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#The bats shouldn't have broken in
rboooks · 10 months
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The bakery is a front....right? PART 4
Dedicated to @foxy-tea. Thank you for your lovely words!
Danny didn't want to do it, but he had to admit that his mating season peak had arrived and could not work in that condition. It wasn't that Danny was like a cat in heat, wanting to engage in intercourse all the time.
No, his body craved a life partner and a child to smother in fierce paternal love. It was a bit worse if you asked him. If he just manwhore his way through the city over three months, well, they would just whisper about how easy he was.
A bit embarrassing but not uncommon for someone with Danny's good looks.
Instead, his mating season made him a would-be kidnapper.
He had to physically slam a hot pot of coffee on his hand a week ago when a customer had walked in with a baby, and Phantom had tried to leap over the counter to take the babbling bundle of joy as his own.
Not to mention how Phantom reacted to some of his youngest delivery employees. He hadn't realized he was mumbling "Mine. mine. mine. mine. mine" while approaching Manolo for his latest delivery until Peter had stepped into his path with the dirtiest glare Danny had ever seen.
The punch to his throat hadn't knocked the wind out of him- since Phantom had stopped his breathing three days prior - but it was enough to get Danny out of the daydreams of tucking Manolo into bed after a cup of tea and a bedtime story.
We could teach him to bake. We can teach him to ride a bike. We can sit through all his school performances, no matter how bad they are. We could be his dad. Phantom had cried as Manolo had thrown himself between Peter and Danny, his little arms spread wide to protect him. Let me have the child! Manolo is mine! He's mine to love, mine to protect!
Danny had never had such trouble getting Phantom to settle.
In seconds, Peter was quickly surrounded by Andres' friends and the rest of Danny's staff. He had taken a fighter position, looking around like an animal about to maul its victims while Danny wrestled with himself to get control.
He and Phantom are not two separate personalities fighting for control but one person with conflicting instincts.
One of a human's most basic instincts is self-preservation. A ghost's most basic instinct is self-fulfillment.
Danny did not want things to become a free-for-all where someone could get hurt. Phantom tried to fight them all to claim the kids under his protection.
Thankfully, everything was deescalated by Jazz's timely arrival. Danny couldn't really remember what she had done (too busy struggling to hold himself as a human and not go ghost to become the most excellent dad to ever dad). Still, if there was one gift Jazz had, it was being able to reason with spirits about their obsessions.
If she could convince beings whose entire existence depended on being stubborn about a particular subject, she could persuade humans of anything.
Peter had been allowed to leave with no injuries, and even two days paid off, while the rest had realized that the man had just acted out of PTSD due to what Jazz called "projecting trauma in safe settings."
There were a lot of people in this area that understood what PTSD episodes did to them and had not faulted Petter. Manolo even gave Peter a small crocheted fox to help him overcome the fear.
(Danny had given the small fox plushy to Manolo when the kid first arrived at his bakery, proclaiming it had a protective spell to keep fear away. He had yet to be aware the boy carried around with him.)
Jazz had then taken Danny to his apartment, where she had placed him in quarantine. She had been informed by Frost Bite during their bi-weekly mentor/protegee meetings- Jazz was studying under the Yeti in Ghost Psychology- that Danny's Peak had arrived. Danny would jack up his "I need to be a dad" and "I need to be a husband" urges to Fruitloop levels.
Danny would try to force someone into that role if he was around humans or ghosts, even if it was against their will. Ugh, he would be a Vlad 2.0 for a full two weeks!
He could not risk himself around others. So with a heavy heart, he informed his employees he would be stepping away for a two-week long vacation and had made it seem like he left on a plane to visit Jazz overseas.
His staff would take care of the bakery for him, but it saddened Danny he could not be there to help with things. He then sealed off all entries to his apartment and informed the residents of the Ghost zone he was in, "Mating Peak retreat," so no one would bother him past a few already mated servants of the Ghost King.
They would bring him supplies and requests through a no-contact portal once he ordered them through a magical catalog. It was like online shopping for ghosts.
Danny now had to wait two weeks for this to finally go away, and he could go about his ordinary daily life of being perfectly dead and alive. Until it happened again the following year.
Elli told him to be grateful it was only a yearly thing, not a monthly deal. He shuddered at the mere thought of experiencing this every month.
Done! Phantom cheers snapping Danny back to reality. In his hands are a pair of freshly crocheted booties. He hadn't even been aware he was making them.
They look great, Danny tells Phantom, turning them in his hands to smile at the giant sunflowers on each side. A button was used as the center of the flowers, and Phantom even included a few lace designs around them to look like leaf vines.
They are based on the park's flowers.
The park?
Yes, the park where you promised to take me today! Phantom goes from calmly talking to screaming, and Danny winces.
You know I can't go outside. You'll just try to steal a child from the park.
I would never forget to also steal a wife or husband!
Danny sighs, rubbing his face knowing he was telling himself that forgetting a spouse was worse than the idea of kidnapping people. He places the booties on top of an ever-growing pile. Since his quarantine has begun, Danny has made about two hundred pairs of various styles, sizes, and colors.
Danny looks around at the piles and piles of other of his crocheting projects. He's got sweaters, scarves, gloves, socks, hats, beanies, and even blazers for various genders, ages, and styles meant to help with the coldest winter. He could adequately dress his whole street and still have some left over.
All prepared for his nonexisting family.
He has been making them at the same speed he can fly, i.e., 200 mph. He's made some yarn dealers in the zone extremely wealthy. He can't help it, though. Danny has frozen every inch of his apartment too far too cold levels for an average human without proper wear.
He's been working fast because his human mind knew that the cold was terrible for his lover and children, so it wanted to keep them nice and warm. While his ghost side added layers of snow to the floor and ice to the walls, he even made decorative ice sculptures that he desperately reorganized again and again to find the perfect balance of the cold. Only his electronics were not frozen over, so even his furniture had layers of ice- some with designs to make them look fancier.
He's also cooked up a storm in preparation for feeding his family. Only to realize a spouse and kids were not coming, thus forcing him to donate his meals to the ghost delivery people. They were ever so happy to have five-course meals shoved at them just for bringing the king more yarn.
Danny throws himself face-first into the pile of snow from his couch, allowing the softness to cushion his fall. There is a terrible itch under the skin. It's begging him to leave to find someone to kiss and worship. Unwillingly, Alvin's face appears in his mind before he turns over and stares at his ceiling. He's made all the constellations into small carvings on the ice. I can't go outside. I can watch another movie or make more bagels instead.
Watching another romance movie won't bring me a mate! Phantom hisses.
I know but-
Suddenly Danny senses flair as someone crosses over his wards. Sitting up in alarm, Danny makes a break for his room as even more people join the first and break into his guest room through a window. Not that he can't take whoever they are, but if he comes face to face with them-well, Danny thinks he may keep them.
That's not something he's willing to risk.
Phantom is already throwing out some severe pheromones that would likely infatuate them to Danny, babbling about this being their chance. Four adults- spouses!- and a child- a son or daughter!- have entered their main haunt. They had to give them food and warm clothes and cuddle them until they never left!
No!
He can't force them to stay!
He had to make them stay even if it meant chaining them!
No, they would be miserable!
Phantom could make them happy forever!
The effort to stay in his human control took so much effort Danny started to aggressively twitch as he fumbled with the hidden room in the back of an old wardrobe. He's breathing heavily, trying to get his blurry vision to focus so he can open the darn thing and get in. Finally, it does, and Danny just barely closes it when a figure bursts through the door.
He watches through a small crack as the figure carefully looks over his frozen domain. It's one of the vigilantes. Red Robin.
What is he doing here?
The man walks into his room, leaving behind disruptive snow that goes up his ankles.
Thank the Ancients, his footprints do not appear in his own snow. Otherwise, a perfect trail would lead the hero straight to him. Instead, he watches with a hand over his mouth as Red Robin carefully searches his room.
Danny cuts off his need to breathe as the sound would give him away. Still, he's twitching so much that he's practically shaking as the hero carefully breaks the ice over his drawers and pulls out his clothes in quick, careful movements.
Go away. Go away. Go away. Danny thinks desperately. He should have tried calling someone. Jazz. Ellie. Even his parents or Vlad!
None of them would cause his instincts to want to force them to play house- though he would likely still try to imprison them since he would like to protect them non the less.
But they could at least do something and get the poor vigilante somewhere safe!
Never leave. Never leave. Never leave. Phantom purrs, and oh no, an intense burst of pheromones is sent through the room. Red Robin freezes; from what little Danny can see of his face, it's flushed red, and gosh, he wants to smother that man in so much love-
"Guys, I think I came in contact with the drug," Red Robin pants after pressing his hand to his ear. "I don't know how, but I am definitely feeling something. Think it's airborne, but not sure."
He doesn't finish his sentence before Redhood and Nightwing are suddenly in his room. Nightwing has a gas mask over his face while Red Hood swings a gun around the room, looking for a target.
Danny almost whines at the gentle way Nightwing helps Red Robin into a sitting position. He's looking him over with such loving protection that he- that Danny- Phantom wants him- wants a husband-!
"Shit," Red Hood hisses, body pushing back as if some strong wind had hit him. "Yeah, it's definitely in this room. Felt a bit of it, even with my built-in filters. Wing?"
"Did the room get colder?" Nightwing asks as he helps Red Robbin to his feet. The other man seems to be feeling better with his gas mask, but he must still be effect by Phantom's pheromones.
"The wardrobe." Red Robin gasps, pointing unknowingly right at Danny. "The ice around it is getting bigger. And...it's leaking."
What? Danny looks down only to see in horror a knocked-over jar of fresh ectoplasm. He hadn't even been aware he had broken the thing when he crawled here.
The jars were the ones that he gathered with Jazz and Ellie after a three-day foraging trip. All ghosts were made of Ecoplasim, but just like you couldn't stick blood into someone without being comparable, you couldn't use any random ectoplasm for other people- humans or ghosts.
It had to be some of the purest natural kind, not linked to any type of beings, like a river of ectoplasm or the frozen pillars in the farthest parts of the Far Frozen. Giving someone ectoplasm from one's body could taint them in the donator's obsession.
Yes, Danny could make more people protective of each other, but it would likely cause them to be Fruitloop-level protective. They just didn't have the filter like he did to not go mad.
That pure kind was now leaking out of his hiding place and into the white snow of his main lair.
Danny only has a second to panic before the door is wrenched open, and he falls into a stunned Red Robin.
He goes limp from the shock as Phantom purrs, settling in his mind now that he's pressed against a possible mate. Like Danny said, it's not intercourse his ghost side is after, it's close contact, and this is enough to satisfy it.
"Shit, it's Danny. He-he's not breathing, and he's ice cold. I think he's de-dead." Red Robin says in what sounds like tears.
No. My husband is sad. Danny and Phantom think, a terrible pulse of pain bursting across his chest. He can't get his body to move to offer comfort, though. It's been a whole week since he last saw someone in person, and this is so nice. Why did he ever fight this instinct? It felt so good to give in.
He could stay in Red Robin's arms forever.
Red Robin was never going to see the clear sky again. He was never leaving this apartment.
"I found something," Red Hood's voice is behind him. "It looks like it is Lazarus' water, but it's clearer. I think this is our drug. Danny must have ODed."
"No! He can't- we have to do something!" Red Robin cries, and Danny slumps further against him like a broken doll. He's not blinking. Blinking is for humans. Danny isn't a human.
His unfocused eyes stare at wherever Red Robin has him positioned to look.
"There is nothing we can do, Red Robin," A new voice says though not unkindly. Phantom doesn't turn his head but can see Batman walk up behind Red Robin, wearing his gas mask. He places his hand on the trembling vigilante. "You need to put him down."
"No!" Phantom purs as the arms around his shoulders bring them closer to his husband's body.
"It's too late for him, Drake. We can only honor his death."
That....that was a voice of a child. A child is in his main haunt.
Phantom wails in joy.
He gets out of his husband's arms, leaping over Batman, and his arms are around a boy in red, green, and yellow. Phantom smothers his face against the hood covering the boy's head, and short sobs rank his body. "My baby! You're my baby!"
"Unhand me!" His little grunts slamming a knife into Phantom's side, but that doesn't matter because Phantom has his son and his husband in his nest.
A bullet harmlessly passes through his forehead after a loud bang, creating a hole in Phantom's wall. He'll take care of that after he smothers his baby in cuddles.
Nightwing swings a baton at Phantom, but that, too, passes through his body without harm.
"Shit! Danny put him down!"
Huh, was that Sam?
"Danny, I mean it. Drop him!"
Oh, Tucker too!
"Daniel Fenton, you let that boy go right now!" Jazz sounded upset. Maybe she should hold his baby. "Are you listening to me?"
"Danny is not here right now." He hears his body say.
