/o when they have nightmares?

A/n: I've actually only had a nightmare once, and I don't really consider what I had one, so idk how well this is written

Shadow x s/o with nightmare

You wake up with a jolt, your heart pounding against your ribs. you shook ad you heaved in and out heavily. The room is dark, but you can make out Shadow’s silhouette, sitting in his usual spot by the window. He’s always up late, either lost in thought or silently keeping watch. His eyes flick to you almost immediately, keen as ever to notice the change in your breathing.

"You’re awake," he states, his voice low and quiet, more an observation than a question. He’s by your side in moments, moving with the same silent precision you’ve grown used to. The mattress dips slightly under his weight as he sits beside you, his hand hesitating before settling gently on your shoulder.

"You had another one, didn’t you?" Shadow asks, softer this time. His voice, though stern, had a touch of concern in it.

You nod, unable to find your voice yet. The nightmare still fresh in your mind as you tried to regulate your breaths. Shadow notices. Of course he notices. He’s always observant when it comes to you.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, his hand shifting to rest against your back, a small gesture of comfort that feels grounding.

You shake your head. "I... I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll help."

Shadow’s eyes narrow slightly, not out of irritation but in thought. He knows nightmares well, too well. He knows the weight they leave, how they linger like a shadow you can’t shake. Still, he doesn’t push you. That’s one thing you appreciate about him, he respects your boundaries, even if he’s tempted to press further for your own sake.

"All right," he says after a moment, standing abruptly, grabbing a blanket. "Come on."

You blink, startled. "What?"

"You’re not going back to sleep like this," he says matter-of-factly. "We’re going outside."

"Outside? Shadow, it’s the middle of the night!"

"Fresh air helps clear your head," he replies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "Trust me."

You sigh but find yourself sliding out of bed anyway. there was no poing in arguing, and frankly you were too tired to anyways.

Shadow leads you out to the quiet woods near your home, the two of you walking in comfortable silence. The cold night air nipped at your skin, but Shadow draped the blabket he took over your shoulders keeps you warm. He walks just ahead, glancing back every so often to make sure you’re keeping up. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting silvery patches on the ground, and you find yourself focusing on the sound of his footsteps and the rustle of leaves.

After a while, Shadow stops at a clearing. He gestures for you to sit, spreading the blanket out on the grass. "Here," he says, sitting beside you. He tilts his head back to look at the sky. "Look."

You follow his gaze. The stars are brilliant tonight, scattered across the inky sky like shards of a diamond. For a moment, you forget entirely about the nightmare as you gaze up at the night sky.

"Better?" Shadow asks, his voice quieter now.

You nod. "Yeah. Thanks."

He doesn’t say anything, but the slight upward twitch of his mouth tells you enough. Shadow leans back on his hands, his usual stoicism softening in the starlight. "You’re stronger than you think," he murmurs after a while. "Whatever it is you’re afraid of... it will not overtake you. Not while I’m here."

The two of you sit there in comfortavle silence for a moment.

Eventually, he nudges your shoulder gently. "You should try to sleep. I’ll keep watch."

You hesitate, but the exhaustion tugs at you. Lying down on the blanket, you close your eyes, taking in the nights hidden sounds. Cricket chirping, the leaves of the trees around you gently clashing against each other and shadiws steady breathing next to you. It was all almost harmonious.

As sleep starts to claim you, the last thing you hear is his voice, low and steady "I’ve got you. Nothing will hurt you while I’m here."

[shoukokus]

Jamil Viper

Jamil/F!Prefect, short, fluff

You were in the middle of a show Idia had recommended when a rapid knocking pierced the air. Confused, as no one had texted you to tell you they were coming over, you started for the Ramshackle’s front door. Upon opening it, you were not expecting to see a frazzled looking Jamil. He had his school bag and phone.

“Can I study for that exam in a couple days?” Jamil asks quickly.

The test he was talking about comes to the forefront of your mind. All the second-years were scrambling over it. Or at least should be. “Of course.” You allow him in, and the two of you walk the hallway back into the living room. “Is something wrong?”

Jamil exhales, a cute frown on his face while he pulls things out of his bag. “Kalim’s party. I couldn’t hear a thing, even in my closed room.”

You half-sit on the sofa’s armrest. “And you’re not worried about leaving him alone?”

“He’s got half the school with him,” Jamil mutters. “And several guys I trust. Besides, I can’t let my grades slip because of him. Not anymore.” His eyes had a certain glint to them at that last part.

Not wanting to press it anymore, you simply nod. “All right. Do you want something to eat or drink?”

“Not right now, thank you.” He answers politely. “I’ll be in the lounge, I don’t want to interrupt your night.”

“It’s no trouble, Jamil,” you say honestly. “I’ll be here if you need something.” He sends you a truly appreciative smile before you slip back onto the couch, and he goes into the other room.

Several hours later, and Jamil had only taken a bottle of water. You felt like a bad host, but he insisted he was fine and that this was just what he needed. Still, you wanted to make sure he was okay, he was obviously under a lot of pressure right now. And the way he was still bitter about how, before his overblot, he had to hold himself back… It wasn’t good for him. So you quickly whipped up some treats and tea, ready to hand them off when Jamil comes back in. Except he never did, and you fell asleep.

When Jamil finally dotted the last “I” of the practice test, he closed all his books with a relieved sigh. He felt as prepared as he could be, and reluctantly told himself to head back to his dorm. First, he had to thank his generous and cute host. When he returned to the living room, he didn’t see her at first. But upon closer inspection, she was still on the couch, just sleeping. 

“She got some snacks for you,” Grim stretched from his nest of pillows and blankets. “But you never came back in.”

Jamil did feel a little guilty about that, but any negative emotions melted the instant he gazed at her sleeping face. She was perfect and peaceful, and he internally promised to pay back this kindness. A start would be… Looking around, Jamil doesn’t hesitate to pull one of the blankets Grim was using, and drape it onto her.

While it was very tempting to stay, he eventually turns and leaves the Ramshackle dorm. Next time though, he could be persuaded.

Requests are open!

[enbyfvcker]

Growing Attached

Wade x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,7k

Tags: fluff, smut, suggestive/explicit content, established relationship, headcanons, animalistic!logan, scent marking, praise kink, slight degradation kink, switch!poolverine

It is ironic to Logan how quickly he got attached to the guy he tried to kill nearly ten minutes after meeting and who annoys him as a daily rotine. But Wade crept his way into his heart and made a home there, slowly tearing his walls down.

Hell, he tried to sacrifice himself for him. And looking back, he would do it all over again.

He's really grateful for how his life turned out after Wade practically kidnapped him. He was miserable before.

He has a home now, a warm place to sleep. Wade is always cooking for him, and beside how he pretends to hate the merc's jokes, he realizes he's laughing way more often. He made new friends, and it hit him that now he's also part of that same family he saw on that picture Wade showed him on the Honda Odyssey, the family he helped save.

At first, staying with Wade and blind Al was supposed to be a temporary thing. But months passed, and he found out that he didn't wanna be anywhere else. He wouldn't have it any other way.

He spent so much time alone, so many years feeling the weight of losing all that mattered to him and being hated for simply existing, surviving.

He doesn't want to be alone anymore. Even if it comes with the risk of losing everything all over again. He'd fight for it with claws and teeth in the bat of an eye. He wouldn't bear to lose everything again.

Al would joke about how Wade tamed Logan. About how, at first, he was all gruff and grumpy and drowned in self-destructive behaviors, always drinking his ass off whenever he could. But now he's softer.

Wade convinced him to lay back on drinking one night when he crumbled on the merc's arms after getting completely wasted, telling him about all the horrible stuff he went through in his universe. Told him about the nightmares, what he seen, what he's done...

Wade would always ease him and calm him down, bringing him back to the present when Logan had a nightmare.

Wade would get him doing stupid stuff like movie nights, painting nails, going out in the middle of the night to go eat cheap street food. One day, he got Logan to play Just Dance, the merc laughing as he and Laura danced to some pop song.

So maybe he can't really contest it. Wade did, in a way, tamed him.

And he feels like it should bother him more, but it doesn't.

At first, his feelings confused him, but loving Wade was easy.

Give hatred and insults at Logan, and it will be reflected right back at you. But give him affection and care, and it is also reflected.

In his own way.

He'd hear Wade's incessant yapping, already used to the merc talking nonstop. He kinda grew fond of it. He knew that when Wade's sad, he gets quieter than usual, and he always seems to know how to ease the merc.

When they'd fight, it would be so much more playful than the first times. They would smile between strikes and stabs and Wade could see the way Logan let him throw him around a bit.

