#he just stood there cracking up about how he scared me for like 5 minutes while I just stood there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kishibe-kisser · 10 months

Text

Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader (nsfw)

You play a game of hide & seek with Toji and only God can save you if you get caught

Tags: fear kink, manhandling kink, oral (fem receiving), spitting, rough sex, crying

The closet felt so stuffy, dust particles sparkling in the cracks of light seeping into the closet's opening. While clasping a hand over your mouth, you made a mental note to clean the closet when all of this was over.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you tried to calm your breathing, listening intently for the heavy footsteps that would be approaching surely any second. You may have made the bet that Toji wouldn't be able to find you, but you knew deep in the back of your mind that he was more than capable of doing so. That was partially why you proposed it even though you were terrified now... of what he'd do when he found you. 5 minutes had passed and you found yourself getting comfortable, which you knew was a bad move.

He got off on this, knowing you were scared of him, knowing you were somewhere in the house with your heart pounding and cunt throbbing. Toji knew exactly where you were, but there was no fun in storming the second your head start was up. He wanted you to feel at ease for a moment before he ripped it all away. He even wandered over to the fridge and poured himself a drink, sighing heavily as he savoured the last drop.

You loved pushing his buttons, that was clear. Suggesting a silly game like this, questioning what he was capable of? Amusing to say the least. Looking at the clock on the wall, 10 minutes had passed and Toji decided to put an end to this.

It felt like so much time had passed and you were beginning to wonder if he was looking for you at all. Still sitting on the floor of the closet with your hand over your mouth, you had to hold back a small scream when a shadow blocked the few rays of light. You hadn't even heard his footsteps, not once. Toji pulled the closet door open and sunk to his knees, getting to your level.

He looked deranged, disheveled hair and eyes dark, his compression shirt doing nothing to hide the way his chest was heaving. A strong hand wrapped around your bare ankle, pulling you across the ground and out of the closet. A shriek left your lips and he ran his tongue over his own, making you instinctively want to shut your thighs for some friction.

"Never-" He started, the hand on your ankle lifting your leg and placing it over his shoulder. Mimicking the action with your other leg, he raised your hips in the air so his face was eye level with your panty covered cunt and your dress bunched up at your hips. "Underestimate me." He finished, ripping the fabric to the side as he crouched on his knees and gripped at your hips.

He loved seeing just how soaked you were, cunt drooling at the fear you felt while waiting for him. You could feel his breath fanning over your folds and you tried bucking your hips, not being able to even wiggle under his strong arms.

"Toji." You whined, your nails scratching at the wooden floor in anticipation. This was such a sight to him, not being able to stop the damn near evil smirk pulling over his scarred lips. He warned you about what would happen if he found you.

His lips attached himself to your cunt, tongue swirling over your folds. His nails dug into your hips, keeping them raised in the air as you cried out. You felt helpless, terrified, and the most turned on you had ever been. You loved it when he manhandled you, made sure you had no way of escaping his grip.

You almost came instantly as he pulled away from your cunt, lips and chin glistening as he smirked. While you were dripping wet, you weren't wet enough to him for what he had in store. Spitting on your cunt, the rough pads of his fingers swirled it around before pulling away from you fully. He allowed your legs to drop and wrap around his waist. Before you could even raise an eyebrow at him or whine for your loss of orgasm, he stood up and lifted you with him.

You hadn't noticed that he pulled his sweatpants down just under his cock, until you felt it prodding at your entrance. Your eyes locked with Toji's, a small wave of fear travelling through your body and making you walls clench. He looked even more feral than before, now that your forehead was pressing against his. All of your body weight resting in his arms as he sunk into you.

The stretch made you scream out, nails biting into his large clothed shoulders. This was alot for the minimal amount of prep that you had, tears pooling in your eyes. Everything about Toji was large, his cock was no exception and the sting it left behind was something you could never get used to.

He moved you up and down his cock, using you like a toy to get himself off and that made you squeeze him even tighter. A tear slipped down your cheek as your stomach tightened, getting closer to cumming with each slam of his hips. "You didn't stand a chance." He grumbled, enjoying the sight of the tear. "I knew where you were the second we entered the house." Your heart dropped at his words as your cunt cried for him, cumming so hard your legs shook around his waist.

"God, you look so pretty when you're scared."

This was the punishment for losing the game and you couldn't see it ending any time soon.

A/N: One hell of a post to ring in the new blog. But this thought was absolutely plaguing my mind and it just fits Toji so well. I was reading a dark romance book and something similar to this happened and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.

#toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen reaction #toji fushiguro x reader

300 notes · View notes

foreverinadais · 1 year

Text

ex: m.s

summary: you see your ex in the grocery store.

warnings: angst (with a sad ending) only slight fluff, awkwardness

pairings: predominantly marc x reader but jake and steven are mentioned

word count: 2.7k :)

ex! mk series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

It was Marc.

You could tell immediately by the slight quip in his eyebrow and the downturn of his mouth. He hated shopping, especially for groceries. You wondered how he drew the short straw. Perhaps the other two had forced him because they’d done it enough. Or maybe he liked it now.

The thought of not quite knowing who he was anymore made your stomach churn in a way it hadn’t for months. He wasn’t your Marc anymore. The one who also seemed stoic. The one who always cracked unexpected jokes. The one who you shared every moment with. The one who hated grocery shopping.

You suddenly felt overwhelmed. Because there he was. So close yet so far.

You certainly hadn’t expected this when you left your flat this morning. It had been 4 months. 4 months of failed dates, 4 months of crappy rom coms, 4 months of Spotify’s best ‘break-up mixes’. You had only just felt the strength to say you were moving on, though how can anyone really move on from the loves of their life?

You hadn’t heard from him for those months. Steven had called you once at 2 am but no sooner than he had, you got a ‘sorry, accident’ message. You swore you’d seen Jake’s cab loitering in the midst of a busy street once but convinced yourself it was your brain playing tricks on you.

Because they had moved on, too. You’d heard about Steven’s big promotion at work. You almost sent him a congratulations message, overcome with forgotten happiness at your boyfr- ex- boyfriend’s success but stopped yourself. He isn’t yours to congratulate anymore.

Marc was the only one who was radio silent. You didn’t know anything about him now. But he was wearing the same jacket. The one you once stole off his back and wore all night on a memorable but blurry night in a London pub. Perhaps he wasn’t much different. The thought scared you even more.

Maybe he didn’t need to move on because he didn’t need you. Not then, not now.

You jumped when your mind came back to the present and those eyes were boring into yours. You had almost forgotten that he could also see you, that you weren’t looking through binoculars to peek into his life, that he was here, now.

He wasn’t smiling. That didn’t surprise you. It was rare he’d smile in public, let alone doing something he hated. And though it wasn’t rare that he’d show you his smile, after everything, he certainly wouldn’t now.

Should you say hi? Ask how he is? How they all are?

You were stuck. Stuck staring at your past who you once thought was your future.

How can you condense that feeling into words? You couldn’t. You were left with actions as you offered a small smile, going as far as a wave. Marc’s tough demeanour didn’t falter as he eventually gave a single nod of acknowledgment. Your stomach flipped, heart beating undoubtedly faster.

Though it had felt like an eternity had passed, it had really been less than a minute. There was a bustle of people around you, surrounding the bubble you’d created in your mind, and time was moving on, just like it had been for all these months.

“Excuse me,” You apologised to the lady who was trying to move by you, stepping into the space in front of you to allow her access in the aisle. You quickly realised you were closer to Marc, so close it almost made you jump when you looked back up to see him still stood there, zoned out, no doubt in deep conversation with his alters and you other ex’s. You could imagine the commotion; Steven panicking, Jake acting nonchalant. But Marc… Marc was near impossible to read, always had been.

You’d like to think you had mastered it. But now, staring at him, it was as if he was a stranger. A stranger with memories.

“Hey.” The voice surprised you. Yes, this was the first time hearing it after radio silence but… you certainly didn’t anticipate him speaking first, if at all. You cleared your throat, once, twice, fearful words would fail.

But they didn’t as you got out a small, “hi.” A small silence followed, both trying to look for words to say, anything that would be appropriate in a situation like this. “So, do you come here often?” You hadn’t meant to sound quite so awkward, and you quickly tried to add something to make it seem less so. “I mean like you, I figured Steven would do the food shopping more. I mean, no offence or anything.”

Marc said nothing as you rambled, just rose an eyebrow like he always did when slightly bemused. “Was my turn. Your right, though, this isn’t my usual scene.”

“Yeah, I remember.” The simple phrase felt heavy, a reminder of the love you once had together. And just like that, it all came flooding back; every touch, every kiss, every movie you’d watched together or walk you’d been on. But so did every argument, every cold shoulder, every reason you’d broken up in the first place.

You remembered all too well the sound of the door slamming, the heat of the room after an argument, the flat feeling huge whilst you felt tiny, alone. But you also remembered the feeling of his soft kisses up your arm, the glide of his huge hands along your skin, the husky tone of his voice whispering apologies as your back hit the mattress.

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. As if your heart had remembered it’s purpose, had woken up again.

Marc coughed slightly as if to break you from your train of thought. You startled, rubbing the spot on the side of your face to regain a sense of reality. “Anyway…” You began, looking everywhere but at him, “How’s everything?” He knew what you meant by that. How were the others who had a piece of you?

Marc hesitated. You knew why, could almost see the inner conversation they were surely having. You could only imagine what Steven was saying, the worry and desperation in his voice. Or Jake. You wondered if he was still angry. And not just at you.

Marc seemed to break away, remerging into the conversation with a simple, “Good.” When he realised you expected more, he continued, “Steven, he got promoted. Hasn’t stopped talking about it.” You wondered if the last sentence was directed to his alter, and you couldn’t help but smile.

That’s incredible, I knew he would, I’m so proud of him, is what you wanted to say, but you settled with, “That’s great news.” Marc nodded, and you knew he felt the same. “And Jake?” Another moment of silence followed, shorter this time, as he replied,

“He’s alive. Picked up some shifts in a bar now he has more time off.” They felt so far from you. The growing absence you felt in your chest as you realised they had been living their lives just as you had, without each other.

“That sounds right up his alley,” You cringed at your words. You felt like an acquaintance or a colleague, like you should ask about the weather or ask what aisle the shampoo was down.

“Yeah.” You looked at him. Not just a glance, but a real look. At his curls. At the scar just above his eyebrow. At his lips.

“And you?” And he looked back. Shrugged slightly after a moment of hesitation, as if he had not anticipated you asking about him. As if he never expected to hear those words again.

“I’m surviving.” You waited a minute. But he said nothing more.

Your chest suddenly felt heavy. As if your heart had remembered it’s purpose, had woken up again.

“That sounds right up his alley,” You cringed at your words. You felt like an acquaintance or a colleague, like you should ask about the weather or ask what aisle the shampoo was down.

“Yeah.” You looked at him. Not just a glance, but a real look. At his curls. At the scar just above his eyebrow. At his lips.

“And you?” And he looked back. Shrugged slightly after a moment of hesitation, as if he had not anticipated you asking about him. As if he never expected to hear those words again.

“I’m surviving.” You waited a minute. But he said nothing more. You muttered a small ‘good’, though you didn’t mean it. You almost wanted something worse. Something that showed he was struggling as much as you were. “How’s everything for you?”

Sometimes you wake up in cold sweats and reach out for them. Sometimes, when you’ve had a bit too much to drink, your thumb hovers over their contact purely by muscle memory. Sometimes, when your feeling particularly desperate, you call out to Konshu, as if he could turn back the time to when you were happy, to when were with them and the other side of your bed wasn’t empty and cold.