"Ohhhhh. That's not good. Okay, Danny time for a nap!" Ellie flies into his face, her hand glowing green and he has a moment to gasp at the betrayal before she blasts him.
He drops, knowing no more.
(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), (Part 5)
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Danny and Ellie had majorly screwed up. Now here they were in the hydro-electric car Danny had designed for applying to Wayne industries/whoever would give a fifteen year old a fat paycheck, sitting in the middle of Gotham, at night, surrounded by glaring bats.
Crap.
Time to bullshit his way out of this.
He looked at Red Robin and sheepishly grinned, "...hi dad."
Ellie, the little gremlin, didn't even hesitate before adding, "We are so grounded. I told you we shouldn't have messed with the broken time machine but nooo."
The bats were either taken about or cackling and Danny to this chance to put the petal to the metal and get out of there
Tim is now obsessed with finding his future kids.
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evilminji · 3 months
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*Gasp of joy* Brain, you shouldn't have!
You know how the Wayne's have basicly been the ONLY Good And Uncorrupt Wealthy Family in Gotham? And probably fuckin curse resistant AF because otherwise, HOW!? (No, seriously, the local magical population is baffled but impressed!)
....you....you wanna bet at least a few of those suckers died thinking "but I haven't completed my orphan hospital for sickly waifish puppy's and sad eyed children, yet! I... must... save... THE CHILDREN! *le dies (×.× ) * " to the tune of their beautiful (and somehow bizarrely benevolent and well adjusted) families weeping at their bedsides.
Whoop! There's a ghost! Hello, Mr. Wayne.
(Why does this Keep Happening? Please have LESS unfinished bussiness. You're supposed to be rich. Stop trying to help people ON YOUR DEATH BEDS! FFS.)
I say all this? Beeeecause~?
( >.>)(<.< )
Allright! Time to come clean, folks! Which side of the family lead to our descendant dressing up in a Kevlar BAT SUIT!!? Throwing himself off buildings in the middle of the night. Cavorting around with Amazons!
We aren't even mad about the last one! We're actually deeply and respectfully impressed! But who pulled THAT off? Angela? That yours? (*shrug* I mean... probably? It DOES seem like something my daughter would do...)
So like?
Imagine Danny~.
Trying to eat his generic brand cereal. IN HIS Underwear. When? All these Fancy Ghosts show up to his A College Kid's, Baby's First, Crap Apartment(TM). He's eating on a pillow on the floor for God's sake. It's too early for this! C'mon guys...
But, no.
They want permission to go Haunt their Descendant.
Danny sighs. He can already FEEL his cereal going soggy. This is gonna take a while, ain't it? Okay... okay, WHO is you offspring, what did they do, and for how long? You know the rules, guys.
Then they hit him with the oh so casual "BTW he's Fuckin Batman".
YOU WANT TO WHAT!?
(They convince him. How? He couldn't tell you. It's... is? Is this what It's like meeting a Fenton? For other people? Huh. He always thought people were exaggerating...)
Which? Is how a dead Victorian Old Man has arrived to ABSOLUTELY tear this Trouble Making Youngster a new one, in front of his little friends! Just full on full names him. Oh, OH! The broken BONES! The BRUISES! Have you no regard for your poor ancestors health! Their fragile hearts! Trying to put us in the grave AGAIN, are you?! Why in MY DAY-!!!
(Nightwing? Recording this for Alfred. It's gonna be an early birthday present~)
@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe
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rogueddie · 5 months
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It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.
He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.
He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.
He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.
It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.
Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.
He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.
He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.
He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.
He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.
"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"
"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.
"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"
"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."
"Are you dyeing it again?"
"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."
"You can get box dye at-"
"I'm not using box dye."
"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"
Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.
Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.
When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.
"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.
"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"
But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.
"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.
"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"
"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."
"Oh."
Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.
"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.
"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."
He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.
"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.
"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"
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dotster001 · 8 months
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Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?
Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol
A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭
CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂
3k follower masterlist
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No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.
So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…
"Fuck!"
No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.
"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt.  They are intended to protect the rose!"
"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.
"Sorry?"
You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin. 
"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"
He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.
"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and  giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.
He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.
"What are you doing?!?"
"Fighting crime!"
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He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.
"Oy, Herbivore!"
Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.
"Oh! You're awake!"
"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."
You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.
"Oh, sorry."
You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.
He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.
"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."
You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.
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This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…
"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.
What had you done?
You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.
Call it stupid curiosity.
"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.
"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."
He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.
"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."
"My hand hurts too much," you whined.
"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."
You looked at the fine print before grimacing.
"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"
Azul groaned a massaged his temples. 
"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."
You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.
"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."
"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.
"I know," he lamented.
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His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity. 
But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.
You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.
You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.
"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."
"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.
"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.
"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.
He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.
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Crash
Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.
"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.
He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.
He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.
"Don't touch another one."
You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.
Ten minutes later, he heard it.
Crash
He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.
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"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out! 
He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,
"Fuck!" 
He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.
"What's wrong?" 
You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad. 
"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.
"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.
Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.
"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.
You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.
"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."
"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.
"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.
"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.
You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"
Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.
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Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.
It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.
"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."
Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.
It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.
"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."
"So shiny! Must touch!"
He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.
He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.
"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.
"I wasn't done," you muttered.
He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.
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roosterforme · 1 year
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Batting Practice Part 13 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You don't show up to the game the next day, and Bradley has to face Molly's wrath when she comes in your place. His heart is broken as he feels the consequences of his words, but he finally realizes just how much you and Everett mean to him. Then he sees you at Everett's Career Day, but you're not making it easy on him.
Warnings: Angst, swearing
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Bradley sat up most of the night in his sad apartment, sipping on a bottle of bourbon and feeling like a prize asshole. He had finally found a woman he thought he could settle down with, thought the three of you could maybe be a family, but he managed to fuck all of it up before you were even properly dating him.
This was just so on brand for him, it was laughable. Every bad decision that could be made about women, well he made them. He just had to go spouting off for weeks on end that he didn't date moms with baggage, and now Jake had made everything blow up in his face. 
The problem was, Bradley actually had said all of that shit, but that was before he really got to know you and Everett. It made him sick now to think about the implications of what he had said. 
You hated him now. He knew you must. He had managed to hurt your feelings so deeply, he didn't know if you would ever look at him again. But the truth was, Bradley was the one with all the baggage. He was the one who didn't know how to make the right decisions. He was the one who made everything too complicated. Not you. Not Everett. The two of you were perfect. And he thought for a moment that he could have you. But now he knew he had been wrong again.
And there was no doubt in his mind that Carole Bradshaw would be so disappointed in him right now. Because she would have reacted the same way that you had. She would have stood up for her only son and protected him no matter what.
He groaned as he got to his feet, swaying as he set down his half empty bottle of alcohol on the kitchen counter. He needed to get it together and make it to the tee ball game in six hours. 
You would be there! He could try to talk to you then. Unless you kept Everett home instead. Bradley felt like crying, so he just dragged himself to his bed and passed out with his uniform pants still on.
Bradley's alarm barely woke him up as he dragged his sandpaper tongue across his teeth and moaned. His head was throbbing, but he managed to get up and get right in the shower at the prospect of seeing you. He didn't have time to shave or eat, but he did make it to the ballfield early, just in case.
"You look like shit," Bob told him, and his expression was something akin to disappointment.
Bradley closed his eyes briefly. "I feel worse. Promise."
"Did you talk to her?" Bob asked. Bradley wasn't exactly sure how much everyone knew. He hadn't stayed at the bar for very long after you left, preferring to drink at home alone. Chalk that up to another poor decision made. 
"She doesn't want to talk to me. I'm such an idiot."
Bob just kind of shrugged as he set things up for their game against the Tiny Blue Jays. "Molly is angry, too," Bob informed him. "She's barely texted me back since yesterday." 
Now Bradley felt even worse, because Bob's relationship with your sister shouldn't have to be the collateral damage of his word vomit. "I'm so sorry."
"I'll figure it out," Bob mumbled. "And you need to apologize to Team Mom until she forgives you. Did you tell her that you said all of that stuff a long time ago? You barely even knew her then."
"Yeah, but I still said it," Bradley replied, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. "And between the slap to my face and the valid points she was yelling at me, I didn't get a chance to try to explain myself. But she's not going to want to hear it anyway."
Then Bradley's heart was skipping erratically in his chest, making his head throb more. When he saw Everett in his blue uniform, he squinted against the sunlight and almost took off running. But it wasn't you. It was Molly. And she looked pissed as hell. 
"I'll be right back," Bob mumbled and headed for her instead. Which was fine with Bradley, because now something much worse was happening. Everett was bounding toward him, and he didn't know how he was supposed to react. He just braced himself for the pain.
"Hi, Coach Bradley! See? I remembered to call you Coach Bradley instead of just Bradley since it's a tee ball day. When can we go back to the park again?"
Bradley wanted to cry. "Hey, kiddo. I missed you all week when I was away." And that was the honest truth. 
Everett just shrugged. "Practice was still fun, because my mom made it funny. And we won our last game, even though you weren't there. Do you think you can still win Coach of the Year if you missed a game?"
Bradley reached for Everett and pulled him in for a brief hug while Molly glared at him right past Bob's elbow. 
"Where's your mom, kiddo? Is she coming?"
Everett shook his head. "No, she was crying this morning, even though she didn't want me to know it. She does that sometimes, but it's usually only right after we see my dad."
Fuck. Bradley made you cry as hard as Danny did. Just when he thought he couldn't possibly feel worse, the honest words from a first grader twisted the knife a little deeper. Bradley had assured you that he was better than both Frank and Danny, but he was actually the worst one of the bunch. 
"You want me to help you with your cleats?" Bradley asked, and soon he was changing Everett's shoes while Molly kissed Bob on the cheek. He felt a tiny bit better that maybe he didn't fuck things up for Bob as well as himself. But then Everett said something that made him want to drink another bottle of bourbon and pass out. 
"Coach Bradley, are you still excited for the Phillies game next weekend?"
Bradley froze with the laces halfway tired on Everett's right shoe. He swallowed hard; in all of his fucking up, Bradley had forgotten about the upcoming game. He was going to have to disappoint Everett, because there was no way you would let him take your son to the game now. 
But he didn't know what to say other than, "So excited, kiddo." Then he sent Everett to start warming up while he pulled out his phone and tried to call you again. Voicemail. A second time. Voicemail. He'd left you so many messages already, but he decided to leave another one.
"Kitten. I'm sorry. I miss you. Please, Kitten. Please, call me back."
Bradley was surprised the Tiny Eagles managed to win the game. He was having such a hard time focusing as Molly's glare was burning a hole in his back. But every time he turned toward her, she was looking elsewhere. When the game ended, he took off in her direction, leaving Bob to clean everything up. 
"Where is she? Is she okay? Is she at home?" he asked Molly, who was finally looking directly at him as she stood up. 
"That's none of your business," she said, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her, but he was going to try anyway.
"Molly, listen, I fucked up. I said that shit before I really knew her. Before I really knew what I wanted."
She crossed her arms over her chest, and the look on her face had Bradley taking a step backwards. "You called Everett baggage," she hissed as her eyes flashed. And if her sister was a Kitten, then Molly was a feral street cat that desperately wanted to give Bradley rabies. 
"Please, I'm begging you. Will you talk to her for me? Ask her to call me back?"
Molly's harsh laugh had him feeling hopeless. "She doesn't owe you anything, and neither do I. She's not your girlfriend. And now she's never going to be your girlfriend."
"Molly! What do I have to do to get her to talk to me?" Bradley asked, ready to beg on his knees for the chance to explain himself. "I made a mistake. But I care about her. And Ev."
Molly shook her head sadly at him. "Even Frank wasn't this bad. At least he didn't mind that she has a son. Who, by the way, is the sweetest child in existence." Now Molly looked like she was going to cry.
Bradley took his hat off and balled it up in his hands. He realized he probably looked insane right now, but he just needed to know how to get you to listen. "I can explain myself to her. I'll beg her to listen to me. I'll bring more flowers and more baseball cards for Ev. I'll-"
Molly cut him off with a jab of her index finger to his chest. "You can bring all the flowers and cards you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you're not good enough for her. You're not good enough for them!"
His voice was soft now, because he knew she was right. "Molly, please help me talk to her."
"You know, she wants to pull Ev from the team," Molly replied, picking up his gear bag as he ran over. Bradley felt sick; he wouldn't get to see you or Everett anymore. "The only reason she's not going to pull him is because of the friends he's made, and because she's a better person than you. But she thought about it. I hope you know you hurt her that bad."
Everett plopped down on the bench, and Bradley watched Molly instantly switch modes and turn into the loving aunt that she normally was. He really was bringing out the worst in everyone right now. 