He would go with Wade whenever he would walk Mary Puppins, accompanying behind the merc like a guard dog. Each time someone would even look weird at Wade, he would practically snarl at the person, scowling angrily. And if he heard someone saying any mean comment, Wade would have to stop him from pouncing at the stranger.

The first time Wade grabbed his hand in public, Logan tore it away on automatic, but the sad puppy look in Wade's eyes made him sigh and grip the merc's hand again, holding it as they walked. Then, the next times, it was always Logan that grabbed his hand first, not letting go until they got home.

Whenever Wade would feel self-conscious, Logan would pepper kisses all over his face, trace the shape of his scars, hold him close... In his eyes it didn't mattered how Wade looked when his heart was already so full of love for him.

He would steal Wade's shirts even though Wade bought clothes especially for him. Logan simply likes his scent.

He let his animalistic traits out more often when he's around Wade, getting more comfortable in his presence over time. Wade's heart almost melts whenever Logan rubs himself on him, practically begging to be pet. The way Wade swore he could hear purrs whenever he stroked the right spot on his hair. Or when Logan follows him around the apartment like a puppy, quietly watching everything Wade does and clinging to him.

The first nights Logan spent on the couch, Wade would wake up to see him all curled up, his eyebrows furrowed. But as time went on, he would often find Logan sleeping completely spread out, his stomach upwards as he snores lowly.

And when they started sleeping together, they would always wake up tangled in the morning in Wade's bed. Sometimes, with Logan under the covers because of the sunlight and with his face buried in Wade's chest.

Wolverines are really territorial. Logan started doing everything in his power to rub off his scent on Wade, to mark him as his. Wade would pretend to not notice, but he found it extremely adorable.

One day, when he was grocery shopping, he saw Vanessa and they talked for a couple minutes, hugged awkwardly as they said goodbye. He didn't feel anything, and it made him smile internally. A while ago, he would've been triggered seeing her like this. But honestly, how can he have eyes for anyone else when he has Wolvie all to himself at home?

When he does get home, however, Logan's nose picks up the different scent. He gets closer to Wade as he's storing the groceries, sniffing the merc's neck as he stands behind him.

"Hey, peanut. Missed you too."

"You smell different..." Logan grunts against Wade's neck, his heart racing with a feeling he can't quite place.

"Oh? How so?"

"You smell like ladies perfume."

"Well, I use ladies perfume sometimes, for your information-"

"I know how you smell." Logan snarls, gripping Wade's waist and licking the skin of his neck, biting after, eliciting a gasp from the merc. "You smell like you and me mixed together. And now I smell someone else." His grip gets tighter. "You smell like that dancer girl."

"Vanessa? Well, yes, we met shortly today-" Wade feels a sharp sting as fangs dig into his skin, the sensation making him shiver.

"Gotta mark you again." Wade chuckles at that. He couldn't help it, it's just too damn cute.

"I don't think everyone has your sense of smell, Wolvie. But who am I to stop you?"

"Don't care. Want you to smell like me..."

And then, in the next hours, Logan's all over Wade. Kissing, biting as they fuck, wishing that the bite marks would actually stay instead of disappearing in less than a minute. Their bodies tangled, Logan holding him close, his nails scratching Wade's back as he smirks with the way the pain makes Wade's cock throb inside him. He doesn't stop until his scent mingles with Wade again, until he smells like him and only him, making sure that every time he cums he does it on the merc's skin. And even after they shower together, he can still smell himself all over Wade, and it fills him with an animalistic possession.

Wade loves that feral side of Logan. So he may or may not have googled and found out that Wolverines love cinnamon and it is like an aphrodisiac for them, and then he bought a cinnamon skin oil to test it.

The first time he wore it, Logan went absolutely wild with the smell all over Wade's body, and Wade practically couldn't tear him away even if he tried. Logan seemed to go blind with lust, tearing Wade's clothes away and bullying his way into the merc's hole, his face glued to Wade's neck, sniffing his skin.

"Smells so fuckin' good..."

And Wade definitely started wearing it more often after that.

Wade noticed that Logan slowly began to be less annoyed with his pet names. At first, he would roll his eyes whenever Wade called him "honey badger", "peanut", "kitty cat", "puppy" and others, but then after time, Wade could swear he could see a light tint on his face whenever he called Logan sweet things.

"Can you grab that for me, peanut?"

"Missed me, puppy?"

"Feels good, kitten? Good boy, so perfect for me..."

Logan felt stupid with the way those words made him feel all tingly inside, his heart pounding violently as if it would burst out of his chest and run to Wade.

It was amusing to Wade how Logan could switch from being really rough and intense in bed to want it slow and soft, to crave Wade's praises and care as the merc fucked into him. Wade always seems to read what Logan needs, always meeting the hungry harshness as well as the gentle passion.

"Such a needy little slut just for me, hm peanut?"

"That's it, baby. You're so good, kitten. Such a good boy for me. You look so pretty, taking me so well~ Love you."

Logan's nightmares would slowly fade, never truly disappear, but lose its constance. Before, he could barely have a full night sleep without drinking until he passed out, and now he sees himself curling up with Wade in deep slumber and long naps.

Laura noticed the thing between them two from the start. She probably noticed before Logan could even understand it at all, but decided not to comment on it until she saw they were together.

She told Logan he seemed happier. So different from when they met on the void, in the best way possible.

And he is happier. He hadn't felt that way in a long time.

[webslingingslasher]

i’m not having a good time

-‼️

*something quick... cw: mentions of death.

---

''i'm sorry i didn't get to make it up to you.'

and now he never will because he's dead. peter parker is dead and he didn't get a chance to make it right with you. your knees kissed the grass, sobbing while you hold onto his stiff shoulders you whimper out your own apologies.

sorry you were so mad, sorry you punished him more than he deserved, sorry you didn't get to spend forever with him, sorry that you let him die without knowing he'd never be able to make it up to you.

he's bloody. small grazes and cuts decorated his skin, you're not sure what happened or how you got there but peter's last words on earth was an i'm sorry. you curl up on him, pathetically pleading him to stop playing and open his eyes.

peter's chest is still. he's not breathing, his heart isn't beating. he's dead. every regret you've had over the last month started to eat at you. when you blocked his number, when you'd ignore his attempts to try to talk to you in person, when you punished him over and over for making you break up with him.

'peter, please wake up. please, please, wake up.' you're not sure how cpr works but you're trying. pushing on the center of his chest with all your weight, nothing happens. you gasp for air, the panic attack finally hitting.

you watched peter die and you couldn't save him.

'peter, wake-' you fly up from your bed, fighting off blankets, you're sweaty. your clammy skin cools instantly, wiping under your eyes, it's wet from tears. you're still blinking them out, falling with each tremble of your breath.

it was a dream. a terrible, vivid dream. you've never woken up crying before, you've never dreamt of peter dying either. it wasn't real but it feels real. it felt like real life. it looked so real.

a shiver runs up your spine, more tears fall. you couldn't stop your shaky hands, digging for your phone. you pull up instagram and unblock his account- he hasn't posted in weeks. whispering out a curse you sniffle and check his tagged posts- nothing new there either.

what if he actually died? what if that was him telling you goodbye? what if he never gets to make it right?

you need to hear his voice, you need him to tell you he's okay and he's alive. brushing away a new track of tears you unblock his number and call, keeping an eye on your sleeping roommate and trying to keep your cries hushed.

it rings all the way through but he doesn't pick up.

you try again.

again.

again.

again.

again.

again.

again.

why isn't he answering? peter always answers, even if it's the middle of the night. what if he actually died? what if he was in bed and he'd never wake up? what if the house was full of red and blue lights and a team of professionals gameplanning how to get a body bag downstairs?

it's illogical, you know peter isn't dead. you know he's passed out and lightly snoring into his pillow. peter's breathing and he's  fine but that dream was so real... you can't let it go.

your knees shake when you get out of bed. shrugging on the warmest thing you can find, you silently escape your dorm and walk with a purpose to peter's place. ten minutes of crushing anxiety while you pray for a call back.

---

'trouble?'

it's three in the morning and someone was pounding on the front door. peter wasn't expecting to see his ex in front of him. he even rubs his eyes for good measure, you're still there.

you stare at him in awe. running your eyes over him four times, checking off an imaginary checklist. he's here, standing in front of you. confused as all hell- but he's alive. he's breathing. he's not dead.

but fuck, it felt so real. so, so real.

you naw on your bottom lip, trying to hold everything in but peter's alive and all you can think about is when he wasn't. the panic you felt was real, the regret was real. tears build in your eyes, it's not enough to see him, you need to feel him.

'what's wrong?' peter's voice is soft, he can see the impending breakdown too. your mind tells you his last words, your throat feels tight.

'i'm sorry i didn't get to make it up to you.'

shaking your head, tears race down your cheeks. they won't stop, your chest shakes and you're able to mumble two words before losing yourself and rushing peter with the tightest hug you've ever given him.