“ ‘m surviving, too.” He nodded as if he believed you and you were worried he did.

The silence that followed felt like an eternity. You wanted to leave but you knew that if you did, you might never see him again. What if this moment was your forever? Stuck in aisle 5, avoiding eye contact, rocking slightly on your feet? The thought terrified you. To avoid the thoughts, and the next minute that approached, you began to ask another meaningless question. Marc obviously had the same idea, both of you saying a word, then retracting it.

“You go,” You said, heart skipping a beat.

“No, no, you first.”

“It’s fine-”

“Hey, I insist.” His tone always made your stomach flutter.

“Was nothing important, just… wondered what you were buying.” You wondered if he wanted it to be something more by the way his face slightly dropped.

“Right. Steven wanted to start baking, so had to get some of that shit. And we’re out of… well, everything, so had to get that too.” You smiled, eyebrows rising as you repeated,

“Baking?”

“God don’t ask. He’s been tryin’ new stuff lately. I bet he’ll drop this by next week and move onto the next thing.” You chuckled, and so did he.

“At least you get something out of his hobby.”

“Yeah, probably homeless. You remember when he insisted on making banana bread and nearly burnt the whole fuckin’ flat down?”

“How could I ever forget?” The laugh you shared felt familiar, but distant, like a dream. You relished in it for a moment, a happiness you didn’t expect to ever feel again. When it died down, you were left with a new, comfortable silence, one that lingered as you met eyes once again. “So, what were you going to say?”

Marc shrugged, “Was gonna ask how the project was goin’.” Your heart warmed. You remembered, you wanted to say, you remembered what I was working on. You felt your lips pull into a natural smile, felt your eyes widen slightly.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s good, nearly done now, just adding the finishing touches. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be done with it, but looks like there’s an end in sight now which is, yeah, a relief.” You rambled, distracting from the soft look on his face by taking an interest in the label of a jar.

“Well, you’ve worked so hard on it, can’t imagine it’ll be anythin’ less than perfect when you’re done.”

“Thank you, Marc.” His name. You hadn’t said it aloud, you realised, in a long time. It felt so natural coming from your lips, as if the word was made just for you. By the look on Marc’s face, he was just as struck by this revelation.

It belongs to you, he wanted to say, I belong to you.

But he didn’t. No, he couldn’t. Not anymore. Not ever again.

He needed to leave. “Anyway… I should really get going,” he started, and your face fell slightly. His heart throbbed.

“Right! Yeah, no, so should I. It was-” what do you even say? “It was nice seeing you.”

“Back at you.” You felt a sting at the sudden shift in tone, the blatant end to the conversation, a stop to whatever memories were re-emerging.

Will I see you again? You have my number, you could call me, you know. Could get some coffee? Oat milk, of course. I miss you. I miss all of you. I don’t wanna be like this. I hate not knowing you. I hate being a stranger to you. Can we see each other again? Please?

Is what you wanted, needed, to say. But instead, you settled on, “Goodbye, Marc.”

Don’t leave. I’m sorry about what happened, we all are- fuck what if this is it? Can’t lose you, not again. Please.

“Goodbye.”

And then, you were turning. Trying to recount the next item on your list. Trying to forget them all over again. Marc watched, ignoring what his alters were saying. Right, flour, sugar…

You couldn’t help but turn back before you reached the till. His features had returned to their usual state, the usual stance that showed you the Marc the world got too see. And now, you were them. You were the stranger, watching him like the next person would, remembering every moment, the good and the bad, simultaneously, eternally.

He must have felt your gaze again, for he turned. You smiled. He smiled back. You stayed. Endorsed in each other for what felt like the last time. Analysing every crevice of his face with your eyes, and he seemed to be doing the same back.

And then you were pulled back into reality by the person at the till handing you your receipt. You jolted, thanking them quickly, and gathering your bags.

Marc was still watching as you made your way to the door. You stole a final glance, trying to remember everything surrounding you; the sound of the bell, the click of the till, aisle 5, the lady trying to bribe her kid with sweets to get them to stop crying. You wanted to remember it all just in case this was it. This was all you had left of him. This moment.

A last smile. It felt finite.

You took a mental picture of his face before you turned away, heart as heavy as the bags in your hand.

And then you were leaving.

so i got a request agessss ago for a break-up fic with marc which ends in angst and, whilst i haven’t written it yet still (super sorry) , maybe that could be a little prequel to this? we’ll see :)

#marc spector #marc spector fanfic #marc spector x reader #marc spector fluff #marc spector angst #steven grant x reader #steven grant fanfiction #Steven Grant #jake lockley #jake lockley fanfiction #jake lockely x reader #moon knight angst #steven grant angst #jake lockley angst

719 notes · View notes

lemontines-writing-corner · 1 year

Text

wally darling x reader modern au series

PART 1

authors note: wally darling belongs to @/partycoffin, please support their work !

>BACK

>NEXT

🌀 Salutations Neighbor pt. 1 🌀

A loud soft thump can make a cat go alert once they’re awake. Except for you, too busy asleep without a care in the world, assuming you were the only person in your apartment.

The blue pompadour puppet sat up and dusted himself, as he looked around your living room. “Such dull colors. Less brighter than my world.”, he stood up and tried to regain balance. Ever since he practiced how to use the spiral from his TV, he managed to create his own website to connect with million other people.

He’s seen many faces, but most of them click off once they leave the guest book. Quiet sad for the puppet, he wanted to make new friends, ever since the show was forgotten it isn’t the same without people watching him and his friends.

Once he was able to regain balance and walk properly, he explored your kitchen. Unfortunately Wally wasn’t able to get up from the countertop to look through your cabinets so he decided to go to the mini dining room table to get up from the chair .

There he saw a bowl of fruit. Not just fruits, apples of course. Let’s just say his eyes dilated like a cat as he stared at the fruit bowl for the past 5 minutes.

“Oh right! I’m supposed to find neighbor.”, Wally said to himself in a monotone normal voice as he shakes his head and went to the hallway to see a door cracked open. He walked inside to see your sleeping figure, you looked like a worm when you wrapped yourself in a blanket. All comfortable and in a deep sleep, although Wally had other plans of course.

He got up to your bed and poked your nose as he stared at you like a cat, “neiiighbor…neighhhbor. Wake up”, you turned away from the poking thinking it was the air.

What caused you to wake up was when he decided to sit down on your chest area and legs straddled on your sides as he did his dilated eye stare, he smiled at you, happy that you’re awake.

However your reaction said otherwise as you lets out a scream and sat up out of fear, which caused the poor puppet to flung out across the bed, having a rough landing on the floor. Luckily he can’t feel that at all, as he laid there limp and confused, but more worried. “Neighbor? Are you alright?”, he stood up and went to the left side of your bed.

“STAY AWAY!”, you shouted and backed up, confused and more over scared that a puppet…a puppet is talking to you. Wally felt hurt and tried to calm the situation down, “neighbor, that’s not very nice”, he tilted his head in confusion, as he did his iconic half lidded expression as he frowned.

You rubbed your face and blinked at least three times, “…please tell me I’m not dreaming….”, you muttered as you put your face against your pillow. First a busy day at work, sleeping peacefully, now another chaotic situation.

“Well neighbor, clearly you aren’t”, he poked your hand, his hand felt fuzzy and plush like. He can’t harm you? Right? You should feel scared or at least burn him with gasoline and matches, but all you felt was questions running from your head.

“Why are you here? How did you get here? Are you going to harm me? Are you the only living puppet here?”, you overwhelmed Wally with so many questions as his eyes widened, “calm down neighbor, I know you must feel overwhelmed. How about we start with introducing each-other?”, Wally smiled and his half lidded eyes went back as he tilted his head.

“I am genuinely excited to meet you, I’ve always had a interest in you humans”, he sat next to you and stared at you. Silence was in the air and you started to think to yourself, “should I trust this puppet?”.

So sorry for the short chapter ! Part two will come out soon. As a thank you for reaching till the end take another concept art of you and Wally !

#welcome home puppet show #fanfiction #welcome home arg #welcome home fandom #wally darling #julie welcome home #barnaby welcome home #wally darling fanfic #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x reader fluff #fluff fanfiction #fluff #fluff fanfic #wally darling x you #wally darling x reader #welcome home fic

237 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 2 years

Text

Domestic AF

A/N please enjoy this domestic Rooster drabble brought on by a conversation with @marvelsvalhalla who is 100% the Maverick to my Goose

Warnings: Fluff. Partial nudity. Language. Allusions to smut. Minors DNI 18+

The morning light slowly began to peak through your curtains. You stretched your body and wiggled your toes. You turned and tossed an arm out searching for the man that should be occupying the other side of your bed. Feeling nothing but cold sheets you sit up and look for your boyfriend. The shower was off and his clothes were in a neat pile on the dresser. Where could he be?

You went to the closet and threw on one of yours... his t-shirts and pair of biker shorts. "Babe" you called walking down the stairs. You turned the corner to the kitchen and froze in the doorway.

There stood Rooster Bradshaw cooking breakfast in your kitchen. He had his AirPods in listening to who knows what and he flitted about.

You rested in the doorway and gaped at the sight because besides his AirPods the only thing he was wearing was your pink "Kiss the Cook" apron. He was turned facing the stove so his perfectly sculpted ass was on full display for you. You giggled as you watched his hips sway to the song he was listening too which causes the rooster tattooed on his right cheek to move to the beat. You teased him so hard for that tattoo the first time you saw it. His face was as red as a beet when he explained how drunk he was when he got it and how he would never drink tequila again because of it.

You were too busy enjoying the view you didn't realize you hadn't made your presence known until you heard a pan clatter onto the counter snapping you out of your trance. "Jesus babe. You scared the shit out of me." Rooster said taking off some oven mits and putting his AirPods away. "How long have you been standing there?" He asks. You pause taking in the picture before you. Rooster in a pink frilly apron, hands on his hips with a breakfast spread laid out before him you couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled out.

"You mind telling me what the fuck is so funny?" He stated cocking his head to the side. "You... this... its just...." You were wheezing now clutching your sides trying to regain your composure. "I'm what?" Rooster asked getting flustered. He came around the kitchen island and helped you stand upright.

"Bradley," you began whiping a tear from your eye. "You just look so Domestic AF right now! I mean the breakfast, the apron... its just too much." You started laughing again. Rooster rolled his eyes and looked down at you.

"And why aren't you wearing clothes? What if someone broke in? Are you just going to fight them naked?" You giggled again gesturing to his interesting attire choice. He walked away from you having enough of your shit.

"Roos, you can't be mad at me!" You whined. "I mean after last night's activities and how er... erm primal you were I really didn't expect to see you down here making breakfast. Though I have to admit the view is fantastic." You shot him a wink

"Listen if you are going to keep talking about my ass-ets there will be no French Toast for you young lady!" He called while half threatening you with a spatula. Rooster put his AirPods back in, stuck his tounge out at you and began cracking some eggs in a pan.

Another fit of giggles erupted from your mouth only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. You went to answer it and found some of your best friends standing in the doorway. Hangman, Bob, Phoenix, Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote waited for you to invite them in.