When Everett was all ready to leave, and he and Molly were heading for her car, Bradley jogged up next to him. "Kiddo? Can you tell your mom something for me?"
"Sure, Coach," he replied, smiling up at Bradley like he always did. 
Molly was staring daggers at him again as he said, "Tell her I was wrong before, but now I have my priorities straight."
"Come on, Ev," Molly told him, taking him by the hand and pulling him along. "We need to go."
Bradley knew he wasn't like Danny or Frank, and he just needed an opportunity to prove it. But he didn't want to upset Everett who was looking back at him with wide eyes. "Tell her I miss her, and I can't wait to see her next time! Bye, Kiddo!"
"Bye, Coach!"
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Luckily Molly was working overnight tonight and offered to take Everett to his game, because you were in no way ready to see Bradley today. Your heart was actually broken, and you were just so embarrassed. 
Your kid's hot tee ball coach. Could you possibly be any more predictable? Any more of a chiche?
You were still in your pajamas forcing down some toast when Molly brought Everett back home around noon. "We ate lunch," she told you. "Everett wanted the baseball Happy Meal toy."
"Thanks," you mumbled, knowing that your little sister who spent the night holding your hand wouldn't judge you for looking like a mess right now.
"Mommy, are you sick today?" Ev asked, and your heart sank.
"Yeah, Ev. I'm not feeling great."
He set his Happy Meal toy down and started taking off his shoes. "I know what will make you feel better! Coach said he missed you! And he can't wait to see you next time. And that he has his prior tires straight."
Molly sighed and shook her head. "He means priorities."
"Yeah. Priorities," Everett said, agreeing with her. 
You felt like crying all over again, and now your phone was vibrating with another call from him. You ignored it as Molly told Everett to grab a snack and eat it out on the back deck. Once he was out of earshot, you told your sister, "He keeps calling and texting me. I don't understand why he cares so much, since I'm clearly a joke to him and all of his friends."
Molly sprawled out on your couch. "He actually seems upset, and I am telling you that begrudgingly, because I want to hate him."
You twisted your fingers together, afraid to know, but you asked anyway. "Did he say anything to you?" 
"Yeah," Molly said with a laugh. "Plenty. He begged me to get you to talk to him. I honestly thought he was going to plead on his knees. He said he made a mistake, and he doesn't feel that way now at all."
Oh. Well that was interesting. Your phone vibrated again. 
"And Bob said Bradley is an idiot, but he didn't think he was actually trying to hurt you," Molly added. "Of course I also asked Bob if he knew that Bradley felt like kids were baggage and moms were a waste of time."
"What did he say?" you whispered, setting your phone down before you caved and answered it.
"Bob said he would find it hard to believe that Bradley actually felt that way now, based on how much he loves you and Everett. He used those words, not me."
Your heart was pounding as your doorbell rang, and Molly sprang up to answer it. "Oh, shit," Molly mumbled as she carried several huge bouquets of colorful flowers into the kitchen.
As you opened the card attached to the first one you picked up, your eyes went wide. All of the cards said the same thing, written in Bradley's handwriting. 
I'm so sorry, Kitten. You and Everett are NOT baggage. You're perfect. I didn't mean it. Please, talk to me.
"Well, you don't need all of these flowers, so I'm taking some to my apartment," Molly said, kissing your cheek as she scooped up a few bouquets. "I'll come by in the morning after work."
And then she was gone, and you were sitting inside a massive floral display with very mixed emotions. 
-----------------------------
Bradley went home and drank the rest of Saturday away until he was asleep. If Molly wasn't willing to help him, and he could understand why she wasn't, then he would have to figure this out on his own. Because at this point, he didn't know what he was going to do without you and Everett. He needed you. He needed to fix this. 
On Sunday morning, he took a shower and got himself cleaned up. Two days of looking like a disaster was enough, so he dumped the rest of the bourbon down the drain as well. Then he grabbed the one thing he needed and drove to your house, nervous as hell that you wouldn't answer the door for him even if you were home.
He parked behind Molly's car and sighed. She was acting as your bodyguard right now, that's how badly he had fucked up. Either you or Molly didn't want you to be left alone. He climbed out of his Bronco with the binder tucked under his arm, and he made his way up to your front porch.
Before he could even knock, the door swung open to reveal an exhausted looking Molly in wrinkled scrubs holding a cup of coffee. "What do you want now?" she asked, and Bradley stood back far enough that she would probably miss him if she tossed the coffee. 
"Will you please tell her I'm here?"
"She's not home," Molly replied coolly. 
"Her car is in the driveway," he replied.
Molly sighed. "She's soaking in the tub, and she doesn't want to talk to you."
Bradley ran his hand over his face, unsure how much he should push. But then Everett came bounding out onto the porch and into Bradley's arms.
"Coach! I mean Bradley! What are you doing here? The Phillies game isn't until next Sunday! And Career Day isn't until Wednesday!"
Bradley's heart clenched with need. If he couldn't take Everett to the Phillies game, he didn't know what he would do. The kid would be crushed, and truthfully, so would he. 
He knelt on the porch and held up the binder. "I just came by to give you this," Bradley told him, really examining his face. He looked so much like you. He could see some of Danny there as well, but there was no denying that Everett took after his mom. 
"What is it?" Everett asked, but when he opened it and saw the plastic pages filled with baseball cards, his eyes went wide. "No way! Are these for me?"
"Yep. All yours, kiddo." Bradley had grabbed one of his binders at random, and probably just handed a six year old a collection worth a thousand dollars. But he didn't care. It didn't matter. Bradley swallowed hard and glanced at Molly before he asked Everett, "How's your mom?"
Everett just shrugged while he looked at the baseball cards. "She said she doesn't feel good. Something must be hurting her, because she keeps crying sometimes."
Bradley let the feeling of dread wash over him as Molly sipped her coffee. "Do you think she would let me take you to the park and pitch some balls?" he asked. But before Everett could even get excited, Molly cut him off.
"Not today, Ev. Remember, I'm taking you to the movies after lunch."
Bradley pressed his lips together and patted Everett on the shoulder as he stood up. "Another day, then."
When Bradley pulled away from the curb, Everett was waving to him while holding the baseball card binder, and Molly was standing behind her nephew, flipping Bradley the middle finger. 
---------------------------------
On Monday, Bradley flew like shit. He couldn't pay attention, and he was honestly a little nervous that someone was going to get hurt. 
"What the fuck was that?" Nat asked him once they were back on the tarmac. "I'm team leader! You need to listen to me!"
"I'm sorry," he told her. "You're absolutely right. I'm just distracted today."
"If this is about your Team Mom, you need to leave it on the ground." Nat was seething, and she had every right to be. "I know Jake blew your cover, but I tried to tell you from the start that if you were interested in her, you needed to get used to the fact that she has a kid!"
Now Bradley was seething too, because nobody seemed to want to listen to his side of things. "I am used to it, Nat! I got used to it real quick! And I wouldn't want it any other way!"
"Then sort your shit out or leave it on the ground!" She stormed away from him without another word. 
Then Bradley saw Maverick strolling his way and he tightened his grip on his helmet. "Listen, Bradley. I don't know what the hell happened to you in Lemoore or what your weekend was like, but you can't be flying like that. It's a liability. I'm grounding you for the week."
"What the fuck, Mav!"
But he just held up his hand. "There's no point in arguing with me. The Admirals don't want you in the air for a few days." Then he turned and headed back to the tower leaving Bradley alone in the bright sunlight. 
---------------------------
You skipped practice on Monday. It had been three days since Bradley had seen you, and the only thing holding his heart together was the fact that Everett was still happy to see him. 
"Hi, Coach Bradley!" he called with a wave as he ran ahead of Molly. 
When Bradley headed toward the bleachers to help him change his cleats, Bob grabbed him by the shoulder to stop him. "Hey, I'd steer clear of Molly if I were you. She's not your biggest fan at the moment." At least Bob's face looked sympathetic. 
"Yeah, I noticed."
Bob just kind of shrugged. "I took her out for dinner last night, and I tried my best to let her know you're not going to hurt her sister."
"Thanks," Bradley muttered. At least there was one person who didn't think he was horrible. 
Molly stood to the side and let Bradley tie Everett's cleats while he rambled on about how excited he was for Career Day. When he paused to take a breath, Bradley asked, "How's your mom, kiddo? She feeling better?"
"She's at a work meeting with someone named Frank," Everett replied, putting his Phillies cap on backwards to match with Bradley. He didn't like hearing that you were with Frank, potentially alone. But then Everett added, "She's still sad, too. She took my stuffed Phanatic to sleep with it. I think she remembered that you said it was good for if you're having a hard time."
Bradley closed his eyes for a beat. "You should go start warming up," he whispered, and Everett was off like a rocket running toward Bob. 
"She did give me a message for you," Molly told him as she sat on the bleachers and blew a kiss to Bob, who immediately started blushing. 
"What did she say?" he asked, preparing himself to beg her. 
"She wants you to stop sending flowers. I took some home, and she donated the rest to a nursing home. She said if you can't seem to stop, you can just send them directly to Bright Senior Living so she doesn't have to drive them there herself."
"Fuck," he growled, dropping down on the bench next to her and burying his face in his hands. He sat there for a bit as Bob started practice without him. He was so far out of his element. He had never chased a woman before in his life. He never saw the point in it until now. If he could figure out what to do, he would do it immediately. 
"You actually care about her?" Molly asked softly, and Bradley turned to look at her. 
"Not just her. Everett too. I can't get enough of either of them." His eyes were stinging as he watched Everett round the bases. 
"Then why did you call him baggage?"
Bradley stared at the turf. "Because I was terrified of falling for someone who was outside of my wheelhouse. Someone with more substance. Someone who would make it impossible to stop thinking about them." He stood, realizing it was time to go help Bob. "I'm an idiot. Truly, Molly, I do understand that. But I said all of that shit weeks and weeks ago, when I was just starting to realize that your sister meant something to me."
Molly nodded at him, and just as he was turning to head toward home plate, she said, "Then show her you care about them. And tell her what you told me. I'll let her know I can't bring Ev to practice on Thursday. And I'm pretty sure you're still on the roster for Career Day on Wednesday."
Bradley's heartbeat was speeding up. He felt more alive than he had since he was with you at the Hard Deck. "Thanks, Molly."
"Don't thank me. I'm still pissed at you. I just want my sister and nephew to be happy."
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You left work at lunchtime on Wednesday and headed to Everett's school. When you planned out a five minute presentation for his class, you realized he was right: you did have a boring job. How you were supposed to make accounting interesting for a bunch of six and seven year olds was beyond you. It also didn't help that you were having the shittiest week ever. 
Not only were you missing Bradley and trying to get over him, you had been forced to stay late and work with Frank on Monday. Well, he had volunteered to stay late when he heard you were going to. And now you couldn't even lie to him and say you were seeing Bradley to get him off your back. 
With a deep sigh, you opened your car door and headed across the parking lot in your suit and high heels, the hot sun making you uncomfortable in your long sleeves. 
And then you heard his voice in person for the first time since Friday night. "Kitten."
You turned to see Bradley walking up the sidewalk in his flight suit, boots, and aviators looking impossibly handsome. You had been listening to his voicemail apologies last night, but the way he sounded in person made your spine tingle with need. 
You tamped it down. "What are you doing here?" you asked, not bothering to look at him as he caught up to you.
He was silent for a beat. "Everett invited me."
You scoffed. "Well, I'm uninviting you."
"Kitten. Please."
"No," you said sternly. "Why even bother if he's just my excess baggage?"
Bradley stopped walking, and when you turned to look at him, he had the same expression he had worn after you slapped him across his cheek. "He's not," Bradley rasped. "He's perfect. And so are you. And I don't want to make him upset if I don't show up."
You rolled your eyes. "Come on." He followed you like your shadow, his warmth at your back. You thought maybe he was going to touch you when you signed both of them in at the office and got name tags. It seemed like he wanted to, like maybe he was holding back. And as much as you wanted to scream in his face, your body was betraying you by craving his touch.
"This way," you told him, and when you entered Everett's classroom with Bradley next to you, your son's eyes lit up. He waved at both of you from his seat, and you had to plaster on a smile. Before giving it too much thought, you grabbed one of the empty seats between two other parents, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. 
You sat politely and listened to Harper's mom talk about neurosurgery. Then Peyton's dad talked about construction equipment. You gave everyone your full attention, firmly ignoring Bradley. You didn't even look at him once while you stood in front of the class and talked about how important math is. 
Once you were finished, you kissed Everett's forehead before you returned to your seat. But then it was Bradley's turn, and you couldn't help but look at him.
"Hi, I'm Lieutenant Bradshaw, and Everett invited me here to talk about flying jets called Super Hornets." Every pair of eyes was glued to him as he gave a riveting presentation. Everett was practically vibrating with excitement at his desk, clearly so proud to have brought the most interesting adult to Career Day. You also noted that every woman was drooling over Bradley, including Everett's teacher. 