'you're alive.'

peter stumbles but holds you up, he doesn't know what's happening.

'i am.' you whimper, moving your head around to cup your ear right over his heart. 'your heart is beating. you're alive.' are you saying it for him or for you? peter doesn't think you showed up in the middle of the night, in tears, just to let him know he's alive.

'did you think i wasn't?' peter holds in a grunt, your hands twisting into his shirt, squeezing the fabric before letting out a soft sob. you inch the cotton up, cold hands press into his stomach. he's warm. he's not stiff. he's alive.

but those crushing minutes when it felt like death, when it felt real, keep looping.

peter's calmly drags his hand up and down your back, stopping to pat at a particularly hard cough. normally, during a breakdown like this peter would tell you that you're okay and he's there but he switches the lingo this time.

'i'm okay. i'm alive and you're right here hugging me.'

'say it again. promise me.' you feel peter take a breath, you almost collapse. he's breathing, he's alive. 'i promise i'm okay, i promise i'm alive.'

you hold your breath to stop more tears- peter's okay.

'i had a dream you died. and it felt so real, i tried calling you but you wouldn't answer so i had to come check. i needed to make sure.' there were a lot of pauses to get it all out, your breath kept hitching but peter was patient and kept you right over his heartbeat.

'i'm sorry,' you wince hearing it come from his mouth. 'tarrent kept drunk texting me, i put it on silent.' but he'd never do it again. no matter how many texts and articles he gets sent about the flat earth society.

'you died.'

'no i didn't. i'm right here, want me to pinch you so you know it's real?' you know it is but confirmation doesn't hurt. 'yeah.' you back away and hold out your arm, jolting when peter squeezes your skin between his fingers. 'see? not dead.'

no, not dead.

he's in front of you and you showed up in tears. you went to peter's house in the middle of the night to check if he was breathing. you broke up with him but needed to know he was still alive.

you feel silly and turn to check the streetlights, you can feel peter looking at you.

'this is stupid. i knew you were fine but it felt real and i was crying and-'

'you needed to see me.’ you weren’t going to say it but peter did.

‘logic wasn't working because the what if was so loud. for months after my uncle died i'd get up in the middle of the night to make sure may was okay, so i get it.' peter wasn't making you feel bad so you shouldn't make yourself feel bad. he understands you. he knows that part of your brain that can't shut up, he's heard it too.

'yeah.' you know what happens next, you just don't want to say goodbye yet. peter offers something you didn't expect. he nudges out of the doorway and nods towards the inside.

'sleepover?'

you shouldn't. it was one thing to show up, it's another to stay.

'i can't.'

peter wants to tell you that you could. but he knows you won't. you'd think of it as losing, you don't think he deserves your company. he doesn't, but he still wants to show he cares.

'will you let me walk you home?'

you hesitate, it's probably not a good idea. but neither was showing up for a welfare check. even if he's not yours anymore, you like knowing he's okay. it's backwards and a little telling if you say yes but after your nightmare you'd be sorry too if you didn't give him a chance to make it up to you.

'you can walk me home.'

'really? you'll let me?' you wanted to ask if he expected a no but you don't. 'yeah, really.' the door seals shut as you walk down the steps and peter's right behind you.

following your lead. 

[tkwrites]

Welcome Home - Nico Hischier x ofc

gif from turbolainen

Title: Welcome Home

Part VI in the It Doesn’t Matter AU

It Doesn't Matter Masterlist

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Nico Hischier x Lena (ofc)

Summary: Lena welcomes Nico home from a road trip in a way he's only dreamed of.

Warnings: Smut (18+ Only!), heavy nipple play, unprotected p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!)

Word count: 1,800

Comments: I had no intention of posting another Nico and Lena piece so soon, but this came to me last night and practically wrote itself. I was half asleep through part of it, so please forgive any mistakes. In many ways, it's extremely self indulgent, but I think you'll enjoy it, too.

Nico and Lena continue to be my spiciest AU. They just can't keep their hands off each other.

If you did enjoy this fic, please consider letting me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Welcome Home

Hey, I’m sorry but I’m in the middle of something. Can you catch a ride home with Jack and Luke? 

This message should have been his first clue Lena was up to something. She never bailed on plans like this. He’d been looking forward to her picking him up after the road trip. Not just because it meant he got to see her sooner, but because part of him really liked being seen with her, now that the guys knew they were together. 

She wouldn’t bail without reason, though. So, he swallowed his disappointment down and responded, Sure. See you soon. 

When Nico opened the apartment door, he’d expected to find Lena at her easel, working on a painting, having asked him to ride with Jack because she wasn’t in a good stopping place. She did that occasionally before bed, staying up to get it just right. 

Instead, she was casually leaning her butt against the back of the couch, wearing nothing but a red silk slip with delicate black lace at the neck and hem.

“I wanted to welcome you home,” she said with a sultry smile. 

“I…” he couldn’t even form words. Speech was for greater men than him. He could barely even think. 

“Didn’t want to ruin the surprise by picking you up in this,” she teased, pulling at the hem. 

He nodded, dumbly, reveling in the knowledge that she'd done this just for him.

One of the seven nights he was gone, they were talking on the phone when she’d asked him what kind of lingerie he liked. He’d told her he didn’t really know (anything would look incredible on her), but he’d always dreamed of coming home from a roadie to his girlfriend waiting for him in lingerie. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she would ask him to ride with Jack so she could make it a reality.

Relishing the way his eyes raked over her again, Lena smiled. It was so easy to fulfill this fantasy, especially when she already had this nightie in Devils colors. She’d only worn it for someone once before but wore it on her own plenty. She loved the feel of it - the brush of the silk against her nipples turned her knees to jello nearly every time.  

“I missed you,” she said, taking slow steps toward him. 

The way the fabric lifted slightly with each sway of her hips made his mouth water. God, she was so beautiful. 

“I missed you, too,” he managed to say. 

This fantasy she was bringing to life had his heart banging in his chest. 

“Yeah?” she asked. “How much?” 

“So much,” he moaned, finally reaching out to touch her. The silk was just as soft as it looked. 

“You wanna show me how much?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. 

Licking his lips, he nodded. 

She leaned up to brush her lips over his - barely even touching. His mouth buzzed in anticipation. “Come show me then,” she said before turning to walk down the hall.

He swore in German and then in French before finally saying, “you’re fucking incredible.” 

She glanced over her shoulder and met his eyes, “coming?” 

It was all the prompting he needed. He ran to follow her. By the time he got into their room, she was climbing up on the bed, giving him a perfect view of her ass. A desperate noise crawled up his throat. 

He waited for her to get comfortable, sitting up on the bed before he asked, “what did you have in mind?”

“You’re showing me how much you missed me, remember?” 

Nodding, he tore at his clothes, stripping off the hoodie and shorts until he stood before her in nothing but boxer briefs. 

“Off or on?” she asked, pulling the lace hem of her nighty up her thigh. 

“On,” he panted, eyes dragging over her again. He wanted to be the one to take it off.

Her smile let him know he'd made the right choice. 

“This is incredible,” he said, running a finger under one of the straps as he brought his body closer to hers. 

“I like how it feels,” she admitted. And before she could stop herself, she continued, “I’m about 96 percent sure you could get me off just by playing with my nipples through it.” 

His eyes were drawn down to them automatically. They seemed to pebble under his gaze, poking against the fabric. “Yeah?” he asked, voice gone husky. 

“I had an ex who almost got me there but moved on right before I was about to come,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Nico wrinkled his nose. “Was he blind?” She wasn’t difficult to read. She always moaned and rocked her hips up three or four times when she was about to crest. 

“Something like that,” she giggled. In reality, he’d mistaken her groan of frustration as one of desire and slid into her, shooting off before she  even had the chance to come. 

“Do you want me to try?”

She bit her lip and nodded, looking up at him through her lashes. 

“Where?” he asked.

“Where?” she repeated, confused. Hadn't they just talked about where she wanted to he touched? 

“Where do you want to be?” he clarified, gesturing to his lap as an example. “What position?” He could not be relied upon to communicate well when she was wearing this for him. 

“Oh,” she blushed. As she closed her eyes, trying to envision what would feel best, one of her hands drifted up, fondling herself through the silk. Her core throbbed to life between her legs. The fact that Nico wanted to do this for her turned her on nearly as much as the caress of her own fingers. 

Her face softened, and Nico groaned. He flirted with the idea of letting her continue, wanting to see her get herself off like this. On the other hand, he was supposed to be showing her. And he wanted to touch her. He always wanted to touch her.

Reaching forward, he knocked her hand out of the way so he could tweak her nipple instead. 

Her head fell back, and she moaned, “lighter.”