"Why are you at my house?" You asked "It's Squad Breakfast Saturday and your turn to host... you didn't forget did you?" Bob asked while shifting a box of pastries in his had. "No!" You screeched out "Of course I didn't forget" you had totally forgotten. "Um hold on just wait here for like 5 minutes so I can go change" you said franticly trying to close the door. "Jesus Y/N we have all seen each other in way less Hangman said pushing past you and entering your foyer. "I'm going to go put this juice in the fridge" Jake said walking past you "Jake wait!" You cried but it was too late

"Ahh my eyes!" You heard Hangman yell as he ran out of the kitchen. "Seresin what the Fuck!" You heard Bradley yell. "You could have warned me that Bradshaw was naked in your Kitchen Y/N! Now I need to go boil my face to get that image out of my head!" Jake complained. "I tried to get you to wait out side but no!" You shot back. "Now can everyone wait on the porch so no one else sees my boyfriend naked please?" You asked ushering everyone back outside.

Fifteen minutes and a whole lot of bitching from Jake later everyone was seated having a nice breakfast. Rooster was sending jabs at Hangman by constantly wagging his eyebrows and asking Jake if he liked what he saw. Jake was still so red he couldn't come up with a comeback. As everyone was finishing up Hangman finally thought of one.

"Hey Bradshaw... mind telling us the story behind the chicken tattooed on your ass?" Jake laughed out.

"First off... it is a ROOSTER not a chicken." Bradley corrected "And second off I was drunk off my ass on tequila in Mexico and got it on a dare." Rooster finished.

"Can we see it?" Bob asked without missing a beat "Sure thing Bobby Boy" Rooster replied getting up. He was just about to show what his momma and tequila gave him when you promptly stood up.

"No... no one else gets to see my boyfriends ass besides me!" You stated covering him up. That earned a laugh from the group as you went to sit back down next to Rooster. He pulled you close and whispered in your ear. "Maybe I should tell them about you hidden tattoo." You choked on your orange juice and shot him a look. He winked at you and then went back to talking with your friends.

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #rooster top gun #bradley bradshaw

333 notes · View notes

artbykays · 1 year

Text

I LIED ABOUT DOING SWEETHEART ANGST

Okay so,

At the next pack meeting, everyone is lively. Darlin pulls up on their bike and as they get off, Angel runs over to show off the ring and says “I’m gonna be a Shaw!”

Darlin is confused until they see the ring once they take their helmet off. They look up and see people congratulating David then nods at Angel. “You always had been.” And they walk past Angel to set their helmet down as they over hear Milo talking with Ash, Babe and Sweetheart.

“Yeah. We got the last box unpacked. So we officially have moved in.” Milo holds the stealth close to him with a big smile.

A pang in their chest returns. Yeah they are happy that their pack mates are at these peaks in their lives. They are at ease. But Darlin can’t help but feel a little sad. The feeling of not accomplishing something great like that. They weren’t getting married. They weren’t moving in with Sam to a shared place.

That feeling of being singled out returned. They finally saw how much they missed while they were away. Sure it wasn’t long, but their whole life in the pack was very distanced. And now they payed the price of not finding out about things till the last minute.

Grabbing their helmet, they quickly ran out. The air felt thick. The space felt like it was collapsing in. Darlin hopped on their bike not hearing their Alpha yell out their name to come back, that the meeting started in 5 minutes. They didn’t hear anything except their heart beating what felt like it was running for miles.

They drove off. Not sure where to but just somewhere far. Maybe outside Daliah. They knew a spot. A spot where they yelled their lungs out. A place where no one could hear a lone wolf cry.

But the fates had other plans. As they turned the corner, they turned a little too hard and slid across the road. Landing themselves in a small ditch. Darlin ripped their helmet off and just stared at the sky. It was a clear night. So clear you could see the stars that looked like someone shattered diamonds in the sky.

A laugh. A laugh formed out of their chest. What was so funny? That the speedster werewolf had crashed their bike? The impulsive wolf who hid their feelings just laid out in dirt and leaves? No. It was the fact they let their feelings get the best of them and they could hear their mate as if he was laying right next to them.

“You think you haven’t accomplished anything? You stood up to someone you loved who hurt you. You protected your friends from him. You allowed me into your life when you thought no one could. You returned back to the pack head on.”

“Shut up Sam.” They chuckles and sighed. They knew him so well that they knew he’d be right. Darlin groaned reaching for the phone that kept buzzing in their pocket. Damn it had a crack in the screen… they scrolled for the contact that said David. If they faced him once, they could face him again. He did say if they ever needed help, he’d be there…the pack would be there…

“What the hell? You show up then dip? We talked about this-”

“David…I need help.” Darlin mumbled. “I may have crashed my bike.”

“Are you okay? Where are you-”

“I’m at the border. But can I tell you something?”

“Tank, you’re scaring me.”

“Just listen. I…I cant say in face to face. Im just…I’m happy for you. A-and tell Milo I’m happy for him too.”

“…you dying or what?”

Tank laughed. It felt, nice. “Not yet.”

HAPPY HOLIDAYS Y’ALL😘😘

#redacted asmr #redacted asmr darlin #redacted david #redacted asmr david #redacted audio #redacted david shaw #David shaw #redacted asmr tank #redacted tank #redacted asmr angel #redacted angel #redacted asmr milo #Milo greer #redacted milo

78 notes · View notes

dratoba · 1 year

Text

"Kings Tide"

He ran towards the older, almost lifeless, cold man. He got on his knees and shook him hard. "Darius?! Darius! Wake up!" The man could hear him. Feel him shaking him. But he couldn't move or speak. He could hear how scared and worried the young boy sounded. Hunter took off his glove and checked his pulse. Barely a pulse. He took his hand into his. (This sounds like a relationship thing it truly isn't. It's a son father thing) "You can't die..not yet" His voice cracked.

With the pain of slowly having the life sucked out of you and being afraid of losing the last person who actually cared for him (or so he thinks) he was doing really very well not crying. "Hunter? Oh there you are! C'mon we have to go get Luz!-oh" Amity stood behind him. Hunter looked up at her "Um. Go get everyone else i'll be there in 5 minutes" She hesitantly put his hand on his shoulder and nodded.

(Yes they're friends in my fanfics they made up after a few weeks cry about it) Amity walked away and Hunter put his head down. If you didn't know Hunter put his head down as a form of respect. He was showing his respect for the man in front of him. "I'm sorry I let this happen.." He quietly whispered. "I was stupid and believed some lie. I hope one day you'll forgive me" With that he got up and walked away.

about 20 minutes later the spell stopped. Darius went unconscious after Hunter left so he had idea what had happened or if he came back. 5 minutes after the spell stopped Darius regained consciousness. Raine was the one that woke him up. At first he couldn't remember anything. Then it all came back. "Raine?..hunter..Hunter?! Where's Hunter?" They looked at him with a sad look. Without saying anything they pointed to the destroyed castle.

(K so you may be wondering "How did they know??" The plan was to go to the castle to kill Belos.) "no...you don't think.." Raine didn't respond. They just looked away. "...look you..tried to keep him safe." "Obviously not hard enough" "I might be wrong! Maybe they didn't do what we said and went into hiding" Darius was barely listening to Raine. He couldn't help but think about how Hunter might had died thinking it was his fault and that Darius didn't forgive him.

Hopefully Hunter is fine. Hopefully Hunter is hiding. Hopefully.

#the owl house #toh #toh hunter #sad boy #another day another slay #dadrius #dana terrace #trauma

19 notes · View notes

dahliawolfe · 2 years

Text

Destined

Teen Wolf Fic. Not cannon. Will be multiple parts

Big turquoise eyes looked up at Talia. The hand in hers was small and delicate. “Asha, it’s alright, Honey. Don’t be scared,” the luna soothed. The little girl nodded, forcing a smile through her snaggle teeth. The autumn leaves crunched under their feet as they made their way up the front porch steps. The sound of running feet and ruckus surrounded the two. Talia had known Marina Finley for many years. When Asha was born 6 years before, they’d all been startled to find that she was soul bonded to Talia’s own son, Derek, who was two at the time. It had been a secret, long kept between Talia and Marina. They had wanted to wait for the right time, but there was a storm brewing over Beacon Hills, and Asha may be the only way to stop it. And Derek was her anchor, her strength. She just didn’t know it yet. Marina died protecting Asha, and now Talia would raise the child. Teach her all she could, though she wasn’t gifted in magic herself.

Talia pushed open the heavy oak door and took a deep breath, before calling, “Derek! Come to the kitchen please!” Lifting Asha under the arms, Talia placed her on a nearby barstool. Derek appeared a few minutes later, face and ears red and smelling like he’d been playing outside.

“Yeah, Mom?” he asked, glancing at Asha briefly.

“Derek, this is Asha. Asha, this is Derek.” Derek nodded at the girl. “Derek, Sweetie, do you remember that story I used to tell you? The one about Soul Bound Mates?” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Uhh, yeah. I think so. Why?” It was at that moment that Peter walked into the kitchen.

“Peter, would you mind taking Asha to the playroom for a bit?” Talia entreated her brother. Glancing between the mother, son, and small girl, Peter quickly nodded and lifted Asha from the barstool.

…

8 years later

“Mom, just because the Moon Goddess or whatever said she was my mate, it doesn’t mean she has to be! I don’t even want her!” The words that spewed from Derek’s mouth were like a punch to Asha’s stomach.

“Derek!” Talia exclaimed. Asha quietly laid her mortar and pestle down and made her way from the house. She’d always known that Derek hated her. Hated what they were supposed to be. She hadn’t asked for any of it. She didn’t ask for Derek to be her mate. But she’d still have liked it if he hadn’t treated her like a pariah all her life. She was well on her way through the forest when she heard the door slam.

…

The smoke was choking her, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Her family’s lives depended on her. Peter was heavy, but she kept tugging. “Ash, stop. Let me go,” he rasped.

“No,” she choked out, finally seeing the moonlight through the haze, which meant only one thing. They had finally reached the backdoor. The knob seared her hand when she reached for it, and she couldn’t turn it. Gathering all the remaining magic she had, she sent a jolt through her charred fingertips to the door, which opened with an ominous creak. Untainted air rushed into her lungs, bringing her to her knees. She was merely 5 feet from the door when she collapsed. The crack of the house falling behind her was the last thing she heard.

…

10 years later

Derek sighed. He hated Beacon Hills. He’d lost everything to this fucking place. Why did he decide to come back here? The hospital loomed in front of him. He made his way inside, dodging the glances of the nurses. He could smell the pity wafting off of them.

“I heard some weird shit’s been happening around here.” Derek heard from inside his uncle’s room. He knew that voice. He peeked around the door and his breath caught in his throat.

“Ash?” he managed, eventually. A pair of wide blue eyes whipped his way. The scowl that accompanied them could only have been intended for him. Her scarred hands held a wet rag that she’d been using to gently dab at Peter’s face and arms. She laid it down and snatched her bag off of a nearby chair before stomping out. Derek stood dumbfounded. Ash had died in the fire. How the hell was she here?! “Ash! Wait!” he yelped, running after her. He caught up to her in the parking lot, grabbing her arm and pulling her to a halt. “Ash, you-you’re alive?”

“No, shit, Derek,” she growled, snatching her arm back. “What are you doing back here, anyway?”

“There’s been attacks. And Laura…”

“Laura, what?” Derek looked at the ground.

“She’s dead.” Asha sighed.

“You shouldn’t have come back. The town is going to shit. And you should have stayed gone.” With that, she stormed away.

…

Dumping her bag on the tattered leather chair in the center of her living room, Asha let out a sigh. What the hell was Derek Hale doing back in Beacon Hills? She hadn’t seen him in 10 years, and in that time, the rawness that his absence had lessened. Now, the wound was throbbing and searing within her. Chanting under her breath, a light breeze swirled around her. The mantra always soothed her, and this time was no different. The pain of the incomplete mate bond still resided deep under her skin deep within her veins, but it was bearable. She had made it 10 years ago, and she’d do it again. Now, to solve Beacon Hills rogue werewolf problem.