It was crazy to think that for a short time, you thought he was going to be yours. 
When everyone was done speaking, you popped out of your seat and told Everett you'd pick him up in a few hours, and then you were making a beeline for the door. You could hear Bradley calling your name, but you just kept going all the way to your car. 
"Kitten, please!" He was right behind you now, and you saw his big hand shoot past your shoulder and hold your door firmly closed. "Can we talk?"
You turned to face him, and you were taken back to every single time he had walked you and Everett to your car after tee ball practice. 
"About what?" you whispered. He had caught you off guard. You meant to start yelling, but all of the warm feelings he gave you were right there at the surface.
His eyes went a little wide as his lips parted, seemingly surprised you weren't shouting at him. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I fucked up. I should have never said those things, because I didn't even mean them."
You couldn't meet his eyes as you asked him, "Why did you say that to your friends? I feel humiliated. I feel like you think Everett and I are a joke."
"No!" he said, keeping his hand against the door and leaning a little closer to you. "You're not. And he's not. I said that so long ago, because I was instantly attracted to you, Kitten. And that terrified me."
You felt the fight draining out of you, and you knew you needed to get in your car and leave before he saw you crying. But instead you said, "Maybe you're right though. We're a lot to handle. I shouldn't have expected things to be easy."
When you turned and tried to open your door, Bradley held it shut. "Will you look at me?" You glanced at him over your shoulder as you felt tears stinging your eyes. "You and Everett are not a lot to handle. You're the perfect amount. Being around both of you makes me feel so good, Kitten." 
You swallowed hard and shook your head. "Thanks for coming today, I guess. It made him happy."
He let go of the door and ran his thumb across your jaw. "I don't think I would be able to live with myself if I made him cry."
You nodded and ducked away from his hand. "I'll figure it out. Make it so that this doesn't break his heart."
"Don't say that, Kitten. I still want to take him to the Phillies game on Sunday. I want all three of us to go," he whispered as you turned your back fully to him again. 
"I don't think that's a good idea."
You could feel his frustration rolling off of him, and his voice sounded panicked. "Where does that leave us, Kitten? Do I even stand a chance now?"
"I don't know. I need to get back to work. Bye, Coach."
This time he let you open the door, and he closed it softly once you were inside. When you pulled away, he just stood in the parking spot watching you. 
--------------------------
Bradley ended up at the Hard Deck after Career Day at Everett's school. He was grounded from flying, you'd just told him you didn't know where he stood with you, and he was probably going to make Everett cry at some point this week.
He ran his hands over his face and nursed a beer for a while. When Nat and Jake showed up, eyeing him cautiously, he thought it would be to his advantage to just head home. He handed Penny some cash, but Nat rubbed his shoulder. 
"I'm sorry I screamed at you on Monday."
"I deserved it," Bradley replied. "I wasn't being safe."
"You look fucking miserable," Jake drawled, leaning on the bar next to Bradley.
"You're literally the last person I want to talk to right now," Bradley replied through gritted teeth. "Thanks for Friday night."
Jake just shook his head. "Hey, I was just trying to get in her pants, okay? She's gorgeous, and you made it pretty clear the last time we talked about her that you were not interested."
Bradley couldn't even get mad, because Jake was actually right. "Well I'm pretty fucking interested in her now, okay? Stay out of her pants."
Jake just grinned. "I think I know what might help."
"This sounds suspicious," Bradley muttered, eyeing Jake cautiously. "Let's hear it."
"You still planning on going to that Padres game this weekend?"
"I don't know," Bradley groaned, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
"Well," Jake said as he signalled Penny for a drink. "My landlord's son is the head groundskeeper at Petco Park. I can try to pull some strings if you think it will help."
Bradley gaped at him. "Do it."
---------------------------
Molly is the sister I wish I had! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!
PART 14
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sidekick-hero · 2 months
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(steddie | teen | 1.4k | cw: blood, the aftermath of a beating | tags: hurt!eddie and protective!steve, running away | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is letting him pick the music by @sparklyslug | @steddiesongfics Tracy Chapman "Fast Car" | AO3)
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Someone's banging on his door, the noise so loud that it drowns out Queen blasting from his speakers. His first thought is, "It's back," quickly followed by panic that grips his heart, squeezing it tight as he thinks, "Someone's hurt".
Steve runs to the front door and flings it open before the second thought fully registers, his fears seemingly confirmed when he finds Eddie standing on his porch, fist raised to knock again. The adrenaline pumping through his veins makes everything laser sharp, his mind running a mile a minute as he takes in the man in front of him.
The man who owns his heart and who looks seconds away from collapsing. The dark bruises on his face are a stark contrast to the pallor of his skin, and Steve's stomach drops at the sight of one of those beloved eyes swollen shut. There is blood on Eddie's face, dripping from his nose, which also looks swollen and slightly crooked, and from his mouth, where his lip is split open. He's hunched over, his other arm wrapped around his own middle in a protective grip. 'Please don't let him be hurt any more than this, I can't lose him,' he pleads to a god he doesn't even believe in.
He would beg any deity and any demon for Eddie. His life, his soul, they could have it all if it meant Eddie would be okay.
It's not healthy or well-adjusted or whatever psych-speak there is to say that what Steve feels for Eddie might be fucked up in its intensity. It's not like Steve gives a fuck. He has more important things on his mind.
"Eddie." He wants to say it in a calm and soothing voice, knows that's what Eddie needs to feel safe, but all he manages is a broken whisper, his fear ringing in every syllable.
"Hi baby," his boyfriend says with a smile that turns into a pained grimace before it's fully formed, "sorry for barging in on you like this but I didn't know where else to go."
It breaks Steve's heart to see Eddie like this. The man he knows, the man he loves, is larger than life, with a big grin and an even bigger heart. He shouldn't look like this, so small and still trying to make himself even smaller, and the only thing Steve can do right now is open his arms and let him sink into his body so Steve can hide him away from a world that doesn't deserve someone like Eddie.
Eddie falls right into him, and Steve wraps him in a careful hug until Eddie pushes even closer, obviously needing to be held tight enough that he can fall apart without losing a piece of himself.
They're still on Steve's doorstep, out in the open for anyone to see, but he doesn't care. Steve has a feeling that he won't be in this shithole of a town much longer anyway.
"Oh baby, it's okay, I got you, you're safe here," he coos into Eddie's ear. He wants to ask what happened. He wants to ask what (who) did this and rush upstairs to grab his bat and bash in the skull of whatever (whoever) did this to him.
A pained whimper is all the warning he gets before the weight in his arms grows heavier as Eddie lets himself crumble and break, trusting Steve to hold him through it.
Steve does, almost carrying Eddie to the couch and pulling him onto his lap once they're there, never letting go of him, not even for a second. Once they're both settled, Steve continues to just hold Eddie as he continues to tremble in Steve's arms, silent sobs tearing through his body.
It takes a long time before Eddie slowly lifts his head from where it's nestled against Steve's neck. "I'm sorry," he says again, as if it was ever a hardship for Steve to have Eddie in his arms. As if it's his fault that they live in a world with sharp teeth that likes to sink them into anything soft.
"Don't be, none of this is your fault. Whoever did this to you should be sorry." He doesn't add that they'll be sorry if he has anything to say about it, because he knows that would upset Eddie. That's why Steve keeps those ugly things away from him.
Eddie laughs humorlessly. "I'm pretty sure the only thing they're sorry for is not finishing the job. Some days I think the next time will be the last. That this time they will finish it, finish me. I'm pretty sure that if I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to die here, Steve."
And that's... Steve knows deep down that that's the truth. It's not Eddie being dramatic, like the time he fell to the floor as if Steve had mortally wounded him by refusing to watch the thing with him for the tenth time. It's Eddie speaking a truth that Steve has been trying to hide from them both for months.
Steve knows it's time to make a choice. For himself and for Eddie. For them. Either they leave this town, tonight, or they may never leave it again. Not alive. Because where one goes, the other follows, and Steve knows he can't protect Eddie forever from the hate and violence that bled into the heart of this town long before either of them were born.
"If we leave now, we can be in Indiana before midnight," Steve hears himself say, the decision already made, because the alternative is blood and pain and sorrow.
The kids graduated a few months ago and are about to leave for college. Robin, Nancy and Jonathan are long gone, many miles and just a phone call away. It doesn't matter where they go, any place would be better than here. They have nothing to lose but each other.
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"What I'm saying," Steve replies, "is that we can pack up my car right now and be on the highway in about an hour. It's not far to Indy from there. Or Chicago. Hell, if you still wanna go to California, we can do that. I don't care, Eddie. As long as it's with you, we could go to the moon and I'd be happy."
Dark brown eyes search his, one still so swollen Steve wonders if Eddie can see anything with it, the other bloodshot but still beautiful.
"You would do that? Just up and leave everything behind. For me?"
Steve wonders how someone as bright as Eddie (because grades don't make you smart, they both know that) could sometimes be so dense.
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." It's not a grand declaration of his undying love, no poetic words as Eddie would find them. Just the simple truth of his irrevocable devotion.
Another searching look before Eddie climbs off his lap and back to his feet. He holds out his hand for Steve to take, and when he does, Eddie pulls him to his feet to kiss him. It's hard, a desperate, hungry edge to it, raw like the blood Steve tastes from the cut in Eddie's lip.
Eddie's lips are red when he pulls away, blood staining them like lipstick. "You even let me pick the music while we drive?"
Wondering if his grin looks as bloodstained and wild as Eddie's, Steve teases, "I wouldn't go that far."
Eddie's eyes (at least the one Steve can see) finally sparkle again, and his grin softens to a gentle smile as he cups Steve's cheek and wipes the blood from his lips. "I love you, Steve Harrington."
"I love you too. You have no idea how much."
"I think I'm starting to."
It's Steve's turn to smile softly at Eddie, pressing a kiss into his palm. "Believe me, this is just the tip of the iceberg."
Eddie's grin turns wolfish at Steve's words, breaking the solemn mood. "Just the tip? I think I heard that one before, big boy."
"You're a menace."
Another kiss, another promise ("I'm your menace"), and then they're almost running to Steve's room, hastily packing only what they consider absolutely necessary. After that, they go to Eddie's new trailer to do the same and leave a message for Wayne, explaining what happened and promising to call as soon as possible.
Then they're off, flying down the highway in Steve's car, and when Eddie reaches for the radio, Steve lets him. As if there had ever been any doubt that Steve was going to let Eddie choose the music for every single day of their life together.
With one hand on the wheel and the other arm wrapped around Eddie's shoulder, Steve feels like he's right where he belongs.
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radioapplerevue · 1 month
Text
See a lot of questions scattered about regarding "Why do people even ship Lucifer or Alastor? They hate each other/Lucifer's married/Alastor's ace etc etc etc." And while I doubt most people are asking in good faith, I figured I'd give my answer anyway! In part because these two in conjunction with each other fascinate me and I want to talk about it.
First off, you have Alastor, this character whose whole shtick is trying to convince everyone around him all the time that he's the most mysterious and most dangerous person around. And... he's not. We know he's not. Hell, he's not even in tier 3 of "dangerous people in Hell." But it's very important to him that he is perceived that way, and he goes to great lengths to manufacture and maintain that image.
Then you have Lucifer, who is the most dangerous person in Hell, power-wise, by far. But he doesn't seem to give a shit about that at all. His power means little to him, he didn't want the throne, he doesn't do anything with this position that Alastor would do everything to have. Lucifer is a deeply broken individual whose only concern is his family, and he's not intimidated by Alastor in any way, and never will be.
So he was pretty much tailor-made for Alastor to hate. This guy who has everything Alastor wants, but doesn't give a shit about having it, who he can't scare. Ever. The only way he can get under Lucifer's skin is by digging into his emotional sore spots, and boy howdy does Lucifer have a lot of those. And here's the fun thing! Or one of the fun things, anyway. Most people, even in Hell, would never dare to try and upset Lucifer. Upset the King of Hell? That's suicide, right?
But Alastor knows it's not, because he sees two things right off the bat: one, Lucifer wouldn't do anything to hurt Charlie, and hurting Alastor would do that -- and two, it's just not in Lucifer's nature to do so. Surprising for the King of Hell, but nonetheless true. Lucifer's a showy guy, but he's not a violent guy -- even against Adam, he only toyed with him until Adam made the mistake of going directly for Charlie a second time. Needless to say, it takes a lot to make Lucifer get violent, and it's unlikely to be anything that only targets himself.
And thus sets the stage for what is already a really fun and interesting dynamic, and one that can become even more so with time. Because these are two characters who treat each other in a way that nobody else can or will. Alastor can poke and prod and peel back Lucifer's scars and peer directly at his insecurities. Lucifer can give as good as he gets and challenge Alastor and there's nothing Alastor can do to scare him off. In short, they can make each other confront things that right now just aren't likely for other people.