“Hu?”

“I want you to touch lighter,” she said, “like this.” She reached up, gently pinching one of the sensitive nubs before dragging the silk over the tip. It felt so good — slippery and cool. A whisper on her sensitive skin.

He took her instruction, relaxing his touch.

Her back arched, pressing closer as his thumb lightly circled the peak. “Oh my god. That feels so good,” she breathed. “Don't stop.”

His left hand came up to join the right, repeating the treatment on her other breast. 

“Fuck, Nico. Oh, yes.”

Her chest heaved a deep breath, and her hips began to roll. 

“Here,” Nico said, momentarily abandoning his mission so he could get them in a better position.

She whined at the loss but cut herself off when he sat against the headboard and pulled her into his lap.

Quick as a flash, she was all over him, kissing him deeply as she brought her hips closer to his.

She was already soaked, leaving a trail of arousal on his skin. 

Groaning, his hands slipped back up to her breasts, gently pinching and rotating his fingers.

“Oh,” she keened. It felt incredible. Each tweak and twirl of her nipples shot a rocket of pleasure straight to her clit. She was sure if he so much as brushed the sensitive pearl, she would fall apart, receptive to even the slightest touch. 

“Come on,” he urged, touching the pad of his thumbs to the peaks and rubbing them in small circles.

“Oh,” she groaned, hips rocking as her back arched, “oh fuck Nico.”

His left hand went back to pinching and rolling the pebble between his thumb and forefinger as the right continued the gentle circles. 

The sudden force of his dual stimulation exploded in her veins. 

Hips pressed fully to him, she only had to roll once before her clit brushed his stomach, catching his happy trail, and pleasure exploded into her body. 

Nico kept going, tender and steady while she chanted his name. He was mesmerized that this simple touch could bring so much out of her. 

Gently, he pulled on one of the tender peaks, and, head thrown back, she cried out as heat blazed anew inside her. 

“Lena,” he groaned, leaning down to suck one nipple into his mouth, straight through the fabric. 

She writhed atop him. 

With his hand free, he pushed his boxers out of the way and urged her to sink onto his hard cock.  

Feeling him slip inside her as her orgasm raged was a breathtaking new sensation she would never forget. 

God, she felt incredible around him, urging him deeper. 

When the haze of pleasure slipped from Lena’s mind, an overwhelming urge to blow his mind took its place. He'd just given her two (three?) earth shattering orgasms in a row. Before the first one stopped, he did something new to begin again. She needed him to feel the same way.

Pushing him back gently, his mouth reluctantly popped off her breast as he was forced to lean back against the headboard. 

“Let me,” she said, rocking her hips with a little more insistence. 

Nico gulped and nodded, looking up at her with those big, brown eyes.

In all the times he'd imagined being with her, his mind had never come up with a scenario like this. Reality really was better than any kind of dream. 

In his partially reclined position, it was easier for her to touch him. Her hands slipped up his stomach, and as they found a new home on his chest, she softly circled his nipples with her thumbs, grazing over top every few passes. 

He moaned. He'd known nipple play was a thing. Lena liked her nipples played with nearly as much as her clit, and, even though she'd touched him there before, he'd never felt anything like this. It was like she built some kind of pleasure highway from his chest to his dick and each time she touched him, sensation rushed between the two.

He groaned her name, back arching and hips thrusting to meet each of her movements. 

Lena relished making him feel this way, eating up the shaky way he drew breath and the flutter of his lashes as his eyes rolled back. 

Feeling him spill into her as he shouted his pleasure sparked a sense of intense satisfaction inside Lena until it was glowing bright within her. 

“Oh my God,” he gasped as she lay over him, taking care to keep him seated inside her.

“Thank you,” she said, propping herself on one elbow so she could look into his face. “That was even better than I dreamed.”

A cocky smile ticked his lips up. “I'm glad,” he mumbled, pulling her in for a kiss. “I'll do that anytime you want.” 

It Doesn't Matter Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[angelic-writer]

Mavis made his way through the sea of people to get to his locker. No one spoke to him. No one paid any attention to him. He didn’t mind this, actually. It allowed him to pass through undetected like a ninja. It was a perk of being one of the quiet kids. Although, sometimes, he wished he had more than just four people to talk to.

He spotted Carter through the crowd and gave him a quick “Hey!”. He waved back in response, smiling at him.

Compared to Mavis' drab appearance, looking like he just got out of bed, Carter’s hair was combed back in a neat fashion, his eyes sparkling like he just got a good night’s sleep. His attire consisted of a black shirt, blue jeans and a red flannel jacket. He was a bit of an anomaly at school. Most girls talked to him, but he had never gone out on a date with them. He was popular, but he was always seen talking with Mavis. People had asked him to hang out with people of his social status, but he always turned it down. “I don’t want to leave my friend alone, you know?”

Carter grew concerned when he saw that Mavis' eyes were droopy. “You okay?”

“Oh yeah. I just didn’t get enough sleep last night.” He answered, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh… Did you…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dream about it again?”

Mavis let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah. I thought I got past that. I thought it had gone away in middle school.”

“Listen, if you need to talk, I can come over and we can. Or if you don’t want to, we can just talk about whatever. I’m fine with anything.”

Mavis smiled. Whenever he was around, his mood would improve a bit. They had both been friends since they were kids and they bonded over their family struggles. With Mavis' family, his parent’s feuds that constantly aggravated him. With Carter’s family, his mother having medical problems. He remembered the day of a particularly nasty fight where Mavis' mom and dad got into a screaming match. He had gone to Carter's house, crying, wondering if his parents didn’t love him anymore. “Is it my fault?” He asked him in tears. “Is it my fault mommy and daddy are constantly arguing? Weren't they supposed to love each other?"

Carter was quick to rescue him, offering a shoulder for him to cry on, reassuring him that his parents still love him. For the rest of the day, they played some of his favorite video games, played hide and seek outside with Mavis hiding in the shed, and even let him play with some of his action figures. Even though he felt uncomfortable about barging into his house unannounced, the fact that his friend was there for him in his time of need made it all worth it.

Mavis and Carter both got their textbooks out of their respective lockers and were about to walk to their classes when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey guys! You lookin’ pretty snazzy today!”

They both turned to look at the source and their smiles widened. There they are. Tyler Lechner and Gavin Ozpin. They were both seen as the punk kids in school, always getting into trouble with school faculty. That was definitely why Charlie hung out with them. Tyler had a hoodie that had the logo of a rock band on it while Gavin was all decked out in his scene kid gear - ripped, black jeans and a ripped, denim jacket. He had multiple piercings in his ears and one of his eyebrows had a shaven mark on one side. He even got himself a tongue piercing which Mavis couldn’t help but cringe at. He remembered how he reacted the first time he saw Gavin's new look.

“Whoa! Dude, you look... Different. What'd you do?” He had asked him on their first day of sophomore year.

“Well, Charlie and Ty took me to a few places. We thought it would, y’know, change our status quo a bit.” He fluffed up his hair. “Gave me some curls too.”

“What status quo?” Carter asked.

“Uhhh….”

Tyler stepped in. “He just wanted to look different this year.”

“So, spent another boring night without internet?” Gavin asked, leaning against the lockers.

“Actually, it’s pretty beneficial. It allowed me to catch up on some reading.” Carter said.

“Pfft! Who has time to read anyway? There could be so many other things we could be doing. So many TV shows we could be watching. But thanks to the mayor’s bone-headed decision, our rights are slowly being taken away!”

“Gavin, you know there’s a reason behind the curfew and electronics rule.” Tyler said.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s because they’re trying to keep us safe from the mimics. But I mean, they didn’t have to say that we can’t use our cell phones after 9, right?” He waggled his cell phone. “I mean, I doubt someone’s face could appear on something like this and kill you.”

"I mean, it could be possible considering what they can do."

“Well, it’s best to be safe and follow the rules. You don’t want to get fined again, do you, Gav?” Mavis asked.

“No…”

“Good.”

They changed the conversation to something more suited for the morning. The point Gavin made about the cell phone restriction made Mavis think… There hadn’t been any reports of mimics coming through phones as of yet. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t really a good reason for this rule. Maybe the mayor caved in after several paranoid calls from parents. Something about their children being influenced by Satan or the mimics. Business as usual in Crestwood county.

Other than that, life resumed as usual for the teens. Tyler and Gavin were talking about who knows what while him and Carter started quizzing each other to prepare for Mr. Bentley’s test.

"Hey Tyler? Where's Charlie?" Gavin asked.

"She's probably hanging out with her gal-pals. She always want to keep up the bad girl attitude." Tyler responded.

"Hmm."

Although he said that, they already knew who Charlie was.