…

Derek couldn’t believe that Asha was alive. How could that be?! She died in that fire. Only Peter had survived. But there she was. Standing in that hospital room. And her rejection had hurt nearly as much as her death had. Derek knew it was his own fault. He’s the one that had been cruel. The one that had made her life hell. If he’d just been home with her that night…

Derek shook his head. There was no need in blaming himself right now. The time would come for that, but now he had work to do.

…

“And why would I help you, Sourwolf?” Stiles demanded, folding his hands over his chest.

“Because I’m the only hope you and the rest of your little friends have at surviving,” Derek hissed as he fisted the front of Stiles’ shirt.

“Finley, you said? Asha Finley?”

…

Asha was going at the punching bag in her room hard when her gut fluttered. She didn’t have time to analyze what that meant before Derek Hale climbed through her window. He dropped to the cold concrete smoothly. Asha glared at him. “Derek, what the fuck are you doing?” He stood and gave her a sheepish smile.

“Ash, I…I can’t believe you’re alive. I… I thought I’d lost you.”

“Lost me? You never had me, Derek. Never wanted me,” he ground out, turning away from him to grab her water bottle.

“Ash, that was…I was a kid.”

“So was I, Derek!” she hissed, as the lights began to flicker. “And you made it real fucking clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me then. And I don’t want anything to do with you now.” Derek felt pain and anger swell in his chest at her rejection. Storming her way, he grabbed her arm roughly.

“I know you feel it, Ash. Just like I do. That burning in your bloodstream. The pull towards me. It’s because you’re mine!” Asha looked shocked for a moment before snatching her arm away and stabbing a finger into his chest.

“I am not YOURS, Derek. You always hated that stupid bond, and I have the power to break it, now that you’re in town, I’m going to do just that.”

“The hell you will!” Derek roared, grabbing Asha’s chin in a firm hold. “You are my mate! Mine! And it will stay that way! If you so much as lift a finger to change that, you’ll regret it!” Derek had spent the last 10 years wondering just how his life would have turned out if his mate hadn’t died. And he was damned and determined not to blow the chance now that he had it.

#teen wolf #teenwolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fandom #derek hale #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

3 notes · View notes

heelust · 3 months

Text

something important ; yang jungwon

synopsis: high school is coming to an end, and just as your eagerness to go to college grows, so does your fear of not seeing your student council president again.

or in which, you muster up the courage to confess to your long-time crush, yang jungwon.

pairings : jungwon x fem!reader w : mentions of fears genre : fluff, slight angst letters count: 3,3k

[ dollie's note : im almost graduating school, too, so i got a bit inspired lol. i haven't sleep well lately, im too busy ㅠㅠ please enjoy <3 ]

( more )

standing in the middle of the hallway with sweaty and trembling hands, you thank heavens that you're alone there. well.. not alone completely.

there in front of you stood jungwon, the stuco president, looking directly at your eyes, in the search of some coherent explanation to the fact that you called him with the excuse "i have to tell you something important" just when he was about to close his locker to go home, but 5 minutes had passed and you were still trying to form a understandable sentence.

cursing mentally, 'i practiced this hundreds of times, come on!' you told yourself. of course you practiced this hundreds of times in the last two weeks but who, in their (in)sanity, would not forget almost everything in front of the person they like? not you, for sure.

jungwon seemed a little bit confused and you could easily tell that he wanted to go home by the way he furrowed his eyebrows and his stare went down to your feet up to your eyes again.

"what is it?" he asked, already getting tired of your preambles.

"I.." you went silent again. shyly looking at your shoes. jungwon's tired — and kinda annoyed — gaze was unnoticed by you, "I just can't bring myself to say it, but i swear it's important" you murmured and the boy in front of you felt guilty for slightly getting angry at you.

"it's okay. you can tell me tomorrow" he reassured you with an awkward smile, turning to walk away but you can't tell him tomorrow, you can't wait until tomorrow either. so, you grab his school's uniform shirt to stop him from taking another step. he turned around, a surprised expression on his face making you feel intimidated and immediately release your grip on his shirt.

"i can't really wait until tomorrow!" you started, your throat and lungs failing you when your voice cracked out nervousness, but that didn't stop you as you keep your posture, ready to say the four words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since the beginning of your junior year when you realized that jungwon, to you, was more than an acquaintance or a friend.

"i really like you" you closed your eyes, not because you were scared, but because it was a form of a shield which protected you from sturdy words and confessions, appeasing the impact they would have on you.

you did not fear what jungwon had to say, what you really feared is how much his words would hurt you, but being so focused on how to block the pain away didn't let you even process the words that let his heart-shaped lips:

"i think you're pretty, let's go out this weekend?" he looked so nonchalant with a small smile on his face, making you wonder if you were in a dream or you were just overreacting.

"oh, yeah. sure" short of words. you were short of words. "i'm free this weekend anyway" you mirrored his smile.

"let's go home now" he extended his hand, waiting for you to hold it. and you did, your smile growing wider.

you both walked hand in hand to the school's gates. having to part ways there due to the fact that your house was in the opposite direction from his. turning your back to him — not before saying good bye — jungwon smiled to himself, watching as the plushies hanging on your backpack jiggled with every step you took, eager to get home so you could text him, just as eager as he was to receive your texts and see you again.

do not plagiarize this work or any of my works.

taglist : none ( send ask to be added!)

likes and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

165 notes · View notes

landinoandco · 3 years

Note

Hey could you do one with max verstappen, where the reader a fight about him not helping around the house (witch he doesnt do because he is just tired from working hard but the reader dont know) so they yell at max and he suddenly walks away but then they find him crying in bed, because hes overworked and feels like hes never gonna be good enough at being a driver and the readers boyfriend. And feels like he can only dissapoint the reader, his dad and cristian. But the reader comforts him. Tnx

Because I'm not good enough...

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: angsty

Word count: 2 k

Requests are open :)

You were sat at the dining room table, staring out at the empty seat in front of you. Your arms crossed across your chest and your lip in between your teeth. You had been sat there for an hour - in the grand scheme of things an hour didn’t seem like such a long time but it was his final warning and an hour was just long enough to allow for your anger to boil over.

Dinner was in the fridge - the same dinner you had cooked an hour ago, your phone lay screen up on the table - the same phone you used to call Max two hours and a half hours ago, he told you he was on his way home. Home whilst you were in the UK was 25 minutes away from the Redbull HQ. This was becoming a regular occurrence, some nights he would come home so late that you had already taken yourself to bed. The atmosphere in the house seemed to freeze over whenever he was around even though you were yet to come out of summer, there was something hanging over the pair of you - unspoken feelings and as of now a red hot anger that threatened to escape from your usually composed nature.

Ever since the championship had taken a turn in the favour of Redbull, Max had started to become much more distant. It started off with him not inviting you along to the races, leaving on the Wednesday before race weekend and sometimes not seeing him until the following Tuesday and that was on a stand alone race weekend. On the triple headers, it could be nearing two weeks until you two were spared 5 minutes alone and even then it was a brief conversation before he rushed back to the factory or to train.

You thought you knew what you signed up for and since yours and Max’s relationship and that was three years ago so you thought you had seen it all - been through it all with him, witnessed every high and every low. This was a new territory and you knew that if it wasn’t tackled soon -

The click of the door lock echoed in the hallway, you straightened in your seat - eyes locked ahead of you and your knee bouncing.

Max sighed loudly and wiped his hand over his face, it had been a long day - he had been at the factory up until Christian had invited him out to lunch, it was nice to catch up with his boss and Max felt like he owed the man so much; guiding him through the years that had led up to the moment they found themselves in. Max felt like over the past years he had matured as a person, sometimes still short tempered but being an F1 driver it wasn’t necessarily a bad trait. After his lunch with Christian, his dad had called him - the less said about the conversation the better. By the time you had called, the last thing he wanted to do was come home and risk upsetting you. He had taken himself on a run - to clear his head and focus on what he was going to say to you because he felt like something definitely needed to be said.

He also owed a lot to you, you had put up with so much over the years and standing by his side even when he had made a mistake - although you were very quick to tell him when he was in the wrong. You seemed to be on his level, a blunt and forward look at life - there was no time for dawdling about when you had things to be done. Life was short and there was no time to waste.

Recently however, he was putting so much pressure and stress on himself about work that the hours slipped away from him and so did the time spent with you. He felt the atmosphere change around the pair of you - as though he was always walking on thin ice, the cracks beginning to show. The guilt he felt was nothing like he had ever felt before, all he wanted to do was talk to you but he was scared of pushing you away - which is ironic because not talking and letting the pent up anger build up was having the same effect. He was never that good when it came to talking about how he felt - as much as he wanted to he felt as though he would be a burden and that he would put too much pressure on you. He could never tell you what he really felt like inside. It was embarrassing, he knew that a professional athlete should never feel what he felt. It weakened him and having weaknesses in a sport like Formula 1 was not an option.

Max shrugged his coat off and walked through to the main room of the apartment - the room where you were sat waiting to pounce as though he was your unsuspecting prey.

He offered a tired smile, in response he got a sneer. Swallowing hard, you felt the anger take over, like some monster escaping from a cage.

“I have been sitting here for an hour, Max -” You shot to your feet, pointing at the table, your voice cracked slightly. “For months, you’ve been leaving me - it’s me who’s been cooking for us both, cleaning, washing - everything, Max. By myself.” You were shouting now, your heart threatening to break free from your chest. Max just stood there, a blank expression on his face - his gaze fixed to the ground. “I don’t understand what went wrong, Max. We were happy, hell, we spoke to each other. Now, I’m alone. In fact, I may as well be alone if this doesn’t change.” The words had fallen out of your mouth before you had any time to consider them - or the consequences. Your eyes went round with shock and you fell back to your seat. A loud silence filled the room.

Max, too, had not expected the words that had initiated the silence. He opened his mouth, eyes still on the ground, then closed it again before raising his head and looking you dead in the eye.

“You don’t mean that.” He managed to mutter, barely being able to raise his voice any louder. He felt a tired emptiness, this was the last thing he had wanted to happen.

“That’s all you have to say to me.” You rounded on him again, angry tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“No - I -” He stuttered, then closed his eyes, inhaling slowly, “I just don’t think we should talk things through whilst you’re angry -” He saw you about to interject, when he raised his hands. “You have every right to be. That’s not what I’m saying. I think we should wait to talk about it so we don’t say things we are going to regret later.” Max could feel his throat constricting, he was battling to keep his emotions at bay.

You sniffed and nodded slowly, placing your head in your hands - hot tears escaping and shoulders tensed.

Max swallowed thickly, his eyes swimming with tears. He made a move and after no interruption left the room. He had only made it to the stairs before he collapsed, the fatigue getting the better of him. He was such an idiot, a fact he was certainly aware of now, how could he have let things get this bad. Did that make him a selfish person?

He couldn’t hold it in any longer, a harsh sob escaping from his mouth - fingers shaking and his head a loud mess.

As soon as Max had left the room, you had gotten up to get some water - when you paused, a sound catching your attention - a deep sounding sob. You waited, a line appeared between your brows. Slowly and carefully, you inched towards the door - waiting with baited breath for the sound again.

It was coming from the stairs and there was only one person it could be. Regret instantly pooled in the pit of your stomach, you hadn’t meant for him to cry. You were just so angry and he needed to know that.