I like to think eventually, once they get over the initial "how dare he, this isn't allowed, I hate everything about this" stage, they begin to actually... enjoy it. Enjoy the back and forth, enjoy hitting the ball to each other's court, enjoy having someone around who won't back down. And Lucifer is, at his core, sweet. How unsettling it must be for Alastor, to see this extremely powerful man who is also just. Good. How over ten millennia of pain haven't changed that, even as they crumbled his heart into little pieces.
I think Lucifer would fascinate Alastor. And I think Alastor, with all his idiosyncrasies, and his ballsy manner of never backing down from a challenge, would fascinate Lucifer too. And there are so, so many ways you could go from there. Darker ways, softer ways. But there's so much potential, and I am finding it an absolute blast to explore.
As for the ace thing, hello, hi! I'm aroace. And on the sex repulsed side, even! I shouldn't have to reveal this in order for people to get off my back, but hey, there you have it. Now please stop expecting people to volunteer their sexual orientations just so you can be sure they have the... what? Right? To ship things? I enjoy this ship in all flavors. A lot of people have been taking the time to explore asexuality in their fanworks with Alastor, and it's been a delight to see! But in the end, fandom is a sandbox, and I don't care how you are smashing your dolls together as long as you're having fun. And if seeing them in a particular configuration is uncomfortable for you, there's nothing wrong with that, either... just back out, and move on to things more pleasant.
And goodness, don't go after real actual people in defense of fictional ones.
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spidernuggets · 4 months
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may I request form the Jason prompts thing? 4 and 7, maybe gender neutral or male reader comforts Jason after he gets a flashback or a nightmare or something along those lines?
Jason Todd x Reader
"Can you just- hold my hand.. please" "You. Me. Cuddle."
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You probably shouldn't have had your headphones on at full blast this late at night. If you didn't, then you probably would've heard Jason's footsteps sounding heavier than usual. You probably would've noticed the darker bags under his eyes and the frown that looked like it had been permanently stitched to look that way on his face.
You were cooking a late... or early.. you weren't too sure, but you were cooking a good meal for Jason when he'd come home. You didn't think he'd come earlier than expected. So you didn't notice his presence or his depressed state.
All Jason wanted to do was rip his stupid armour off of him, get into something more comfortable, and go to bed. He didn't have it in him right now to give you your daily affection. But during times like this, where Jason is too mentally exhausted to express his love, you always understood. And Jason always appreciated you for it, especially how he constantly tells himself that it isn't fair to you and that you deserve better. But you always shushed him whenever he brought up the subject by giving him a big smooch.
He made a beeline to your shared room to finally change out of his armour. He was having another episode, and you'd always notice and give him space. But you didn't even know he was home. Jason didn't know you didn't know he was home.
You were vibing a little too much to the loud music you were listening to and accidently knocked over a small steel pot that was placed by the edge of the sink.
"Shit," you muttered, rushing over to the fallen pot, placing it in the sink and wiping off the residue on the floor. That's when you heard a loud sound of something falling over. Someone was in your room.
You quickly check your phone. Jason always messaged you when he was on his way home. And there were no recent messages sent by him. Your heart raced, scared an intruder had broken in and was in your room.
So you grabbed the bat that leaned against the corner of the kitchen, holding it up in the air, ready to swing at whoever had the dumb idea of breaking in. You were relieved that Jason taught you simple defence strategies.
When you shoulder your way through the door, you are ready to swing, but you immediately stop. Your eyes widen when you say a crying Jason Todd tucked away in the corner of your shared bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers, sitting up in a foetal position, muttering quiet pleads.
"No- no, no please. Let me- let me go, stop," you can barely hear what he's saying. His voice sounds hoarse and dry, and his chest is heaving. His breathing is heavy and unsteady.
When you softly call out his name, Jason slowly lofts his head up. But what he sees instead of you holding the bat, it's the Joker holding that damn crowbar.
"NO," he starts screaming, holding his arms out in defence, trying to back into the wall impossibly closer. "GET- GET THE FUCK AWAY," his voice cracks and he starts choking on his extremely dry throat. You know that with what he sees, you can't get yourself any closer. So you slowly put your hands up to surrender, making sure Jason sees, and you slowly walk out the door and gently shut it behind you.
You know that Jason needs his space to calm down. Every breakdown takes a different length of time when Jason would calm down. Sometimes, it would be 15 minutes. Other times, it would be a day or two. Either way, you patiently wait for him to come back to you.
You made yourself a good, hot cup of chai and sat on the couch, reading Jason's annotated 'Lord of the Flies'. You make wure not to where your headphones now, preparing your love and care for when Jason comes around.
You turn your head when you hear the bedroom door quietly open, followed by sniffles and the sounds of Jason's feet padding along the wooden floorboards. You send him a soft smile as he walks over to you. But he only stops at a distance.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He couldn't look at you in fear that you'd be looking at him in fear or.. or hate or anger. He couldn't bear seeing those kinds of looks in your eyes.
You sigh, and Jason thinks that you'd scream at him back or something. But the little voice in his head is yelling at you, saying that you should be screaming at him. Because you don't deserve to be with someone who can't control what he sees or when he has a meltdown.
But you stand up, closing the distance towards you, slowly and cautiously reaching your hands up towards his face, cradling his cheeks as you caress them with your thumbs.
"You wanna talk about what happened?" You ask. You wanted to laugh at the thought of if you asked that any softer, Jason wouldn't have heard you the first time. But right now, you're concerned about the state of him.
"I- I just.." He hiccups, and you whisper to him, telling him to take his time. "A kid died tonight. Bevause I wasn't fast enough. I wasn't able to save her. She was just a child, Y/n," he cries, fresh tears rolling down over the dried ones. "Bruce and Dick sent me home early because I almost killed the guy who killed her, and..." He stops, choking out a sob. You run your fingers through his hair, listening and patiently waiting for him to continue.
"Bruce said that..." He beginds to say, but his sentence dies out. He doesn't know if he can repeat what Vruce had told him.
"What? What did Bruce say?" You ask. You appreciated Bruce's dedication and commitment as Batman, and you respected his morals of not acting as jury, judge, and executiomer. But most times, Bruce makes a lot of decisions where he believes that he always makes the right decision, where he's a hypocrite towards his morals. Minus the executioner. He shows this off by making decisions on what he decided is best for his sons. And sometimes, Bruce makes the wrong decision.
"He said that if I killed the guy, I might as well be at the same level of sanity as the Joker," he says quietly, a whine coming out at the end followed by another sob.
Sorry, what?
Your soft expression turns into a sharp glare. Bruce said what? You always knew Bruce said shit he didn't mean just to get his point across, but this is crossing a line that you will not excuse.
"He said what?" You snarled. You wanted to slam Bruce's head through the wall.
Jason continues his explanation. "When I came home, I just wanted to go to bed. But- but I heard something fall. It was loud. It... It just sounded like the crowbar."
You instantly felt so much guilt. You weren't focused, and you knocked over the pot. You were part of the reason that Jason had a massive freak out.
You held his face once more, bringing his head closer to yours, leaning your forhead against his.
"I'm so sorry, my love. That was my fault," you admit. "I wasn't focused, I had my music on so loud, I accidently knocked over a pot- I'm so, so sorry."
Jason sniffles once more. "It's okay," he weakly says. "Just wanna sleep."
You nod, letting go of his face and following him into your room.
When he gets into bed, you notice how he lies himself at the edge of the bed. This tells you how he just needs your presence but minimum contact.
"You need a pillow in between?" You ask as you sat on the bed. In times similar to this, you'd put a pillow in between the two of you so no sudden contact would scare Jason.
"No.. no I.." He hesitates as you tilt your head in confusion. ""Can you just- hold my hand.. please" He asks, looking up at you.
You smile, lying yourself at a safe distance so you wouldn't roll over to Jason in your sleep. You tuck one arm under your head, your other hand reaching out to hold his. Jason moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. And for the first time for the night, he feels like he can breathe.
He closes his eyes, hoping to fall asleep soon. And you stay up, watching over him til he falls asleep. And maybe you stayed awake a little longer to make sure he doesn't have a nightmare.
The next morning, you wake up significantly earlier than you normally would. You look to your side and see your hand still connected to Jason's. You slowly let go, pausing when Jason starts stirring, but you carefully get out of bed when he continues to sleep peacefully.
You took the opportunity to start making Jason's favourite breakfast. A quick fried egg and avocado toast. But before yoh can even take the pan out, you hear Jason's heavy footsteps come out of the bedroom.
"Hi, Jay. I'm just gonna make you some breakfast, yeah?" You say. When you turn around, you see that Jason is definitely in a happier mood than yesterday, and you smile widely.
But Jason shakes his head at your offer. He points to you, then himself, then throws his thumb behind him, pointing towards your bedroom.
"You. Me. Cuddle." He says, a small smile tugging at his lips, and this gets you giddy.
"What about breakfast? You didn't eat last night," you say concerned. But Jason just scoffs, walking towards you and throwing you over his shoulder, giving your butt a light slap before walking towards your room.
"Someone wole up in the right side of the bed," you laugh as Jason lays you down on the bed.
He walks around the bed, lying himself down too, opening his arms, waiting for you to come into his embrace, in which you happily throw yourself into.
Your arms are wrapped around his torso as his own are cradling your figure. His lips are resting against your forhead while your head is laod on his chest.
"Thank you," he mutters. "For last night."
"Of course, Jay," you reply. "I'm always going to be here for you. No matter what," you promise.
"And thanks for putting up with me," he says even quieter, feeling his lips mumble against your forhead.
Your brows knot together, your head lifting up to look at him. "Jason, I don't 'put up with you'," you say in disbelief. "I do this because I love you. Unconditionally. Why wouldn't I be there for my favourite person?" You say, pressing a kiss on his chin.
Jason smiles. Even if a part of him will always think you deserve better than him, he just lives in the moment and basks in your everlasting love.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you too."
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weird-an · 1 year
Text
Billy stares at the shards on the ground. It's Steve's favorite bowl. Dustin made it in summer camp. Painted a baseball bat and a weird looking dog on it. It was a fucking ugly thing and now it's broken.
Billy breaks things. All the time. All his life.
His dad tells him every day. That Billy is a mess, a fuckup, a nuisance. That Billy is broken, too, and that's why he breaks things.
Maybe Steve should break up with him, before Billy can break him, too. He tries to be gentle with Steve, but he doesn't know how. His hands are too strong, his tongue too mean, his anger too hot.
"Everything alright with the popc- Oh shit, Billy!" Steve sounds concerned.
"You're bleeding," he says. Warm hands wrap around his own. There is a slash on his palm. Nothing big. Not the worst Billy had this month.
"I broke the bowl," Billy states the obvious. He wants to say more. Like I'll break you too and I don't want to.
"That sucks." Steve wraps a bandaid around his hand. Steve shouldn't have to do this. Billy is used to do it on his own. He can do it.
"I think we should break up." Billy stares Steve's fingers fixing the bandaid.
Silence clouds the kitchen. It's too loud, just like Billy.
"Do you want us to break up?" Steve asks hoarsely.
Billy doesn't. Not ever. "We should."
"Why?" Steve's thumb rubs across his wrist. "Because you broke the bowl?"
The bowl, Steve's face a few months ago, his parents' marriage, Neil's dream of the perfect son.
"I break things all the time," Billy starts reciting the words so often yelled at him.
Steve wraps his arms around Billy. A tight hug, nearly squeezing the air out of him. But with Steve hugging him, Billy doesn't need to breathe.
"That's not true," Steve says, kissing his temple. "Just yesterday you fixed the sink and I think you fix me a little every day."
"You're not broken," Billy tells him. Why would Steve think that? He's fucking perfect in Billy's eyes.
Steve pulls him even closer. "Then you're not broken either."
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alienpossession · 4 months
Text
Body a Day 27: Closet
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I think it's convenient that these humans can be called in a whim and they will just come with no suspicion whatsoever that I need someone to fix my walk-in closet every single day. Well, I did call different companies in rotation and came up with different excuses or details, but so far, these handyman really proven themselves to be handy bodies to be worn by my people as they entered my walk-in closet with their gears eager to do their work and walked out already wrapped under our control
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So after around a month or so, I already built a sizable group of our kind's first colony on Earth. So I couldn't really control the type of bodies of the people I called to come, but I think this blue-collar sector filled with fit people with muscles that is not just for vanity but indeed useful and filled with strength. Some of them walked out gingerly after the possession, but some other just dashed out confidently as if they've never been possessed
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A few of them even outlandishly wanted to have sex with my vessels right off the bat after the takeover, it's like as if they directly wired to their human's lustful desire and let it control them rather than they override it, which is disappointing because we shouldn't degrade ourselves as if we're really human. We just used their body because it's easier for us to navigate this planet in their skin undetectable, and well, lucky that we ended up right away in a rather fit compound of people. Let's just say that I punished the morally-depraved right away and force them to be above their desire and not let their dick do the talking
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Anyway, the colony that we established slowly yet surely expanded because the work of these blue-collar worker exposed them to the home of the rich and famous around this neighborhood, which is known to be the most expensive zip code in this country. They sometimes left their original vessel to acquire the more socially endowed ones while leaving the rugged empties just a mere husk they can tell to do their dirty work. So, upon looking at their upgrade, you could say that I was inspired to get my very own upgrade, after all I'm the oldest colonist, I need to establish my dominance over these youngins, right?