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[mrsarcherofinfamy]

Hi can you please do a Damian Priest x Reader where the reader and Damian are dating and she gets jealous about him and Kayden are making TikTok videos together ( I love Kayden and her videos ❤️). And a fluff at the end.

●Damian Priest x Reader●

____________________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Sitting in the passenger's seat in my best friend Zelina Vega's car, I am scrolling on TikTok as she is driving us to our next location. I come across Kayden's video and the corner says "POV: he asks you to drive." I watch it and as the camera turns towards the passenger seat, Damian's body comes into frame making me gasp.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Kayden posted another video. And apparently she is driving Damian to the next show. When he told me he was going by himself."

"Girl.... I told you he was no good for you."

"I know. You have told me multiple times."

"Yes I have. And now he is over here taking videos with Kayden acting like they are together. Again. Maybe when we get to the hotel, you take him off your reservation for the room and make him have his own room. He didn't tell you he was going with Kayden than he can be surprised about his own hotel room when he gets there."

"I guess you are right. I am very pissed off about this."

"Give him a taste of his own medicine."

I shake my head, close my phone and lay against the seat starting to fall asleep.

____________________________________________________

*at the hotel*

We walk up to the counter and a nice lady greets us.

"Hello ladies. How may I help you?"

"I'm checking in for Y/N."

"Y/N and Damian?"

"No. Just Y/N. I don't want Damian on the reservation anymore."

"Okay. I can do that for you. Give me a few minutes."

She goes on typing on the computer while we wait. Zelina goes to another lady to check in. The lady gives me my keycard and all the information making sure Damian has been taken off the reservation. We grab our belongings and head up to our hotel rooms. I say goodbye to Zelina, swipe my card and enter my room. I throw my bags on the bed and flop down next to them. Next thing I know I am fast asleep.

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

*later in the night*

"Y/N! Y/N!"

I sit up, rub my face and try to understand why I hear someone yelling my name from the hallway. I get up putting my shirt and sweatpants back on that I apparently took off some time while I was sleeping. I walk up to the door and listen to who is shouting.

"Y/N! I will break down every one of these doors until I find you!"

"Please calm down."

I open the door and slightly look out seeing Damian looking super angry standing in the hallway and Kayden in front of him with her hands on his chest trying to get him to calm down. I open the door and lean against the doorframe crossing my arms. He sees me and pushes past Kayden walking up to me.

"Y/N! Why did you take me off our reservation?! You have someone else here?!"

He pushes me out of the way of the door and walks into my room. A tear rolls down my cheek at the questions he just asked me. He starts walking around my room looking for someone when I am the only one in my room. Kayden comes up next to me, puts a hand on my shoulder and looks in at Damian.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you in any way. If there is anyth....."

I stop her before she keeps talking.

"Its not you. You didn't do anything wrong. He lied to me. And now he thinks I'm cheating on him."

"I'm gonna go."

She turns and runs down the hallway when I turn looking at Damian who is standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. I close the door, turn to look at him and cross my arms as well.

"Care to explain why you took me off our reservation?"

"Care to explain why you lied to me and got a ride from Kayden?"

"I didn't lie to you! Kayden is my friend! I asked her to drive me because I was exhausted from having the main event of Raw! You already left with Zelina! I didn't wanna fall asleep behind the wheel!"

"You told me to leave with Zelina! That you would be fine driving by yourself! You didn't even text me to tell me you were going with Kayden! Than you keep making these tik tok videos together and everyone thinks you two are together and dating! Like you left me behind! You barely take pictures with me but you take videos with everyone else! How do you think I feel?!"

"I don't know how you feel because you never talk to me about your feelings!"

"I try but you never seem to have time to sit down and talk! You are either wrestling or hanging out with your friends! Then when you come back home to me, you go right to bed! When is there time to talk?"

He stares at me, looking like he doesn't know what to say. I wipe the tears that have seemed to start running down my face as I just laid out all my feelings to Damian. I take a deep breath and sit down on the bed.

"Y/N, I'm sorry...."

"Damian, I don't wanna hear you are sorry. I love you. But you really need to work on communication with me and spending more time with me. That's all I ask."

He kneels down in front of me putting his hands on the top of my knees looking up at me.

"Babygirl, I love you more than you will ever know. I will work on communication with you and we will spend way more time together that you might get sick of me."

I giggle looking at him. He puts his hands on my cheeks looking at me smiling.

"I promise Y/N. With my whole heart. I love you."

"I love you too."

He pulls my face to his and kisses me hard. He starts pushing me back on the bed climbing over top of me still kissing me. Seems I will be in for a long night.....

THE END.

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

i'm here - 1.8k words

bf!patrick zweig x shy!socialite!reader

two fics in two days?? who even is this??

this is gossiping, girly, sweet soft boyfriend patrick zweig fic 😭😭😭😭

ok so basically in this one you're a socialite girl, socially anxious and shy, and you always have to go to your parents' events and have endless small talk to impress their friends. and you hate it. but this time, you have your sweet boyfriend patrick there, with his "zweig charm", to handle it for you.

fluff, soft!patrick zweig (as always w me), and just basically yeah. i imagined it as college era patrick zweig, and classes/academics get mentioned once, but in general it's not set in a super specific time period.

partially inspired by a conversation i had with @grimsonandclover and a bot that she made, so creds to the loml annie for that!! and for inspiring me to write patrick “one of the girls” zweig because he is very much present in this fic. and also a million thanks to @newrochellechallenger2019 for discussing the idea with me earlier <333

and i wrote this with fem!reader in mind, and like you wearing a dress and heels is mentioned, and patrick is taller than you, but if you ignore that this could generally be read as gender neutral? but do be aware of that!

ok that's it! i hope u enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

you'd always hated going to your parents' events. you were already shy and more on the introverted side, so having to spend the whole night in a crowded place full of your parents' coworkers and friends, and being expected to greet all of them and "make the rounds" felt like pure torture. the music was always bad, the guests were always obnoxious, and your social anxiety always went through the roof.

luckily for you, your boyfriend was the complete opposite. patrick zweig thrived in social settings, always having his loud, cocky persona on, and it seemed like he never ran out of things to say. so, when one of your parents' dreaded events was coming up, it was a no-brainer fro you to invite him as your plus-one. 

he always seemed to understand you, and your nonverbal cues, in a way that not even you could fully understand. he could always tell when you were anxious. 

so, there you were, in your bedroom, slipping on your red-bottomed heels in your silky black dress, patrick sitting on your bed waiting for you to get ready.

"i really, really don't want to go," you sigh, slipping on your shoes and sitting next to patrick on the bed. you lean your head on his shoulder as he puts his arm around you, rubbing circles on your back reassuringly. 

"you look nice. and it'll be fine, i'm here with you this time," he says gently, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "if you get overwhelmed, i can take over. i'll do all the talking."

you smile softly at his reassurances, resting against him for a moment before your parents call you down, saying that its time to leave. 

you get up, as patrick slips on his suit jacket, and intertwines his hand with yours as you walk down the stairs, and out of the house into the car that's taking you to the event. you sit in the third row with patrick, your parents in the row in front of you, as the driver begins to pull away to take you all to the gala.

the silence of the car is only interrupted by the sound of the heater blowing and your parent's quite, idle chatter. you leg bounces as you anxiously anticipate the event, going over names in your head and trying to craft the introduction and greeting you'll give everyone, like you're trying to memorize lines in a script. you look out the window, spacing out, when you feel patrick scooting from his seat on the opposite side of the row to the middle seat. he intertwines his hand with yours, lifting them to press a kiss to the back of your hand, whispering affirmations like "it's ok" and "i'm here" to you under his breath. 

you look over at him with a nervous smile, him meeting you with a wide grin. "i like that i get to take you to one of these," he whispers, quiet enough that no one else in the car could hear it, as his thumb rubs circles in your hand. "we can be judgey together, you know? i know how much you like to gossip about the outfits. i'll make it actually fun to be there, you know," he murmurued, his grin turning smug as he watched your anxiety break a little as you let out a quiet laugh. 

"yeah, yeah, sure," you whisper back, rolling your eyes withy a smile as you lean your head onto his shoulder. "i'm glad you're coming with me to this," you say sincerely, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head in response.

"of course i'm here. that's my job as a boyfriend isn't it?" he laughs, letting you relax against him, sitting comfortably in the silence of the car ride as you near the venue. "you look beautiful tonight, you know."

he feels you smile as you hide your face in his shoulder. even though you guys have bee dating for a while, you still get shy at patrick's compliments, and he loves it. 

you nuzzle into his shoulder, trying to find some peace in the quiet, as the car pstarts to park in front of the venue. the event is some sort of charity gala and auction, being held in the ballroom of some sort of museum. as you climb out of the car, patrick holding your hand as you climb out, you feel the cold winter air nipping at your skin. but patrick is quick, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in as you walk up to the door and go in. 

the music is boring and loud, and the lights are dim and blue. the chatter is dull and business-oriented around you, and you see your parents walking up to a group of "friends" with fake smiles pressed on their faces as you take patrick's hand, letting him guide you near a corner of the room.