“Max.” You called out softly, unsurprisingly there was no response. You went in the direction of the stairs and hunched over in front of you was your boyfriend - attempting to stifle his sobs. You rushed forwards, placing your arms around his shoulders and pulled his body into yours. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around your waist. You kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair as he continued to cry - you allowed him to empty his emotions out; some tears of your own betraying you entirely.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Came a muffled voice. Pausing, you released your hold of him and placed your hands either side of his face - offering him a watery smile. Then, using your sleeves you wiped his tears away - he watched your every move, waiting for you to say something. When you didn’t, he braced himself - lips trembling; he knew it was now or never. He had to tell you how he really felt.

“I’m not good enough.” He stated simply, his eyes glossy. Your forehead furrowed. “I’m never going to be good enough to take the championship, I’m going to let everyone down. Everyone that has ever believed in me - it doesn’t matter what I do, how much work I put in - I’m never good enough. And you -” He paused, meeting your gaze, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I keep letting you down, time and time again. I was the one who caused this, I’m never going to be good enough for you.”

“If you believe that -” You began, kissing the newly formed tears away, “Then I will eat your race shoe.” You moved to sit next to him on the stairs, pulling him into your side. “Why didn’t you tell me that’s how you felt.”

You felt Max shrug, the side of his head resting on yours. “I didn’t want to burden you with all of my problems, you already put up with so much.”

“I will always have time for you, Max.” Grasping his hand in yours, “You are enough, you are more than enough. You are Max Verstappen, the fastest, strongest guy I know.” You chuckled lightly, “I know it may sometimes feel like that and that’s ok. You are putting yourself through so much - maybe, it’s time to give some consideration for your personal life. It’s unhealthy to work all of the time - then we run into issues like these.” You spoke softly, almost whispering but you could tell he was hanging onto every word you spoke. “I love you, Max. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You admitted, turning your head to look at him. He chewed on his bottom lip, processing your words.

“I love you too, more than anything.” He murmured, placing his forehead on yours. You lifted your head slightly to leave a soft kiss on his nose, earning the corners of his lips to quirk up.

Closing your eyes, you relished being in his arms again, to have him close to you. You had missed it. You had missed him. Both of you knew you had a lot to work through, that it wouldn’t simply disappear but both of you were going to do it together. Hand in hand. And that was more than enough.

443 notes · View notes

henry-and-the-seven-lords · 3 years

Text

Crying Some Sense

Lucifer x MC

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Prompt: "No, don't cry, I hate it when you cry."

Description: Lucifer has been put under house arrest and has been keeping himself in his office. His brothers and MC are worried, so they devise a plan to pull him out.

Warning: angst, slightly fluffy ending, Changing and possible spoiling of events from Lesson 14, there is also some threatening language so be weary of that

Levi and Mammon walk behind MC. They trudged through the damp grass behind the House of Lamentations as the sun begins to set.

"So are you sure this is going to work?" MC's voice sounds skeptical. Mammon's grand plan to get Lucifer out of the house while under arrest was for MC to touch the Grimoire Luke had picked up a few weeks earlier. This would have been easy, but recently it was moved to the mausoleum, where a certain three headed dog that only listened to Lucifer watched over it.

Mammon flashes them a smile, nodding as he walked, "Of course, ya touch it and he'll come bursting out of his office and we can talk about everything."

"Yeah, burstings right." Levi mumbled to himself before his voice began to raise, "Bursting with anger-" Levi is silence by his brother's hand as MC turns around.

"What did Levi say?" Fear filled their eyes as they watched Levi struggle in Mammon's grip.

"He just said, he'll be bursting with excitement! That's all!" His words are followed by an unconvincing laugh. MC stares at the two unconvinced before turning around. When MC starts walking again, Mammon smacks Levi's shoulder and whisper yells, "Keep your mouth shut. We don't need them freaking out even more."

Levi's eyes widened at his older brother as he whispered back, "You know it's true! Are you just going to throw them in front of Lucifer without telling them how mad he will be!?"

Mammon shushes him before checking on MC. As the wind began to howl, he answered his brother, "I was gonna figure that out when we got there. Now come on!"

Mammon grabbed Levi's arm and pulled him forward as they began to catch a glimpse of the rest of the party.

Within seconds the three were standing before Beel, Asmo, and Satan. It had become dark in the time it took Levi, Mammon, and MC to reach the outside of the mausoleum gates.

The wind began to whip around them fiercely as Asmo spoke, "Are you ready to talk to Lucifer?" His voice sounded sweet against the harsh wind.

"I-I think so." MC voice stuttered as the began to shiver against the cold night air.

When Beel heard their voice stutter, he walked over to them giving MC his jacket, "You know what to talk about, right?"

MC nodded at the tall demon, "I need to ask him about Belphie."

Satan nodded with a smile, "Correct. We'll be close by making sure Cerebrus stays out of your hair."

MC looked around, as best as they could in the dark, at all the brothers. Across everyone's faces was the same expression of sadness. These demons standing before them knew something that they did not and that terrified MC to their core.

Before long, Mammon's booming voice interrupted their thoughts, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

The Brothers led the way as MC walked behind them. The group was silent. A solemn, anxious air surrounded them as each foot crunched the grass below.

As they approached the entrance, Beel began to fall back and walk next to MC. He seemed anxious as well. This wasn't the first time MC had seem the gentle giant worry, but this was by far the worst it has ever been.

They glanced over and could see him playing with his fingers and sneaking glances at them as if he wanted to say something.

To ease his nerves, MC began the conversation, "Are you excited that you could see your twin again?"

A contented smiles passed Beel's face at MC's words, "Yeah... It really means a lot to me- to us. That you are doing this. That you are bringing our family back together."

MC smiled back. Beel's words warmed MC's heart and made the chills raking their body stop for just a moment, "It's the least I can do."

As MC finishes speaking, Mammon's voice yells over the wind to the group, "We're here."

Beel jogs up to the front of the group next to Mammon. The two begin to open the ornate stone doors leading into the mausoleum. Once the doors are pulled back, light floods their eyes blinding them for a second as they gaze into the cavernous tomb.

Mammon stands in the doorway puffing his chest and looking around to his brothers before he begins to speak once again.

"Asmo, Satan," He points to the pair, "You two go to the left and search for Cerebrus." He then gestures to the other two brothers and himself, "Levi, Beel, and I will go to the right." Mammon then turns his gaze from his brothers to MC, that sullen expression taking over his face once again. He walks up to them, gently placing his hand on their shoulders.

"You go dead center. Don't look back. Don't stop. No matter what you hear. You run to that book." As MC stared into his eyes they could see tears begin to prick the corners before he turned away saying, "Everyone got it?"

A resounding yes was heard and the group made their way in. They walked down a set of grand stone stairs.

MC stopped on the last stair as all the brothers looked at them. Asmo walked up to them grabbing their hands and speaking to them, "You wait here until you can't see us anymore. Then you start running." He looked into their eyes as he bent down and laid a gentle kiss on their hands.

All the Brothers looked at MC with sad eyes. Slowly they went up to them one at a time giving hugs and words of encouragement.

After all of their hugs were given, they split up and began to walk in different directions. MC stood and watched the brothers slowly disappear from their view until they were alone.

They stepped down gently taking a deep breath, before they began to sprint straight ahead.

As they ran, they could hear the pitter patter of soft feet to their left. The sound was then followed by a shout, "Over here, Cerebrus!" The voice sounded like Satan in the distance.

MC kept running as resounding shouts began to surround them on both sides. Mammon, Levi, Beel, Asmo, and Satan were all heard. Their voices seemed to echo off the walls and it became indistinguishable which side they were coming from.

After 5 minutes their legs began to burn as a statue came into view. They slowed before taking a breath and staring at the beautiful figure.

The towering statue was a young woman. Her face was solemn as her wings spread out from her back as if they were sheltering her. Her head was bent down and he hands were extended, almost as if she was giving an offering. In her hands, sat a black book.

"This must be the Grimoire everyone talked about." Their voice echoed in the mass of sound.

MC stepped closer inspecting the book. The black cover was made out of leather that had begun to crack. While the pages were thick and beginning to yellow creating a stark contrast of color.

They reached out their hands grabbing the book before looking around for the demon they came here to see.

The screaming that once filled the giant space stopped along with the sound of paws smacking against the floor. Everything was silent.

While waiting for something or someone to appear, MC became curious as to the books contents and began to flip through the pages.

As the pages fell open with a crinkle, the ground began to shake beneath them tearing their attention away from the Grimoire.

They looked up, before them stood Lucifer in his demon form. The ground below him was cracked and dust settled around him.

His gaze and aura is one of anger and determination as he begins to walk closer to MC.

"I see that you can't listen." His voice is steady and stern as he approaches.

MC's voice feels caught in their throat as they begin to step back to add some distance. As they did this, they shut the book and clutched it to their chest.

"I tell you to never touch this book, and yet here you are disobeying me once again." His eyes begin to flare red as MC hits the statue's hands, crawling on them to get away.

"Do you even know who I am? Do you know what you are defacing?" His expression looks crazed as his teeth become bared as he speaks.

MC finally finds their voice as they stare into his eyes, "I did this to help you. I wanted to talk about-"

"Help me!? You think this is helping me. Putting my entire family in danger just to get my attention." His voices raises to an ear piercing level as he continues, "Well now you have it!"

Silence once again overtakes the mausoleum as they stare into each other's eyes, "Oh? Now the mighty human is scared of me? It's too late for that."

Lucifer's bears his fangs and begins to reach for MC's body as they recoil deeper into the hands of the statue. They covered their face with their arms and squeeze their eyes shut bracing for impact.

Tears begin to prick the corners of their eyes and a sob shakes their body. They expect to feel an immeasurable amount of pain at the hands of one of their caretakers, but it never comes.

Slowly, MC peaks out from their curled up position to get a glimpse at the demon before them. His fangs are retracted and his demon form is gone as he stares wide eyed at the human.

They stare at him in the eyes as tears roll down their cheeks in droves.

"Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Please no, don't cry, I hate it when you cry." They watched as one of the most powerful demons in all of the Devildom, the very demon that was about to rip them to shreds mere seconds ago, gently pulls them into his chest. He wraps his arms around their midsection like he had done before. He cradled their body delicately in his arms as if he was holding a glass sculpture.

MC listens to his heart beat thump erratically against one ear as he whispers in the other, "I never should have said that. I shouldn't have lashed out at you." He pauses, and MC can hear his heart's pace slow.

"I am just, so worried about Belphie. There is so much I still need to do to fix that problem. I thought, you were just going to make things worse."

He pulls them closer to his chest and MC feels hot tears fall onto their head, "How stupid am I, to let my rage overtake me and almost risk losing you as well."

MC's tears have slowed, but at his words, another river of them begins to trickle out. The two continue to cry in each other's arms for hours as they try to not only fix the problem, but work out their emotions.

560 notes · View notes

celestialarchon · 3 years

Text

400+ Followers Celebration!

various genshin impact x f!reader

warnings: fluff/crack/NSFW implications, jokes and innuendos. reverse Isekai storyline and a LOT of attention on reader. SPOILERS FOR IN GAME. Archon spoilers!

As much as you tried, connecting and staying in reality was too hard. It was always the same outcome, finding yourself whisked away to another fantasy land through media. Normally your obsessions didn’t last long, but one game had completely sucked you in. Maybe it was the stress of the nightmare year 2020 or maybe it was the fact that Genshin Impact was everything you loved and more, but you couldn’t get enough. It was getting out of hand as even your roommates had began to play because of the way you romanticized the game. Acquiring most of the five star characters, building several strong teams, and finishing almost all the quests in roughly 5 months.