So, right before Christmas, this huge guy walked in after I asked some help in my bathroom. I never expected such fine older person would casually walk in as this person couldn't be just a regular handyman. But I realized that he came down to my house because my vessel used this guy's service for the bespoke bathroom before.
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Being the prideful business owner that he is to the craft and services he provided, he decided to oversee the whole repair process. He came along with this other big, fully-tattooed guy that resembled more of the kind of people that I expected to come instead while the owner could talk his way to me about doing some other renovation in this house that his services can handle. Sizing him up and sensing his strength, the big guy seemed like a tough nut to crack in 1-on-1 battle, because.....just look at the guy, he's easily towered over any of us at 6'5" and that shoulder is as wide as a professional swimmer or something. I glanced around at the hard-working handyman kneeling to fix one of the broken tiles and started plotting. I decided to use the help of the tattooed bufffoon by taking care of him first, so when his boss was busy with another client call (I made another member of the colony to distract him), I asked him to came along with me to the walk-in closet in my bedroom as I need some help. Upon entering, one of my kind latched itself to his head and started crawling for control. He tried to swat my insectoid fella away, but he was not fast enough before the 12-legged-freak managed to get inside the buffoon. It was quick, just around a couple minutes or so and he's ready to help me get my upgraded body
When his boss returned from the call, all in a sudden, he choked his boss and easily lifted the 250 lbs muscle mountain with just one hand.
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That's when I crawled out from my vessel and with the help of the vessel's hand that still moved under my will, he grabbed my form and landed me right on the service owner's nose that I learned to be named Youssef. My used vessels then said stoically
"Well Youssef, you should rejoice, because you've been selected to serve a bigger purpose. Your service will be helping us tremendously to expand further, so let's crack that mouth open so I can squeezed in---"
---
That was a couple days ago. Now, I'll let you be the judge. I look way better now, right?
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Hi 💞I just discovered your account and I read all of Ror yandere's posts and I think your writing is the best I've ever read for Ror ✨✨. So I decided to place an order. This is the first time I order on any account 😅 So what about yandere poseidon, Thor, Buda, hades (if you don't read the manga, put Loki instead of him please) with a reader like Hinata Hyuga, shy, sweet, and heir to a powerful clan, but people think she's Weak and they prefer her sister, and she loves someone other than the yandere, and that other person is not aware of her feelings, and he loves another girl. You can choose if the reader is a god or a human. English is not my first language, so sorry if it is not understood 💀💀
I READ HINATA HYUGA AND INSTANTLY KNEW I HAD TO DO THIS REQUEST, SHE IS MY QUEEN. The reader will be human! I ALSO WANTED TO ADD THOR BUT I DIDN'T HAVE THE MOTIVATION SORRY-
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chsjgjejc, she's so pretty I'm gonna cry
Yandere! Buddha x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:
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- He loves you from right off the bat okay, your beliefs align so well with his and while people seemed to be ignorant about your strength, though he supposes thats what he liked most about you. You weren't just a demure and anxious woman, you had so many more layers to you.
- You were loving, absolutely passionate about those whom you loved and cared about. From your first fight, you showed your true strength and it really impressed Buddha.
- I'm gonna be honest, his feelings for you were genuinely wholesome and sweet from the start. He liked you and he was nice to you, yet when he tried to approach you romantically; you didn't shy away but confidently told him there was someone else. He was dissapointed...ah...so you already had a s/o? He shouldn't be surprised, you're amazing-
- Oh...they weren't your s/o? That's...interesting. He starts to look into this mortal that you seem to be so infatuated with and, well, he doesn't like what he finds. This person has the most desirable person in the world at their feet and they just act like she isn't there???
- How!? Buddha's world light's up once you enter the room. Everything around him seems brighter and more full of life, much so to the point that he notices when you're not around him, everything feels more lonely and sad. It doesn't make sense how they have you in the palm of their hands and yet, still want to have someone else.
- Buddha's obsession LITERALLY starts because of this, he is so close to winning your heart, he knows it! Every shy smile you give him when you compliment him, the way you blush but thank him when he hands you a snack, and how you confide in him. He nearly has you, his heart at his fingertips. But then that person just smiles at you once and you're cruelly pulled back to them. Maintaining a one-sided loyalty.
- Buddha is definetly one of the more smarter yanderes, he could actually manage to manipulate you into giving up your crush. Yeah, he might stalk and spy on you in secret but he'll project his yandere tendencies onto you. Saying how he's concerned with YOUR obsessive behavior (all while keeping his own a secret) and manipulating you saying it was selfish of you to hold onto them when they want someone else. He asks: "Do you truly love them? Because if you were, you'd let them find their happiness...even if it doesn't include you..."
- If he manages to get through to you, perfect! He just needs to capture your interest which isn't hard (look at that man and tell me you wouldn't fall in love, I dare you) since he'd help you recover from your broken heart and put all the broken pieces together. He is now the one you look at during fights, he is now the one you devote your endless love too, and it gives him such an ego boost.
- Yeah, maybe he didn't take his own device but in his defense; you were already the perfect and ideal match for him and he knew you'd love him back...he just had to get rid of the little nuisance that was keeping you from realizing your true feelings.
- If there is the slight chance you do realize he's trying to manipulate you or that your feelings are too strong for your crush, he will just straight up tell you that they DO NOT LOVE YOU. THEY WILL NEVER LOVE YOU. NOT THE WAY HE DOES. Why...why can't you see that???
Yandere! Poseidon x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:
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- NO BECAUSE, LIKE, IF THE READER IS HINATA THEN POSEIDON IS DEFINETLY TONERI, JUST A BIT DIFFERENT BUT BASICALLY: POSEIDON FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU, A NEW GODDESS.
- LIKE, HE ABSOLUTELY FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU SOMEHOW DESPITE YOU BEING A HUMAN (to clarify: you caught his eye when you were a legal consenting adult) AND THAT YOU DEFINETLY HAD AN EFFECT ON HIM WITHOUT REALIZING IT.
- He admired you so much and loved you so dearly, in his mind, he hated all humans but maybe...maybe YOU were the one destined for him, you did not digust him at all, and while everyone in your clan had exceptional talent, YOU were the best, even being deemed as "The Bykaugan Princess".
- When you enter Ragnarok, you do it to protect humanity but also for love...Sadly, not for Poseidon's love but for the love of a human who didn't even notice you! One who you gave your heart and soul too and yet, they didn't even spare a second glance in your direction.
- While Poseidon loved you, he hated the person you fell in love with because they reminded him of every aspect he hated about humanity. Their arrogance for taking your love for granted, their ignorance as they never noticed the longing looks that you gave them, and their obnoxiousness as they casually brushed you off. YOU WERE FIGHTING IN RAGNAROK BECAUSE YOU WANTED TO PROTECT HUMANITY, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY: THEM.
- It IRKED Poseidon because he was jealous of a human. He doesn't blame you for having a crush on them, he sees how gentle your heart is and how your kindness is simply too much for your heart to hold for itself so you share it with others.
- No, he was upset at everyone around you. Those who talked down to you, looked down at you for how you acted (even though you couldn't help but be a living symbol of elegance and perfection) but if they had watched you like Poseidon had, that you were far from what they thought about you. You were mighty and you were strong, especially for those who you loved.
- He wanted to romance you, he truly did. He showed his softer self to you when he was able to be around you and tried his best to not look so intimidating but it just wasn't enough. For some reason, that disgusting person you adored was taking Poseidon's place in your heart. It was their fault he couldn't court you like how he wanted because they somehow made you obsessed with him!
- He had to resort to such nasty methods. Maybe he kidnapped your sister like how Toneri did and made you marry him to garuntee her safety. Maybe he threatened to use his position as a God to make sure your little crush suffers, hell, you did kill one of his fellow Gods so he's sure he could get some other God's in targeting your crush as revenge.
- He hated seeing that fearful look on your face but when you finally submitted to him, he couldn't deny it made his heart beat faster. He knows you only went because you care too much about people but he isn't too upset because he knows, after a while, you will realize that HE is the one you should be obsessed with and loyally devoted to because unlike that pathetic human, he will return it ten fold♡
Yandere! Loki x Hinata Hyuga! Reader:
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- Aw, you're a pathetic little mouse, aren't you?~ You started out as an obsession right off the bat to him, honestly. Your eyes are what caught his attention but you were so timid and neglected, poor thing♡ He approached you long before the fights started but saw you during the preparations of the whole thing and ah, you were simply too adorable to resist.
- But then when he sees you fight with the Gentle Fist technique for the first time then he is obsessed with you, so the little mouse does have some fight in her, huh? And yet, as soon as the battle is over and he pins you to the wall after your victory. You start to get nervous and stutter and he chuckles and murmurs a: "How precious~" before he lets you scamper off like the cute mouse you are.
- He borders on the line of being all lovey dovey with you and being absolutely mean to you. Like, you're upset because you realized Brunhilde meant to pick your sister instead and asked if you were willing to trade but you just tried to argue that you can handle it...well, tried. You ended up nearly in tears so Brunhilde left to "give you sometime to think it over." which really meant she just couldn't deal with you.
- "Aw, poor little mouse, once more; only the second choice to their big sister." Loki teased. You tried to wipe your tears, not wanting him to he mean to you like he usually is but you couldn't stop them. He just feigns another sound of sympathy as he reaches over and brushes your tears away with his thumb and squishes your face cutely as he smiles, "If it helps, I think that you're much better than your big sister. She's so mean and boring, but you're simply adorable."
- His bullying can also stem from the fact that you love someone other than him, which pisses him off. Usually, he'd be angry at you but he's even angrier when he sees that the person you've given your heart too DOESN'T EVEN WANT IT. AND YET YOU NEVER GIVE UP TRYING TO PROVE YOURSELF WHEN LOKI IS RIGHT THERE. Okay maybe he's a little mad at you but only because despite your all-seeing eye, HE IS BETTER FOR YOU. Yes he's a little mean but that's just because he loves you♡
- He'll bully your crush out of you too. Mocking you for wanting someone who doesn't want you, how you should just give up on them because they're never going to notice you, not the way that Loki does. They will never love you.
- And as your once more crying from his hurtful words, he once more pulls you into a gentle and loving hug and nuzzles his face into your neck: "Aw, they're never gonna want you. Not when that girl is a much better match for them. So you should just give up and be with me instead! I can be so much more for you♡"
- He truly does envy your crush, though. When you're not being sad, you truly are beautiful. The shy yet dreamy smiles you have, the way your eyes flare with admiration and pure love, your face becoming so beautiful that no painting or photo could truly capture your beauty. Loki gets upset when he gets reminded that its not for him.
- He will shape-shift into your crush sometimes as a cruel joke but you never fall for it because of your eyes, but he'll taunt you with it and be all: "Would you give me a kiss now, (Y/n)? Hmm? If I looked like them? If I acted like them?" and you just look him dead in the eyes, your confidence coming out as you glare and say: "No, because my heart belongs to them. And you will never be them."
- You're so pathetic in his eyes. He could destroy you for talking to him like that and you both knew it, yet you risked it all because you loved this person with such passion from the depths of your heart. You fought for humanity not just because it was right but because they'd be destroyed along with it and you'd never let any harm come to them. You will unfailingly run to them again and again just to get your heartbroken but you're willing to endure it because you love them. And as Loki feels what could only be described as heartbreak from your words, he realizes that you've made him just as pathetic as you are...
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callsigns-haze · 6 months
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That Lavender Haze….
THIS IS REPOSTED FROM MY OLD BLOG!
A/n: This is the first post to my new blog so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/n 'Haze' Mitchell
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: Y/N has always got broken by the person she goes back to. Driving up to her wingman's house every time might sound crazy but the both of them are stuck in that haze…
Warning: Smut, heart breaks and a bit of angst
Based of the song: Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift
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You ought not have driven here, outside of your wingman's and his best friends apartment. You shouldn't have climbed the four floors and walked right down the gray hallway. You definitely ought not be knocking on their front door, hoping he's home to temporarily put you back together.