"i hate it here already" you whisper to him, as he looks down at you with a sweet grin. "i know you do, baby," he says, placing his arms around your waist again, resting it there as you stand near the wall and look into the room. 

"god, that suit is ugly," patrick whispers to you, a cocky grin on his face as he motions toward a man is a vibrant purple velvet suit, brown shoes and a matching purple velvet tie. "who dressed him? who let him leave the house like that? they should be ashamed of themselves," patrick says, his voice getting a bit louder as he looks down at you, trying to read your face.

his smile grows wider when he sees you break into a soft smile, giggling under your breath. he himself didn't know too much about fashion, or care too much in general, but he knew the light gossip put you at ease, so he tried to learn from your preferences, memorizing the little fasion rules that you'd set. and, to be fair, even he could tell that the man's suit was fugly. 

you whisper back, "and that lady... she looks like she's pushing 70, wearing a sequin mini-dress to a black-tie charity event. what is she doing?" you say, your grin widening, as patrick squeezes your hip gently, both of you trying hard to stifle your laughter.

patrick bends down to press a kiss to your head, a force of habit of his, rubbing your back as you two look around the room, pointing out and nitpicking random outfits, or hairstyles, or lame song choices from the dj. 

“what's the point of even hiring a dj if he's this shitty?" you whisper up to patrick, your words engulfed in laughter as you try to get them out, "i could play better music for free, just give me an aux cord and a spotify playlist" you giggle, as patrick nods his head, laughing a little too loud for a formal event like this. 

"shhhh... people might look" you say, playfully scolding patrick as he looks down at you fondly. 

of course, the moment had to be interrupted by your parents waving you over to their little group of work friends, as you sigh, pressing a fake smile to your face and nodding as the group looks over at you. "fuck, not this again" you whisper through your teeth at patrick, trying your best to keep your smile from falling into a frustrated grimace. it wasn't that you disliked your parents, or their friends for that matter, but it always felt like the same routine every time. you getting singled out, asked about school, grilled about random future job prospects, as you slowly felt your insides cruble further into an anxiety-fueled despair as you repeat the same lines, over and over, to every other little group that your parents want to "show you off" to. 

but patrick just grabs your hand, squeezing it gently, pressing an easygoing samile onto his face, and nodding at you reassuringly. you're not sure what he means by that, but you know he's going to try and take caare of you like he always does. patrick zweig, always the charmer.

you greet the group, introducing patrick as your boyfriend, seeing his smile turn a little smug as you claim him.

you squeeze his hand as the adults around you start to ask questions, and you answer, trying to turn it into some sort of conversation instead of just an itnerview. and patrick follows along perfectly, using his "zweig charm" (as he calls it) to cover for you, squeezing your hand every so often as he talks you up to your parents friends, raving about the newest classes you're taking, and the advanced concepts you explain to him. he makes sure to give you space to speak whenever you want, always jumping in whenever you get overwhelmed, always able to keep up his social, smug act flawless, even when you get shy.

you finally get to a point where you're able to break off the conversation, smiling and excusing yourself from the circle, letting out a breath as you step away from your performance.

"that wasn't so bad," you say to patrick, hands still intertwined as you pull him to the edge of the room again, taking a breather from the crowd of people conversating about business and whatever, turning around to face in again and just get some time to talk with him. "but i still want to go home," you complain, a joking smile on your face, as the two of you stand at the edge of the room. 

you feel him pull you into his arms, your back pressed against his chest as he snakes his arm around your waist, both of you looking into the room. he towers over you like this, resting his chin on the top of your head as he holds you tightly.

"you're doing great, baby" he affirms, his voice soft and sweet. "the cocktail and dinner time will end soon anyways, so we can be done with small talking with everyone soon. when the auction starts we can just sit down and gossip again," he says in a low voice, giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds you. 

and the night continued like that, patrick holding your hand through it all, jumping into conversations when you got overwhelmed, letting you cling to him around the room. and every time your parents called you over to talk to some other friends, the process felt a little easier, a little lighter, because you had patrick there.

"always the charmer," you whispered at him, teasing, as you walked away from yet another conversation about your future and politics and whatnot, with some of your parents friends you couldn't even remember the names of anymore.

and when you sat at the table, as the speeches and charity auction started, you and patrick sat, whispering to each other quietly andf stifling laughter. 

and this night felt easier than any other event you'd had to go to before. because patrick was there for you, always. and as the night ended, and you walked out, you thought to yourself, "maybe these event's aren't always so torturous after all" 

:)))

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- three.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, drinking, allusions to depression, reader and noah making up yayyyy 🥳🥳

w.c- 2,898

a.n- if you guys couldn't tell by now, this story has kinda turned from being inspired by only halley's comet to being inspired by the entire album! go listen to happier than ever by billie eilish. the album. not the song.

enjoy! <3

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment!

i haven't slept since sunday. midnight for me is three a.m. for you.

three more weeks passed since everything happened. the next day, noah tried to come back. i told him to stay away. forever. i promised him that i would be just fine without him, that i didn't need him to prove to me that he was something he didn't want to be. because i was so convinced he didn't want to be better. he just wanted his photographer back.

i started working at a local coffee shop, the spark in my eyes that was once consistent now gone. i didn't have that kind voice that everyone grew to love. i didn't put any effort into my appearance. i just threw my hair into a ponytail and moved on.

a lot of the time, i was glad i lived alone. i could fall back into old habits without being scolded. like drinking, for example. it was the only way i knew how to handle my feelings. which wasn't working very well.

but you're all it takes for me to break a promise.

i knew the next time i saw his face i would break. i would run back. i would stay. spending years with somebody who you're secretly in love with will do that to a person. so i made it my goal to purposefully ignore him.

every time i would go home, i would scroll mindlessly on my phone. i found out that noah canceled the rest of the tour. mental health reasons, or whatever. i rolled my eyes, turning off my phone and cracking open yet another bottle of liquor, feeling the familiar burn go down my throat that i've grown accustomed to. i walked around my apartment mindlessly, humming some unfamiliar tune to myself.

these past few weeks, music has been my number one savior. aside from alcohol.

NOAH'S POV.

these weeks without her proved to be difficult. having fallen into a depression after alyssa and i broke up, [y/n] leaving only made it worse. i sat in my room, staring at the door. sometimes i would pray that she would walk through. surprise me and say it was all just a cruel prank.

countless bottles of hennessy sat in front of my bed. that was all i had been doing. drinking and working out and writing to ease away the pain.

"but nevertheless, i'm fucking depressed. i hide it with sex, and drink till it's fatal." i murmured to myself, taking another sip from the bottle before letting it clatter to the ground, snatching my pen and paper from my desk.

when i went through things like this, i always liked to write down my thoughts. some of those thoughts ended up in songs. and since we were in the middle of writing a new album, this was perfect.

there was a knock at the door and i grumbled a greeting, my eyes never leaving the paper. a couple seconds later, jolly walked in.

"christ, man, you look like hell."

i hummed, continuing to write as he sat in front of me.

"look, i know you're struggling. because of-"

i knew exactly who he was talking about. i didn't want to hear her name. she hurt me enough. "don't say her name."

jolly sighed. "because of her. but dude, we're worried. you know none of it was your fault, right? she was stupid to do that to you."

i scoffed. "she said it herself, jolly. 'he's richer, hotter, and bigger'" i scowled, repeating her words that she had said to me that night. some part of me regretted walking out of that door. i loved her. for years. and i had grown used to loving her. she was all that i had. she was what made me what i am. she was right, really. i would be nothing without her.

"you're doing it again." he said. at this point, i had stopped writing, staring off into space. "doing what?"

"that thing you do when you get all into your head. blaming yourself for everything. how many times do i have to tell you it's not your fault for you to get it in your head, man?" he said, sternly but gently.

i rolled my eyes. "you're wrong."

"how?"

"because i loved her, jolly. i fucking loved her, and i screwed it all up because i can never do anything right. i'll never be good enough. for myself, or anybody."

i buried my face in my hands, sobs racking my body once more. i never liked to be this vulnerable with anybody, even my closest friends. but honestly? i didn't give a fuck anymore. let them see.

"i know man. i know." he said, rubbing his hand over my back in an attempt to sooth me.

it pained jolly to see me like this. i knew that. but it was better to tell people of my thoughts than to keep it bottled up inside, right?