As an insomniac, it was easy to grind through the game until the sun came up. Sometimes you wondered if it was strange that an adult would be so enamored with a game but shrugged it off. It’d been a hellish year, you deserved to treat yourself.

Yet another night spent entirely on the dreamy land of Teyvat. You yawned and stretched as the sun peaked through the blinds and cursed yourself for not noticing the passing time. Removing your head set, you yawned again, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over you. It was strange, you’d only been up one night and you were already so tired. Your home was quiet, all the roommates sound asleep as you crept into your bed under the covers. The stuffie you adored so much was soon in your arms as you drifted off, wishing to dream of traveling the world of Teyvat.

An extremely loud crashing sound woke you from your deep sleep. Instinctively you shot up, your arm moved on its own aiming for the space around you and swinging quickly and forcefully. Your fist made contact with something and you shrieked as the strange shadow crumpled. You flew out of your bed and away from the safety of your covers, grasping for the light switch.

Your panicked screeches only grew louder as the figure on the floor groaned and stood upright, still fumbling for the lights. Fingertips finally brushed the switch on the wall and you flipped the lights on. The sudden brightness blinded you for a minute and the mystery person as well. It hit you how stupid it was to turn on the lights in your room as soon as your eyes adjusted. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you rushed to the door. You could hear heavy footsteps from the other room. Other people were home you needed to get to them.

“Shiiiiit,” The strange person groaned again, “I drank too much.”

The voice was familiar and made you freeze for a moment. Mentally slapping yourself you darted out of your room but ran straight into a wall. Well, that’s what it felt like, but there wasn’t a wall outside your door. The force of the collision knocked you on your ass and you yelped as you hit the floor.

“Oh? What’s this?” The supposed wall turned to look at you, eyebrows arched as he stared down at you.

Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you looked up at the familiar man. That smooth voice, the long hair, the eyepatch. This had to be some sort of weird dream. No matter how hard you tried to move, your body wouldn’t obey. You heard steps from behind you and glanced back to see another Mondstadt troublemaker. A disgruntled anemo archon was slowly approaching you.

“Ehe, fuck, she hit me hard.” Venti giggled nervously.

“Poor thing,” Kaeya held his hand out to you, “Did the mean little twink scare you?”

The room was spinning, so you took the cryo pirate’s hand. Your jaw was probably still on the floor. His grip was strong and cool, it was bringing you back down to the reality of the situation you were in. Oh, the irony. You were not dreaming. Awestruck, you peered behind Kaeya into your living room to see even more Genshin characters just vibing. The esteemed geo archon was drinking from your favorite mug, two troublesome harbingers bickered in the corner of the room, a certain librarian was flipping through your books, both travelers were attempting to learn how to play uno. It was unreal. A pirate was flirting with a silver haired beauty.There was an astrologist examining your fish tank, an alchemist and a child terrorist asleep on your floor, and a fucking adeptus perched on your couch like a gargoyle.

Your roommates were nowhere in sight and your home was crowded by your fictional lovers. The absolute chaos of it all sent you over the edge. High pitched, clearly unstable laughter erupted from you. What else could you do? Cry? That wouldn’t change anything. All eyes shifted to you as you leaned on the wall, clutching your abdomen and giggling like a madwoman. Kaeya shifted away from you, allowing the others to get a good look at you.

Finally composing yourself, you stood up straight and introduced yourself, “Hello, why are you invading my home?”

“Hey girlie! I’m Childe,” The cheery harbinger nearly skipped up to you shaking your hand, “but you can call me daddy.”

Your face reddened at his bold introduction but you clicked your tongue avoiding his eyes.

“Hello, cutie. I’m Lisa.”

“Albedo, and this is Klee.”

“I tend to go by Zhongli.”

“Beidou! The lovely lady by my side is Ningguang.”

“Adeptus Xiao.”

They all introduced themselves so politely, you almost felt bad for acting a bit crazy. However, that feeling was quickly swept away by Kaeya and his sharp tongue.

“Kaeya, but I believe you already know that,” he smirked at you, “May I ask why you aren’t wearing any pants?”

“Oi, what?” You looked down and gasped.

Venti’s drunk ass had sent you into fight and flight mode so you had forgotten all about your night time attire. You were in an oversized Genshin Impact shirt without any pants on. Shoving Venti out of your way, you rushed to your room to dig for pants. Oh, how you wished you hadn’t forgotten about laundry. You hastily grabbed a pair of shorts that really didn’t do much except cover your underwear.

“I have shorts on now. You just can’t tell because of my shirt.” You declared entering the living room.

Some of the more promiscuous characters giggled at your embarrassment while Zhongli facepalmed and the most serious of them all, Scaramouche and Xiao, simply scowled. You sat on the end of your couch furthest from everybody else, nervous. Nobody had answered your earlier question. Apparently your discomfort was lost on the Adeptus Xiao, or he just didn’t care. He was in front of you in a flash, pinching your face and glaring at you.

“Why did you call us here you foolish mortal?” His tone was more annoyed than murderous.

Zhongli slapped Xiao’s hands away from your face and sat down next to you, “Be nice. She doesn’t know either.”

You nodded at this, and the room erupted in murmurs. Zhongli slipped his arm around you, patting your shoulder sympathetically. Lumine tossed the Uno cards down and glided to you, taking strands of your hair into her hands and beginning to play with it. Perhaps it’s because you played as both the travelers but the three of you seemed to silently click. Scaramouche and Childe began to argue again about something silly. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a certain bard and the charming Sir Kaeya raiding your liquor cabinet.

It was too overwhelming to argue. Lumine took her time playing with your hair while the others attempted to figure out how to go back to their own world. Xiao crept closer to you, truly like a cat. Beidou and Ningguang fawned over you and invited you into their relationship several times. You politely declined, knowing they’d have to go back to their world. It was disappointing and a bit frustrating.

Your wish came true but it was too good to be true. Albedo seemed to notice your silence. He gently maneuvered his adorable little sister off of him and approached you. His eyes were filled with curiosity, your silence only made his thoughts wander further.

“Can I experiment on you?” Albedo was blunt.

“Huh?” You blinked, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“I’m not sure if that was brave or stupid,” Childe snickered, “Has he always been this bold?”

“Tch,” Scaramouche rolled his eyes, “Thats a terrible pick up line, mad scientist.”

“Leave my cutie alone!” Lisa yanked Albedo away from you defensively.

The room was filled with protest at Lisa’s words. Zhongli merely sighed and pulled you closer. Venti’s dumb ass was floating around your living room hiccuping. Xiao was wedging himself between you and the arm of the couch. It was insane. Beidou and Ningguang noticed the two Liyue men snuggling up to you and marched over to the three of you.

Ningguang tried to pull you away from them while Beidou aggressively smacked at Xiao. Xiao was hissing at the beautiful captain and Zhongli was attempting to intervene. You shoved them out of your way and stood up, panicked by the attention. Lisa caught you as you tripped over your own feet but landed face first into her chest. She stroked your hair but was interrupted by Albedo grabbing your wrist and mumbling about experiments. The single moment Childe and Scaramouche got along was to pull you from Albedo but it became a quick tug of war over you.

Somehow, Klee was still asleep and Kaeya was just watching all of it go down.

“Cheeeeeeeeers, bitch bitches,” The Knight slurred.

“Enough.” Lumine and Aether both intervened.

Aether held his hand out to you, “You don’t have to pick now, but please say you’ll come with us?”

“You belong in Teyvat,” Lumine smiled at you warmly.

“So,” Aether continued “What do you say, outlander?”

All eyes were on you as the words left Aether’s lips. What would you do?

1K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Laisse tomber les filles 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: That slow creep, tho

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You looked down at your body and fidgeted. The skirt was so short you pulled on a pair of stockings in an effort to hide your legs, and it was tight like the blouse. Both pieces seemed to be just a size too small. The boots were higher than any heels you’d worn before and you felt awkward in the get-up.

Noon. That was when he told you the night before as he kept stalling you from leaving. Every time you were ready to push open the car door, he had something else to say. You agreed to noon just to appease him so you could run and hide in your dorm.

You pulled on your long pea coat and stuffed your textbooks into your canvas bag with the leather straps. You hiked it up on your shoulder and slung your pocketbook from your other. You stepped out into the hallway and wobbled on the heels. You clung to the handle as you kept yourself upright.

“Wow, you look special,” Gina remarked as she peeked through the kitchen door.

“Um, thanks,” you pulled your coat closed and buttoned it, “it’s… new.”

“It’s cute,” she said as Lisa came to peek through the doorway as well.

“Where are you going?” the second girl asked.

“To study,” you said as you carefully made your way to the heavy door that led to the stairwell.

“Oh, study, huh?” she teased, “can’t be alone then.”

“I’m gonna be late,” you kept your chin down.

“Don’t let us hold you up,” Gina said as you opened the door and stepped out.

“I didn’t know she had anywhere to go,” Lisa’s trilled and her voice slipped into the hall just before the wood slid back into the frame.

You exhaled through your nose and braced the railing for your slow and treacherous descent. As you got to the bottom, you teetered and pressed yourself to the wall as two girls came through the door. You watched them flit up the stairs and scurried out into the spring air.

The weather was as bitter as before. It smelled like wet grass and mud. The sun beamed down warmly and made you sweat in your jacket. You gripped the strap of your bag and cleared the single step to even ground.

“Honey,” the voice drew your eyes up from your boots and you blinked.

The sheriff stood by his cruiser as he watched you. He didn’t wear his uniform, instead a pair of grey slacks and pure white button-up under his usual leather. He smiled and came to the end of the walk as you hesitantly closed the gap. Your heel caught in a crack and you stumbled. He caught you and gave a soft laugh.

“You okay?” he asked as he held your elbow in one hand and his other went to the small of your back.

“I’m fine,” you righted yourself and parted from him, “just didn’t see the crack.”

“Here,” he tugged on your heavy knapsack, “let me take this.”

You let him, unsure what to say. He was early. Your watch assured you he was a whole twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Your own timing was purely habit as you hated to keep others waiting.

“Thank you,” you squeaked as he put the bag in the back seat.

“So, can I see it?” he asked as he shut the door.

“What?” your brows knitted in confusion.

“The clothes,” he said lightly, “that is what you’re hidin’ under there, right?” he pointed at a large round button on your pea coat, “it’s too warm to be wearin’ all that.”

“Can I wait… until we’re at your, um, place?” you clutched the round collar of your coat anxiously.

“Oh, for my eyes only, huh,” he teased with a wink.

“No, I just… can we go?”

“Course, honey,” he brushed by you and opened the front door, “get in.”

You sat and pulled your legs in, hooking them around the edge of the seat stiffly as you crossed one over the other. The door closed and you picked at the metal clasp of your pocket book and chewed your lip. Why were you doing all this? You were an adult, he said it himself, you could say no…

You glanced around, his sheriff’s hat sat on the dashboard and you shook your head. No, you couldn’t. He was a cop and your discomfort wasn’t a reason to be uncourteous. Your mother always told you to push yourself out of your safe zone. She hated how you always held yourself back because you were scared. It was difficult enough to get you out of the house and into a dorm.

Once he was in the car, there was no turning back. You coudn’t lie about feeling sick or claim a forgotten study group, you were on your way and suddenly you were filled with panic. What if he wasn’t taking you to his house? Did that star on his hat really mean he was a good person?