This is wrong, you know it is. But this was likely to happen. You always come to Hangman, seeking the love and attention you've been stolen of.
This is a unnatural thing, it's normal for the both of you. To everyone else, the connection you have with Jake seems cruel and one-sided.
That's why when the door swings open and dark brown eyes cut into slits at the sight of you, you drop your eyes and look down at your slick hands.
"What?" Coyote asks, tone cross as he keeps the door cracked. You keep your eyes low and chew on your bottom lip.
"You know why I'm here." Your voice is broken, tears still in your eyes, accompanying the sobs caught in your throat.
"I do." Javy says.
You sigh and take a deep breath.
"I'm not as bad as you seem to think I am, Coyote." You say, staring down at your thumbs hoping he doesn't retaliate with his usual scoff and roll of the eyes.
Instead, he exhales in a huff.
"Why do you do this?" He questions, a hint of pleading in his inquiry.
"I need him…" You whisper, feeling the guilt and selfishness curl around each word.
"But you've got a boyfriend." He tries reasoning with you. "You know he can't date anyone because he waits around for the next time he'll have to take care of you, right? Why not just leave your cunt of a boyfriend and be with Jake?"
You feel the air whisp around you as Javy throws his hands up, frustrated with the situation. His anger can only grow with your response.
"I need him, too. I love him and I can't leave." You explain, every bit ridden with tragic truth. Without seeing Coyotes' face, you can hear the disapproval swimming around in his mind and it adds to the ache in your torso; the edges of the hole widening and stinging as you wrap your arms around yourself, a feeble attempt at keeping yourself whole.
"Please," you whisper, properly holding Javy' cold, cobalt gaze for the first time since he's opened Jake's door, "just let me in. Please."
He stares into your hollowed eyes for a long moment, an exasperated sigh heaving in his chest, but steps aside to let you into Hangman's apartment.
"I know he'll hate me if I refuse you." He says, shaking his head. "He's sleeping on the couch in the living room, I'm leaving." Coyote grabs his keys from the breakfast bar, then he's gone.
You drop your bag and jacket on the floor and head towards the living room, finding a deep sleep Jake sprawled out on his sofa. Just the sight of him reels in the pain of what's happened earlier, but not enough to numb it.
Kneeling down, you push his blonde hairs from his face, scratching his scalp as you go. A contented sigh blows through his nose, causing you to smile at his peaceful state.
"Jake…" You whisper, leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He stirs a bit but his eyes stay closed. You press your lips to his and run your nose along his chin.
"Hangman, wake up." You breathe. His eyes flutter as an agitated groan sounds in his throat.
"Fuck off, Coyote," He murmurs, batting you away. "We can finish the movie later, I'm tired."
"I'm not Javy, cowboy." You say, poking his nose so that he opens his eyes fully, smiling wide once he realizes who's woken him.
"Hey, angel," He half yawns, stretching like a massive cat. He sits up, shaking his hair around, then looks at you. Really looks at you.
"What's happened?" He asks as you rise to sit next to him on the sofa, your legs laying across his lap and his hands resting on your thighs.
"It's nothing. I just popped by." Your attempt to sound nonchalant falters, your voice cracking due to the amount of time you spent crying on the way there.
"Nothing? Really, Haze? Have you forgotten how well I know you?" He questions, glancing at the clock on the cable box, then eyeing you suspiciously. "Or maybe the fact that you're "popping by" at half passed midnight?"
"It's fine, Jake. I'll be fine." You mutter.
"Your eyes are red and puffy, your cheeks are tear stained, and your arms are wrapped around your middle like you're trying to hold yourself together." Jake observes, scooping you up and into his lap. He lays his head on your shoulder and places soft kisses on your neck as he rubs your back.
"I don't want to say." You breathe, sniffing as images of your boyfriend intimately touching another woman cloud your memory.
"Shhh, it's okay. You don't have to tell me." He coos, turning your face towards his. He runs an index finger down your jawbone before brushing his lips against yours.
"I'll take care of you." He whispers, running his fingers through your hair. "I'll make you forget."
The warmth of his lips press to yours, surging comfort and safety throughout your body. His hands run over your back and thighs, the hole in your chest already starting to close. Jake pulls back, eyes furrowed and breath jagged.
"Be mine…just for tonight. Just for a few hours." He murmurs, wiping away your tears kissing you softly. You nod your head, melding your lips together as he cradles your body to his chest and lifts you, starting towards his bedroom.
This is where the cycle repeats itself. You get hurt, you run to Jake, Jake makes love to you, you leave him to go back to the one causing the pain. It's a backwards agreement, made years before. Hangman's always been there, always volunteering to pick up the pieces and fill in the cracks.
And you know why.
It's in the way he touches you, the way he stares into your eyes with the utmost sincerity. The way he held you when your first pet died, the way he walked you home everyday after school, even though you didn't go to the same one. The way he cradled your face in both hands when he gave you your first kiss.
And you know it's killing him.
It's in the way his face fell when you told him about your first boyfriend, the way he didn't want to know about your first time. The way he drags his feet every time he walks you to his door, riding out the kiss goodbye with a languid pull of his lips. The way he takes his time with you, savoring every second he gets to spend expertly navigating about your body. No one knows your body like he does, not even the man you love.
Even with this knowledge, you still return to him; eyes puffy, nose sniffling, and in need of a good cuddle. But it's never been just a cuddle. Never been Jake holding his best friend until she cries away the pain.
It's always been Jake making love to the woman he adores, chasing the pain away. It's wrong, and it's morally backwards, but you can't let it go. You need his unrequited love just like he needs to take care of you, it works for you both.
So here you are, sat on Jake's lap as he sits on the edge of his bed, lips smacking together as hips grind. His fingers slip underneath your shirt, caressing the taut skin as he lifts the fabric up and off. You do the same, pressing your lips to his newly exposed collarbone and scratching your nails down his stomach. He moans into your skin, sucking on the heated flesh of your shoulder as he undoes the button and fly of your jeans. He gently slides you off of his lap, standing to remove his own sweatpants. You start to do the same but he stops you, batting your hands away.
"I'll be doing that." He says, licking your lips before kissing you with a new determination. He breaks away, holding your stare as he stands straight, hooking his thumbs in his gray boxer briefs and sliding them down his lean legs.
His cock springs free, taking your attention as it thumps against his stomach.
Jake kneels in front of you, carefully removing each sneaker from your feet, followed by your socks. He rises, bringing you with him to lift you in his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. A shudder runs over you both as his dick presses against your moistening center through your jeans. His lips find yours, hands cupping your backside as he climbs on to the bed, laying you beneath him.
He sits back on his heels, eyes locked with yours as he removes your jeans. You bite your bottom lip as he mouths at your ankle, lips ascending up your calf, tongue licking at the inside of your knee. He does the same with the other leg, venturing up your inner thigh and nipping at your sensitive skin. His verdigris gaze holds your own as he closes his mouth around your clothed center, hot breath washing over the intense sensitivity. Your back arches, hands gripping your breasts as pleasure pools in your belly.
"Please…" you whimper, grinding your yourself on his mouth. He doesn't hesitate to rid you of your underwear, immediately spreading your lips apart and licking at your clit. His tongue glides along the length of your core and he hums in appreciation, closing his eyes at the taste of your arousal.
You claw at the sheets, watching as Jake loses himself in pleasuring you.
Your fingers run through russet ringlets, nails scratching at his scalp and his eyes roll back. Your eyebrows pull together, sending Jake a silent plea. He knows what it means, so it's no surprise when he detaches himself from your soaking core with a loud smack of his lips, parting with one last lick over your entrance. His tongue slides up your tightening stomach, lips nipping and sucking at taut skin as you try catching your breath.
Jake kisses at your breasts, teeth coming down over each clothed nipple. His hands slide under your back, unclasping your bra and tossing it somewhere off to the side. You yelp as he sucks a hard nipple into his mouth, tongue circling the risen flesh. You pull at his curls and he sighs, sucking harder.
"Jake!" You holler, grinding your drenched center along his stiff shaft. He moans loudly, releasing your nipple and capturing your lips into a deep, lust driven kiss.
"Jake, please…" you whisper against his lips, and he needs no further instruction.
He lines himself at your entrance, covering his lips with yours as he slips inside you. His girth stretches you, his length making you feel full as he bottoms out.
"I've missed being inside you, Haze." He murmurs, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your jaw as he groans. "God, you're so tight for me."
Your thighs hug his waist, hands gripping his wide shoulders while he grinds around inside you. Your boyfriend is nowhere near Jake's size, so he's giving your walls time to adjust to the intrusion.
"Move…" you moan into Jake's ear, lips brushing against his lobe and he shivers. He props himself up on one elbow, looking down at your aroused expression. One hand lays on your cheek as the other grips the sheet by your head.
"Ssshhhit…" he hisses, pulling out halfway, then diving back inside at a leisurely pace.
He holds your eyes, watching your reaction to his tip brushing against that spot deep inside. You lick your lips and hook your hand on the back of his neck, tugging him down to you. He crashes his lips to yours, absorbing your moans while trading a few of his own.
As you start to think of how much you wish Jake would venture a bit deeper and pick up the pace, Jake's lips pull away. He lifts his upper body, holding himself up on his hands, placed on either side of your head, and drives into you with a new, shaper force.
Hangman's length delves into your warmth, not stopping until he's fully sheathed inside with his pelvic bone greeting yours. A delighted groan sounds in your throat, not making it passed your lips as you've taken the lower between your teeth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he swivels his hips, grinding the tip of his cock against your g-spot.
"Fuck…" He sighs, reveling in the moisture of your tight confines as he pulls back just a bit, delivering short, forceful thrusts in that way your body's craved. Your eyes open to see a darkened shade of jade, his mouth agape as he pleasures you both and watches your reactions to his every move, groaning when you squeeze around his shaft, taken by the sight of him.
You silently thank your best friend for having the uncanny ability to know exactly what you want, when you want it, and how; tangling your fingers in his hair and claiming his rosy lips. He kisses you back with great fervor, relishing in your gratitude as he increases the length of his strokes, pulling out until just the tip, then thrusting back in with powerful determination.
He pushes his knees up and under your lower back, raising your abdomen, now leveled with his groin. The thrusts are impossibly deeper this way, your muffled cries rising a few octaves as a large knot forms in your belly. Jake sucks your tongue, growling when your nails dig into the skin of his back, prompting him to go faster and harder. He breaks away from your lips, groaning incessantly as your body starts to quiver. Pressing his forehead to yours, reaches between the two of you to circle your clit with his middle finger.
"Yes, angel," he pants, kissing you chastely and repeatedly pounding into you,"cum for me."
The pressure on your clit sends you right over the edge, back arching and toes curling as you give in to your erupting climax.
Your orgasm exploding around Jake's cock makes him reach his own climax, teeth digging into your throat as he growls and white-knuckles the sheets. His cum spills inside of you, the sensation eliciting a contented moan from your own lips. No one can do that but Jake, not even the man you love.
The man you think you love.
The man you've left at home to come lay in Jake's bed.
Jake's lips sponge feather light kisses along your shoulder, silently asking if you're okay. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze, assuring him you're just fine, especially in his arms.
You're clothes are on, your keys twirling in your hand as you lean against your wingman's front door. He stands a couple of feet away, kicking at the carpet with his naked feet, sweatpants hung low on his hips and wet hair smoothed back. You push yourself off of his door, walking over to him and laying your head on his bare chest to listen to his heart as your arms simultaneously encircle each other.
"You know who it beats for." Jake whispers, tangling his fingers in your hair. You nod, turning your face towards his and allowing him to mold his lips to yours.
The kiss deepens when he pushes his tongue past your teeth, walking forward until your back is pressed to his front door once again. He moans into the kiss, hands roaming your body as yours rest in his damp curls.
He pulls away and buries his face in the crook of your neck, nose affectionately nudging your head to the side so he can kiss the searing skin there.
You feel it before he says it. The adoration, the undying dedication, the promise to never give up on this wayward friendship.
"I'll always be waiting." He whispers, kissing your ear, then softly kissing your lips.
"Come back to me." He says, like always.
"You know I will." You say, tracing the outline of his bottom lip before turning around and unlocking the door.
Neither of you choose to speak on how sad the legitimacy of that statement really is.
But that was 7 years ago and that was the first time you never came back…
A/n: And this is the first post for Haze and Hangman! Please reblog this post and give them love! Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist and follow this blog since we're only getting started!
Tagging some friends:
@callsign-magnolia
@shanimallina87
@callsign-dexter
@rosiahills22
@horseslovers2016
@djs8891
@hookslove1592
@emma8895eb
@hardballoonlove
@kmc1989
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yandere-daydreams · 1 year
Text
tw - unhealthy relationships, implied kidnapping, and obsessive behavior.
You could feel the knife's hilt beating against your palm like a living heart.