READERS POV.

i was making that damn song all the way till the early morning. i didn't even realize how late it had gotten until i woke up to my alarm. i had fallen asleep at my desk, my computer still running and everything. i didn't have work today, so that left me plenty of time to do whatever the hell i wanted.

months passed. months without seeing or talking to him. i would occasionally text the others, but i wouldn't dare send him a single text. i caught up a bit with folio and jolly, telling them about my ongoing journey with music. i still pursued photography as a side hustle, but my main focus was getting this song perfect.

it was almost done. almost ready to be released. maybe as an album? no, i can't get too carried away. music isn't for me. but as i listened to the song and made sure everything was right, my feelings began to change.

"i don't want it, and i don't want to want you. but in my dreams, i seem to be more honest. and i must admit, you've been in quite a few."

it wasn't a lie. he had began to show up more often in my dreams. not as nightmares, but as something that we could've been.

"Halley's Comet comes around more than i do. but you're all it takes for me to break a promise. silly me to fall in love with you."

that promise. that stupid promise.

"[y/n], please. let me explain-"

"no, noah! i don't care about your shitty explanations and your shitty behavior and your stupid face! i promise, i'll be just fine without you. leave me alone!"

"i haven't slept since sunday. mdnight for me is 3:00 a.m. for you. but my sleepless nights are better with you than nights could ever be alone, ooh-ooh-ooh. i was good at feeling nothing, now i'm hopeless. what a drag to love you like i do, ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh."

it wasn't entirely a lie. when i imagined him in the bed next to me, it felt like i could sleep better. when i pretended everything was okay, everything felt lighter. the weight on my shoulders seemed to momentarily disappear, only to crash back down when i realized it was all just a fantasy.

"ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh. i've been loved before, but right now in this moment i feel more and more like i was made for you. for you. i'm sitting in my brother's room. haven't slept in a week or two, or two. i think i might have fallen in love. what am i to do?"

as the song ended, i found myself picking up my phone, going to his contact. i laughed softly to myself as i saw the contact. it was still the same. when everything was nice. when i wasn't all alone. i decided to jump the gun, shooting him a text.

i breathed out a sigh of relief. maybe he didn't hate me as much as i thought. i immediately thought back to the time i took it. when things were better. happier.

"come on! put it on!" i laughed, holding out the little plastic tiara to him. we had gone to disney world for a summer vacation, and i won a tiara from one of the game booths.

"i'm not putting that on." he said, his arms folded across his chest.

i pouted, looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes i knew he couldn't resist until he groaned, snatching the tiara from my hands and putting it on his head. despite his previously grumpy demeanor, he still wore a smile when i took the pictures.

i missed that.

the moment i saw him walk through those doors, it was like everything hit me all at once. he looked terrible. i did too, but definitely better in comparison.

"hi." i said softly.

"hi." he said back, sitting down in front of me with his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

i bit my lip as we sat in an awkward silence for a moment before i spoke.

"noah, i-"

"[y/n]-"

i couldn't help but smile softly as we spoke at the same time.

"you first." he said.

i took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself. "i know you've been through a lot, noah. and i should've taken that into consideration when i said all that shit. honestly, i haven't been doing too well myself, if you couldn't tell." i said, gesturing to myself.

"it sounds stupid as fuck, but it feels like theres this void in my chest that's just been so empty since i left. i miss you guys. i miss the band." i said.

he sensed there was something more. "but...?"

"but," i began. "i can't come back as the photographer. after i've recovered somewhat from everything, i realized photography isn't for me. i was to pursue something bigger."

"like?"

"music."

he raised his eyebrows. "you want to become a musician?"

"i know, it sounds absurd and like a child's dream, but i really think-"

"no, [y/n] that's fucking amazing." he said with a small laugh, leaning forward. i smiled slightly. there was that smile i missed.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i mean, i've only heard you sing a handful of times, but you're great. you're gonna make it big, trust me." he said.

my heart warmed at his words. "thank you." i said.

"look, [y/n], i'll be the first to admit how much of a douche i was to you. i've had time to think about it. to get over it and stop wallowing in self-pity. and i'm really sorry. i'm kinda shocked you didn't quit sooner, honestly. but, if you'd like, we could start fresh. you don't have to come back to the band, but we can hang out and shit. maybe i can help you with your music."

his words only made my smile brighten. "yeah, i'd like that. a lot. thank you."

"of course, princess."

after our little friend date, we went to his studio to work on some things. he showed me how different things worked and helped me on writing a song that i had been thinking about.

i bit my lip, jotting down a few lyrics in my notebook as he watched.

i don't really wanna know why you went there. i kinda don't care. you want to kill me? you want to hurt me? stop being flirty. it's kinda working.

i hummed a soft tune to myself as i read the lyrics, trying to figure out what would work right.

did you really think this is the right thing to do? is it news? news to who? that i really looked just like the rest of you.

noah snapped me out of my continuous thoughts, turning back to the computer. "i've been working on stuff, too." he said.

"yeah?"

he hummed in response, pulling up a file full of different songs. "pick one." he said, leaning back.

i bit my lip in thought before clicking on the one titled The Grey.

"evened the scores, then i let it all go fall apart. and every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah. looking sideways when i say i'm okay with the past. but i'm afraid of what i might say if you ask."

i leaned back in my chair as i listened to the lyrics, knowing that this song could be about one of two people. me, or alyssa.

"gave you way too many chances, you ran through them all. got everything i could want but it wasn't enough. nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call. got everything i could want but i still wanted more. yeah, i still wanted more."

the pure emotion in his voice was enough to make my heart break into pieces and clarify who it was about. i knew after what happened with her, he was broken. and this song was only proof.

"there's not another way, don't let me go. don't dig another grave today. i'll make the same mistakes, i'll never know who i was before i faded away into the grey."

the recording stopped, and my eyes darted from the screen to his face. "that's all i have right now." he said. "we have more sessions later this week to finish it."

i gulped. "noah..."

he looked at me and raised a brow. "what?"

"that was fucking beautiful."

i almost felt like i was going to cry. i always loved his voice, but that was on a whole other level. usually he was screaming. he never had those soft vocals like what i just heard.

he smiled softly. "thanks. now get in there."

i blinked, shaking my head. "sorry, what?"

"go on. get in the booth. i want to hear you sing this. we can figure something out."

"noah, i-" "don't argue. go."

i sighed, getting up and heading into the recording booth. maybe it would be okay. i wouldn't fuck it up. i put on the headphones, looking back up at him through the glass. "which one?" i asked.

he hummed, looking through the notebook i had left on the desk.

"what about my future? start it off strong."

i nodded, mentally preparing myself for whatever the hell was about to happen.

"i can't seem to focus, and you don't seem to notice i'm not here. i'm just a mirror. you check your complexion to find your reflection's all alone. i had to go. can't you hear me? i'm not coming home. do you understand? i've changed my plans. cause i, i'm in love with my future. and i, i'm in love. but not with anybody else. just wanna get to know myself."

it really was a beautiful song. and it was me putting all of my feelings on the line. the lyrics didn't have a deeper meaning to them like noah's often did. their meaning was just laid flat out. i changed my plans for the future, and i'm waiting to sort things out with myself before falling in love again.

"i know supposedly i'm lonely now. know i'm supposed to be unhappy without someone. but aren't i someone? i'd like to be your answer. cause you're so handsome. but i know better than to drive you home. cause you'd invite me in, and i'd be yours again."

the lyrics seemed to flow freely as i sang, my eyes closed and hands moving in random directions. i didn't even notice him staring.

"but i, i'm in love. with my future. and you don't know her, mm. and i, i'm in love. but not with anybody here. i'll see you in a couple years."

i opened my eyes and looked at noah, noticing how his mouth was slightly open. i laughed. "don't start drooling."

he shook himself out of his thoughts. "sorry, that was just. really fucking good. you're a natural, princess. i'm jealous." he said.

i rolled my eyes, stepping out of the booth.

"great, now let's work out a tune."

we spent hours and hours fixing up the song, getting carried away in our musical abilities. last time i checked, it was around 2 am. i didn't want to go home, so i suggested we took a little break and watched a movie or something. he nodded and we sat on the couch, turning on the tv (of course he turned on naruto). my head ended up lulling to the side, landing on his shoulder as i slowly fell asleep. the last thing my brain registered before falling into dreamland was the soft kiss on my forehead and his soft words.

"goodnight, princess."

his lips against mine felt like heaven. it felt like my whole life was complete when i kissed him, when i felt him. he felt like home. something i hadn't known in a long time. i pulled away, breathing slightly heavy as i looked into his chocolate brown eyes.

"noah.." i whispered.

he smiled softly and hummed.

"i fucking love you."

"mm.. [y/n]." he mumbled against my lips.

"princess."

"[Y/N]!"