“Um,” the syllable slipped from you nervously.

“What is it, hon?” he asked as he gripped the grooved wheel.

“Um, I don’t…” you stuttered as you searched for words. You couldn’t let him know what you were really afraid of, “so, uh, I would’ve thought that… you have a wife?”

His brows flicked up as you peeked over at him. He pushed his bottom lip out and hummed. He clicked his tongue and sighed.

“Well, I did,” he admitted, “but I don’t like to talk about it too much. She, er, she’s married to my deputy now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “I didn’t…”

“It’s all over now,” he shrugged, “you know, I’ve moved on. We’re both happier for it.”

“That’s… good, then,” you murmured.

“Must be, I met you,” he smiled, “huh?”

“Well, I…” your hand shook and hid it up your sleeve, “I don’t know, I’m a bit young, aren’t I?”

“Young?” he said, “you don’t act it. You’re a lot more mature than lots of ladies I know. The way you carry yourself… you work hard I can tell. I don’t see your age, just a good woman.”

“Hmm,” you pursed your lips tightly.

“I mean it,” he insisted, “you got character beyond your age.”

“Thank you, but I… I don’t know,” you picked at the cuff of your coat.

“You brought your books?” he said, “must’ve. That bag sure is heavy. I got a place for ya all set up.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll be workin’ on supper, I hope you don’t mind the noise,” he drawled, “you know, I don’t cook often so I might be a bit… lost.”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” you offered, “really, it’s… too much.”

“I wanna, honey,” he said, “ain’t it special? A fellow cookin’ for his lady?”

“Uh, oh,” you frowned, “sure.”

“And you can turn the radio on if you like,” he continued, “it’s new.”

You nodded and listened meekly. Every argument you had for him was quickly shot down. He was so good at telling you how you were wrong or what to do while making it feel like good advice. Each demand, each want, was presented as common sense. It was impossible to argue with him because deep inside, you couldn’t argue with yourself.

While your gut told you something was off, your head assured you of your paranoia. You didn’t know any better, did you? You didn’t know how these things worked, how men and women got along, so of course it would feel strange to you. But he knew and he was so confident about it, he must be right.

📚

Lee’s house was nice, just outside the city limits. It reminded you of the suburban homes you passed on your way to high school in your hometown. You only ever lived in an apartment with your parents and so found the place extravagant compared to boxy until attached hallways noisy with troublesome neighbours.

He led you onto the porch, the wood painted white, and opened both the screen door and thicker wood one ahead of you. You were forced to brush against him as you entered. He was quick to trail you, the screen snapping shut behind him. He hung his leather coat and tugged on the back of your collar as he plunked down your bookbag.

“Go on then,” he said, “let me see it, honey.”

You closed your eyes and steeled yourself. You forced a smile as you undid the first button and slowly turned to him. You unhooked each until the coat fell open and you let it fall down your arms. You quickly swept it up and he took it to hang beside his own.

He faced you and gripped your shoulders as he looked down at you. You shied away as his eyes roved down your body and you took a step back as you crossed your arms.

“They’re a bit tight,” you said.

“You look mighty fine,” he slithered, “look like they fit just nice.”

“Erm,” you rocked on the balls of your feet.

He smiled and knelt to untie his shoes. You unzipped the boots and stepped out of them, stretching your arches as before you brought them flat. You pushed them beside his shoes as his strong cologne tickled your nose.

“Just in here, honey,” he waved you through a doorway, “come on.”

He went back to grab your bag and pointed you in ahead of him as he returned to you. He went to the sofa and dropped the bag on the cushion.

“You can get settled in,” he sidled away from the coffee table, “the radios there,” he gestured to the console table along the wall, “record player too.”

“Thanks, I should be fine,” you neared and sat on the edge of the couch.

“I’ll be through there, in the kitchen,” he peeked over at another door, “you need anything, just holler.”

“I will,” you twined your fingers through each other, “thank you.”

He smirked and shoved his hands in his pockets as he lingered on the other side of the table, “you do look nice in that,” he looked you up and down again, “you don’t even need the stockings with how warm it’s gettin’.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and brought your fingers to tap your lip, “guess I should get started.”

You reached for the flap of your book bag and slid out a heavy textbook. You sensed him watching you before his feet slowly turned away and he strode from the room. You opened the book and flipped through the pages mindlessly.

This house was far enough from the city, far enough that you were stranded, and much of the area was new to you. The realisation made you tremble as you counted the page numbers.

#lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #dark!lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #fic #dark fic #series #laisse tomber les filles #dark!fic #the devil all the time #au #college au

375 notes · View notes

ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 5

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.5K Warnings: Explicit Language, ALL THE ANGST. AND MORE TO COME! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines @starflyer-104 @iwillstaywiththemforever @justine-en @weirdgirlfromtx @notsostraightweeb @candlestudy @edlothia-baby @soul-end @willieoo @willowoo @peterxwade24 @the-atlantic-french-fry @bad-bouquet-of-emotions @vvipgot7be @pure-princess-97 @atomicsoulhumanspy

Author's Note: I have nothing to say for any of the emotions y'all are about to get from this. Enjoy!-Thorne

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she sat down, but the stretching silence growing between her and her estranged family wasn’t it. She tried to look anywhere but them, not because she was ashamed—far from it. But it was more than awkward sitting across from three brothers and a father she’d not spoken to in three years, let alone tell them she was even alive.

Her eyes found Wally’s as he sat down beside her eldest brother and if looks could’ve killed, he’d been dead and buried.

“Glare at me all you want, but I’m not going to apologize,” he shrugged.

Scowling, she turned her attention to the skyline. “Fuck you,” she spat, crossing her arms.

“At least talk to them, (Y/N).”

“And why should I, Wally?” she questioned, glaring at him. “I don’t have anything to say. If I did, I wouldn’t be here in Central.”

“You’re not leaving until you talk to them,” he finalized with a firm look and she growled low in her throat and resigned herself to her fate.

Her eyes darted to her father’s and she couldn’t for the life of her decipher what was in them. “I’ll talk for an hour,” she told him. “I’m not talking about what I’ve been doing in Central City, so don’t ask. I’m not talking about the life I’ve been living, so don’t ask. You’re only allowed to ask me about my departure and that’s it. But after one hour is up, I’m leaving.”

“Who said you get to leave,” Wally questioned, and she shot him the darkest glower she could muster.

“So help me God, Wally West you’ll either take me home or you’ll fix that fucking elevator and I’ll walk myself home. Because if you don’t, I’ll tell the world who every vigilante is at this table.”

For once she managed to stump him because his eyes went wide—so did her family’s but she didn’t care—and he finally nodded.

“Alright. One hour.”

Seemingly satisfied with his answer, she turned back to her family, more specifically her father. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?”

“Maybe for you to come home, (Y/N),” Jason answered, and she glanced to him.

“Not a chance. Next?”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to be hostile. We’re not going to force you here,” Dick said, and she looked at him now, eyes narrowing.

“The manipulation tactic isn’t going to work on me, Dick. I’m not here for to be tricked into coming back. I’m never coming back.” She cocked her leg over the side of the table and reclined, biting out, “Give me your anger. I’d prefer that instead of whatever this pitiful bullshit you’ve got going on.”

In the eighteen years they’d known their sister they’d never heard her say such a callous thing, but her words had practically slapped Dick across the face because hurt etched onto his expression, then immediately turned into anger.

“You want my anger? Fine.” He stood and pointed at her. “What the hell is wrong with you! Why would just up and disappear like you did! Do you have any idea how scared we were for you! How distraught!”

(Y/N) blinked at him. “Knowing how you like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders because you can’t help but be a hero? Probably a lot.” She made a dramatic show of looking at her watch. “You’ve got forty minutes. Keep it up.”

Her eyes shifted to Bruce’s. “Did you let them read the letter? Or did you just throw it away after you read it?”

Dick, Jason, and Tim all turned to Bruce at that.

“Letter?” Tim repeated. “What letter?”

(Y/N)’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape and then she smiled knowingly. “Oh, you never showed them the letter, did you?” She looked to her brothers. “I wrote dad a letter the night I left to explain why I was leaving. It’s sugarcoated bullshit but it is the truth.”

Dick’s face contorted in anger. “(Y/N) left a reason behind and you didn’t tell us about it? Three years and not a single word?”

Bruce merely stared at her as he pulled the letter out of his coat pocket. “I was going to burn it when I found her again. Talk to her before anyone else could.”

Jason snatched the letter from his hands. It had faded a bit, softened around the hard edges, like someone had opened it and read it every day for three years.

His eyes scanned the paper, and he met her gaze, voice chock-full of hurt and she had to fight tooth and nail to keep herself from externally reacting. “You left because you thought we didn’t care about you?”

Dick reached over and took the letter. With furrowed brows and a frown, he started to read aloud, and Bruce gazed at (Y/N) as the memory came back to him.

***

Mornings at the manor were unusually quiet in comparison with the evenings. Everyone was typically too tired to argue so it accounted for a peaceful breakfast of soft words and chewing. Everyone had an assigned seat and every child had learned early on not to take the seat that belonged to another brother or their sister because there would be a fight about it.

Dick and Jason sat next to each other and (Y/N) took the seat at the end of that side; Tim and Damian took the other side—oldest to youngest, just the neat and even way Bruce liked it.

It was rare for any of the boys to be awake before him or Alfred and (Y/N) was usually the first kid to the table, the boys wandering in just minutes after her. Oddly enough, that morning she hadn’t come down for breakfast—which she always came to.

Bruce looked at Alfred. “Is (Y/N) coming down?”

Alfred hummed and gently maneuvered Tim’s arm to the side to he could set down the plate. “When I went to her door, it was locked, and I received no conversation from inside.”

Jason snorted and sipped his coffee. “Probably had a long night with her friends and is still out. I know I would be.”

“How would you know?” Tim interrupted. “You died before you got to the eleventh grade.”

“You’re one to talk, dropout,” Dick countered, and Damian sighed.

“Richard, you dropped out of college. The only son of Batman who has actually completed an entire bout of schooling is me.”

The three boys turned on him with scowls and retorted, “No one asked you, pipsqueak.” Damian glared back at them.

Bruce rolled his eyes, using the side of his fork to cut into his omelet. “Let’s try not to start a free-for-all here in the breakfast room, please.” He glanced at Alfred. “She’s probably tired from all the ceremonies. Let her sleep.”

Alfred nodded. “Of course, Master Bruce. She should be well rested this evening.”

But when the evening came, Alfred still hadn’t been able to get (Y/N) to unlock her bedroom nor speak to him. He certainly wasn’t worried, but it was off for her to be so reclusive. When Bruce and the boys came back from patrol, he mentioned it to him.

“Miss (Y/N) hasn’t come out from her bedroom, Master Bruce. Nor has she said a single word all day.”

Bruce’s brows furrowed and he tugged the cowl off, rising from the seat at the Batcomputer. “I’ll go check on her,” he replied. “You deal with…” his steel eyes drifted to Dick who had Tim in a headlock and Jason who was giving Damian a noogie. “Them,” he finalized, leaving the poor butler behind.

He knocked on the door to her room and pressed his ear to it. “(Y/N)? You haven’t come out all day. Is everything alright?”

Nothing. Not even a breath.

“(Y/N), are you in there?” he asked again and when he didn’t receive a confirmation, he raised his arm, running his fingers along the doorframe until he touched a small metal piece. He pulled it down and stuck it in the door, wiggling the knob for a second before it clicked, and he opened the door.