The leather-bound grip had been cold when you first picked it up, but it'd since been heated by your own white-knuckle grip, even the flat of the blade warm to the touch were it pressed against your forearm. You didn't dare breathe, didn't dare move from where you were; pressed against the shogun's chest, spread across her lap, your hands clasped at your midriff and hidden beneath the overlap of your flowing sleeves. She'd always insisted you be dressed in clothes designed not to fit - made just a little too big and just a little too ornate, as if you were a doll meant to be dressed in others' fineries. Today, her preferences had simply worked in your favor.
Ei was a warrior and a blacksmith, a woman who knew weapons from the moment of their creation to the second they were broken off in the chest of some unfortunate monster. If your knife shown through your sleeve, if you let its blade catch the dim candlelight of her personal chambers, she'd know in an instant, and you'd be stripped of both your acquired defenses and what few privileges you'd been able to earn since she first took a shine to you. Still, you could only do so much to fight your nerves, to stop yourself from shifting when your legs began to prick with numbness - a habit which Ei, thankfully, took as discomfort rather than anxiety.
Her reaction was one of honey-glazed sympathy, the kind of fondness you might show to a beloved pet that'd just tripped over its own feet. Her arm dropped away from her low desk and to your waist, where she took you up and pulled you ever-closer. You could feel her smile, soft and careless, against the crook of your shoulder, the stoicism she weld with such talent in front of her subjects falling away without a struggle. It'd always baffled you - how she seemed to content to bask in the company of the person in Inazuma who wanted to share hers the least. "Does my little beloved grow tired?" A short pause, a hesitant nod. You weren't - the adrenaline overshadowed any kind of exhaustion you'd be able to harbor - but she didn't have to know that. It'd help her to dismiss your fidgeting as nothing more than the tics of a mortal being. "Ah, my most sincere apologies. Just give me a few more minutes, then we'll go to bed together."
The very idea made you cringe, forced to recall the endless nights you spent wrapped in the arms of the unsleeping goddess with roaming hands, but you did what you could to melt into her, to make it seem like you were too worn down to fight the idea. "Why do we have to wait?" you asked, letting your words drawl together. "You shouldn't be working on anything so important this late at night."
"Just a going over a few reports from my commissioners. If all is well, I shouldn't have to do anything more than read." With a thoughtful hum, she put down the piece of parchment in her hand and reached across her desk, to the sealed scroll on the other side of the tabletop. "Say, love, do you know where I put my letter ope--"
You took your opportunity while she was distracted, tearing your knife from your sleeve and, without giving yourself time to think, thrusting it into her stomach. You didn't stop until the guard was flush to her skin, until you could force your shaking hand to release the hilt. You waited for her to recoil, to lash out, but the blow never came. For the longest time, she didn't seem to react at all.
And then, with no more ceremony than she might've taken to bat a fly from her hand or brush a spot of ink from your cheek, she clicked her tongue, reached down, and pulled the knife from her abdomen. No blood ran from the open wound, nor could you see the gore and viscera you had expected - just black void behind tattered fabric, as empty and as hollow as the woman who inhabited it. "I didn't realize you were in such a rush," she said, cutting through the seal binding her scroll with a single confident stroke and offering you a slight grin. "Next time you have something to give me, it may be less difficult to place it in my hand than my stomach."
You could feel yourself nod as something split open in your chest. There was a subtle crack, a distant ache, and with nothing else to do, you let yourself fall back against her chest, Ei welcoming you with open arms.
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soleminisanction · 3 months
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I think it’s so fundamentally telling of what sort of person Stephanie is when her reaction to Greta potentially being killed via 10,000 megawatts of electricity isn’t to be sad or devastated or beat herself up about it/ be disappointed in herself (like I think maybe Tim or Batman would be) it’s purely fear of punishment via Robin being angry at her. She did not care whether greta lived or died. She’s never been overly concerned with whether someone died or not and this has been a consistent characteristic of hers, but that’s usually only in reference to criminal characters who you could justify ‘had it coming’ and whatnot. This was just like. Greta read her diary? And Steph then tried to kill her for it? And did not feel any regret upon trying to do so? Tf??
You're not wrong, anon (aside from comedically exaggerating the voltage of a suburban powerline). I considered calling that out in the post and decided it was a tangent that would've distracted from the actual point, which wasn't so much "Yikes, Steph is an asshole" so much as it was, "And this is why you shouldn't always take characters at their word; with good writers, there's often a lot more going on when you pay attention."
Although looking back over the post now, I really have to wonder if the whole issue wasn't Peter David's way of, in part, criticizing how Chuck Dixon was handling the whole Steph-hunts-Tim's-secret-identity storyline.
Peter David is not shy or subtle about working his opinions into his comics, YJ especially, and he definitely knew where the story was going -- the last page of the issue, the one I didn't include on the post, includes a direct reference to the way the arc would soon end, with an editorial note pointing readers to Robin to find out more.
Throughout the fight Secret specifically calls Steph out on invading Robin's privacy multiple times; it lines up with the way David had, for example, negatively portrayed pair of sports hunters in issue #7, or how he wrote Cissie's "It was the guns you idiot" rant from issue #15. Whereas Steph's responses are mostly comments on the immediate situation and personal barbs that deepen Greta's arc, ie, the bit questioning whether she's even human.
And even though YJ was working with the exact same themes and narrative elements, there's never a comparative incident where a member of the team tries to learn Robin's identity behind his back. Again, despite the fact that Secret could do so easily, and despite all the tension the identity issue ultimately ends up causing on the team. Because even if they don't like that he's keeping secrets, they respect that they're his secrets to keep, and Stephanie doesn't. Or rather, Chuck Dixon doesn't, at least not when it comes to his precious pet character.
Heck, there's also the fact that the "lecture" Tim gives at the end, the one hinting towards the storyline's conclusion, hinges on how Batman and Robin is a relationship built on a bond of implicit trust... and how the relationship doesn't work if that trust is broken... and it's hinting at the end of a storyline in which that implicit trust is broken in a way that arguably took Bruce out of character and turns him into the bad guy while not only excusing Stephanie's behavior but rewarding her for it with her first round of actual Bat-training...
Of course, I have zero way of knowing what Peter David was thinking so this is 100% just my analysis but... I could see it. It's a way to professionally express his displeasure without publicly criticizing a colleague or sabotaging their plans. David's a good writer, I wouldn't put it past him.
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slashingdisneypasta · 5 months
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Spotify Wrapped Prompts !
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Sorry it took me a week!! 😅 But here they are, for those of you who requested in the comments section ^^ (Those of you who requested in the ask box, I will answer you individually cuz its just easier ^^ )
Some are much longer then others. Some are just sentences. Its just whatever came to mind regarding to song! And no, I'm not giving you the song XD Just a line or two. If you wanna do sleuthing that's your prerogative but its mostly country and I know that's not everyone's cuppa tea 😅😅😅 Without further ado- here we go!
Included down below; Professor Ratigan (3), Judge Claude Frollo (6+7), Bill Sykes (13), Percival C McLeach (14), Wheezy Weasel (39), Hades (66) and Jafar (77).
3. Professor Ratigan Prompt 🎶'If you go down, I'm goin' down too'🎶
"You are my husband. If you go down, I go down with you. There are no if's and's or but's about it."
"My dear... That's not going to happen."
"I know- I know." Do you? You should, because he's so smart and you trust him, but still there's a nagging itch in the back of your mind telling you that one of these days one of these things is gonna fail. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his hands in yours. "I just... want you to know."
With one of those dark and sinister smirks on his face, Ratigan gives you a kiss on the forehead; speaking lowly only to you. "Then we'll go down together, hmm? Two burial plots side-by-side~ "
6. Judge Claude Frollo Prompt (Fem Reader) 🎶'Jezebel, you're bound for Hell.'🎶
You're a woman who murdered her father's lover (You couldn't bear for your mothers heart to be broken) and find yourself under the judgment of one Judge Claude Frollo.
Will he send you to the gallows for your crime? Maybe not, if you keep flirting with him from across the courtroom.
Bat your eyelashes, Smirk those pretty lips, Make sure he gets a good look at your legs when you shift in your chair, do all these things in order to survive. Maybe you're only doing it to survive, maybe you actually like it. The way he looks at you.
7. Judge Claude Frollo Prompt 🎶 'Don't lie, I know you think about it in the back of your mind' 🎶
You're just a secretary in the office and the judge has made it quite clear what he wants from you. You refused him steadfast, of course, because you have dignity. And you're saving yourself.
But you cant stop thinking about it. What it might be like to say yes.
You know perfectly well that you shouldn't but with every day that goes by, your resolve grows thinner and thinner.
13. Bill Sykes Prompt 🎶'Thirty-one, waiting tables. She has They have a voice of an angel. Out of money and power. She only sings in the shower'🎶
You were working a dead-end job, living a dead-end unloved life until Bill Sykes walked into the diner you wait at. He walked in at the stroke of 4 in the afternoon, when you were supposed to leave- so, you weren't happy about it that day but had to go help him.
It was a curse at the time but now he has you singing at beautiful clubs and you have a penthouse and you don't have to wait anymore. People love you.
And yes he scares you sometimes- but the terrible man can be undone by your voice.
14. Percival C McLeach Prompt 🎶'I like em unavailable; guess that's just me.'🎶
You have a long history of going for the Wrong Guy. They're wrong because they're always taken already, a fact you only discover after the fact.
Now here's this guy- a rugged Australian guy from the middle of the outback. He's older and kindof uneducated and kind of brash but he always takes his hat off when he talks to you and opens doors for you, and... you're developing feelings for him.
He's completely not your type- you don't think he's ever dated before, and he definitely wouldn't have the sense of subtlety to pull off cheating. He wants you to be his one and only.
He thinks you're amazing. He thinks you're smart, funny, interesting, and beautiful. You feel kind of... greedy... finally having someone who just wants you.
But you're gonna make the jump. Whatever happens, happens. But at least this one truly wants you.
39. Wheezy Weasel Prompt 🎶'It's genius It's gonna be awfully rough on those children'🎶 This one's a little different! You got a Newsies Song, The Bottom Line (My favourite) so I- obviously- had to do something sticking with that theme XD
NewsiesAU!
Imagine you're in the position of Joseph Pulitzer's secretary (Hannah's character). You only got this job to be a help to the Toon Patrol (Wheezy, especially ^^). In this position you could easily sway the writing in the papers in the patrols favour, striking out any bad press. Yes, they would still get a bad reputation via word of mouth but it would be unofficial. Good notoriety in the papers would at least offer them some mystique.
This is hard enough on you. You hate deceiving people. You hate what the Toon Patrol do! But you love Wheezy, and you have to help him.
When Joseph bumps up the price of the papers, making life so so much more difficult for the newsies- the poor children, - to do their jobs and earn enough money to even feed themselves- you go home overwhelmed and in tears.
Wheezy's there to gather you in his arms and glare at Smartass when he sighs at you (How silly you are (Its just business)). He never wanted you to do this job! He never wanted you to be apart of this crap.
And now here you are sobbing because you're so stressed out and so sad- and- he's gotta get you out of this. He will get you out of this.
66. Hades Prompt 🎶'Dressed to kill'🎶
Imagine being a indebted servant to Hades along with Meg except you don't do a whole lot of the... communications work, that Meg does. So you don't have to look as nice all the time. You're often in the underworld with Hades helping him strategize and doing paperwork-type stuffs. You're closer with Hades then Meg is but it has never been a flirty thing, with you two. Just friendly. He's grown to actually like you- he's happy when you're around- you can calm him down when he's starting to lose his temper.
And honestly you like him, too. Despite the indenture. Somehow.
One day by some miracle Hades is in such a good mood, he lets you and Meg go for the day. You can do whatever you like but be back by sunset or he'll be pissed.
So you take the opportunity to wear something prettier then usual! Why not??
... When Hades sees you both leaving, that's when the penny finally drops.
He loves you.
How the hell did this happen!??-
77. Jafar Prompt (Fem Reader) 🎶'He don't know it 'cause I sure don't show it. When I kiss him goodbye and I wish him good luck'🎶
You try so hard to hide it; pretend like you're the perfect wife and you have no secrets. When you kiss your husband goodbye before you separate for the day, him going to the kitchens to work and you to laundry rooms, you look like the perfect young couple.
No one expects a thing.
Except you're truly being courted by a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man you cant tell a soul about. And your husband, likewise, has a gentleman of his own to hide.
At night Jafar will meet you in the gardens where no one but the princess and the Sultan are allowed to roam, except they're asleep when you slip by. You're all his then and, truly, you're all his all the other hours in a day.
And he's all yours ^^
-But you cant tell a soul.
These are all Free to Use if you want ^^ Please tag me if you do use them! I so so wanna read them! ^^
Thank you so much for participating! ^^
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