[whosmoraless]

Walking back... well, that's certainly easier. Walking doesn't require having to use every muscle in his battered body and deal with the constant pull of gravity while being battered by high-speed winds all the way across Brooklyn. The mere thought of it makes his stomach churn.

But walking means more time alone, just the two of them. Walking means more awkward silences, more too-complex emotions than either of them can deal with between them, more of that guilt hanging in the air, pervasive as the chill.

Miles swallows harshly, not all that keen on more time alone with Peter. But what choice is there?

"’kay," he hedges. “Let’s get this over with.”

…

The walk home was, as expected, unbelievably awkward in its silence. But by some miracle, nothing happened on the way back - a surprise given New York, but one Miles won’t question.

The lack of strain helped Miles’s concussion, at least. Coming back felt like breaking out of that awful, sluggish, half asleep state between consciousness and a nightmare; with the same disorientation.

Now he’s just… fully aware of how awful he feels. Of how fucking bizarre it is to just be walking across Brooklyn with Peter at butt-fuck in the morning, nothing but an oversized coat hiding Miles’s battered body and his torn suit, both spiders trying to pretend everything is Normal and Fine and failing spectacularly. Miles spent most of the time staring at the sidewalk, or right into the horizon; the way back home etched into his brain from muscle memory and muscle memory alone.

But even then, he steals side-blinks at Peter before quickly looking away whenever Miles senses the man looking in his direction. Like if he stares the wrong way for too long, an explosive will go off.

(Which, given the tension between the two, wouldn’t be an inaccurate comparison.)

…

Soon, the familiar brownstone apartments come back into view, and Miles almost cries from relief just from being home. But then the next reality check hits him - he’s gonna have to find some way to go in with a random middle aged man in tow without looking… weird.

Fire escape it is. Besides, his parents are at work, what’s the worst that could happen?

…

“¿QUIÉN ERES Y QUÉ ESTÁS HACIENDO CON MI HIJO?”

“Mom, please-”

“No. No, no, no, no talking back, no ‘mom please’; you don’t just- just just disappear in the middle of the night and come back like- this, and expect me not to worry,” Río rants, her speech growing faster with each word. Then she points at Peter, who’s rubbing a welt she made on his face by throwing a heat-seeking missile slipper at him. “And you still never answered my question!”

This literally could not have gone worse.

you ever find urself face-down in an alley at like 2am nd you realize, "oh, this might be how i die". every hope and dream ive ever had and everythng ive ever wanted to do and could ever do is all gnna be snuffed. oit right here in some rsndom street on a sunday night while im wearing fuckifjn spandex. and i have school tomrro1w but maybe i wont.

❆ · ( open starter ) · ❆

With a groan, Miles lets his phone fall out of his hand; it somehow being the only thing on him that didn't get broken.

Maybe he's being overdramatic. He doesn't care. Doesn't... really care about much at all, actually. Shock makes you do crazy shit-- like make a vaguely concerning Tumblr post after a bungled patrol then immediately shut his phone off rather than call for help.

Not like he could feasibly do the latter anyways. Last thing he wants is for Spider-man to have a medical record, much less at his mom's hospital. Would the bite have messed with his body enough that he couldn't go through normal medical procedures?

... besides, if Spider-man has to call for help, that doesn't make him much of a protector, huh?

What kind of a protector, a good one at that, gets his ass beaten within an inch of his life on what was supposed to a normal, routine patrol? Crawls away to a random back alley to lick his wounds alone? If anyone saw him like this, he'd never live it down-- assuming he were still alive to see the headline anyways.

Fluffy snowflakes start falling, ever so daintily landing on Miles's overheated body, on his eyelashes. (huh. When did his mask lenses get shattered?) They contrast with the night sky like stars. The city noises turn into a hazy blur, like it's all a million miles away. The cars, a dog barking, the faint background buzz of electrical wires.

Not a bad place to die, Miles thinks with startling calmness.

He didn't expect what he believes is the end of his life to be so.... calm. Atmospheric, almost. Not like he's complaining though; too out of it to be worried. His eyelids grow heavier and heavier. His thoughts slow to what feels like sludge.

He doesn't register the crunch of shoes on pavement approaching him.

[rheitais]

DP X DC One shooting star later. Pt 2.

This might be my new brain rot. Thanks to @scho17 for the after math I was giggling reading about the joker being stunned, Dick growing gray and B having a mild conundrum.

I feel like Joker was getting ready to stream this to gotham but was stunned before he could start. The reason the bats are there is because they were already tracking the Nightingales for a completely different reason. For example, Maddie, Jazz and Ellie are having a girl's night with Selina, Harley and Ivy. (See 1.5 for interactions) Dante and Danny somehow end up in the middle of one or another rouges plan one way or another, always together. Jazz literally wants to be a therapist in Gotham. Jack and Maddie are terribly good at their engineering jobs.

Bruce firmly believes Jack is a meta or non-human of some kind and asks Clark to come to a gala to prove a point. After Clark interacts with Jack and sees Bruce cause for concern but after x-raying the man, Clark tells Bruce he looks completely human inside. Bruce tasks Damian to befriend Ellie since they were both in the same grade and some of the same classes. Little did Bruce know that would contribute to the greatest youngest sibling alliance.

Of course not being from this universe, Tim and Babs figure that the Nightingales essentially never existed and even the city they are from doesn't exist. Well not in the state they claim to be from. So Tim prioritizes getting close with the twins since they are close in age to get some answers or at least get them to slip up.

Though anytime they as bats approach them, the Nightingales scatter. Avoid contact and avoid talking to them completely. If they catch Ellie alone in a park or on the sidewalk she will start running, running until she is either back in safe haven called home or near one of her older siblings. If they catch the twins, the older one will either yank the other behind him before telling him to "book it" and cover his twin escape or the younger one will throw a weird stick and hit the bat square on the head before retrieving it and running off. If they catch up to Jazz, she would walk up with a smile before pulling out a gun and vaguely stating "Yeah you have the suit but I can see your face and at the bare minimum I know I don't need to worry about you being human or cryptic, I've had a very long midterm from hell so if you would excuse me I have better things to be doing" before walking away. As for the parents, Jack rarely goes out enough to be caught. As for Maddie, gave both Nightwing and Red Robin good kicks to the ribs.

[judeable-brainrot]

trans!artrick both starting the academy and they don’t know about eo but start suspecting they may have more in common than just tennis. and art is dying to know so he asks in what he thinks is a suddenly way and is turns into a very beautiful friendship (turned relationship)

sighhhh my boys <3

they meet during move in and just something about one another draws them in. maybe it's Art's slightly too soft baby face or Patrick's too curved calves, but these almost missable factors seem to draw an investigation from one to the other.

out of the two of them, Art is the most curious and nosy, like a small puppy. being an only child for his whole life, he can't help but want to know more about his new roommate than he was actually telling him himself. so, when Patrick has a late practice one evening, he decides to snoop. he tries the usual places, dresser drawers, in the back of his closet, but the place he does end up finding something, is his bathroom cabinet. a small pouch, inside containing vials and syringes, similar to his own. also marked, testosterone.

the blond waits quietly on his bed, pretending to study while he nervous anticipates Patrick's arrival. he has to ask. so when the brunette finally comes heaving through the door, the conversation is barely there before Art is blurting out, "are you trans?" Patrick stills in the middle of setting his tennis bag away, back to the other boy. he says nothing. Art continues on his ramble. "i-i just saw your bag in the bathroom and it looked like mine so it isn't a bad thing or me being an ass i just—"

"like yours?" Patrick repeats softly, turning to him, eyes vulnerable. Art nods. "like mine.." that evening, they discuss it, their other shared commonality. they talk transitions, coming outs, surgeries, goals—even sexualities. all is back to the peace they one had, even ranging into deep comfort now that they had found a safe haven with one another.

but as boys often do, their minds start to turn elsewhere after a few months and they can't help but be curious of other things. it drives them to a drunken night of kissing sloppily in some frat house bathroom, Patrick groping at Art's ass while Art moans against his mouth. they go on like that for some time, leaving the house with flushed cheeks and mused hair, the walk back quiet and stumbly. they flop into their beds, ready to pass out when Art breaches the silence. "Pat..?" "hmm?" "what...what are we..?"

Patrick is quiet for a few moments, nearly leaving Art to think he's fallen back to sleep until he speaks. "i..what wold you like to be..?" Art swallows, rolling on his side in the dark to face him. "i..i'd like to be boyfriends, i think. if you'd want that too." he hears the bed creak and sees Patrick's figure roll over to face him. "i want that..a lot." Art can't help the small smile that rolls across his face in the darkness, barely registering as Patrick's larger body crawls into bed with him, pulling the smaller boy into his arms. he kisses his head. "my boyfriend.."