“Sweetheart, we’ve been trying to—” Bruce went silent when he saw the kempt room. Bed neatly made, everything organized and put away. Even her clothes hamper was empty.

He blinked and walked into the room, quickly heading to the bathroom to check for her there. It was empty as well, and just as clean, leaving him stunned as he exited the bath.

Wandering over to her desk, he saw an elegant envelope sitting on top of her laptop, his name written in beautiful penmanship. He picked it up and unfolded it, pulling out the multi-page letter. He drew his eyes along the golden lines, reading her words.

Dad,

I don’t really know how to start this letter. Truth be told I’ve written at least six before this one, and even then, I’m not entirely happy with it. But if you’re reading this, I’m not here anymore. I haven’t hurt myself in anyway, you don’t need to worry about Vicki Vale or Jack Ryder reporting the discovery of my body. I mean it in a literal sense—I’m not in Gotham anymore. Neither am I ever coming back.

Don’t think this is your fault. You’re a good father, the best I could’ve been given, and my brothers are good siblings. But the truth is that I’m not fit for this family of heroes. And I never have been. My best when trying to be what all of you are, was never good enough and I’ve spent eighteen years staring at your backs, waiting for you all to realize that I’m still here, that I still matter even if I’m not like you. And I don’t want to feel like a stranger in my own home any longer.

I don’t want you to look for me. I know you will, but I wish you wouldn’t. This isn’t some spur of the moment thing I decided to do the night after graduation. If you look at my bank records, I’ve been withdrawing cash from my savings since freshman year—this is four years of planning, so please understand that I’m doing this because I don’t want to be found—ever.

I’ll leave the story for the media up for you, though I doubt that they’ll care long enough to make a deal of it. It’ll pass like winter does spring and they’ll move on to the next bigger story.

Thank you for everything dad, and good luck with Gotham—keep it safe like you always have. And I hope that one day when you think of me, you won’t feel disappointment. I’ve only ever tried to be something that when you looked down on me, you’d only be proud, and I hope one day I’ll achieve what I always dreamed about. Eighteen is young to be on your own and I’m scared. But I’ll be okay—I always have been.

So do me a favor and don’t spend too much time over this. There are plenty more younger kids that need a parent’s hand on their backs to steady them like you once did for me. Find one and fill my spot. Let them shine brighter than I ever could. Let them be the one worthy to be a Wayne—I know I never was.

-(Y/N)

Bruce barely had time to grasp the back of her chair to keep himself from falling to his knees in shock. The letter was clenched in his hand and his lungs wouldn’t take in air like he wanted them to, his heart aching with each palpitation. He looked around the room to her dresser drawers, willing the strength into his legs to moved over to it. He opened every drawer and to his astonishment, they were empty. Hurrying to the bathroom, he noticed the drawers in there were empty as well. She was really gone. And he had no idea what to do.

***

Tears were in Dick’s eyes when he finished the letter and he looked up at her. “How could you ever think we didn’t care about you, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t want to have this conversation. She didn’t want to sit there and explain every time she asked her brothers if they wanted to do something with her and they conveniently had something else to do. Didn’t want to explain every school and extracurricular performance that went unattended and left a little girl standing in front of a crowd barely managing to stave off the tears as she bowed and thanked them for coming. She didn’t want to remember all the memories that chipped away at her heart with every disappointment that occurred. All she wanted to do was leave.

(Y/N) had earlier returned to her original position, hands in her lap and she clenched her fists until her nails bit into the skin of her palms, eyes directed anywhere but Dick’s.

“I think it’s time we call this little reunion done,” she said, standing to her feet. “We’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Not if you run again,” Jason muttered, unconsciously wiping a tear from his eye.

She pointed at him, hissing, “I didn’t run the first time, Jason. I left. On my own accord.”

“You ran instead of coming to us, (Y/N),” Tim said, and she threw her hands above her head in disbelief.

“What the fuck did you want me to do! Wander down into the cave and beg at your feet for someone to pay attention to me! To at least pretend like I was a sister! I did! Every day!”

(Y/N) picked up her purse and yanked it up her arm. “Cassandra seems to be fitting in better than I did. So go and dote on her as the younger sibling. I’m not interested in the position anymore.”

“It’s not a competition,” Dick explained. “We love you just as much as we love Cass.”

She paused and gazed at him, voice laced with disappointment as she disagreed, “Then you should make sure she’s content in the manor, because if you love her with any semblance of how you loved me? It’s not at all.”

Her eyes shifted to Wally’s. “Fix the elevator. Now.”

He stayed seated for a moment, the two of them staring each other down, then he nodded wordlessly and moved to the elevator, starting it again. Her family stayed seated, and she gave them one final look before she followed Wally, silently waiting for the doors to open.

When they did, she stepped inside and turned around, hitting the button. Just before the doors closed, Wally stopped them and murmured, “You’re making a mistake.”

“My worst mistake was becoming friends with you.” (Y/N) blinked at him, then reached up and shoved his hand away from the door and as it closed, she remarked coldly, “And you can go to hell for all I care.”

644 notes · View notes

fckwritersblock · 3 years

Text

The Other Sinclair

Stranger Things; Black!reader x Everybody

Description: Lucas’ older sister gets back in town and is not very happy to hear about the events that took place. Especially when it comes to someone putting their hands on her little brother.

Warnings: I mean.....mild violence, but again this page is 18+ so y’all be aite

(Unedited .)

“5 minutes Lucas! I leave you guys for 5 got damn minutes and everything goes to shit!”

Y/n was livid.

It wasn’t really anyone’s intention for her to find out. Lucas knew better than to involve her unless he really needed to. If there was one thing she didn’t play about it with her family. It would’ve all been fine too, however when Y/n saw Steve, she asked what happened to his face and he couldn’t help but blurt everything out. Now, being that she was included in all the events the previous year it didn’t come as a surprise that the moment she left for 2 weeks for the cheerleading competition they’d get themselves into more shit.

“I just want to know what made him think he could put his hands on you!”

Now she knew about the new kid and his rivalry with Steve. That was purely their egos and a mess full of entirely too much testosterone and high school cliche for her to bother with. That would come to pass as Steve was proving to be less and less of asshole everyday. But to hear Steve’s face, though healing, looked like that as a result of protection her little brother and the rest of the kids..

No, ma’am.

“Was anyone gonna tell me?” She fussed at the preteens.

“It’s over, we handled it.” Lucas groaned knowing his words were falling on deaf ears.

“Uh huh. I’m sure.” The elder Sinclair rolled her eyes, arms crossed and hip poked out. “And this Billy kid is related to who? Your little girlfriend right?”

Y/n’s gaze quickly shifted to the girl in question.

“Yeah. H-hi. I’m Max.”

Y/n said nothing, just continued to stare and assess the child. Finally she smiled.

“Max, you look like a sweet kid and I really don’t wanna not like you. So spill. What’s his deal?”

Max twiddled her fingers only hesitated for a moment before she gave her boyfriend‘s sister the backstory on her stepbrother and his dad. Giving her a little bit of detail about how he also felt about black people.

“Interesting. And where can I find this Hargrove?” Y/n inquired.

“The arcade.” Max answered.

Nodding she went over to the front door of the Sinclair residence and opened the door.

“Ma, I’m taking the boys to the arcade with Steve.”

Barely take time to get a response, she grabbed her house keys off the hook and closed the door behind her.

“Y/n I don’t think-“ Steve began but she cut him of.

“Don’t hurt yourself doing that.”

“This isn’t a good idea.” Lucas mumbled.

“I don’t remember asking you.” Y/n replied.

“I forgot that’s where Erica gets it-“ Dustin commented in a failed attempt to whisper.

“Shut up Dustin. Everybody in the car.” She snatched the keys from Steve. “And I’m driving.”

The ride to the arcade was quiet, everyone afraid to speak as Y/n drove them the short distance a little quicker than usual. Soon as they pulled up, she parked randomly and they all hopped out.

“Where is he?”

Max looked around before pointing him out.

Once Y/n laid eyes on him she scoffed before rolling them. There stood Billy Hargrove leaning against his car with Tommy and a few girls fawning over him. He looked like the king of douche bags like he had some grade A daddy issues. Any other time she’d feel for him, but he did the one thing he shouldn’t have and that was a mess with her little brother.

“Hold these.” She practically shoved her pompoms in Steve’s hands before heading for Billy.

“Babe,” but the look y/n gave Steve shut him up.

All The kids followed her protesting the entire way trying to get her to change their mind scared of what Billy might do to her regardless of the deal he made with Max. After all, she was just a stranger approaching him in a hostile way, and the gang expected nothing more than for him to react in true Billy. Steve on the other hand, was preparing to possibly receive another busted lip if Billy decided to retaliate and even think about raising his hand to her. He’d go out fighting again if need be. However Y/n wasn’t scared.

Less than a few feet away she bawled her fist, feeling all the anger toward the white boy surface.

“Hey asshole!”

He barely spared them a glance before doing a double take. Once he spotted his sister and her friends a cocky smirk planted itself on his face.

“Well well if it isn’t the losers-“ y/n held up her hand to silence him, her steps coming to a halt.

“You Billy Hargrove?” She pretended to smile flirtatiously.

“Who’s asking princess?” He asked with a cocky smirk, giving her a once over.

“Y/n Sinclair.” And with that Y/n cocked her arm back and punch him squads in face.

“Well, shit.”, Dustin said as the rest of the party gasped.

Wow they didn’t hear a crack or anything, they could see Billy’s now blooded nose, leaking while he grabbed it.

“Fuck! You bitch!” He quickly got in Y/n’s face to where she took a step closer staring up at him.

“I dare you.” Y/n challenged not even flinching as his nostrils flared and fist balled at his side as if he was thinking about retaliating.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but put your hands on my little brother,” she pointed at Lucas. “Again and I promise you’ll have bigger problems when my brother and daddy gets a hold of you and yours.”

“Brother?” Billy repeated sounding surprised.

“Howard Star QB.” She smirked.

Anthony Sinclair was older than Y/n by two years. Currently not present since he was off at Howard University but that could all change with a phone call from her or Erica.

“Are we clear?” She asked crossing her arms.

Billy continued to glare at her as he held his blooded nose, but nodded nonetheless.

“Manners, William. Use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off.”

“Glad we’re on the same page Willy.” She smiled before turning back toward the kids who all continued to stare in shock.

“Are you sure Mrs. Wheeler is picking you up?”

“Yeah-“ they chorused.

“Mom.” Dustin added.

“Good! I’ll see you at home Luke. Bye guys.” She smiled taking her pom poms from Steve and heading to his car.

“Oh. And don’t touch Steve either.” She called over her shoulder. “He’s also mine.”

“Wow,” spoke El and Max in awe

“She’s scary when she’s mad.” Mike commented.

“Yeah.” Steve agreed. “And hot.”

“Very hot.” Dustin added earning a punch in the arm from Lucas and A hit upside the head from Steve

“Come on Harrington.” Y/n beckoned from the passenger seat. “This ice cream isn’t going to pay for itself.”

The teenager grinned to himself goofily as he headed toward his car.

“Yes ma’am!”

#steve harrington #stranger things imagine #billy hargove imagine #billy Hargrove #billy harrington #stranger things #black!reader #Steve Harrington x black!reader #writers on tumblr

922 notes · View notes

blackenedwhite97 · 3 years

Text

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

#polyerasermic #eraserhead #erasermic #erasermic x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x aizawa #eraserhead x reader x present mic #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #myhero #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha fanfiction #y/n x mha #y/n x bnha

463 notes · View notes